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sugoi-writes · 6 months ago

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This is Not a Love Story, This is an Autopsy - Part 1

A/N- PHEW! I wanted to kick out of my hiatus with something I've been itching to do... An original series! I wasn't quiet happy with some of my longer works (and trust, they will probably be rewritten, too). So, this is the start of something new! Something that'll be fresh!

I've been heavily inspired/influenced by @minkdelovely and @hazelfoureyes, who keep encouraging me to just... do it. So I'm doing it!

BEFORE you get too invested, this story WILL be dark. It will be GOREY, graphic at times, there will be filthy, raunchy smut... But this is gonna be a LOT of hurt, with VERY LITTLE comfort. Alastor will NOT be a kind man. The title should be taken seriously, if you wish to continue. BUT FOR NOW... PHEW... sorry, here's part one!!!

Warnings/Promises: Mystery murder woman, Alastor is intrigued, a poor demon suddenly doesn't have a face, cursing, banter, Mystery woman wants to kill Alastor, and Alastor doesn't have GREAT intentions either... Just-- Alastor being ALASTOR! (Mystery woman is referred to in 3rd person, but this may change! Not sure yet)

Please enjoy! ❤️ Header image created by bat-boness on Tumblr! ❤️

Alastor's evening stroll simulated any other: pleasantries exchanged with himself, and his dainty, dated tunes filling the air. This served as a chipper contrast to his surroundings of hurried footsteps, startled shrieks, and the general cacophony on this side of The Pentagram. Oh, tonight was certainly a good night! ...But it was about to get so much better.

The sound of wet squelching, akin to a crushed watermelon, caught his attention. His deer-like ears twisted in it's direction, his smile expanding. What a curious sound! One he was aptly familiar with! It could only be one thing...

Gurgling, disjointed cries and the sputtering of fluids sounded like a grotesque melody. Alastor could hear steady, heavy breathing keeping the tempo. An act of passion... well, in the killing sense, surely. Ever the curious sort, Alastor sent his shadow to investigate. Its wide eyes take in the sight of the alleyway expectantly, eager to witness the fuss first.

A large figure loomed over a hapless victim, the arms flinching and trembling subconsciously as the attacker worked diligently. The sounds from before had morphed into a gut wrenching cutting noise: the unmistakable sound of a sharp knife carving through flesh... but where?

The shadow blinked, inching closer to the scene to get a better look. However, the attacker flinched, turning towards the apparation with a speed that would snap the neck of a human. It was spotted.

In the blink of an eye, a knife came off of a thigh garter belt, hurdling full force towards the Shadow. The knife struck between the entity’s eyes, a heated hiss thrown back to the stranger. Alastor's obedient pet slinked back to its master, unable to give a more helpful report. Alastor hummed in amusement, taking two wide strides to his right. Now, he was stationed at the mouth of the alley, his teeth gleaming under the dim streetlight.

"Do forgive me, dear, I am not known to eavesdrop," a lie, Alastor thought," But I couldn't help but overhear a scuffle~ What did that poor beau do to deserve such fury?"

Alastor wanted to be nearer, to see what you had done to the now-corpse of the demon... but alas, he couldn't just yet. Even with the back facing him, the Radio Demon got a better glimpse at the disheveled stranger.

A large, wide shoulder span dipped in and flowed back out in a delightful curve: a tasteful hourglass shape. Brunette and blonde hair cascaded just past the shoulders, spattered with blood… that was even more tasteful. Judging from the spray's pattern, this blood came from somewhere else… or someone else, in this case. The broad shoulders led to muscular, intense looking arms. The limbs were so red that it seemed they were dipped in a vat of coagulated blood. He could scarcely see the little nicks and scars that littered the taunt skin.

When Alastor continued to walk forward, a sharp turn of the head greeted him. Startling, grey eyes with bloodshot whites glared back at him. The figure didn't answer him, staring him down with a look that could frighten a dictator. Blonde and brunette fringe framed the face, a soft contrast to the rest of the body. Full, flushed cheeks from exertion, complimented by wide eyes and a set of thick, heavy lashes. And, dozens of shallow, silver-white scars littering the pale, plump face. Alastor's eyebrows rose with interest, the silence only motivating him to get closer.

The figure growled, snarling like a caged animal as it turned fully towards him... a woman, he assumed. This woman had blood sprayed across her entire upper body, indicating that this was indeed a passionate act of murder.

Alastor ceased his advances, both hands coming up in mock-surrender.

"Oh come now, dear, I mean no harm... 'just curious~ Won't you humor a demon for a spell? You might just hear your little story on my broadcast tonight~" he nearly sang, eyes squinting and watching carefully. He could tell that this beast of a woman was on high alert, and would likely try and jump him if he so much as thought the wrong word. Though he was confident in his abilities to defend himself, he was no bodybuilder: a fisty cuff that got too heated could mean his second death.

The woman’s gaze remained unphased as she came to her feet. Then, it morphed into a look of recognition.

While the mystery woman realized who was speaking to her, Alastor discovered what she had been carving off of the victim: his face. Alastor watched with an irrational sense of delight as the heavily scarred woman faced him properly. He couldn't help but shift his eyes to the scalped face of the victim, feeling his hands ball up into eager fists behind his back.

The cadaver’s face was grasped in the brunette’s calloused, large hands, blood sliding through her knuckles like a babbling creak in the woods. Had he been a sane man, he would have found the image unsightly. But between his fall from grace and his afterlife of trouble… he found the sight utterly delicious.

Alastor swallowed something in his throat... nerves? Excitement? A mutual interest between strangers? What an evening to find a like-minded individual…

"...You're the Radio Demon..." the murderer said simply. Her voice was a hard, uneven gravel, as if she hardly spoke at all. Alastor's smile widened, giddy at the budding interaction.

"Ahh, my reputation precedes me~ But you can call me Alastor, sweetheart. And what may I call you, hmm?" The tone of his sing-song charm did not match the cannibalistic mania of his too-wide smile. His voice was the cheese, nestled inside an obvious mousetrap.

Alastor stepped even closer, extending a hand out to the rabid-looking woman. Her steely eyes looked to his hand, before back to his face. Her expression remained unchanged.

"...I don't do handshakes," she replied bluntly, her gaze burrowing holes into Alastor's complexion. She seemed to watch him just as intently, acutely aware of his dark aura. Her words sought to disguise her own intrigue.

"Ahh, apologies, dear-- Deeeaaaar...?"

Alastor raised a brow while he drew out the last word, eye twitching with annoyance. He cocked his head slightly as he leaned in, trying to goad her into a response. He expected a name sometime tonight. A name... just a name. If he had her name, he could work with that. Just let him get under that barrier, even if it's just a crack--

"I don't have one," the woman spat back, either uninterested or able to see through Alastor’s antics (of which, the Radio Demon wasn't sure).

A record scratch leaked through his frequency at the abrupt response. The curtness throttled his already thinking patience... Alastor's wide smile stammered for a moment, a tense chuckle bleeding through his clenched jaw. His fuzzy and sound-dampened amusement was practically oozing irritation...

Likewise, the tension that hung between the pair was far too thick.

This needed to be carved through with a knife, Alastor thought. He could still do this.

"Nonsense dear! Why, EVERYONE has a name!!! Surely there is something that people use to call you? To refer to you???" Alastor was a bit surprised by his own persistence. Why did her lack of name manage to throttle him?

...right. He found her fascinating, that's all. And fascinating people in Hell were often easy to exploit... easy to force into a deal. And by extension, she would be useful and entertaining.

"...people usually don't get the chance to talk to me," the brunette replied. Her stoney, hardened face slowly shifted into a sly smile. She chortled wickedly, licking her cracked lips,"...but they usually beg for their lives right about now."

Her sudden lunge surprises Alastor momentarily, before his pitch tendrils snap into action. The mad woman is caught and suspended mid-launch, a heavy tentacle struggling to keep her knife-wielding arm in check. Alastor clicks his tongue mockingly at her aggression. Back to square one, it seemed. What a simple creature!

"Ohh dear, is that a way to talk to someone? If you plan to stab me, at least offer to take me on a stroll first. Perhaps to a coffee shop?" The deranged woman's mouth was tightly pulled into a horrifying snarl, teeth bared and glistening with spit. Had she contracted rabies? Or was she still riding the feral high of a fresh kill? Neither option seemed to startle or surprise Alastor all that much.

He paid her no mind as he walked around her in a slow, teasing circle: like a predator circling helpless prey. But the woman grunted and struggled just the same, hair falling into her face as she tried to break free. The noises she made had shivers of pride running up Alastor's spine. This interest almost seemed... more than that. More than morbid curiosity… He shook the thought away from his mind, his cheeks burning from how harshly he forced himself to smile.

Alastor stepped within striking distance, another tentacle wrapping around the knife-wielding hand as he looked at her troubled face.

"G-Go-- nnnhhhfucker-- Go fuck yourself, freak," the woman hissed, spitting towards the Radio Demon. He simply tilted his head, the spittle missing his pristine cheek. Annoying and gauche... he would have to break her of that garish habit.

"I'm afraid carnal desires haven't interested me for quite some time. Well... past the one you dabbled with moments ago. I must say I'm mighty interested in your handywork~"

Alastor's taloned hand squished the cheeks of the captured woman, turning her face this way and that. Alastor was smirking with an air of superiority as he took in every imperfection and scar that maimed her round face... To him, she was breathtaking, each scar revealing an incident or story he would be familiar with. He felt interested in dissecting her, and figuring out just what or who caused the nicks and cuts.

Thankfully, his brush with murder and other crimes made breaking down her injuries a breeze. Most of them could be summarized as self defense marks left by a weaker victim. This woman was STRONG... There was no question about that. And she wasn't afraid of getting dirty to get her desires fulfilled. He could find that quality to be quite charming... quite useful.

"If you truly do not have a name... might I suggest one?"

The question puzzles the brunette, eyes blinking in rapid succession. It took her a few moments to process the offer.

"You... want to name me?" She retorted, her squished face distorting her bewilderment," Like some goddamn PET?"

"I’m simply offering you one, dear. No need to make a fuss. Perhaps you could find it helpful, should you ever need to be referred to more... directly. With familiarity. You needn't take it, if it displeases you."

Alastor sighed dramatically as the woman thrashed in anger, shaking his head in tandem. It was quite easy to backtrack with this one, wasn’t it?

The woman stared back at the Radio Demon, intense grey embracing hellish red in a heated standoff. One could kill the other in a heartbeat, their acts only halted by straining tentacles. They were in a tense ceasefire, if only for their own sakes.

The woman sighed, relenting after what felt like an eternity," If it causes you to let go of me... you may give me a name, Radio Demon."

"Alastor," the male corrected, pinching her cheeks with harsher intent. The woman winced, but nodded curtly," A-Alastor..."

The venom that oozed from her harsh tone made molten heat fill Alastor’s chest. She could be obedient… how interesting.

The deer demon sneered, face reflecting his earlier delight as his eyes briefly flickered. The name rolled off her tongue so easily... Oh, he liked seeing her like this. Another charming quality he could get used to… and take use of.

"Carver."

The woman blinked, scoffing," Really?"

"Yes. Carver. You could always go by 'The Carver', if you wished, but I rather think the name suits you... a little on the nose, maybe, but simple. Just like you." Alastor's thumb rubs over the woman's cheek, a claw dangerously close to gouging her eye out. The demoness’ face softens, the touch causing conflicting feelings to flit across it.

Fright, anger, surprise, and… yearning. Had Alastor not been observant and experienced with reading people, he might have missed a few of these. Hell, the micro expressions lasted for seconds, if that… But thankfully, his eyes were as sharp as the blade hovering above his head.

Alastor’s hand pauses on her flushed cheek, stashing the useful information in the recesses of his dark mind.

"...fine... That name is fine, Alastor."

Carver fell to the dank and rancid ground with a heavy thud, Alastor clasping his hands together resolutely. Tentacles were dismissed as he eyed her eagerly.

“Splendid, dear! Carver it is! Now, about our earlier topic–”

Carver dusted off her knees as she stood, eyeing the deer-esque demon cautiously. She allowed him to continue, despite her better judgment to gut him then and there.

“What do you say to a bit of coffee, over lunch?”

Carver blinks for a moment, then another, arms folding in front of her chest,” You're joking, right?”

Alastor practically giggles, a dark tendril reforming to hold up the skinned face of her victim,” I'm more of an emcee than a comedian, dear… though I can never pass on a good punchline! Haha!”

When Alastor extends the face to the woman, he squints mischievously,” But no, I'm being quite genuine… Tomorrow, Cannibal Town. There's a quaint little shop by Rosie’s Emporium, the Brimstone Brew… I trust that you've heard of it?”

Curtly, Carver nods, taking her trophy from the Radio Demon indignantly,” Vaguely. I just started working a new job closeby, actually,” she admits. The moment she does, she mentally curses herself. Alastor’s eyes widen, a hand childishly coming to cover his lips. Or more accurately, like a elitist, royal woman with her hand fan, trying to stife her reaction to juicy gossip.

“Pray tell, what do you do~?”

Carver scoffs, casting her gaze anywhere other than the man’s demented smile,” …just some butcher shop. The manager apparently got… well, butchered. So there was a vacancy that the Assistant Manager filled. Soooo… I– I was pulled in to become the new assistant there.”

Alastor seemed on the verge of jumping out of his own skin, leaning forward intently.

“You? Working in one of my favorite stops? Oh, how convenient, dear! Then hows about I ‘meat’ you there! Haha!”

The joke did not go unnoticed, a gruff ‘really?’ following after. He would need to work on her enthusiasm, too.

“See, we could go for a little stroll, and you can tell me more about this new venture of yours! Why, if it's entertaining enough, I'm sure your story would captivate an audience! My audience!”

Carver didn't get the chance to protest as the dapper demon took a few steps back, tipping his imaginary hat her way.

“Let's shoot for 11 o’clock, ‘sharp as your knife! I look forward to getting to know you better… Carver.”

And within a second, the crimson and ebony demon vanished into the shadows. Carver was left confused and stupefied by the entire interaction. She didn't even get a chance to tell Alastor that she actually had work that morning… not that the Radio Demon would stand for it. But, maybe she could brush him off easier this way… She was sure her new manager would intervene or prevent the entire situation from escalating...

The woman dug around in her satchel, until she found a gallon freezer bag. She unceremoniously threw the bloody, skinned face of her victim into her pack, rolling her eyes. Maybe ‘Carver’ was an alright name after all…

What a fucking day… and what a fucking man, to have the nerve to be so… so…

Carver blinked a few times, words escaping her. He was an asshole, but also seemed to have manners… He was infamous, but didn't seem to match the dark reputation… He was bitchy, but also… surprisingly gentle with her?

Carver touched her cheek, where a taloned finger once lingered. A swift flush ghosted across her face as she kicked the corpse on the ground, huffing defiantly. The sooner she could shake this guy off her back, the better. She didn't do ‘friends’. She didn't even have acquaintances. And yet, all in one night, she was given a nickname and asked to go on a coffee date, seemingly just to… talk?

Never would she have imagined such an odd scenario before now. But, she did have an interesting opportunity. Take him out on a date before you stab him, she loosely recalled. And she was more than eager to take him up on that offer to get him off her back.

Carver chuckled, clicking her tongue as she started the trek to her apartment. Maybe she could call in sick tomorrow! Why not?

She could humor this man, if only to hear what his screams would sound like. She hoped that his terror sounded as desperate and sweet as the ones from his broadcast… An artist often immolated their work, and she had a feeling that his anguish would taste just as divine...

This is not a love story. This is an autopsy.

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asmutwriter · 2 days ago

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My Angel (Part 1)

DESCRIPTION: You go about your day as usual. Getting some cash for your stolen items from the previous day. Little do you realise you may steal from the wrong person.

A/N - Header may change depending on how the story goes but for now I will keep it as this - enjoy

WORD COUNT: 2550

Next / Master List

WARNINGS: Swearing, mentions of prostitution/sex, talk of low income, petty crime (stealing), a small fight if you squint (no one gets hurt), self defense

DISCLAIMERS

- This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

You let out a soft grumble. The thin sheet covering your body not doing much to keep you warm. The bare windows allowing the early morning sun to come in and tease your eyes open. You rub your face. Burrowing your head into the hard pillow.

"Come on. Get up" you mutter to yourself. Eyes stay shut as you push yourself up from the bed. Twisting your nude body to exit the bed covers. Finding your various clothing items you scatted on the floor from the events of last night. Picking up the small wad of cash your regular customer had set aside for you. Stuffing it into your bra before you bundle yourself with layers.

You walk in the brisk air. A breath leaving your lips in a cloud of fog. Ears turning red from the cold nipping at them. You'd forgotten your hat and now you were paying the price. Your hands were firmly planted into the pockets of your thick coat. Trying to gain the warmth from your palms and transfer it to your head. Plus you could hug your keys in your fist this way.

Sadly it was common for you to get cornered. You soon got used to dealing with it though. Your keys being a good choice. Couldn't be charged with a planned assault with keys. Knives and other weapons could be. But that's not the point. You get to your home. Unlocking the front door.

It wasn't much but its been your home for 4 years now. Nearly 5. Two rooms. One small one to the side for a toilet and shower. The other, bigger room. Containing a bed, fridge and sink. Once you lock the door behind you again you go over to the bed. Emptying your pockets (and bra) onto the brown blanket adorning the bed covers.

Two wallets, a necklace, plus the fifty you made last night. You sit on the bed. Going through the wallets. Giving an annoyed huff. "Great". You throw the leather onto the bed as well as the contents. "I've made an extra seven bucks and a Starbucks voucher". You give out an annoyed sigh. Bringing the item up. Looking at the faded cardboard. "What a shitty day" you mumble. Flopping down onto your bed. Head hitting the creaky mattress below. Fingers fiddling with the flimsy item still in hand. Picking at the rough edge of it. Glancing your eyes to the bedside clock. 7:07am. "Yep. A shitty day".

You give an annoyed groan. Your hands coming up and covering your eyes. "Fuck. Ok" you keep your eyes closed as you process your day out loud. "So bad start. Its ok. We have spare cash from last month that we can use for rent. We can go and get our-" you bring the card back up. Glancing at it through a squinted eye before flopping your hand back onto the bed. "Free coffee or hot beverage and decide what to do from there". You sit up. Bouncing to your feet as you grab a coat and remembering your hat.

Bounding to the door as you unlock it and swing it open. "Shit". You go back over. Grabbing the necklace too. The shiny silver being a harsh contrast to your grime covered fingers. Shoving the jewel into your coat pocket. "I can swing by Liam's before coffee. See how much this bad boys worth". You go out to the street. Locking your door behind you. Turning once again to start your confident stroll your foot meets a rather large and muddy puddle. Splattering up your leg. You stand still. Annoyance coursing through your veins. Giving out a shaky breath as you try to remain calm.

"I can see Liam after coffee" you correct yourself. Shoving your keys into your pocket, but making sure you have a firm grip around them as you stroll down a few blocks. Coming to the coffee shop in question. Going inside and getting your free beverage. They were so busy they ran out of clean mugs. So you settle for a large take out cup.

You find the only space you can in the small and mildly crowded shop. Briefly paying mind to the elderly woman you sit next to. The seat to your left being free still as you sip your drink and do some people watching. Looking out the large window in front of you. Completely in a world off your own it takes you a little while to process that someone is actually talking to you. Turning you meet a pair of blue eyes. A soft smile adorning his defined features. "Hmm?" you say softly. He smiles more.

"Can I sit here?" He repeats. You note his drink and food in hand. Giving a nod as you smile back up at him.

"Of course". He sits beside you. Watching as he sits down. You tilt your head slightly. He attempts to take a sip of his drink. Seeing the regret flash through his eyes as he burns his tongue. You try not to laugh. Giving a small smile as you start speaking. "I know most of the locals yet you I don't recognise. You must be new". He gives a small chuckle. "I'm Mia". He turns to look at you as you outstretch your hand. Taking it in yours.

"Steve"

"So what is a guy like you doing out here then, Steve?" He gives a small chuckle again. Shaking his head slightly.

"I'd rather not get into that at the moment" He faces you again. Eyes scanning your features. "How long have you lived here for?"

"What made you think I live here?"

"You said you recognise the locals. Only people who live in the area recognise locals. Its either that or a poor attempt at a pick up line". Now its your turn to give out a soft laugh. Sipping your coffee.

"Could it be both?" He smiles. Turning his head back to look out the window. "I've lived in the area for five years now. Well, five next week". His brow scrunches slightly. Turning to look at you.

"You are either way older then you look or you moved here when you were very young". You smile. Resting your head on your palm as you continue to look at him.

"I moved here when I was 17 but we don't need to get into all of that". You turn to look out the window. Drinking your drink as fond memories of your past flutter through your mind. Before everything turned dark and gloomy. You mentally shake yourself. Turning back to smile at him.

"So you're 22?" you give a small nod. Smiling as you quickly dart your eyes to his lips.

"Smart man". He smiles at the compliment. His eyes steady on yours. "How old are you then Mr Steve?" He gives a low chuckle.

"Too old for you" you smile. Turning back to your drink as you down the rest of your beverage.

"You're probably right. Besides-" Watching as you plop the now empty drink down onto the table. "You seem way to nice for me" you smile as you look at him. He turns his head. Looking at the table as a small smile and laugh escapes his lips. Your eyes quickly dart over his features. Giving out a small sigh before planting your hands onto the table.

"Right. Work calls" You push yourself up with your arms. He watches as you stand. "Its been lovely chatting with you but I got to go and make some money" he gives a low chuckle. Nodding as he smiles at you.

"Good luck" he says. A genuine kindness in his voice. You smile back. Picking up your empty take out mug you squeeze past him. Going to the bin. And hand going into his pocket. Swiping his wallet and pushing it up your sleeve as you head to the bin. Chucking it in before squeezing back past.

"Hope to see you around Mr Steve" he gives a small nod. Giving a small wave to you as you head out the door. He watches you out the glass window as you start walking to Liam's.

Going a few roads away from the cafe. Coming to a dodgy looking house. You go up. Giving it three hard knocks before stepping back. A few moments pass before the door opens. A scrawny man with a tattoo on his neck opens. White wife beater and grey sweatpants. He smiles as he removes the lit cigarette from his mouth.

"Mia!" he smiles at you. Eyes going so gracefully to your chest. "What do I owe this pleasure?" You smile. Bringing your lip between your teeth as you reach into your pocket. Taking out the necklace from your pocket. His eyes stop staring at your boobs as they go to your hand. Giving out a whistle as he nods.

"How much for this?" He places the smoke back into his mouth. Outstretching a hand. You place them into his palm. His hands also a harsh contrast of dirt to the delicate jewellery.

"20"

"Fuck off"

"Thats the best I can do"

"Its worth atleast 100". He gives a small chuckle. Looking back up at you.

"30"

"80"

"40"

"I ain't going lower then 50. I'm not an expert with jewels but those-" you motion to the item in his grasp. "Those are worth the big bucks. The kinds that kings and queens wear". He gives another soft chuckle. Leaning against the door with his back as he pushes it open. Grabbing out a wad of cash. Counting out the money loudly.

"$50" he hands you the money. You smile. Taking it from his hand. Undoing the zip of your coat slightly and managing to shove the money int your bra. His eyes watch as you zip the coat back up. "I'll give you an extra 30 if you come inside". You give a scoff. Shoving your hands back into your pockets. If you did then you would be able to pay off the next couple of weeks rent. Plus have some left over.

"50". He smiles. Hand still holding the roll of cash. He takes out the money you asked. Handing it to you. You go to take it. He moves the hand away. Smiling at you.

"100 if you let me do it raw".

"No way. I ain't risking that" He gives a chuckle. Nodding as he hands you the money. Moving aside as he motions with his hand for you to enter. This wasn't your first time doing this with Liam. You knew where to go to find his bedroom. Plus you knew what he liked so the ordeal was over and done with after ten minutes. Putting your clothes on as he rests in bed. Throwing your coat back on. 100 dollars firmly wedged between your bra and skin. You wish him farewell as you head out the door.

The smell of his cigarette smoke stuck to you. God you would need a shower when you get back. Thankfully you could afford the bill to have a nice hot shower so you deemed it as a necessity. You start to head back to your home. Walking down the alleyway. The one that was normally empty besides the odd drug deal. Today it was empty though. Your lucky day. You smile as you head to your home. Unlocking and opening the door.

You reach into your pocket. Taking out the wallet from your earlier swipe. Opening it. You think its strange that he didn't have an ID or anything but didn't think to much of it. Your mind was set of the cash. your gleeful smile turns to a frown as you open it up fully. "Fucks sake" you mutter. You take out the single note. Twenty bucks. Feeling the little zip part of the item and opening it. 43 cents. "Great. Handsome man is a broke bitch". You chuck the wallet onto the bed with the cash and coins.

"I really need a shower". You sniff your coat. "Ew" you mutter. Smelling strongly of cigarettes you shrug it off. Going and pulling the curtains shut to your main room. Darkness other then the small light emitting from the bathroom. Reaching into your bra as you take out the wad of cash. Also throwing that onto the bed before starting to strip. Chucking your clothes into the dirty pile on the floor. You'll take them to the washer dryer tomorrow. Right now you needed a quick shower. Hopping in. Letting the hot water stream down your body. Washing the smoke out of your hair before getting out.

Towel drying yourself before heading into the bedroom living area. Grabbing some clean clothes out the drawers. Pants then bra. Socks. Then shirt. You go to put a leg into your jeans when you hear a noise. Your front door. The door handle jiggling. Hearing people talk outside. Two voices you think. You quickly pull your jeans up. A difficult feat but you manage it due to the rushed nature.

You try and be quiet as you go over to the door. Picking up a bat from beside your bed. Going over and standing beside the door. Trying to look intimidating. You go to bring the bat down as soon as it opens. A hooded figure. The person has quick reflexes. Grabbing the bat and pulling it. Disarming you as it gets thrown the into the hallway outside your apartment. You don't hesitate as you bring a foot up. Squaring it into their stomach. Winding them as they fall into the wall by the door. The person behind goes to grab you. Catching your wrist before you can react to anything else.

You twist your hand. Moving it to break from their grasp. Exchanging your wrist for theirs as you take a tight hold of their arm. Other going to their upper arm as you bring them up and over your shoulder. Knocking them onto the floor beneath you. You turn. Going into the hallway. Grabbing the bat from before and holding it up. Shutting the door as you stand by it. Eyes frantic as you look at the two bodies on the floor.

"Who the fuck are you and why are you in my home?"

"I know that voice" a female says. Obviously winded. She was the one you kicked. Your turn your head between the two of them.

"Answer my damn question or I'll start swinging"

"Wait. Wait a second" the other voice - a male voice - says below you.

"Who the hell are you?" There's a small pause. Too long. You bring the bat back. Swinging it against the wall. "Answer me"

"Mia?" The female voice says. You just can't quite out a face to the voice.

"Mia?" the male mimics. Almost disbelief. You recognise that voice too but are again unable to pinpoint who they belong to. You give out a sigh. Still on high alert and adrenaline. You reach behind you. Turning on the light. Turning back. Seeing your good friend Natasha bracing herself against the wall. The man you met earlier lying beneath you. You drop the bat. Making them both flinch as it hits the floor.

"Fuck"

TAGS

@wonderlanddreamer

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wheelsgoroundincircles · 1 year ago

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Dodge Challenger R/T

This custom Challenger was originally a Plum Crazy Purple car. It has a Shaker hood TA spoilers and dual mirrors. During its custom build it was fully disassembled and blasted before it was finished in custom PPG paint. The custom 528ci all-aluminum Indy HEMI engine features a Maxx aluminum block Manley rods Wiseco custom dome pistons 426-1 Indy heads with Super Mod porting K-Motion springs and 10-degree titanium keepers. The engine is fed by a 950cfm Holley Ultra HP carburetor through a port-matched Indy 426-2 intake. It?s also equipped with an Indy Maxx oil pump and oil pan custom 24-gallon aluminum fuel cell with a Holley racing fuel pump MSD Pro Billet distributor custom 1-1/4 ceramic-coated headers flowing into custom 3 exhaust with X-pipe and ceramic-coated Holly Flo Tec mufflers. A Be Cool aluminum radiator with dual thermostatically controlled fans Meziere high-volume water pump and Indy reverse-flow water pump keeps the engine running cool. Richmond 6-speed manual transmission with a long shifter and McCleod dual disc clutch with Lakewood scattershield transfers the power through a Dennys heavy-duty aluminum metal matrix driveshaft and DTS custom-built Dana 60 rear end with Strange axles. This Challenger features a custom frame and suspension with a full roll cage Aldan coilover shocks and Magnum Force A-arms with 1-1/8? sway bar up front Aldan coilovers out back Modified Competition Engineering engine and mid-plate mounts and full aluminum tubs. Wilwood dual master cylinder and billet disc brakes at all corners provide stopping power to the one-off Boyd Coddington billet wheels and Nitto 555Extreme ZR tires. Additionally this Challenger was equipped with a Painless wiring harness Summit battery disconnect dual batteries mini starter variable speed wipers Electro-life electric windows Halogen headlights and custom driving lights. The restored interior features Legendary leather seats a Rim Blow steering wheel center console full Auto Meter Phantom gauges and tachometer a custom Autosound stereo with 5-disc CD changer Sony Xplod amp and Pioneer Aramid fiber speakers with IMPP cones electric antennae tinted glass and air conditioning.

#Dodge Challenger R/T #car #cars #muscle car #american muscle #mopar #moparperformance #moparnation #moparworld #dodge #dodge challenger #challenger

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samsalami66 · 6 months ago

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Ball is Life

ITS TIME. First part of the soccer au is done.

Read on ao3!

Hob gasped some desperate breaths between the cool water hitting his face, which was burning hot from the past forty-five minutes he had spent on the pitch. The board showed a draw, one to one, and the game was not going quite as they had hoped for. Fawney’s defence was supposed to crumble a lot quicker under their relentless attacks, but so far their defenders were doing a fantastic job of forcing Dream and him out of position, making it almost impossible to get a good flank towards Dream or vice versa. None of their direct attacks had worked so far, and no free-kick had found its way into Fawney’s goal.

What they really needed right now was a corner. Hob was well known for his headers, his jumping height rivalled by few others in the world, while no one else knew how to prepare a shot for him quite like Dream did.

When Hob managed to blink through the water in his eyes, he saw Dream staring at him from halfway across the field. Their eyes found each other easily, as they always did during a game. There was something about Dream that made Hob aware of his presence, his piercing blue eyes on him. (That something might just be the crush he had developed for his teammate and best friend of two years, but Hob was nothing if not a master of ignorance. They were friends, and only that, at least as long as Dream didn’t say otherwise. If that ever changed, well. Hob would gladly give his friend whatever he asked for.)

Once their gazes locked, both of them knew what their next attack would be after the break. Force a corner, abuse Hob’s superior jump-height and finally get that lead against the Riggers. Dream nodded, once, and let his head fall slightly to the right. Right side corner.

With a last gulp of water, Hob made his way back to his position on the field, waiting for the ref to announce the start of the second half. His heartbeat was loud in his ears, louder than the fans cheering them on from the sidelines, but not louder than the sound of the whistle cutting through the air.

They didn’t immediately get their chance. The Riggers were attacking with renewed energy, a fresh player in their offence wearing down Ken and Cori by the minute.

But then, in the fifty-first minute, Matthew managed to get the ball from one of the mid-fielder’s, quickly passing it to John, while Dream and Hob were making a run for the penalty area. A glance back showed that the ball was already being passed to them, a high shot from just behind the halfway line. Hob accepted it with his chest, then swiftly turned to dribble it towards the goal. One of their defenders tried to block him, but Hob, instead of trying to get past him and towards the goal, simply shot the ball against his shin and thereby got a right corner for the Fiddlers.

Part one of the plan was successful.

Hob threw a grin and a wink into the direction of the defender, Alex Burgess, who only stared back at him with a frown. There was no time to analyse that look any further though, as Dream was already jogging towards the corner point and preparing his shot. His friend’s eyes were on the goal, not on any of the players, but Hob knew all too well where Dream would be shooting. They had done this a thousand times in training, knew each other’s passes better than anyone else's.

When the whistle once again cut through the air, Hob ran from his spot behind Burgess, thereby successfully freeing himself for a header. He jumped, just as the ball came in from above, and with a final push the ball soared for the goal, the angle impossible to stop for the goalkeeper. But just as his feet were about to touch back on the ground pain shot through his head from the right side, the surprise making him miss his landing and hit the ground with a pained groan. His vision was turning and twisting worryingly as he tried to blink through the black coming in from all sides.

Fans and players alike were shouting around him, most of them in ecstasy, some in anger. Hob was not entirely sure where the shouts were coming from; from above, beneath or before him, but they were so loud. Sure as hell wasn’t a good sign, especially not with the nausea now overtaking his senses.

He pressed his teeth together against the feeling and tried blinking some more to stop the world from spinning before his eyes, just to see blue eyes staring down at him with obvious worry once he finally managed. The lighthearted grin he wanted to throw at his friend quickly turned into a grimace as his head began to pound at even the slightest of movements.

“Hob,” He heard Dream’s low voice over the ever-present chorus of cheering fans, and it felt like a warm balm soothing his aching mind. “Hob, can you hear me?”

“Yeah,” His voice was little more than a groan, but Dream probably still understood him. Gods above, but his friend really was beautiful from this angle. All untameable black hair and marble skin and eyes like the endless skies above. Perhaps his best friend was not really a person at all, but rather a painting or statue, come to life. He was Greek after all, so maybe he had just escaped one of their museums one night and now they were missing their prettiest marble statue. He was named after a God, so perhaps it was one of the Sleep God’s depictions that he sprang from.

“Do you know that you look like a Greek God?”

Well, fuck him, that was certainly one thing to say to your best friend. Thankfully, Dream merely raised an eyebrow at him, a smirk stretching over his lips.

“I appreciate the sentiment, even if it's probably the concussion talking.”

It most certainly was not, but Dream didn’t have to know that. Probably better that way, Hob had different problems right then.

“I think I might throw up.”

That was apparently enough to force Dream into action, as he quickly raised a hand to call the medical team onto the field. The worry was back on his face, something that will never fail to make Hob’s heart ache. He remembered all too well, when Dream had still played for the Riggers, the looks of arrogance and indifference he had always faced Hob with on the field, the smug satisfaction when Hob had been fouled by one of their awful defenders. On more than one occasion Hob had had to leave the pitch, with injuries much worse than a simple concussion, and all Dream had done was smirk and feign disinterest. To now be granted his care and affection was more than Hob had ever imagined.

The Dream he knew now was just so sweet. Hob would have never believed that beneath that exterior of arrogance and smugness Dream could be such a loveable and caring human being, and yet here he was, lying beneath his watchful gaze and knowing that his old rival would fight anyone who came too close to him. He felt safe when Dream was there, even if the man’s fists had once given him a black eye.

Funny, how time could change people.

“Don’t pass out on me, Robert.” Hob heard Dream’s voice above him, and he had to blink his eyes open again to look at his friend. He hadn’t even noticed that he had closed them. Or that the nausea was slowly settling back into something more bearable.

“I would never, dove.” he answered, but he could feel his words slur together and his eyelids growing heavier with every passing second. Blasted concussions.

“I will kill Alex the next chance I get.”

A tired laugh escaped Hob at the murmured statement from his friend and he blindly reached to his side to pat Dream’s knee. He missed and ended up hitting his shin, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

“No murder on the pitch, love, we’ve talked about this.” There was no answer to that, but Hob could make out a scoff on Dream’s face which made him snort softly. “How about you win us this game and bring me some Gyros on your way back instead?”

“You’re terrible, Kollitós.” His friend whispered, fondness clear in his voice.

They ignored the approaching medical team for a moment longer, sharing a long look before Hob would have to be carried off the field. There was fear in Dream’s eyes, almost invisible beneath his carefully crafted mask of indifference. Fear for Hob’s health, for one, but Hob knew that was not the full extent of it. Playing against his old club alone, facing his old teammates on his own, without Hob by his side. The possibility of failure, of losing this match which was so important to him, to disappoint their mates and their fans.

Dream was always bloody terrified to disappoint.

But Hob knew he would not. Didn’t even know if he could. Dream always delivered when it came down to it, his crippling anxiety spurring him on and on, way past any healthy limits. Sometimes Hob wondered what would happen the day Dream failed for once; if it might break the one thing his friend still had left for himself.

If it came to that, Hob would be there to build him back up. To remind him that failure was not the end, and that it would never ruin Hob’s trust in him.

Which in turn reminded Hob that he could place some well-earned trust in Dream’s hands right then and there.

Dream’s eyes widened comically as Hob took off his own captain’s armband and wrapped it around his arm, patting it in a friendly manner.

“Hob-”

“Shhh, love, trust me. This is your game.”

Dream looked about two seconds away from crying, his lower lashes shining ever so slightly in the afternoon sun. They weren’t sad tears, just emotional ones. Both of them were well aware of the message this was sending, allowing Dream to be the team’s captain for the first time in a match against his old club. A Fuck You, as clear as these assholes deserved. And Hob trusted him to show them up, to send them back home in pieces.

If anyone could do it, it was Dream.

Hob gave his arm a last squeeze as the medical team started blocking his view on his friend, preparing to move him onto a stretcher. It was the last Hob saw of Dream before he was carried off the pitch. But that was alright, because they would see each other again at the hospital, right after Dream kicked the Riggers’ asses.

There was a knock on the door of Hob’s hospital room an astounding twenty minutes after the game had been supposed to end. Astounding, because the stadium was about twenty minutes away from the hospital. So either Dream had learned how to teleport, or he had skipped the dressing room completely in order to see him.

Hob decided it would probably be best not to think too hard on that second option, lest his heart might actually skip out of his chest.

Instead, he called out for Dream to come in.

And come in he did, sweaty and out of breath and shaking, excess adrenaline still pumping through his system. He was still dressed in his jersey, shorts and even football boots, confirming that he had indeed run from the pitch directly to the hospital, after playing a full ninety minute match…

Gods above, but Hob really adored this man.

In the blink of an eye Dream rushed across the room and threw himself into Hob’s arms, breathing hectic breaths into his neck and grasping the hospital gown between them like a lifeline. Hob was helpless to do anything but wrap this ridiculous man into the tightest hug he could possibly manage. Eventually, Dream’s heavy breaths turned into sobs and then into tiny sniffles, tears flowing freely in the safety of their embrace. Hob was so proud of his friend for allowing this, for trusting him enough to hold him in these moments when everything came crashing down.

It had taken them a while to get to this point, for Dream to understand that his emotions were not a weakness, but an inherent part of him which could make him even stronger. He wasn’t the man he was despite of them, but because of them.

Old Burgess had done a great job of convincing him of the opposite, and sometimes Hob wished he could still strangle the fucker for what he had put Dream through.

Not that it mattered much, the man was already six feet under, exactly where he belonged. Still, it might bring Hob a small measure of comfort to kick the dead man’s body.

“You are thinking.” His friend murmured into his neck, voice hoarse from crying, successfully distracting Hob from his violent daydream. “What are you thinking about?”

“Disturbing the peace of the dead.” he murmured, simply, before placing a kiss into Dream’s sweaty hair. “Might even be worth the criminal charges.”

A pinch to his side had Hob yelping and Dream laughing into his neck, the awful grating sound of his best friend’s giggles filling Hob’s chest with indescribable warmth. There was nothing quite like hearing Dream laugh, really laugh, without fearing judgement. Just the thought that such a wonderful human being had been shamed for experiencing and expressing joy in his own unique way never failed to break Hob’s heart a little bit every time. How could anyone hate this laugh, when it was so precious, so sweet and innocent?

Hob didn’t understand it. He didn’t understand the so-called fans the Riggers had, nor did he understand that bastard Roderick Burgess.

And even if these people were in the past (or in Hell), Hob couldn’t help the anger he still felt on behalf of his best friend every time he remembered the way Dream had forced down his laugh, had apologised for delighting in a situation.

Never again.

Hob squeezed his friend tightly against his chest, closed his eyes to soak up the joy and warmth radiating off of him with appropriate greediness. Appropriate, because he didn’t just kiss this infuriatingly adorable man stupid, even if he really really wanted to. So actually, he was holding himself back here. Or at least that was what he kept telling himself.

A knock sounded from the door, which had Dream’s head shooting upwards in interest. Still, he didn’t move from where he was draped over Hob, much to the other man’s delight. Thank God he wasn’t hooked up to a heart monitor, else it might have made all his holding back utterly useless with how his heart was racing over this simple display of trust. Dream knew he was welcome, that his affection was welcome, even in the face of strangers. He knew Hob would protect him, and would stand by his side. Always.

“Come in!” Hob called, voice breaking ever so slightly. If Dream noticed, he didn’t comment.

The door opened, and in came, well, everyone. The entire team, lead on by Cori and John, filtered into the tiny hospital room, arms overflowing with take-away boxes that smelled of garlic, thyme and oregano and all the other spices Hob had come to associate with Greek cuisine, his favourite ever since Dream had stepped foot into his life.

He let out a groan as the smell hit his nose, his stomach rumbling in interest.

“I fucking love you guys, did I ever mention?”

“Once or twice,” John smirked, patting Hob’s shoulder where it poked out from beneath Dream.

“You scared the shit out of us with your little stunt, Hobert.” Merv remarked from where he had already monopolised the single chair stood to the far side of the room. His tone was rough and grim as ever, but an edge of concern was lodged somewhere near his constant frown. Hob felt oddly touched.

“Don’t you worry about me, old man, it needs way more than a little concussion to knock me out. After all, you would all terribly miss my voice if I stopped talking for a whole five minutes.”

Cori chuckled by Hob’s other side, sitting cross-legged on the floor and unpacking their food. “I’d be worried if anything ever managed to shut you up for more than a second, Robbie. I have a feeling not even knocking you out would be enough. Though who knows, perhaps it’s worth some consideration if we might have silence during training for once.”

Hob simply grinned at Cori, knowing full well that his mate loved to hear him talk the most out of all these people. On more than one occasion he had called Hob in the middle of the night to talk to him for some hours, saying it helped him with falling asleep after a hard day. Every jab was in good humour, and Hob delighted in Cori’s pout when he stretched a bit in order to ruffle his hair.

From Hob’s other side, a comforting hand on his shoulder, Gilbert, their trainer, cleared his throat, catching their attention.

“Robert, in all seriousness, I request that you take at least two weeks off for your recovery. I do not wish to see you anywhere near our training facilities until then. A head injury is nothing to be trifled with, and I will not allow you to endanger your health any further on my watch. Once the doctors have given their okay after that we will see to get you back on the field.”

Gilbert’s eyes were warm and caring, filled to the brim with the same softness he always held for this team and its players. They were his wards, and he the father figure a lot of them had been lacking before they came to Fiddler’s Green. He cared for them, in a position where not many other people would, and had thereby gained their respect, trust and loyalty. It was with that feeling in mind that Hob nodded, obediently, knowing Gilbert wanted the best for him. For all of them.

“I was due a vacation anyways,” he quipped, which had the other men chuckling to themselves. They all bloody hated vacations, sitting still for days on end. But he would not be contrary to Gilbert.

Instead he squeezed Dream once more, his weight on top of him calming in its consistency, and pressed a kiss into his hair, simply because he could. And, well, perhaps also because it made Dream nuzzle closer to him.

This was where they belonged.

He grabbed one of the boxes Cori had unpacked and smiled at his teammates. “Now, tell me how the rest of that game went guys, you know I hate being left in the dark.”

And if the rest of the day went down in cuddles, laughter and tales of dramatic plays then, well. Hob felt right at home.

#dreamling #the sandman #hob gadling #dream of the endless #salamiwrites #dreamling soccer au #Fuck it we Ball #hurt/comfort

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lewsnumerounofan · 1 year ago

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party foul part 2 (jeremiah fisher x reader)

summary: so what if you're in love with your best friend jeremiah fisher? one drunk kiss won't change anything. right? (spoiler: it does)

notes: not biblically accurate conrad, kissing, smut, unprotected oops, somewhat public, 3k words, reader previously dated co**ad, angst/miscomm., not proof read at all

+ part 1

+ i fucking hate htis one its so bad i'm so sooryim gooo fuckjuhnbsorry oh my god and dw abt the header image!!!!!! it's okay!!!!!

your phone hit voicemail again. it was the seventh time you’d tried calling jere, but still no luck.

“maybe he’s staying at a friends place,” belly supplied, but she looked worried too. ever since you and jere had kissed the night before, he’d been mia. steven, you, conrad and belly had all taken turns trying to reach him with no success. at first it had been expected, but it was now rounding out on 24 hours since he’d left, and worry was starting to permeate amongst everyone. well, everyone except taylor. she wasn’t too worried about it. he’s probably just moping around feeling sorry for himself, she’d said.

unfortunately, you couldn’t quite master taylor’s level of nonchalance. in fact, you felt awful. for a few minutes, everything had been perfect. you’d been kissing the boy of your dreams–the boy you were in love with. and then…

“yeah, he kinda checks out when he’s upset. he did the same thing after mom died.”

conrad, this time. him and nicole had just come back from driving through town trying to find him. you nodded, but a tightness was slinking into your chest. jere hadn’t ‘checked out’ after suzanna died. he’d called you, and together you’d talked for hours as he wandered the streets of boston. never before had he shut you out like this. it made you worried. more than worried; it made you feel scared.

“i think i’ll try him again, just in case,” you said. because you couldn’t not do something. because you were scared you’d messed things up permanently, because jeremiah had never, ever ignored your calls.

“okay, well i’m ordering pizza. jere disappearing or not, i’m fucking starving,” said taylor. she’d hopped off her place on the counter and now started flipping through the take out flyers stuck to the fridge. steven and belly sounded their agreement.

“i can pick it up,” you offered, “it’ll give me a chance to go look for him too.”

you were out the door soon after, steven and taylor’s argument about whether pineapple belonged on pizza still lingering in the background. feeling a bit better now that you had something to do, you let the warm summer air breeze through your car windows. jere was out there somewhere, probably doing just fine. it’s not like he’d do something dumb or get himself hurt. if you were honest with yourself, he’d most likely just crashed at an old hook up’s house. there were plenty of those around in cousin’s, and they’d likely all enjoy having jere back. you tried not to think about it.

the pizza place was a 20 minute drive from the fischer’s, and you took the long route along the beach. it was a perfect summer night: seagulls called off shore, the sunset lingered to the west, and couples lazily strolling back to their cars. it was the type of night jere loved.

you were a couple minutes early for your order, so you decided to make the most of it and join the sparse crowds decorating the beach. you pulled over and parked, grabbing a light sweater for the evening weather.

amongst the waves and people’s quiet chatter, the beach possessed a lingering hum. it was a sound that accompanied many of your fondest childhood memories, and you took comfort in it’s familiarity and peacefulness. you couldn’t help but think of jere–think about what had passed between you last night, mostly.

did you finally tell her you're in love with her?

you hadn’t been able to get steven’s words out of your head. the thought of jere ever liking you was one thing, but love? it felt too good to be true.

and besides, it’s not as though it would matter if you never even got to see jeremiah again. for the first time, you almost felt annoyed at his vanishing act. he’d left you confused and frustrated and wanting more.

just then, as if you’d conjured him yourself, you noticed jere on the beach before you. his curls were unmistakable–almost the same colour as the sand. his hands were tan and strong as he leaned back on them, sun-bleached bracelets wrapped around his wrists. you wanted to take a picture of him there. keep this precious moment of discovery and summer immortalised forever.

and then he turned around, blue eyes catching yours.

you could see the moment worry set in by the tight line that furrowed over his brows. he started to rise from the sand and you moved towards him, carried by adrenaline and anger and a little bit of excitement. halfway down the beach you caught each other, but before you could speak jeremiah was shrugging past you.

“you shouldn’t have come.”

the waves and gulls seem to mock you then–the whole perfect august night laughed in your face as you stopped, stomach sinking. it took a few moments for his words to register, and a few more for you to whip around and catch up to him. he was almost past your car when you finally managed to grasp onto his sleeve. deja vu hit you hard enough that you almost stumbled. just last night this same action led to jere’s lips on yours, his mouth hot over your body. today’s jere must have seen the memory on your face because he scoffed, pulling back sharply.

“see? you can’t even think about what happened without looking disgusted,” he said. his voice was low but convicted. closed. you hated it.

“jere, what are you talking about? you wouldn’t know anything about how i feel–you ran away last night and no one’s been able to contact you since,” you tried. he made an attempt to keep walking but you didn't let him, this time coming to stand between him and the road. ridiculous.

“no calls, no texts, nothing. do you have any idea how worried everyone has been?”

at this jere’s eyes blazed and he took a step forwards, letting his head lower as he spit the words into your face, “yeah, i’m sure you and conrad were just about worried sick huh.”

it took quite a lot of effort on your part not to roll your eyes. what was with this boy. had the kiss not been enough? did he really think, after all this time, conrad stood a chance?

“you’re such an idiot sometimes jere,” you said, regretting it as his chest shuddered under a heavy breath.

he laughed and looked away. his eyes were bright in the dwindling sun, his jaw harsh as he fought to control himself. slight smudges under his eyes, extra tangled curls, slightly red eyes. now that you were up close, jere looked a mess. heart hurting you reached for him, wanting to smooth back the stray hair falling over his cheekbones. to smooth over this, over him, to let him know everything was alright. he caught your hand. even this, even his firm grasp on your skin, had your body lighting up. awakening in a way it only would for jere.

“you sure know how to make it hurt. why can’t you just fuck off and we can pretend this never happened, okay?” he hissed, but you knew jere. the way he blinked more and the way his voice changed. “just- just please go home. it hurts me to look at you right now. it hurts.”

his voice broke and he dropped your hand. you couldn’t stand the look on his face. you didn’t let him turn away from you though. this was your boy, the boy you’d been in love with every day for a year. and you wouldn’t have him thinking otherwise.

your pulse raced as you said, “it’s you, jere. it’s you and it’s always been you. not conrad. and it would hurt me if you thought anything otherwise.”

he flinched at your words but there was something in his face that changed. something small, something that took you having to know how he breathed to notice. hope.

“jere, look at me. look at me,” you said. and he did, his eyes wide and blue. the same eyes you dreamed of.

“i love you. i love you, jere.”

you folded the words onto his lips as you kissed him. wrapped them in sugar and pressed them onto his mouth, begging him to understand. to see what had been obvious every night you’d called him, every time you’d hugged him, every time you’d smiled at his dimples.

“i love you.”

and then you couldn’t say anything else because he was cupping your jaw, tilting your face and running his tongue over your teeth. panting as he consumed your gasps. pulled the air from you.

jere shuffled you back until the cool press of your car met your hips. under him and the way he kissed at your neck, you had no notion of what surrounded you. no idea of anything except the heat of his tongue against your throat. your ear. your lips.

“up,” he mumbled. that was all the warning he gave before lifting you onto the hood of your car. the metal was cold beneath you but his hands were burning as they circled your thighs, coaxing your legs apart until he could press himself against you.

he was so big in front of you. the wide span of his shoulders, the strong shape of his hands. he was kissing like he’d hurt if he didn't. you felt feverish, you felt elated. jere broke away enough to rest his forehead on yours, chest rising and catching.

“need you,” he said. his voice was tight.

“what?”

“said i need you.”

“here?”

you were incredulous at first, but jere didn't even bother to look embarrassed. his gaze was level with yours and you had to blush and look away.

“we could- i mean, we’ve got my car…”

he grinned as he pulled you down, and the giggle came before you can stop it. around the vehicle and into the back seats you were both trying to stop from laughing. it was such an encapsulation of being a teenager. of sneaking around and driving each other crazy and being in love. the feeling had you collapsing onto his lap as he pulled the door closed, huffing onto the tan skin of his neck.

“this is so stupid,” you said. the grin jere gave leaves you breathless. your fingers pressed over his smile, tracing the red line of his mouth. the car was warm and dark and protected.

“you have no idea how long i’ve waited for this,” he said, “waited for you.”

you wanted to laugh again but his hands were pulling up your shirt. goosebumps followed the path of his thumb over your bra, under your bra; when he put his mouth on you you moaned. in this little space you’d made the sound was a feeling and jere grinded into you at its touch. focused as he toyed with you, painting your chest red and purple with his lips.

baby, baby, you were saying as strong hands held you close. even as you tried to pull away–push closer?–from the intensity of his kisses. of having his curly hair fall against your chest and stomach. of his eyelashes brushing over your collarbone. you molded your palm to the thick muscle of his shoulder, watching it shake as he took his time drawing you out.

“please, jere.”

he knew what you meant. off comes his shirt, crumpled on the ground beneath the drivers seat. outside the sun had set. gulls still called from offshore, quiet on the other side of the car’s window.

neither of you bothered getting fully undressed. after struggling with both your pants, he tugged down his boxers enough and helped your trembling fingers pull aside your own underwear. he was whispering you’re sure? even as you raised up on both knees, murmuring in your ear until you had him notched inside you.

except for your stuttering breaths, it went silent in the car. jere’s hands were at your back, gently gathering your hair into a loose ponytail. he was shaking too then.

it almost doesn’t seem real–that moment. the press of warm, bare skin. that just days ago you were best friends, and hours ago you weren’t sure you’d have a relationship at all. and now you were here on top of him, having sex in your car at the beach. you wanted to laugh again, but you were seeing white as jere filled you.

you couldn't keep your head up. you were dizzy as you fell forward into his warm chest, taken over by the stretch of him, the perfect fit. he found his breath again, enough to murmur that you were taking him so well. that you felt so good.

“jere,” you said as his hands found your hips. nodding, kissing the top of your head, he guided you forward and then back, transfixed as he watched where you two fit together.

it was a tight fit in the car. you had to bend over him so as not to hit your head, and jere’s long legs pressed against the back of the front seat. you don’t care much though, not when you could grind down and watch him tense up, muscles in his neck tight. it should have be criminal to look that pretty. his hair, slightly damp from fucking, curled tighter around his temples. his eyelashes were long over his cheek bones as he tilted his head back, eyes closed. leaning down to lick his adam’s apple you listened to him groan.

“can’t believe ive been missing out on this,” he said. his voice was breathy and quiet and warm on your face and you drew even with him. you wanted to arch into his hands, to bend yourself around him until every piece of your skin was held by his. you felt crazy.

talking to him like this, when he was still inside you, when you were riding him, made you clench. already you were aching for it. jere knew it too. he was watching you, watching the movement of your body and your face like it was a special act just for him. like you were beautiful.

“jere,” you said. it was just about the only word you can remember.

he shifted beneath you, one hand coming to map the side of your ribs, the other between your legs. the rhythm changed as he began to meet you with his hips, and every breath became hinged on a moan. the way he thumbed over your clit, the way he mouthed at your tits. control was slipping away from you. fast.

the new angle was almost too much, and as jere buried deep you gasped. your body was liquid and you almost tipped backwards, grabbing at his shoulders. like a man possessed, jere didn’t even pause. his large hand gripped the front headrest above you as he laid you down over the armrest between the front two seats.

lying prone and naked half in the front of your car, you realized something quite quickly. your back windows were tinted. the front ones most definitely were not.

“someone could see, jere!” you said, attempting to lift yourself up. most beach-goers had cleared out after the sunset, but faintly you could still hear the sound of people playing in the surf. jere’s tan hand on your chest stopped you.

“we’d better be quick then.”

before you had time to try reasoning, jere was pushing back into you. unable to argue, unable to say anything, you found his hand and laced your fingers together. it was all you could cling to as he fucked into you, as the heat of his body spread over you. it was warm and close and dark and when you finished, together, he stopped breathing. just for a second. then, while your mind was still hazy he pulled you back onto his lap and kissed you. hard.

holding you there, safe in his arms. at some point he found his sweater and pulled it over your head. warm against his chest, body and legs aching. he whined when you clenched, absently, around him. still pressed inside you. it’s funny so you giggled and he groaned again and threw his arm over his face.

“don’t do that,” he grit out.

“why not?”

you were teasing. his eyes found you, tongue already in cheek. you couldn't look away from his red mouth.

“because i’ll get hard again.”

it amazed you how ready you were at the possibility. your spine already straightening. you don’t think you’ll ever stop wanting him.

but, faintly, you heard your phone ring. it was beneath a pile of clothes and it was on the last ring when you finally managed to snag it.

“hello?” you said. jere watched you lazily, still smiling.

“hey, uh where are you?”

you pulled the phone from your ear. the caller id read conrad. shit. pizzas. you’d gotten a bit… distracted. jere caught the name too and though his expression faded slightly, his gaze remained on yours. you smiled at him and couldn't help but kiss him. quickly.

“yeah sorry about that conrad. listen, bad news is the pizza might be a bit cold,” you could hear groans from the other end of the line, “but uh. good news is i’ve found jere.”

you didn't bother to listen to the response, instead you leaned up to the boy you loved. kissed over his cheek and his dumb grin.

“i found my jere.”

#jeremiah fischer #team jeremiah #jeremiah x reader #jeremiah smut #jeremiah fic #jeremiah x you #bigkeepup

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dat-town · 2 years ago

Text

the things we lose in fire

Characters: Sunwoo & female reader

Setting & genre: fantasy, Alchemy of Souls au, not your typical enemies to lovers au

Summary: About a girl who slowly lowers her guards around a boy who is destined to be her enemy.

Warnings: canon-typical violence, folklore monsters, blood, burn marks, arson (the bermuda triangle is pretty much the mean girls of jeongjinrak and i may have enjoyed that too much)

Words: 13.6k

Author’s note: there are lots of references to the original kdrama but i think it can be read without seeing the show. there are spoilers about the season 2 ending though because the main characters are the next generation, relatives of the original characters

happy name day @lily-blue, i'm glad we can still fangirl over any piece of media just like we used to <3

the photo for the header is by sunset lover

Even with your eyes closed, you could feel the shift of energy behind you.

Blinking, you turned around just in time to raise your sword in front of your body in defense, to fend off the huge blow coming your way. You snickered as your feet slid backwards on the wooden floor from the strength of it and looked at your opponent with furrowed eyebrows.

Jaehyun looked awfully pleased with himself that he managed to surprise you. As if his ego wasn’t big enough already, he had mastered Chisu recently, an ability only a few of your age owned, and he liked to show it off. Too bad for him, you had your own tricks up your sleeves. So you just smirked back at him and before he could have started his next attack on you with his double swords slicing the air, you lunged forward with precise and sharp movements, forcing him to switch to defense and back away. You could hear the hollers around you but you paid them no mind as you tried to make a hit that could have been lethal if you used your real weapons instead of the practice ones Jeongjinrak let you.

You could tell that the boy started to get annoyed and him losing focus on his movements as he let his emotions take over played right into your hands. You felt the exact moment when he wanted to break out of the defense mode and you managed to swirl out of his sword's way easily then making your way behind him, you held your sword at the side of his neck threateningly.

“I win,” you exclaimed watching with a triumphant smile as the boy lowered his weapons.

The other students around you whooped and clapped, gathering around you, patting you on the back, congratulating, while Jaehyun had his own share of friends who consoled him after his defeat, telling him not to take it to his heart, to not care about her, you know how she is. But of course, the infamous Seo Yul’s nephew couldn’t let it go just like that.

“It’s not fair, you know. You have an advantage with those priestess abilities of yours,” he pointed out, panting, bitter, and you scoffed. It wasn’t the first time you heard that. Others liked to say that if it hadn’t been for your parents they would have beat you in a fair fight. You found their reasoning ridiculous. Nothing out there in the real world with its dangers was about fairness. Would they have whined like this when they faced an enemy stronger than them too? It wasn’t like you just sat around and you were this good. You had to learn how to control your family’s power just as much as you had to master Ryusu to unsheathe your sword like any other pupils of this institute for mages. Your mother had stayed up with you when your fever kept you up after the first signs of your power and your father had taken you to the mountains to practice every summer. Both of them had faced their own hardships and struggles with their powers, they both understood the envy you had gotten for the abilities you had been born with. Not that it helped when you were in a room full of boys with raging testosterone, wanting nothing more than to prove their manliness by defeating you. A girl on top of everything.

“Excuses. Tell that to yourself if it helps you sleep at night,” you rolled your eyes at Jaehyun and shrugged after you slid your sword back into its scabbard. “It’s not like I can switch it off.”

He was just hurt that his pride was wounded with another lost sparring against you. He took great pride in being from the big Seo family, associated with the royal family after all and being the nephew of Jeongjinrak’s leader he had all hopes laid out there for him. But even with his Chisu, he wasn’t as good as you. You didn’t even have to extinguish all the lights in the chamber like you had done with Juyeon last time.

“That last move was so good! You have to teach me that sometime,” Changmin threw an arm over your shoulder and you flashed him a grateful smile. Having a friend like him surely had its perks.

You asked him what he wanted to eat for lunch, eager to fill your stomach after the exercise but before the boy could tell you all about the honey biscuits he craved, the ones your mom always sent you, there was a commotion by the door that attracted everybody’s attention. Hyungseo basically fell through the door when it opened.

“You won’t believe what just happened! Haknyeon just saw the new mage pupil with Master Seo,” he said in a too serious tone for such a simple statement.

“And?” Chanhee asked with disinterest lacing his words, clearly above caring about such boring matters. The bearer of news looked around, waiting a long beat before blurting out what was followed by a stunned silence:

“It’s Kim Sunwoo.”

Everybody had heard of Kim Sunwoo.

He had almost as many gossips about his birth as you did. Why? Because your fates were connected. It was written in the stars.

Everybody had a plaque of constellations from the time they were born, it was kept in the royal observatory, Cheonbugwan. Your maternal grandfather had worked there and even though he had been long gone before you were born, you had always thought of him when you entered the place, imagining him hovering above the black plaques splattered with white spots.

You were six when your mother had first taken you there. She wasn't supposed to but King Gowon had a soft spot towards your parents – saying he shared a turtle with them had been an ongoing joke that you never understood –, so he allowed the exception. Your parents had suffered a lot due to your father's constellation after all.

You had heard their story over and over: Jang Uk, only son of the Jang family, had been born under the King's Star in the sky, destined for majestic things. Almost everybody who knew about it had been killed just to keep it as a secret, to not let anybody know that Jang Uk was actually the son of the belated king who practiced the dark magic called alchemy of souls to switch bodies with Jang Gang gwanju. Your mother's father, Cho Chung was a constellation recorder mage at the time, one of the unfortunate ones who had to die, taking your entire maternal family with him, so the king at the time could rule. Your mother had been taken in by a man who had trained her into a deadly assassin. Naksu had spread fear while she wanted to get revenge but she ended up switching souls – or more like sharing souls – with a girl who was unbeknownst to her the lost daughter of the Jin family, a powerful priestess. Your father had fallen in love with her as an assassin and as a priestess too and that's how you had been born as the daughter of the two most powerful people of Daeho who had gone against every odd to be together.

Of course, it was only the version you and the family knew. Everybody else could only see that Jang Uk, the most powerful mage they had seen, the always rebel, had gone against Jinyowon’s strict leader and married her confined eldest daughter with whom they had saved Daeho.

With parents like that, you were expected of a lot. Especially after being born under the Morningstar which, as your mother explained, was a sign that you were destined to bring light into darkness. There were whispers about your fate all around Daeho.

Just as much as about Kim Sunwoo’s.

His life was irrevocably intertwined with yours since he was said to have been born with the energy of the Firebird that your parents had killed.

You and Changmin were out to visit the iron master of the town for the new throwing stars Jeongjinrak ordered. Some, like that prick Jaehyun, would have thought that it was beneath you to do such things but you actually liked to do errands like this. Things might not have been as strict as they had been in your parents' time, not even allowing for family visits unless it was an urgent situation, but the training center of Songrim still felt stuffy sometimes. You liked to visit the lively market or play stone skipping with your friends whenever you had had enough of the constant sword and mind practice. Master Seo was your parents' friend – as well as Songrim's leader, Park Danggu –, so he made sure to often remind you that you didn't have to push yourself too much, that you should not break under the pressure of expectations but it was hard. Both of your parents had defeated death at least once, how could you just live a normal mage's or priestess' life? You were ought to do grand things.

One day.

Today your biggest problem was how to steal some time to visit Kim ahjussi's chicken soup stall before you had to go back to Jeongjinrak. That was, until a bright voice called your name. You let out a groan. Just what you missed from your day.

"Y/N! Changmin! So nice to see you. Running an errand I see," the boy dressed in silk stated cheerfully.

"Your Highness," your friend greeted the Crown Prince politely when he slipped into your view, successfully halting your steps. Sometimes you truly wondered how his eunuch kept up with him but the loyal servant was behind him like a shadow.

"Youngjae," you sighed, calling him by his first name, a privilege you had because you had played with him since you two had been kids. Your mother had helped the king find a suitable queen after all. However, with the boy following you around like a hyperactive puppy, some people thought he was pursuing you with serious intentions because you marrying into the royal family would have meant adjoining multiple influential families of Daeho. But it was as unlikely as the Sun suddenly rising from the West. Youngjae was like your little brother at most, you couldn’t look at him any other way.

"Any plans on visiting the palace any time soon? It gets boring without company."

"I'm sure you have more than enough people around you," you eyed the poor eunuch who always followed the boy around.

"But that's not the same, they are court servants, they don't have a choice," the prince whined and tried to use his puppy eyes on you.

Before you started your official training, you indeed spent a lot of time on palace grounds with him, especially when your parents were out hunting down whatever creature terrorized the people. They either took you to Jinyowon to stay with your cousins or the palace during those times. That's where you learned sparring from palace guards, ate the most delicious food in seven provinces and decided that you were never ever going to marry into the royal family. You could not stand the hypocrisy and conspiracies. You might have gotten used to the whispers behind your back but the palace was a whole nother level. You would have felt sorry for Youngjae if he experienced the same but he seemed blissfully unaware of his surroundings like the spoiled brat he was.

"We could have a sparring battle! Winner gets to make a wish!" The prince threw in as if it was such a novel idea but you only had to exchange a glance with Changmin to know that he had already had enough of this, too.

"You have lost every single time before. Didn't you have enough?" You sighed but Youngjae just grinned, ever so optimistic.

"It's called determination. Just watch and see, one day I will beat you."

"Good luck with that," you said a bit bitterly, internally adding but that day won't be today as you turned the corner the next time you saw a chance for it. There were many people at the market and many stalls with colorful goods put on display, so you slipped underneath a table, crawling behind the stall and slipped through a crack between two wooden houses, moving farther from the busy streets of the market.

It might not have been nice, slipping away like that but your family was already obligated to attend the equinox ceremony at the palace over the next weekend and you had more important things to care about than chit-chatting with a bored prince.

You looked behind you, checking the crowd just in case Youngjae could keep up with you but you saw no sign of him or Changmin. You hoped your friend could get away too without being dragged into an unnecessary fight with His Highness to save his pride. You were still busy looking over the mass of people when you stumbled as your shoulder hit something firm.

"Sorry," you mumbled on instinct since you were brought up to be polite but a moment later you froze, confused. Sure, you didn't look ahead where you were going while you were watching your back, so anybody could have thought it was natural to bump into somebody on your way but you usually didn't make mistakes like that. With your inherited power to sense energy, you could usually tell if you were near somebody. But this time, something was off. You couldn't have named what was different but something was unique about this person's energy and it didn't feel right. You turned your gaze up at the stranger but half of his face was covered with a scarf and he wore a hood over his head. You could only catch a glimpse of his dark eyes, crimson locks and sharp gaze before he continued his way, his long sword draped across his back like a warning.

You looked after him with furrowed brows, confused but snapped out of your trance when somebody called your name. You straightened your back and looked at Changmin who waved to you from the other side of the road, alone. You smiled back at him mischievously because it seemed so that His Highness had lost another game of his.

Jeongjinrak had already been buzzing with anticipation and rumors about the new arrival but it wasn't until the next afternoon sword practice that Kim Sunwoo arrived.

The lively chatter of the hall died down as soon as Master Seo walked in carrying an authoritative aura around him despite his youthful features. Then the whispering started because the man was followed by a boy wearing the mage trainees' silver-blue uniform, his burgundy locks kept out of his face with a similar headband. He didn't look scary or vengeful like the rumors suggested but there was some kind of searing coldness around him, something unusual about his magic, you could tell, so you didn't take your eyes off him.

"Everyone, this is Kim Sunwoo, the institution's newest student," Seo Yul introduced the newbie calmly, not reprimanding the murmuring crowd for once.

"Can he even wield a sword?"

"Does he really do dark magic?"

"Is he going to practice with us?"

Hushed questions and curious gazes were sent in the boy's direction but he seemed unbothered by it all. He just stood there and stared ahead, hands behind his back. His presence was a bit… underwhelming. The rumors about him claimed he was dangerous and deadly, that he was about to bring destruction like the Firebird whose energy he had been apparently born with. But he looked like just a boy and really, you should have known better than to believe gossip after the telltales about you as well.

"He's going to join the training from now. Welcome him nicely," Master Seo finished his speech and clapped his hands, encouraging the pupils to get into position around the practice dolls. The place wasn't big enough for everybody to have their own, so you usually took turns in groups of 2 or 3 to practice different attacking techniques.

Everybody seemed wary of letting the new boy join their group and he didn't seem keen to ask about it either. You exchanged a glance with Changmin as a silent question and he shrugged with no objection. He was friends with you too despite the rumors about you, so you knew he wasn't judgemental when it came to prophecies. Having a High Priestess as your mother you did believe in fate but you also thought that it was not unchangeable and often these prophecies were vague enough to not know their true meaning until much later.

So you were about to call over for the new boy, telling him to join your group, so you could show him how these kinds of practices worked but before you could have done so, Jaehyun stepped in the way of Kim Sunwoo. With his pride you knew that it was bad news, especially when Juyeon and Younghoon, his equally popular and self-assured friends, followed.

"Is it true that your parents are dead?" Jaehyun asked and you sucked in a breath. Of course, he had to pick bones with the new kid on his first day. He just couldn't sit on his spoiled ass in peace. Typical.

"Why does it matter to you?" Sunwoo spoke up for the first time since he had arrived and his voice was deeper than you expected but just as cold as his appearance. And even though he was talking quietly, in the tense silence of the practice room where barely anybody pretended to not pay attention his words could be heard clearly.

"Did you kill them?" Jaehyun pressed on, such an asshole move.

"Why, wanna die too?" The redhead spat back at him but Jaehyun just laughed as if it was funny.

You looked around but saw no supervisors which, in retrospect, was no surprise, Jaehyun usually only put on his big boy pants when his uncle or his men weren't around.

"I was just curious. How can somebody walk around with the blood of their parents on their hands," he said and that was when you felt a sudden shift in the energy, something hot and surging like lava boiling up, then a moment later Sunwoo unsheathed his sword, the point of its blade stopping right under Jaehyun's chin. The metal didn't glow blue like usually when a mage's energy shifted into ot, rather it looked like it was smoldering as if it burned scorching hot. You had never seen something like this.

"One more word about my parents and I will walk out of here with your blood on my hands," Sunwoo hissed and based on the arrogant grin on the other's face, he just couldn't get the seriousness of the situation. He was so sure that nobody would dare to hurt him as a relative of the King. But he couldn't feel the darkening energy that started to envelope the room, the building up anger and the weight of such power that was ready to burst.

"Just shut up, Jaehyun," you snapped at the boy harshly and tugged on Kim Sunwoo's arm that held the weapon to pull him away. He barely nudged and his skin felt feverish even over the layers of his uniform. You yanked your hand back because it almost burned, what the hell.

Sunwoo's dark eyes focused on you for a moment and it was when you realized where you had already sensed his energy. At the market a few days ago. You couldn't feel the unusualness of his energy this time when he walked into the hall but now, it was sharp and clear like the smell of rain after a storm.

The boy glared at you as if he had any reason to be mad at you and before anybody could have stopped him, he pushed past Jaehyun's gang, out of the main hall.

Him storming out of the place wasn't left uncommented, of course. Master Seo's nephew claimed that the newbie overreacted while others muttered about his bad temper and how the situation could have gotten worse if you didn't interfere. Not that Jaehyun was grateful, he clearly thought that he was handling the situation perfectly. And Kim Sunwoo… he might not have needed your help to protect himself but his actions clearly showed that he had no idea what kind of people were at Jeongjinrak. If he had seriously injured Jaehyun, his father wouldn't have left him unpunished and as an orphan Sunwoo probably didn't have anybody powerful enough who would have stood up for him. It was better if he didn't stir trouble with the Seo–Lee family.

You didn't know what to expect from Kim Sunwoo after his first day bravado but he showed up the next day at the practice room earlier than anybody and he sat in the back at the history lesson held by Park Danggu. His swordsmanship wasn't elegant at all, it looked like he either self-studied it or picked it up from a very shabby master but even like that, he had clearly reached Jipsu and Ryusu because he could gather energy of water flow and direct it to his opponent during a fight. He had a very street-like technique if it could even be named one but he still managed to land the three blows needed to win in your practice fights against Younghoon who was left speechless on the ground after the last energy burst pushed him to his butt. It made you wonder whether he had come to your training center to learn how to master his skills to their full potential or he had another reason. Most people don't join Jeongjinrak at his level or as late as his age.

Sunwoo seemed to have become an expert in ignoring Jaehyun's remarks which (to your greatest delight) annoyed the hell out of the noble guy. However, sometimes you could tell that the accusations hit too close to home. You could sense the shift in energy or get a whiff of smoke and when you walked by Sunwoo's seat, you saw that he had left a burnt handprint on the wooden desk. Even though Sunwoo didn't hurt anybody, he wasn't particularly nice to the other pupils, which didn't help the rumors. Some said he would snap one day and burn the whole place down and judging by the dark look in his eyes, you wouldn't have been too surprised either. Though unlike others you doubted he had come to Jeongjinrak with that purpose.

"I heard there's some uproar at the academy these days," your father brought up casually one dinner when you were allowed to be outside of the establishment. "Not gonna lie, it has been strangely calm ever since Yul took over."

"He's working hard, come on," your mother tsked, amused as always whenever it was about their friends and their bickering.

"I'm not saying he doesn't, but he might get bored there at this rate," your father mused out loud, picking out a honey biscuit from the bowl on the table and you knew he was just joking because he had done a lot so that Daeho could be as peaceful as it was.

"It's not really an uproar. Just a new guy," you shrugged. You didn't want to give too much meaning to the prophecies and predicaments about his and your future, you didn't want that to influence anything. Not after how unfairly mage masters had treated your father in the past because of such things.

"Just a guy with the Firebird's energy," your father pointed out mimicking the casual way you talked and your gazes met when you looked up to glare at him sulkily. You didn't want to worry your mother, so it would have been better if she didn't even know it. Wishful thinking, your father never kept secrets from your mother. Who was now looking at you, bewildered.

"Is it true?"

"Yeah. But he isn't that bad. Like, yes, his energy feels a bit wrong and wild but he keeps it under control," you said because the last thing you wanted was to be withdrawn from training just because your mother was worried. You were often told that you were a lot like her actually: reckless when it was about your own safety but fiercely protective when it came to your loved ones.

"Well, not every unknown or powerful is evil. There better not be another witch hunt out of fear," your mother concluded with a hand over yours, lightly squeezing. "It's actually better that he is here, supervised than being out there, doing god knows what. If he becomes dangerous, we can protect you here."

You sighed, having had enough of being treated like a baby.

"Mom! I can protect myself."

"Sure you can, our brave daughter," your father joined with a fond smile and ruffled your hair. He stuffed honey biscuits into your mouth to suppress your big girl complaints.

You could be the best mage pupil at Jeongjinrak but you would always be the beloved daughter of Cho Yeong and Jang Uk.

You weren't looking for trouble, really. It was a mere precaution. Keep your friends close but your enemies closer or whatever. If you were indeed destined nemesis with Kim Sunwoo, you should have known what he was up to. Did he really only come to Jeongjinrak to be a better mage? Did he even want to be an integrated part of society? Where did he learn how to fight like that? What else was there to his story?

You had a dozen questions which could only be answered by the guy himself but even after weeks of attending the academy, he still wasn't befriending anybody. Not even Haknyeon with whom he had been doing sparring practice lately. So you did the next best thing you could do instead of talking to him: you followed him when you caught sight of him slipping away under the dark of night after the curfew started.

It wasn't the first time you broke this rule of Jeongjinrak but it was the first time when it was because of a boy.

Sunwoo didn't go far, just over the walls, to a small abandoned house with an extinguished pit of fire in its garden. He stopped there, circling around the charred black ground then sat down with his legs crossed. You watched him from over the top of the walls, not wanting to make any further noise by jumping down on the other end and risking getting caught. You wanted to see what he was doing without him knowing after all. So then you waited.

After a few moments passed and nothing happened, Sunwoo looked like he was in the middle of a deep meditation, so you kind of regretted the awkwardly uncomfortable position you chose. You had good stamina but pulling yourself up onto a wall with only half your weight supported by a tree branch… it wasn't ideal. But then, after more minutes of just waiting, something happened, something that shouldn't have been possible: the dry leaves and branches in front of the sitting boy suddenly burst into flames as if he had stroked stones against each other to spark a fire. However, Sunwoo did no such thing, in fact he did not move at all. While he was with his back to you, so you couldn't tell for sure but you would have bet that he had his eyes closed. He just shifted energy to fire and if it wasn't enough proof, you saw him raise a hand and form a little ball of fire in his palm. It was the same thing you were taught to do with water but you had never seen, never even heard of anybody being able to do that with fire.

Your magic was based on the energy of the sky that ruled the wind, the clouds and rain. It was the first thing kids learned. It was a definite truth like the Sun rising in the East. It was taught at the first class you took at Jeongjinrak: that the energy from above crashed into the water basin next to Daeho, Lake Gyeongcheondo, and it brought powerful magic to the ground. The same lake that became the burial place of the Firebird twenty or so years ago. Right when Sunwoo was born.

You should have gone back to the dormitory then, finally knowing what he was doing but questions kept stirring up in you and you couldn't just leave. As you straightened yourself from the cramping position, the branch creaked beneath your weight and you could see Sunwoo perk his ears at the sound. It was time to quit hiding.

"So this is why you sneak out? Honestly, I expected something more exciting," you spoke up casually as you swang one leg after the other over the wall and hopped down elegantly on the other side. You dusted your hands down in your overskirt and stepped closer to the small fire.

"Like what? Hiding bodies?" The boy asked stiffly.

He was watching you as if he couldn't tell your motives and he was probably right to do so. But you didn't spy on him just so you could tell on him or blackmail him, it was merely to satisfy your own curiosity.

"Pranking Jaehyun's gang or something," you said with a nonchalant shrug which made Sunwoo scoff. Unlike his usual neutral expression, he almost looked amused then, so you decided it was safe to ask more.

"You know who I am, right?" You started off as you sat down across him, watching as he was drawing patterns into the ash. It might have sounded like a self-flattery question but you knew your reputation and most people didn't act around you like he did. Considering that you were even said to be each others' nemesis.

"Who doesn't?" Sunwoo rolled his eyes but it didn't quite answer your question. Or well, not the underlying one you were actually curious about. Of course, he knew you, you were in one class but it didn't mean he knew about your family, your power.

"And the prophecy about us?"

"I don't believe in such things," he said coldly, looking up at you. He looked serious and you didn't know how to feel about it. Obviously you were glad that he wasn't outright antagonistic against you but you did believe in fate and him not caring about it was off putting. "Why? Did you expect me to attack you the moment we met?"

So he did know about it.

"No," you mumbled, feeling a bit confused because whenever you did imagine meeting him, you thought it would be under much more disturbing circumstances. With Daeho in danger for example. Or that he would be evil. He didn't seem like that but one could never know for real.

So you changed the topic. There was no use sticking to one about destiny when he didn't believe in it.

"Why are you out here practicing alone?" You looked around the abandoned neighborhood. Sure, people might have looked at him weirdly if they saw he was practicing a kind of skill that was unlike any other you had encountered before but that was because people were always wary of unfamiliar things.

"It's not something others can teach me. My old mentor said that it's unprecedented, so…" Sunwoo just shrugged, resigned. "I get it. It's unnatural. Most people fear me."

You knew that feeling, being looked at with fear just because you could do something others couldn't. Being the daughter of a powerful priestess and a mage with a dark past without others knowing that your mother's soul had also been an assassin could have either made you an outcast or popular. You weren't a fan of either but the mage students at Jeongjinrak would have never dared to treat you the way they did Sunwoo.

“And your parents?” You blurted out, wondering if they could accept him the way he was or they were afraid too. Because you were lucky in that sense because your parents understood your feeling of oddness among your peers. Sunwoo however took your question in a different direction and it rendered you speechless for a moment.

“They died. In fire.”

Oh. So Jaehyun was right about one thing but it still didn't mean that it was Sunwoo's fault. But the way he cast his eyes down, the ember warming up under his stare, you could feel his regret and guilt consuming his energy, so you didn't dare to ask about details.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, not in pity but sympathy.

Sunwoo hummed but didn't react otherwise. He didn't seem angry or bothered. It made you wonder when was the last time he felt understood, listened to. It made you want to pat his back and tell him that it was going to be okay.

You were quiet for a while, listening to the crickets chirp and you were sure Sunwoo stalled his practice because of you, so you wanted to reassure him that you weren't afraid of him, that he could keep trying but what came out of your mouth was more like a curious inquiry.

"Don't take it in a negative way but why did you come to Jeonjinrak? If you still need to learn by yourself."

The boy sighed but still answered patiently as if he believed you would leave him alone once you ran out of your questions. Or maybe he didn’t want to be left alone. He seemed a bit lonely.

"My mentor was old, he told me to come here if he couldn't teach me anymore. He once saw me trying with a sword and the way I lost control over fire. He tried his best to teach me the basics of energy control but I had nobody to actually practice fighting with. I'm still not very good."

That he said but he never lashed out and burned anything down no matter how much Jaehyun pushed him. You thought he didn't give enough credit to himself.

“Let’s train together. Not to brag but I’m the best among Master Seo’s pupils,” you exclaimed with your chin raised high proudly, a bit playful and you pretended to feel offended when Sunwoo looked at you doubtfully. “Hah, don’t look at me like that! You don’t believe me?”

You stood up, dusting off your skirt, and drew your sword out, poking the guy’s chest with the blade’s pointy end gently to nudge him too. He laughed, genuinely, for the first time since you had known him but complied. He pushed himself to his feet too and faced you with his drawn sword.

You striked first, just testing the ground, his level, but he blocked easily, so your little sparring practice turned heated soon. Heated in a literal sense because while your sword was glowing blue from the floating water energy in the air but after a while, Sunwoo’s started to look like it was burning, with a reddish glow to it. You could feel his energy too, just like anybody’s else, but this was new because unlike most people’s energy state, his felt unpredictable. He almost scorched you with one fireball sent your way but you managed to get out of its way at the last minute before using the boy’s apologetic self to your advantage to attack back. After a while, he stopped holding back and fearing that his power would hurt you or get out of control. It felt freeing, you could tell, and watching his smile lightened by the sunrise’s glow, you felt lighter too.

There was no prophecy worth dedicating your life to just to despise somebody who didn’t deserve it and really, maybe you could write your own history.

Once he let his guards down and let people get closer, Sunwoo made friends easily at Jeongjinrak. Changmin was excited that he finally had somebody to annoy you with and Haknyeon now had a study buddy in the mage library because Sunwoo had a lot to catch up on when it came to theoretical and history knowledge of your kind. When it came to practical classes, he usually joined your group and you could tell that it annoyed the hell out of Jaehyun’s circle that he wasn’t a lonely wolf anymore.

He wasn’t the only one watching you warily though. You could see Master Seo eyeing your duo worriedly whenever he passed by the practice room but didn’t interfere. You were sure he knew what was said about your future and that he meant well but you hoped he wouldn’t tell on you to your parents. Based on how protective they were of you, you knew they wouldn’t have been too happy about your sudden friendship with the boy with the Firebird’s energy.

And then there was Youngjae, of course. He had no idea about the prophecy and yet, he just had to be nosy.

“I don’t like that you hang out with him so much,” he said when you were in his royal quarters, feeding the turtles in the garden pond.

You just rolled your eyes, didn’t even spare time to answer as you crouched down, holding out a fresh leaf to one of the animals. Times like this always remind you of your childhood. When you were too young and too naive and your parents sent you and the Crown Prince to the garden to play while they talked about politics and dangers. They still treated you like kids but you knew better now.

“Are you listening? He’s said to be dangerous,” Youngjae whined and you weren’t sure he was more worried or jealous. Not the romantic kind of jealousy though. There might have been rumors but you didn’t think that the prince had interest in you like that. Sure, he might have been more comfortable being close to you than any foreigner princess he hadn’t known, but he was more jealous of Sunwoo getting to spend time with you while he couldn’t. He had been surrounded by people all the time and yet, he was so, so lonely. The fate of a ruler.

You acted nonchalant whenever he whined but secretly you hoped that his future bride would be able to fill this void in him.

“Who said that?” You asked, disinterest coloring your voice pale.

“Everybody!”

You sighed and after leaving the last piece of leaf on the ground, among the moss, you stood up to face Youngjae.

“Don’t believe everything you hear,” you lectured him with a disapproving tsk before curling your lips into a confident smile. “And even if he was dangerous, you shouldn’t underestimate me.”

You bowed towards the boy lightly, polite within the walls of the palace, and when he tried to follow you, you scolded him that it wouldn’t be proper of him to go after you into the outhouse which made him flustered down the core and gave you the chance to slip away without him or any of the servants following closely.

However, you passed by the outhouse without stopping by and wandered towards the king’s quarters. He had summoned your parents over an important issue and you wanted to know what it was because your always recklessly brave mother looked worried when she read the summoning letter. And if anybody caught you snooping around, you could just tell them that you didn’t feel well and were looking for your parents to ask for a leave. Not that they would have believed you ‒ they knew you too well ‒ but others might have.

“But… how did it get out? I thought, only Jin priestesses can open the door to Jinyowon,” King Gowon’s deep voice was hushed. He clearly didn’t want others to know about whatever caused disturbance. It must have been important if he needed your parents, both of them, to help him out.

“That is true but there might be other hidden entrances we don’t know of like the ones from the mirror world or Gwido,” your mother enlightened him and you furrowed your brows. You had no idea that the dangerous relic storage of your maternal home had other entrances other than the one overgrown with ivy creeper, the one that couldn’t have been forced open. It only opened for those of the Jin blood. You had been there a few times, always a short visit and you were never allowed to touch anything but you had heard stories of the time of Great Chaos. Jinyowon was on the verge of collapse and many things, monsters, escaped. They started causing hunger, drought and deaths, so it was your parents’ task to put them back to their lawful places.

“You should capture it as soon as possible. The last thing we need is disturbance before the the Moon Festival,” the king said and hearing your father’s promise and steps, you quickly pulled away from the wall to get away.

Their conversation didn’t leave you be though. What exactly had got out of Jinyowon and how?

You and Sunwoo kept practicing both in daylight and after the Sun went down.

He had improved a lot in his control and precision over the weeks but you were still better. There was one thing in which he was excellent at though, with much more experience that you had: archery. He had said it was because he was used to living close to the woods and hunting for his own food but you thought there was more to it. So while you were teaching him energy control, he taught you archery, it was only fair.

“You’re getting better but your stance is still too unstable,” he noted after you two checked where your arrows managed to hit the target. They weren’t as scattered as they used to be and you hit the board with each arrow at least, but it was nowhere near as concentrated around the center as Sunwoo’s. Your aim still needed some work.

“I’m trying but I’m not used to standing still for this kind of thing,” you admitted irritatedly because the fighting technique you learned involved a lot of movements and agility and logically speaking you knew that even if you needed to use your archery skills in real life it would be on the go but to improve your aim, first you needed to learn how to keep steady.

“I know. Get into position again,” Sunwoo instructed you and with a huff of sigh, you walked farther from the target with your arrows back into your quiver and faced the tree from a distance, ready to draw your weapon when the boy stood behind you.

“Close your eyes,” he said quietly, his breath fanning over your neck. Fighting a shiver and a snicker about his weird teaching technique, you did as he told you. The world went dark around you as you closed your eyelids and you were especially aware of the roughness of wood against your calloused fingertips, the heat of another body beside yours and the sound of your own breathing.

Sunwoo put a hand over your shoulder and pulled it backwards until you straightened your back, getting into the correct position. He then fixed your fingers around your bow leaving little tingles in their wake behind. You took a deep breath when his touch brushed against the ribbon in your hair.

“What do you feel?” Sunwoo asked quietly, his voice fighting the breeze of air, swimming through the ocean of your thoughts.

“Calm,” you surprised yourself with your honesty as you realized that the feelings that washed over you was serenity. Ever since you overheard your parents talking with the king and you learned from Lady Kim that your family home was empty for days, your thoughts had been running wild and you jumped into training after training to suppress the turbulence of your mind. Sunwoo didn’t ask what was up with you, but he readily practiced with you until you were exhausted enough to fall asleep.

“Good. Then try to concentrate on other senses of yours except sight. Take a sniff of the smell of spring, feel the wind lead your arrow, hear the birds, feel the tenseness of your bow… then when you took in your entire surroundings, open your eyes and shoot,” the boy said and you didn’t needed to see or have special priestess powers to be able to tell he stepped farther away but you didn’t open your eyes.

You followed his lead and let your senses strengthen as you focused from flower to flower, tree to tree. As a priestess you had a very sensitive power to be able to tell where and what kind of energy was and even though it was the strongest in mages and other magical creatures, it was everywhere around you: under the ground, up in the sky, in every blade of grass and blossom that fell from the trees. The more you let yourself get immersed in nature, the clearer you saw what was around you without having to open your eyes. Then you finally understood what Sunwoo had said that the key was to be aware of your surroundings.

You slowly pried your eyes open, your sole focus on the target in front of you, clearer than ever. You drew the bow string tight and sent the arrow flying and it hit the target, bull’s eye.

“Oh my, did you see that?” You turned to face Sunwoo in disbelief, excitement bubbling in your veins from the achievement while a proud smile spread over the boy’s face. He probably took pride in your improvement similarly as when you saw him land a Chisu blow the other day.

“See? I told you that you can do it,” he said, the wind brushing his burgundy hair into his face which made you want to reach there and rake your fingers through his locks. But you just stood there, staring, the energy flowing around you and you couldn’t help but blurt out your fresh observation.

“Your heart is beating fast.”

Sunwoo’s smile didn’t fade. He didn’t protest. He knew it would have been in vain or maybe he didn’t even want to.

“Because you are deadly,” he said and you let out a scoff at the teasing, ready with a retort that died on your tongue when you heard the terrified scream.

Your eyes widened and you exchanged a brief look with Sunwoo before without any spoken word, both of you started running towards the source of the noise. The closer you got to the town, the more screams were heard and people came running from the opposite direction which only slowed you down. You could tell by the unmistakable smell of smoke that something was burning, yet the heat from the flames when you got there still felt haunting. You could already see Songrim officials handle the situation by directing water to the fire to put it out but you wanted to help. You crouched down next to an old lady who must have fallen and offered her a helping hand, hoping that she wasn't too shaken up. You didn't expect her to mumble about the sudden attack, the fire ball bursting in front of the gates and the chaos. Much less the frightened look on her face as she looked up.

“It’s him!” A woman pointed to your left and muscles pulled taut, ready to face the enemy, you turned, pointing your sword at the said direction only to see Sunwoo there.

You furrowed your brows, confused, but the woman didn’t take back her accusation and others around you backed her up too, claiming that it was him setting a fire to the noble’s house. What? Who were they confusing him with?

“That’s impossible. He was with me the whole time,” you shouted over the chaos, lowering your sword but the murmurs barely subdued and people still looked at him in fear. It left a bitter taste in your mouth as you watched Sunwoo's shocked, saddened face. With his reputation, it was almost too easy to blame him.

So close to the biggest festival in the capital, Songrim didn't want to risk being accused of having bias when it came to Jeongjinrak's students, so as the publicly appointed suspect was Sunwoo, he had to go through a not too pleasant interrogation.

Since you were his alibi, you were questioned as well and since both of you were outside of the training center when it happened, you knew that you would face Master Seo’s punishment for sneaking out and breaking the rules anyways.

“And are you absolutely sure that he was with you the entire time?” Your uncle, Songrim’s leader, looked at you expectantly and without hesitation, you nodded.

“I told you: we were practicing archery then we heard the scream at the same time and went to see what happened. We found the building already burning though by the time we got there. No sign of who did it,” you recited for the third time at least when the same question was asked differently.

However, this was the only occasion when uncertainty hit you as you thought back on events. Could you really be sure? Was Sunwoo really with you from the beginning to the end? You had your eyes closed for minutes. Could he… Nah, that was crazy. Why would he have done that anyways? He had no motive and it was unrealistic that he could have left and come back without you noticing.

“Alright. I believe you but please, try to stay out of trouble. At least until your parents are not out of town,” Park Danggu pleaded with a fatherly tone and you knew that your parents would know about your little rebellious act by his next letter to them. Even if he wasn’t friends with your father, his wife was your mother’s little sister, so there were really no secrets between them. You didn't make any promises though.

“Do you know anything about them? Or how is their search going?” You grabbed onto the chance to ask because you haven't heard much of them since they had left. They had sent you honey biscuits every three days and it was their sign that they were alright but you didn't know anything about the mission itself.

“Don’t worry about them. They know what they are doing. I’m sure they will be back soon. They are honor guests at the festival after all,” Songrim's leader tried to reassure you with a smile. Since you were done there, you bowed out of respect, thanking when he invited you over to dinner sometime, claiming that the twins, your oldest cousins, were missing you.

Things were quiet for a while. The rules got stricter around Jeongjinrak and the other mage pupils blamed you and Sunwoo as if they didn’t sneak out from time to time. Though it was true that you were the only one who got caught, what should you have done? Ignore the screams and sneak back to the comfort of your bed without trying to help at least? Cowards.

So you thought it was a one time thing, a misunderstanding but one night when the moon was at its brightest you woke to a heavy weight over your chest. It was like waking up from a nightmare without remembering any details. You put a hand over your heart and tried to concentrate, to identify this bad feeling.

Your mother could not only feel energy better than any mage but she could tell exactly what kind of energy it was. That was why she and your father were the perfect team to hunt down creatures of ill-intent. You didn't have her expertise but you could tell that the energy that was floating around you then had something malicious and wrong about it. You got out of bed, peaking out of your room but there was only eerie silence.

Then, the next moment you heard the watchbell's loud sound. You grabbed an overcoat to cover your nightgown and your sword. On the corridor, you met other sleepy students in similar attire as you all ran towards the gathering place.

"Changmin!" You called over to the boy when you saw him and he caught up with you quickly.

"Hey, do you know what's happening?"

"No idea. Something just feels off," you said and glanced around, looking for other familiar faces.

You had gone a bit further away already when you eventually noticed the smoke. You weren't the only one, others pointed it out too and you could hear the gasp.

"The library is burning!" Somebody yelled and a simple sentence like that was enough to cause havoc because instead of stopping and waiting at the gathering place, most people continued the run to the building on fire. You exchanged a glance with Changmin, then you both headed towards that direction too.

The closer you got, the stronger the strange feeling was. You tried to ignore it and see if you could help but Master Seo and his men were already handling the fire while some were chasing down the arsonist. You could hear people yelling about him escaping towards Jeongjinrak's Eastern walls. You didn't hesitate: you climbed up the nearest building and ran in the same direction from rooftop to rooftop. Without the crowd and distractions on the ground, you were much faster like this. Fast enough to see the hooded black figure swing over the wall, jumping right after him.

"Stop!" You shouted but, of course, it was only in vain, a way to tire your throat out, not the troublemaker. But since he wasn't listening, you had no choice but to attack, sending a wave of energy his way to knock him off his feet. He stumbled but carried on, determined until the end you had to give it to him.

Your second blow was stronger, the assailant fell and it gave you enough momentum to catch up with him. You pushed his body more to the ground by his shoulders and hovered over him even when you forcefully turned him around and tore the hood part of the cape off his head.

Then, the world tilted around its axis and you froze under the watch of that familiar face.

“Sunwoo?” You asked shakily, confused, but the boy stared back at you with disdain and it was a strike constant to his playful smile he had said goodbye with a few hours prior.

It was Sunwoo but at the same time it wasn’t: he looked exactly the same as the last time you saw him except his eyes. They were coal black and emotionless. They were scaring you. Just like the darkness of the energy swirling inside him.

"What happened to you?" You asked in a shaky voice, not sure if he could hear or understand you because he stared so emptily as if he was nothing but a shell. "Sunwoo…"

You tried gentler but to no avail, the guy's eyes turned sharper the moment he heard approaching steps and the next moment you flinched away because of the burning feeling running up your arm. Only when you stumbled farther did the pain subside and looking down at your overcoat, you saw the burnt mark of a hand over your upper arm.

In disbelief, you stared at the wound and took a tentative step backwards when Sunwoo, this possessed Sunwoo, came closer. You pointed your sword at him.

"Don't come near me," you warmed him, the 'or else' clear in your tone, yet the real reason for your warning was that you didn't want to hurt him but if he didn't stop, you would have to. "Sunwoo, please…"

The swish of an arrow was the first thing you saw next, then Sunwoo, grabbing onto his arm in pain and while you searched for the attacker he ran away, more arrows flying after him.

"Stop!" You yelled at the stranger over the walls, angry and desperate, not knowing what to do to bring back the boy, the Sunwoo you knew. The guy with the bow jumped off next to you and the red strands of his hair made you wonder whether you were hallucinating.

"Sunwoo?" You asked, unsure, the witchcraft making you doubtful.

"It's me," the boy said, quiet and warm, just the way you knew him.

"Sunwoo," you called his name in relief and hugged him close, closing your eyes as you let his body’s warmth embrace you. It was like a soothing balm unlike the cold roughness the other emitted. The world was finally alright again. "What happened? Do you know who he was or…"

You couldn't even finish the sentence. You were roughly yanked away from Sunwoo who was held down by two officers, ties and eye cover on him like criminals. Songrim's leader and his men were all around you as well as students from Jeongjinrak who pointed their fingers at the kneeling boy accusatory. They had all seen him flee apparently. They had seen him attack soldiers. They had seen him create fire on the top of his palm. It was his doing, they claimed and if you hadn't seen the real one, you might have believed them.

You elbowed your way through the crowd and grabbed your uncle's arm, tugging.

“I know it sounds crazy but it wasn’t him. It looks exactly like him but it’s not him!” You protested but this time Park Danggu didn't seem convinced. "Please. You have to believe me!"

“Sorry. It will be the safest if we lock him up,” the man said firmly, with an apologetic sigh, and signaled his guards to capture the boy.

"It's alright," Sunwoo reassured you when he passed by you before you could have made a scene over the injustice. It was not alright but you knew that he meant well. If you were confined too for disobedience then who would have proved the truth?

You watched him being taken away and wondered if you took any missteps, if you were accused of using your priestess powers they couldn't understand to evil deeds, would they have turned against you so quickly too? Or would you have been privileged because of your parents? Sunwoo had nobody, so if you didn't help him, he would have been all alone in this. The thought clenched your heart uncomfortably.

But of course, being one of the spectators, Jaehyun couldn't shut up, not even when it was about things he didn't know, so unaware of your internal turmoil, he just had to brag to his friends that he had told them so, that he was right about Sunwoo all along.

“Good, that freak is finally at his deserved place,” he snickered purposefully loud enough for you to hear and you didn’t know what got into you but in that moment you saw red and didn’t even think. You stormed up to Jaehyun and punched him. Hard. It might have earned you suspension and red knuckles but at least it felt good.

Proving Sunwoo's innocence wasn't an easy feat. First of all, because only Changmin and Haknyeon dared to openly take your side and believe your story. Second of all, because there had been weeks between the two fire incidents you knew of and you couldn't just wait for another to happen, so it would prove that Sunwoo couldn't do something like that from captivity.

With the library half burnt down, it was hard to look for options in written history too and you wouldn't have known if Sunwoo had an evil twin because the prophecy would have surely pointed that out. Soul shifting was also not an option because you literally saw the two of them together, looking alike and all that. You were so out of options that you were about to visit a shaman and ask if they knew about black magic that could cause something like this but then your parents arrived home.

Clearly they had heard of what you had gotten yourself into from your uncle and didn't like it one bit. So of course, you got your fair share of scolding but it wasn't like they had been any better at your age and they knew.

"So you repeatedly sneaked out of Jeongjinrak after curfew to what… practice with that boy?"

"His name is Sunwoo."

Your father rolled his eyes as if he couldn't care less.

"At least you should have sneaked out for something more… important," he crossed his arms and it was funny, really, because your parents had always taught you to be honest and only follow rules that made sense. They probably knew you would hear enough stories about them being rebels from Park Jin and Lady Kim at least.

"Like when you sneaked out to meet mother?" You crossed your arms too and Jang Uk narrowed his eyes at you.

"Are you sure you only practiced sword fighting and archery?" He raised a brow and the implication only made sense to you a few seconds later.

"Oh my lord, yes! Not everybody is like you and mother! We have nothing like that going on. He's my friend," you clarified, louder and more defensive than intended. You tried not to think of the way Sunwoo’s hug had made you feel.

"Well, we were never quite friends, that's for sure," your mother piped in, amused, and took your father's hand before looking back at you, more serious this time. "Danggu told us you're convinced it wasn't the boy's doing despite multiple people giving his descriptions to the investigators. He said you were also with him both times the fires happened and he was found."

"Yes and that's why I'm sure it wasn't him," you quickly jumped on the chance to explain, grateful that your parents were willing to listen. At least it looked like it. "The second time I chased down the hooded figure running off the scene and when I caught up with him, I also thought it was Sunwoo. He looked just like him but his eyes and expressions… It was like a lifeless ghost's. It wasn't like him. And his energy felt different too, unnatural."

Your parents exchanged a knowing glance. Their secret little thing which used to annoy you because sometimes they communicated with only looks over the dinner table but in a way, you thought it was sweet, that they knew each other so well, like their souls were so intertwined.

"You know that something escaped from Jinyowon, right?" Your mother asked once they seemed to decide with your father to tell you that and you gave a short nod. It would have been a useless lie to deny that and you knew that they wouldn't have held the truth over your head, not as much as a lie. "Have you ever heard about the nail-eating mouse?"

"No, but I don't understand how it connects to Sunwoo's case," you admitted a bit confused. A mouse didn't sound too scary.

"This mouse eats nail clippings at night and literally turns into the person whose nails they were," they explained and oh, now that made sense.

"How long can it stay as that person?" You asked tentatively and you could tell that your mother was careful with her words as she answered.

"Usually a few days for each nail. Unless their victim dies while they are in their form, then forever."

You could feel your throat tighten at the possibility and there was this urge to go to wherever Sunwoo was kept and make sure he was well-guarded before anything like that could happen. But of course, your parents told you this on purpose and they didn't want you to go on a secret mission alone.

"It is our case, leave it to us. We will find the doppelganger and clear your friend's name, don't worry," they reassured you and you nodded, thankful but not quite convinced.

No matter how much you trusted your parents and their skills, you couldn't just sit still. You were their daughter after all and it wasn't in your blood.

You told Changmin and Hakyeon what you knew and you tried to figure out what was common about the fires so far. You didn't know anything about the noble whose house was the first incident while in the school there could be many targets. Not in the library though. In both cases the chaos and anger following was bigger than the number of casualties, so maybe that was one of the goals: attention.

"And let's not forget that both happened when Sunwoo was nearby. It's kind of smart if this copycat wants him to take the blame," Changmin added and you had to agree. Even though you were there both times too, it was unlikely that it was about you. After all, by now you were convinced that your supposed-to-be first encounter with Sunwoo, the one at the market where you felt something off about him, wasn't Sunwoo at all either and no fire broke out that day.

“Wait. Where is Sunwoo kept?” you asked frantically because if the doppelganger indeed attacked places near Sunwoo, it would make it easier to locate them.

Hakyeon, whose father worked at Songrim, seemed confused though.

“As far as I know in the palace’s holding cells, why?”

Sure, they must have thought that with so many guards around, he wouldn't cause further troubles and maybe that also meant he was safe but not if something burnt down and he was blamed. Nobody knew the extent of his skills with fire after all, not even him. And if the monster wanted attention…

“The Moon Festival!” You stood up at the realization because suddenly it was all too clear. If you were in their shoes, you would have surely let others do the dirty work. What better way to do it than causing havoc during one of the biggest events of the royal court? To save face, the king would have had to set an example. If they couldn't stop the fire otherwise, they would have to kill Sunwoo in hopes to stop it for sure.

But it wasn't enough that you were convinced. Your parents thought that the idea was too far-stretched. All this trouble to get Sunwoo's body? But it made sense to you and you couldn't help but wonder whether that prophecy was about this too. Not actually Sunwoo, but the monster wearing his face and stealing his powers.

Your parents also thought that the monster wouldn't have dared to attack the palace because it was too well-guarded, so they kept on with their usual 'searching for negative energy concentration over town' but that didn't work that effective so far, did it? So you had no choice, really. The festival was happening in two days and you had to plan how to sneak away from the celebration itself to the holding cells to warn Sunwoo. You knew only one person who could help you with that…

"No," the Crown Prince shook his head. "I told you not to trust him and now you want me to help you visit him in prison? No way."

You crossed your arms in front of your chest and glared at Youngjae.

"I will come and keep you company whenever you want for a month," you offered in exchange and you saw the surprised glint in the prince's eyes.

"Three months. If my father discovered us, I would be grounded for a month at least," he rebutted and even though you gritted your teeth, you could see the logic in his way of thinking.

"Two months because we won't get caught," you negotiated, your final offer before you tried to sneak in without his help. Youngjae might have been reluctant, but he wouldn't have let you do something like that on your own. Also, he was starving for some company these days, so you could pretty much predict him giving in.

"Alright, fine. But you have to promise not to help him escape once you are there!"

You made no such promises but not because you wanted to cause an even bigger trouble. Helping Sunwoo run away when he was a captured criminal wouldn't have helped his case, if anything it would have made him even more suspicious. So you really just wanted to warn him and give him a dagger he could have protected himself with since he didn't have his sword with him. However, you also didn't expect the Moon Festival to be so grandiose this year and the monster not being subtle either. Setting the table of offerings on fire in front of the entire royal court and the biggest noble families of Daeho? Crazy. But if he wanted attention he surely received enough. Other than angering the deities and the elders, doing such a thing wouldn't have affected anything else after all. It was a question of pride at this point. Or proving a point. He must have had a lot of fun playing this cat and mouse chase with them, not getting caught either times.

"We need to get to Sunwoo. Now," you said urgently as you saw Songrim's people scattering around probably to find the culprit because when they didn't, they would have surely ended up at Sunwoo's holding cell to question him.

"Hey," Youngjae grabbed your arm and turned you towards him, more serious than you had ever seen him. "Are you sure that it's not his doing?"

You scoffed as you shrugged his hand off you.

"Have you ever seen anybody who could do something like this while not being present? He may have unusual powers but not like this," you claimed, sure in your words, and the prince sighed sheepishly. He tilted his head towards the narrow street between two buildings and led you away from the crowd. You and Changmin followed him while Hakyeon stayed to keep an eye on the happenings. The holding cells were away from the center of the palace and you had to hurry. You were a bit out of breath by the time you made it to the sturdy building.

"I will call the guards away, then you will have a chance to sneak in. Your boy should be among the newest prisoners, so close to the entrance, right side," Youngjae turned to you one corner from the cells and you nodded, grateful, but when he moved to go closer, Changmin held him back.

"There are no guards," he said warily. You furrowed your eyebrows and peek out from your hiding spot to check. He was right. There were no guards in front of the holding cells. Instead there were unmistakable burnt marks, charred ground and wood.

You didn't hesitate. You ran inside the building only to find the bodies of the guards on the floor and your throat closed. What if you were late? What if the monster got here faster? Or worse, what if it was indeed Sunwoo's doing? What if you didn’t know him as well as you believed?

With your heart beating rapidly, you approached the right-hand side cells. Prisoners were either passively sleeping or cursing at you, seemingly unaware of what happened by the entrance. But when you reached a few cells down, you saw the metal lock melted to the ground, the door open, the insides empty and you felt your heart drop.

You cursed under your breath unlady-like and ran back out, following the lingering Firebird energy around you. Your mother said you only needed to concentrate to be able to distinguish such things so clearly, but you never really had the patience to do so. You always felt like you were more of your father's daughter, liking the feel of a sword in your hand and the spirit of fighting. Your Jin priestess skills didn't come that naturally. But then you remembered that day when you and Sunwoo were practicing archery and he taught you how to concentrate on nothing but the target. You closed your eyes, remembering his words, his touch. You forced yourself to relax, to calm down your heart, to forget about everything else. When you opened your eyes you felt a rush of power surge through you as you had never been more certain where to go.

"They are heading towards the western gates," you said and nobody doubted your words. This time it was you who led the way but you weren't sure what you would find when you got there. If you even caught up with Sunwoo in time. Would you help him or would you have to stop him?

You had no idea but you sure did not expect Jaehyun actually being helpful for once by holding them back. Even if unbeknownst to him.

Later you were told, he picked a petty fight with Sunwoo, or whom he thought to be Sunwoo, when he passed by him in the gardens, only to be confused when the actual Sunwoo showed up, chasing after the first. He then joked, asking which twin was the nicer one, and almost got himself sliced in half when the doppelganger attacked him. If Sunwoo was half as good of a swordsman as he was, Jaehyun would have been dead. Instead he was just shocked and enraged by the time you got there, watching as the two Sunwoos fought.

It was a sight indeed, two identical guys with burning swords at each other's throat. If it was anybody else, they wouldn't have known who was the real one and who was the doppelganger but you could feel it in the way energy surrounded them. The Firebird's energy surrounded them both, heat and destruction in their aura but only one of them felt like a deep abyss.

Sunwoo fell at one point, obviously injured and you wondered whether he had been chasing the monster since that thing had tried to make it look like he forced his way out of prison, leaving but behind.

"Sunwoo, down! Quickly!" you yelled at him, gathering enough water energy in the air to form a droplet of water before slicing it through with your sword sending a blow of multiplied energy towards the doppelganger. When your mother had told you that she had also taught your father to do this and it had helped him beat the now king, you didn't think that you would use the ability of Tansu for anything more than showing off. But your mother taught you well and the monster definitely seemed surprised.

When it sent a ball of fire towards you in exchange, you raised your arms protectively in front of you to lift a layer of blue glow. The fire didn't reach it though because Sunwoo stepped in its way, angry fire hitting his shoulder, sending him to the ground.

You cried out his name, lowering the protective layer as you ran to him, to check on his wound but the burn under his now holey shirt faded into nothing within seconds. A relieved sigh left you as you helped him stand and pride swelled your chest as you saw all your friends – and even not friends like Jaehyun – attacking the creature of the night. When you and the real Sunwoo joined them, the monster probably realized that his chances were low because the next moment he disappeared. Not really, but he turned back into a small white mouse, disappearing quickly between the cracks of the buildings. The Queen's favorite garden looked like a mess though. Now, how would you have explained that to the King? Would he believe you if you told the truth about the doppelganger, even without captured evidence? Would…

"I thought we told you to leave it to us," your father's firm voice yanked you out of your worried thoughts and your eyes widened when you saw your parents carry an enchanted bird cage with a white mouse in it.

"Sorry," you mumbled more out of instinct than sincerity. You would have done it again, without a second thought. You were their daughter after all, but you were sorry that you got them worried.

"Are you alright?" Your mother asked, touching your face where you felt a bruise forming. You grimaced at the slight pain you were suddenly reminded of but nodded.

Probably due to the sound of the commotion people kept showing up, soldiers and mages alike, the fire was still going on at the festival's altar and you all were requested to help contain it. It wasn't easy but with enough mages and Sunwoo's ability to somewhat control the fire's way, you eventually managed to save the palace from burning down.

While you were helping with the injured, you could see your father pat Sunwoo on the shoulder, probably complimenting him but you could also see his gaze harden and his grip squeezing a bit tighter than comfortable but the boy didn't flinch. He bowed respectfully and waited until your father started talking with Songrim's leader before making his way towards you.

His smile was sheepish and you wondered whether he got the typical protective father talk. You wouldn't have been surprised. Changmin had gotten it as well when you first befriended him and you both laughed goodheartedly at it. You weren't laughing now.

"Thank you," Sunwoo stopped in front of you, looking earnest. You shook your head.

"Don't mention it. The others helped too," you vaguely waved your hand towards the guys from Jeongjinrak and Prince Youngjae.

"No, but really," Sunwoo insisted and oh, he was serious. The intensity in his eyes made you gulp. "When you mentioned the prophecy that one time I thought you believed that it's written in stone and that at the first potential sign of it turning true, you would be against me. So… thank you for believing in me."

His words hit a cord in your heart. It seemed that while you were afraid that he would betray your trust, he was afraid that you would stop trusting him.

"Sometimes prophecies shouldn't be interpreted word by word," you shrugged as if it was nothing even though you did feel a bit guilty for having second thoughts about him. You stopped feeling like the possibility that it would turn true was hovering over you like the sword of Damocles but that day you wavered and you didn't like it one bit. You wanted to be the maker of your own destiny.

"Good," Sunwoo nodded as he let out a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing. Then he pointed in the direction of the main palace. "Do you think there are any mooncakes left intact at any of the stalls?"

Your parents took care of the monster and indeed helped clear Sunwoo's name. Every case of destructive fire could have been traced back to his doppelganger who probably felt the boy's raw, special energy and wanted it for himself.

As it turned out one of your cousins was the one who accidentally opened Jinyowon's cave but was too afraid to tell anybody about it. He didn't see the mouse sneak out, otherwise he would have admitted his mistake sooner. Park Danggu apologized personally to Sunwoo that his son had caused such troubles for him and that he was wrongfully accused.

On the other hand, Jaehyun did not apologize but wasn't as insufferable as before. He definitely didn't try to pick on Sunwoo or you just for the sake of feeling superior or something. He and his friend let Sunwoo be, which made Jeongjinrak's training a lot less stressful and more useful. Duels were more for motivation and actual practice than power plays.

Another good thing that came out of the whole ordeal was that Sunwoo and you could finally practice his fire skills against your water ones in broad daylight because Master Seo believed it was the perfect opportunity to examine the broadness and variety of a different kind of mage's repertoire.

Ever since then you often had sparring battles with the boy after class, making bets with 'the loser pays for the honey biscuits' kind of punishments. Once Youngjae came by and joked why it wasn't 'the loser gives the other a kiss' and you chased him down until he took it back.

"Last one to give up gets to make a wish?" Sunwoo suggested this time and you liked the sound of it. You were already thinking of what you could have asked of him when he would finally give up.

“Bring it on,” you smiled at the redhead challengingly and unsheathed your sword, getting ready for yet another sparring that felt like dancing with danger.

Would you regret it? Would he betray you one day and use the skills you taught him against you? Would you? Would the two of you turn the prophecy into reality eventually?

Maybe but you wouldn't let maybes poison your present. For now, he was just a boy and you were just a girl and your skin burned when he came too close. Swords pulled out, breathing heavy, when he smiled, your chest tightened and it felt like your heart was on fire. It consumed you slowly and sweetly and you burned willingly.

("So what's your wish?" You asked, panting, as you laid down on the ground in the middle of the field, looking up at the sky. Next to you, Sunwoo did the same.

You, his heart thump, thump, thrumped and you could feel your own jump as he slowly laced your fingers together. His hand was rough but warm.

"This. Just this," he whispered and you squeezed his hand with a smile.

The stars never looked prettier.)

#the boyz x reader #sunwoo x reader #tbz x reader #the boyz scenarios #sunwoo imagines #stories

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