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ms-snape · 2 months ago

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Imagine.. reader is Sirius sister and she is in secret relationship with Severus (she is teacher in Hogwarts too). In Grimmauld place at order meeting Severus and Sirius are arguing again. She can’t take it anymore and starts screaming there on both of them and accidentally came out with her and Severus little secret. And everyone are like whaaat ? Dumbledore is like: I knew it all along.

Title: Secret Forbidden Love

Résumé : Severus Snape entretient une relation secrète avec la sœur de l'intimidateur de son école, que se passe-t-il lorsqu'il le découvre ?

Attention : angoisse, mais fin heureuse

nombre de mots : 2000+

liste maîtresse

---

The flickering candlelight danced on the stone walls of Severus Snape's private chambers, casting long shadows that intertwined like the tangled emotions within the room. YN Black, professor of herbology and Sirius Black's sister stood, by the small window, her silhouette framed against the night sky, her heart racing as she felt Severus’s presence behind her. The warmth of his breath brushed her neck, sending shivers down her spine.

“Are you sure this is wise?” he murmured, his voice low, laced with a hint of concern. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her skin.

“Wise? No,” she replied, turning to face him, her eyes bright with mischief. “But it feels right.” She stepped closer, the distance between them collapsing as she leaned into him. The world outside faded, leaving just the two of them, enveloped in the cocoon of secrecy that their love had woven amidst the chaos of the wizarding world.

Severus’s lips curled into a ghost of a smile, a rare sight that made YN’s heart swell. “You are a reckless woman,” he teased softly, but his voice betrayed the warmth he felt for her. She knew he would never admit it, but his heart was as entwined with hers as the roots of the mandrakes they tended to in Herbology class.

“Only for you,” she whispered, and then she closed the gap between them, tasting the bittersweet flavor of passion and danger on his lips. They melted into a kiss, a moment of stolen bliss that felt both electrifying and forbidden.

But as the summer sun began to rise, so did the reality that awaited them.

---

The stone walls of 12, Grimmauld Place echoed with the tension of the gathering Order members. Flickering candles cast dancing shadows across the room, illuminating the faces of those present, each marked by the weight of their shared burden. At the head of the table, Albus Dumbledore sat, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles, while Sirius Black paced restlessly nearby, hands shoved deep into his pockets.

“Snape hasn’t changed, Albus,” Sirius insisted, his voice rising, a stark contrast to the calm ambiance. “He’s still a Death Eater at heart. We can’t trust him!”

“Enough, Black,” Severus Snape retorted, his voice low and edged with disdain. He leaned back in his chair, dark robes pooling around him like shadows. “I have proven my loyalty time and again. Your inability to see beyond your own prejudice is your weakness.”

“Prejudice? You call it prejudice when I refuse to trust a man who would sell his own soul for a chance at power?” Sirius shot back, fists clenching at his sides. “You are a coward and always will be, Snivellus!”

The tension in the room thickened, and Yn, seated quietly at the far end, felt her heart race. As a professor of Herbology, she had spent years cultivating patience and understanding, but the childish bickering between her brother and Severus was grating on her last nerve.

“Enough!” Yn’s voice rang out, firm and clear. She rose from her seat, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders like a waterfall, catching the candlelight. “This is not the time or place for your petty squabbles. We have far more important matters to discuss.”

Sirius shot her a glare, eyes narrowing. “You’re on his side now? You don’t even know what he is capable of!”

“Actually, I do.” The words slipped out before she could stop them, and the room fell silent, a collective breath held in anticipation.

“What do you mean by that?” Sirius asked, voice low and dangerous.

With a sudden rush of courage—or perhaps foolishness—Yn took a step closer to Severus, her heart in her throat. “Because Severus and I are…dating.” The admission hung in the air like a spell that had gone wrong, the shock palpable.

Gasps echoed around the room. But Dumbledore merely raised an eyebrow, as if he had expected this revelation. Sirius’s face twisted in disbelief, anger radiating off him in waves.

“You’re joking,” he breathed, a harsh laugh escaping his lips. “You cannot be serious, Yn. You’re dating him? That—”

“Is none of your business!” she snapped, feeling the heat of her brother’s gaze like a physical blow. “I’m not a child, Sirius. I can make my own choices.”

“This monster has hurt many people before, and you think he’s changed, what makes you think he won't hurt you just as well?” Sirius’s voice trembled with a mixture of fury and heartbreak. “I won’t allow it!”

“Allow it?” Yn’s voice cracked, her emotions spilling over. “Who do you think you are to dictate my life? To tell me who I can and cannot love?”

“Love? You call this love?” Sirius spat, his face pale with anger. “You’re putting yourself in danger. He’s playing you, Yn!”

“Enough!” Severus interjected, his voice colder than the winter winds. “This is between Yn and me. You will not speak to her as if she was a child.”

“The problem is you’re not just some charming suitor—” Sirius shot back, but Yn stepped in, her heart racing.

“He's right, I’m not a child, Sirius!” she yelled, tears brimming in her eyes. “I know you just wanna protect me, espicially after what happened to Regulus, but I can take care of myself!”

The mention of her lost brother struck a chord, and the room fell silent again, the weight of grief settling heavily upon them. Sirius’s eyes softened momentarily, but his anger flared back to life.

“You’re making a mistake! I won’t stand by and watch you ruin your life!”

“Ruin my life?” Yn’s voice cracked, the tears finally spilling down her cheeks. “You've spent most of your life in Azkaban because you chose revenge, you don’t know anything about me or what I want!”

With that, she turned on her heel, storming out of the room. Her footsteps echoed in the hall, a stark reminder of the conflict left unresolved.

Sirius stared after her, guilt gnawing at him. The last time he had seen his sister cry was when Regulus died, and the memory twisted in his chest like a knife. But pride held him back; he didn’t want to admit he was wrong.

“Leave her be, Sirius,” Dumbledore said softly, his voice filled with understanding. “She needs time.”

“Time? She’s with him!” Sirius snapped, gesturing toward Severus. “What if he hurts her? I won’t let that happen!”

Severus, who had remained silent through most of the confrontation, felt a flicker of something akin to guilt. He hadn’t meant for this to happen. He hadn’t wanted to cause a rift between the siblings.

“I’ll speak to her,” he said, rising from his chair.

“Not without my permission,” Sirius warned, eyes fierce.

“Enough!” Dumbledore interjected, his voice commanding. “This is not a battlefield, gentlemen. We are fighting a war, and if you cannot set aside your differences for the sake of the mission, you will find yourselves at a greater loss.”

“And Sirius, you must know that we are often surprised by the paths others choose,” Dumbledore continue, his voice gentle but firm. “But it is not our place to judge the journey, only to trust that love—wherever it is found—brings with it the potential for great courage and even greater understanding.”

Sirius’s shoulders slumped, but the anger still simmered beneath the surface. He turned away, staring out the window at the darkening sky.

Yn leaned against her door, her heart racing, tears streaming down her face. How had it come to this? She had hoped that her relationship with Severus would be a source of strength, not a point of contention. She felt trapped between loyalty to her brother and her love for Severus, a tangled web of emotions that left her feeling breathless.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts, and she wiped her eyes hastily. “Go away,” she called, her voice thick with sadness.

“Yn?” Severus’s voice was low, almost tentative. “May I come in?”

She hesitated but finally opened the door. Severus stood there, his dark eyes searching hers, concern etched on his features.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, stepping inside. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“It’s not your fault,” she replied, shaking her head. “It’s just…Sirius doesn’t understand. He’s hurting and he's doesn't see it.”

“I know.” Severus’s voice was gentle, a contrast to the sharpness that had characterized their earlier confrontation. “But I can’t change who I am. I can’t change how I feels. All I can do is be here for you.”

The sincerity in his voice warmed her, and she took a shaky breath. “I don’t want to choose between you two,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “But I feel like I have to.”

“You don’t,” he said firmly, crossing the room to stand before her. “You can be loyal to your brother and still love me. He’ll come around eventually.”

“But what if he doesn’t?” she whispered, looking up at him, searching for reassurance. “What if I lose him forever? I've already spent twelve years without him, Severus”

Severus reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Then we will find a way to make it work. Together.”

His touch sent a shiver down her spine, and she leaned into him, the warmth of his body grounding her in the chaos of her thoughts.

Days passed, the tension palpable within Grimmauld Place. Sirius avoided her, and every time she caught a glimpse of him, guilt twisted in her stomach. She missed her brother, and the silence between them felt insurmountable.

One evening, as Yn prepared for bed, a soft knock broke through her thoughts. She opened the door to find Sirius standing there, his expression a mix of determination and regret.

“Can I come in?” he asked, voice softer than she’d ever heard.

“Of course,” she replied, stepping aside.

Sirius entered, shifting awkwardly in the small space, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. “I’ve been a right git,” he began, his voice low. “And I’m sorry. I just…” He hesitated, searching for the words. “I don’t want to see you get hurt. Not again.”

Tears pricked her eyes, and she nodded, unable to speak.

“I know I can’t dictate your life,” he continued, his voice gaining strength. “But I’m your brother, and I care. I just—” He paused, taking a deep breath. “If you’re going to be with him, I need to know that he’s not going to hurt you.”

Yn crossed her arms, heart racing. “He won’t, Sirius. He’s different now. He’s changed.You just weren't here to see it”

Sirius studied her for a moment, the anger in his eyes fading, replaced by something softer. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy” she said firmly. “With him. I love him, Sirius.”

The confession hung in the air, and Sirius let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I hate that I can’t just accept this,” he muttered, pacing the room. “I just—he’s Snape. He’s always been Snape.”

“Maybe it’s time to let that go,” she said, her voice steady. “You have to let me make my own choices.”

Sirius stopped, turning to face her, vulnerability etched in every line of his face. “I just wish you’d chosen someone else, someone-”

“Someone safer?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “You want me to date someone you approve of? That’s not how love works, Sirius. It’s not just about safety; it’s also about connection and heart.”

He opened his mouth to argue but then closed it, the fight leaving him. “I don’t want to lose you,not after… Regulus” he admitted, his voice breaking.

“You won’t,” she promised, stepping closer, reaching for his hands. “I’ll always be your sister, no matter what.”

A silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken emotions. Then, Sirius pulled her into a tight embrace, and she melted against him, feeling the warmth of family wrap around her.

“I just want you to be safe,” he murmured into her hair, and she felt the tremor in his voice.

“I will be,” she whispered back, her heart swelling with love for her brother. “I promise.”

The next day, as the sun broke through the clouds, casting light upon the darkened house, Yn found Severus in the garden, tending to the herbs she had planted. The vibrant greens and delicate blooms stood in stark contrast to the somber atmosphere of Grimmauld Place.

“Hey,” she said softly, approaching him.

Severus looked up, his expression softening at the sight of her. “How did your conversation with your brother go?”

“He’s…coming around,” she replied, a small smile breaking through her earlier worries. “He just needs time.”

“Time,” Severus echoed, a hint of skepticism in his tone. “That can be a double-edged sword.”

“Maybe,” she admitted, reaching out to touch a petal of a blooming herb. “But I think he’ll come to see that we’re not just some reckless fling. This is real between us.”

Severus stepped closer, his eyes locking onto hers. “And what if he doesn’t? What if he never accepts this?”

“Then we’ll figure it out together,” she said firmly, determination swirling within her. “I won’t let fear dictate my happiness.”

For a moment, Severus studied her, and then his lips curled into a rare smile. “You are far more stubborn than I anticipated.”

“Stubbornness is a family trait,” she teased, her heart swelling with affection. “But that doesn't stop me from loving you”

As they stood together, the sun casting a warm glow around them, Yn felt a sense of peace settle within her. The path ahead was uncertain, but her heart was anchored in the knowledge that love, no matter how complicated, was worth fighting for.

And as the winds of change swept through the garden, Yn knew she would stand strong—both for herself and for the love she had chosen, no matter who stood against her.

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thesiltverses · 1 month ago

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you've probably answered this before, but could you share what some of your favorite fiction podcasts are? (either newer podcasts or ones that have been around for a while! - i'm new-ish to fiction podcasts)

Obvious answers, but if you're new-ish to the field there are a lot of extremely talented and very kind horror and horror-adjacent creators who've appeared on the show and whose works are often seen as related to ours (Old Gods our absolute beloveds, Magnus Archives, Malevolent & Deviser, We Are Not Meant To Know, Shadows at the Door, Parkdale Haunt, Hallo from the Hallowoods, Sinkhole, many many more...)

As a specific recommendation for someone we don't know, I've been enjoying Modes of Thought in Anterran Literature a lot recently.

There's something about the 'episodical mystery with constant teasing and foreshadowing and cliffhangers' format that just makes the right CLONK sound in a lot of people's brains when they're listening to podcasts, which I'm not immune to, and I think the MoT team has done an excellent job of coming up with a strong and unique central device for the medium, a well-performed main character who can deliver exposition in an impressively naturalistic way, and not screwing the pooch when it comes to actual reveals. They also had an entire episode based around an Omelas homage, which was fun.

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thedailydescent · 3 months ago

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In the besieged lands of Gaza, the search for drinking water unfolds as a tragic odyssey of endurance and deprivation. Every step taken to procure this fundamental necessity is laden with hardship and uncertainty. Families embark on wearying journeys, traversing long distances in pursuit of a simple sip of water. Yet, the wells of health and purity run dry, as contamination and scarcity cast a shadow over their quest. The echoes of war reverberate through their struggle, rendering the act of securing clean and uncontaminated water a poignant reminder of the entrenched suffering that defines life in Gaza.

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This fundraiser is listed at #247 on the Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser List.

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Amna needs €40,000 to cross the border. We are currently at €13,542. Please reblog this or her pinned post, and donate if you can. Let's keep spreading the word to avoid stagnation.

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tainsan · 1 year ago

Text

misfits VI

⇥ pairing: ot8 ateez x fem! reader

⇥ warnings: nightmares, mentions of suicide, death, anxiety attacks, and violent language.

⇥ word count: 7.4k

⇥ a/n: I got back from vacation so I am very excited to release this chapter! thank you to all of you who have waited patiently for this one <3 I must say that in this chapter there are some very triggering moments, so please read at your own risk. your mental health is more important, please stay safe.

⇢ masterlist ⇠

previous chapter ⇠ ⇢ next chapter...

for my love @l0vetiny

--- THIS IS AN 18+ FANFICTION MINORS DO NOT INTERACT---

Wandering through the dimly lit and eerily quiet hallway, a shiver runs down your spine, goosebumps prickling on your skin. The air feels heavy with memories, and the flickering lights cast eerie shadows on the walls, heightening the sense of unease that settles deep within you.

Continuing forward, the surroundings seem to shift and morph before your eyes. The hallway transforms, becoming all too familiar. The walls close in, and the once-empty space becomes filled with echoes of laughter, tears, and whispers from the past. It's as if the memories have taken on a tangible form, enveloping you in their grip.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you struggle to make sense of the chaotic rush of emotions flooding your mind. The fragments of memories flash before your eyes, disjointed and broken, yet each one carries a weight that tugs at your soul. Images and sensations from the past come rushing back, haunting you with their vividness and intensity. You need to get out of here, now.

The hallway itself becomes a portal to the past, transporting you back to the house that holds both cherished moments and haunting secrets. The familiar decor, the creaking floorboards, the scent of recognizable perfume lingering in the air; all of it contributes to the overwhelming flood of emotions that threaten to destroy you.

Fear grips you, urging you to flee, to escape the clutches of this haunting place. Every fibre of your being screams at you to turn back, to run as fast as you can, and leave this darkness behind. But despite your desperate attempts to resist, your body seems to move of its own accord, almost as if it's being drawn deeper into the depths of the memories that refuse to be forgotten. The journey through this haunting corridor forces you to confront the ghosts of your past, to face the demons that have haunted you for years.

‘Stop, what are you doing’ Your protests fade away as you persist to walk more into the house, you recognise your steps and when you reach a certain door, your heart stops, your entire body going ice cold as you realise, you’re not here, you’re just reliving a memory. A memory you’ve been desperately running from for years.

Every nerve in your being ignites with fear, your body on fire as you desperately try to turn away. The overwhelming surge of emotions becomes unbearable, your eyes stinging and your heart racing. Trembling and filled with panic, you long to escape the haunting corridor that threatens to eat you alive. The weight of the moment hangs heavy, as you gather your strength and resolve to confront the darkness.

Watching as your hand reaches for the handle to the wooden door, you feel your entire body shaking as you still shriek in your mind to take you out of this nightmare. You pray, to anyone and anything that you will be torn away from this horrific place.

As the door creaks open, a suffocating wave of devastation washes over you, threatening to shatter the fragile pieces of your already broken soul. The sight that greets your eyes is agonizing. The lifeless body, once vibrant and full of life, now splayed across the cold, unforgiving floor. The weight of grief settles heavily upon your chest, constricting your breath and causing your heart to ache with searing pain. The scene is scattered by empty medicine capsules spread across the dark wood surface, silent witnesses to the desperation that consumed your mother's final moments. Every inch of your being yearns to rush towards her, to reach out and somehow reverse the irreversible, but an invisible force keeps you rooted in place, a helpless spectator to this heart-wrenching tragedy.

Time seems to warp and bend as you remain frozen, trapped in the nightmare that plays out before your eyes. The desire to touch her, to hold her once more, is an unbearable ache coursing through your veins. But before your trembling fingers can graze her lifeless form, the cruel grip of reality tears you away from the harrowing scene, your anguished scream echoing through the air, a desperate plea to escape the horrors that haunt your waking moments.

Your body jolts upright, propelled by an overwhelming surge of adrenaline. Gasping for air, each breath feels jagged and strained, a desperate attempt to fill your lungs with oxygen. The taste of salt lingers on your lips as hot tears stream down your cheeks, tracing a path of agony. Your entire being quivers with a raw intensity, as if electricity courses through your veins, setting your nerves ablaze. The need for escape overwhelms you, urging you to flee the confines of your bedroom. Hastily, you propel yourself forward, your steps hurried and unsteady, driven by a desperate desire for fresh air. The world blurs around you as your feet propel you towards the door, craving the relief that lies beyond it.

Disregarding your appearance, clothed in nothing but your sleeping shorts and an oversized t-shirt, you stumble through the house in a frantic haze. The urgency to escape grips you aggressively, destroying any concern for disturbing your roommates in your wake. Each footstep is irregular, pushed by an overwhelming need to escape from the suffocating hold of your mind.

The memory hooks into your brain, a relentless torment that attempts to consume you once more. Despite your relentless efforts to suppress it, the nightmare persists, resurfacing with a haunting insistence. Weeks, months, and years of painstakingly building a fortress of forgetfulness crumble before your eyes. The memory's grip tightens, triggering a heavy downpour of emotions, drowning your fragile stability.

Your legs tremble beneath you, weakened by the weight of the anguish you bear. Progress towards the door is a gruelling endeavour, each step a battle against the trembling weakness that permeates your being. But before you can reach the refuge of the exit, your body resists, collapsing onto the floor of the hallway. Your tears constantly flow, soaking your trembling hands as your shattered being struggles to comprehend the crushing wave of emotions that consume you. Time becomes distorted, seconds stretching into agonizing hours as you surrender to the merciless grip of your despair.

In a state of panic, your senses spin and blur, disorienting your vision as you struggle to fixate on the door just a few meters away. Yet, the world seems to be against you, distorting and contorting, morphing the once familiar threshold into an obscure target that mocks your desperate reach. The room, once spacious, now closes in around you, suffocating you in its overwhelming grip.

Desperation grips your throat, and you gather every ounce of strength to scream for help, to summon anyone who might ease your torment. But the sound that emerges is weak, a mere particle of a whisper lost in the turbulent commotion of your mind.

As the world blurs and fades, your senses dulled by the overwhelming surge of anxiety, you remain oblivious to the sudden presence at your side. It is only when strong arms envelop your trembling frame, engulfing you in a secure embrace, that you become aware of another person by your side.

The comforting presence guides you gently, repositioning your body between their legs, offering a supportive cradle. Your cheek finds solace against their chest, feeling the steady rhythm of their heartbeat against your skin. They begin to rub your back in soothing motions, tracing slow circles that provide a sense of grounding and reassurance. The legs of the protective figure form a defensive barrier around you, providing a sense of safety amid the mayhem. It is here when you can smell a vaguely familiar scent, and you cannot quite discern where you have smelt it before. It is when the figure's voice reaches your ears, and at that moment, the familiarity of the scent that fills the air clicks into place. It is the same scent that lingers on your sheets, the scent that belongs to their owner. The realization floods your senses, connecting the dots between the fragrance and the person residing near you.

“___? It’s Mingi,” the man speaks, with genuine concern etched across his face. Mingi, who is holding you tight desperately tries to redirect your focus, his intent gaze fixated on your trembling form. Mingi tries to grasp your attention, hoping to draw you away from the whirlwind of thoughts that torment your mind. In a voice laced with both urgency and tenderness, he calls out to you once more, his words filled with a mix of anxiety and aching compassion. The sound of his voice cuts through the haze that clouds your senses, breaking through the chaos and reaching for the fragile connection within you. Yet, your breaths remain erratic and unsteady, leaving their heartfelt call unanswered.

“___, listen to me, you’re okay. You are safe, come back to me. You’re safe.”

He notices your shaking slows down and he realises he’s found a small part of you holding on. Gently placing a hand on your cheek that isn’t facing him, he pulls you further into his chest, resting your ear over his heart.

“Listen to my heart, just focus on the sound, okay? You’re doing so well.” The beat of his steady heart reaches your ears and your entire being grasps the sound, the calming rhythm helping still the rising storm swirling inside of you.

Mingi's arms envelop your trembling frame, providing a secure embrace that anchors you during the cyclone of emotions. He holds you tenderly, swaying gently back and forth as if trying to lull away the distress that weighs heavily on you. Amidst the madness of your inner instability, you suddenly become aware of a soft melody coming from Mingi's lips. The song is unfamiliar, yet its delicate notes and the resonance of his baritone voice manage to soothe your soul. The vibrations of his singing gently slice through the tight knots of anxiety constricting your throat, gradually easing their grip on you. Time seems to blur as the minutes tick by, the sound of his voice providing a lifeline of stability. As the minutes stretch into what feels like hours, you gradually regain control of your breath, your inhales and exhales finding a steadier rhythm.

Though your tears still prick at your eyes, slipping down your cheeks occasionally, the storm within you begins to subside, leaving behind a lingering sense of vulnerability. Mingi remains devoted to your side, his comforting presence offering a glimmer of hope in the aftermath of the emotional tempest.

As the weight of your sorrow begins to ease, you can physically feel Mingi's body relaxing against yours, his tense muscles gradually unwinding like a tightly coiled spring. It's as if his form moulds effortlessly to fit against your side, providing a comforting embrace that shields you from your feelings raging within.

The warmth of Mingi's breath, steady and soothing, gently caresses the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in its wake. Each deliberate inhale and exhale serves as a grounding rhythm, anchoring him in the present moment.

As you begin to stir, indicating your readiness to move, a subtle shift in Mingi's demeanour becomes evident. His heightened awareness brings him to become conscious of the intimate position the two of you find yourselves in. With utmost caution and respect, he lifts his head ever so slowly, ensuring no sudden movements that could potentially trigger any lingering distress within you. While he subtly withdraws from the immediate proximity, his arm remains lightly draped around your waist, offering a gentle source of reassurance and support.

Turning your head at a slow pace, your gaze aligns with Mingi's, and in that fleeting moment, a pang of guilt tugs at your heart. The weight of your emotions mingles with the realization that he has been a steadfast presence throughout, a pillar of strength and compassion, offering unwavering support and comfort in your most vulnerable moments. The gratitude you feel is profound, yet so too is the underlying concern that you may be burdening him with your troubles.

“I’m so sorry Mingi, did I wake you up?” You look away from him, your body starting to shake with faint embarrassment. Noticing how fragile your emotions are right now, he is quick to comfort you and put your mind at ease.

“You didn’t don’t worry; I was in the living room when I thought I heard a scream,” Mingi responds, his hand unconsciously moving up and down your back again.

“What are you doing up so late?” You ask, confused as to why any of the boys would be awake this late. It must be past three or four in the morning.

“I got a burst of creativity, it’s hard to sleep if I don’t get it all out.” Mingi looks down, looking somewhat flustered. Looking up, he sees the confusion covering your features. “I was writing some kind of song thing.”

Your eyes widen as you realise what he meant, and you become ever so curious about his creativity.

“I didn’t know you wrote songs,” your voice is soft yet the glimpse of admiration in your tone is picked up by Mingi and he can’t help but smile and feel the heat rise to his cheeks.

“It’s kind of what I’m studying, writing songs is my thing,” Mingi grins as he teases you slightly for not knowing his major.

“Really? Maybe I should actually get to know you guys better,” You mumble to yourself wiping away your stray tears, once again not knowing something that is common knowledge to everyone.

“What has you so shaken up?” Mingi’s voice is so soft you wouldn’t have heard him if he wasn’t right next to you.

Mingi observes your reluctance to discuss the terrifying nightmare that just unfolded, and he instinctively knows that pushing you to open up would do more harm than good. Understanding the rawness of the images still haunting your mind, he respects your need for time and space. As your body continues to tremble with residual fear, Mingi quietly rises to his feet, bringing you up with him, his arm securely wrapped around your waist. He can feel your unsteady steps, and a protective instinct kicks in. Pausing for a moment, he contemplates the best course of action, realizing that ensuring your safety and comfort is his top priority.

“I am going to lift you to your room, is that okay?” Mingi questions, his eyes not leaving yours.

As the realization dawns upon you that Mingi's intention is solely to offer his support and assistance, your initial hesitation begins to dissipate. Blushing with a mix of gratitude and self-consciousness, you understand that your vulnerability at this moment demands you to accept his help. Although the idea of relying on someone else makes you slightly uncomfortable, you recognize that your current state leaves you incapable of aiding yourself.

Suppressing your embarrassment, you offer Mingi a shy nod, silently conveying your permission for him to assist you further. Mingi bends down to snake one of his arms under your legs and one around your back. Lifting your body into bridal style, Mingi holds you close to his chest, almost cradling your limp body. As Mingi supports you in his arms, a surge of emotions sweeps through him, overwhelming his senses. The weight of your body against his chest creates an intimate connection that he has longed for but never imagined would happen under these circumstances. He feels a sense of bliss as if time has momentarily paused to grant him this precious moment. The touch of your skin against his, the rise and fall of your breath against his chest, all serve as a bittersweet reminder of the vulnerability and trust you have placed in him.

His grip tightens ever so slightly, instinctively wanting to shield you from any harm or discomfort that may still linger within your fragile state. Mingi's heart swells with a mix of tenderness and protectiveness, a deep sense of responsibility to provide comfort and reassurance.

Resting your head against Mingi’s broad shoulder, you close your eyes, recognising the route of the man heading towards your room. Luckily, during your expedition to leave the house, you left the door of your bedroom open slightly, allowing Mingi to easily push it open with his back and walk towards your dishevelled bed. It is here where Mingi realises you must have had a nightmare; a soft concern lingers in his eyes. He knows that words alone may not be enough to ease the lingering distress from your nightmare. Although he knows not to pry, he wishes you would tell him the details of your bad dream, so he can offer support in the knowledge that you are safe in his presence and that of his brothers.

With a soft smile, Mingi pauses in his steps, his hand resting on the doorknob. He turns around, his eyes meeting yours, and he immediately understands your silent plea.

“Don’t worry, love, I’ll be right back. Give me a second.” Mingi reassures you before leaving out the door at a fast pace. If you weren’t so shaken up and exhausted the nickname would have processed in your mind completely differently to how it does at this moment.

It takes about twenty seconds for Mingi to return to your bedroom, this time in his hand he has his phone and a pair of wired headphones. You aren’t able to do anything but lay tucked in your sheets, you result to just watching him as he comes closer to the edge of your bed.

Without hesitation, he moves back towards your bed, taking a seat on the floor, in front of you. He reaches out and gently brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his touch tender and comforting. Mingi's presence alone brings a sense of security, and you feel a wave of relief wash over you. You're grateful for his understanding and willingness to provide the comfort you so desperately need at this moment.

Mingi looks up at you and smiles warmly, causing the sharp edge of your nerves to soften. With his face only a few inches away from yours, your heartbeat increases but this time it’s not due to a damaging emotion. Resting his hand on your head, he tenderly strokes your unkempt hair from your face before retracting and placing it back on his lap, much to your dismay.

“Would you like to hear one of my projects?” Mingi’s voice is barely above a whisper.

Exhausted and unable to muster coherent words, you offer a nod, signalling your readiness to delve into the unknown world of Mingi's music. A smile dances across his face as he places one headphone in your ear and the other in his, creating a shared soundscape that bridges the gap between you. With anticipation, you watch as Mingi skilfully navigates his playlist, his fingers gliding over the screen in search of the perfect track.

Untitled songs and cryptic titles catch your eye, piquing your curiosity about the untold stories behind them. As he presses play, a gentle beat emanates from the earphone, gradually filling the space around you. The strumming of a guitar resonates through the air, accompanied by an evolving symphony of instruments, and sounds that seamlessly intertwine. Mingi's deep voice emerges, rapping softly with a tone and tempo that seems tailor-made for your ears. It's a mesmerizing blend that tickles a part of your brain. The lyrics, though tinged with sorrow, embrace your spirit, offering a comforting hold that lets you know you are heard and seen.

As the music envelopes you, the weight of exhaustion appears, causing your eyelids to grow heavy. Your body surrenders to the soothing soundscape, and relaxation invades every inch of your being. Drifting into a peaceful slumber, you feel a sense of serenity wash over you. Just as you slip into the realm of dreams, a familiar resonance catches your ear, triggering goosebumps that ripple across your skin.

A particular lyric rises from the music, echoing deeply within you. Its significance is palpable, evoking emotions that are difficult to put into words. In this ethereal moment, the power of music intertwines with your being, leaving an indelible mark on your soul.

‘Passion, young, fever.’

There’s no way you heard that right. Right?

---

Excitement bubbles within you as you make your way towards the kitchen, fully expecting to find Hongjoong waiting for you there. Several days ago, he had kindly offered to accompany you to the bustling department store in the city, assisting you in finding new items to decorate your room with. It is a leisurely Saturday, devoid of any pressing lessons or assignments, you relish in the prospect of a full day dedicated to exploring and shopping. Your intentions extend beyond room decor, as you've also set your sights on replenishing your wardrobe. The few outfits you currently possess, remnants of what survived the fire, have become repetitive and mundane. You feel it's time for a refreshing upgrade. Originally, you had planned to limit your purchases to decorative items and undergarments, the latter of which you're determined to buy discreetly, without Hongjoong's presence. If necessary, you'll insist that he waits outside the store, ensuring your privacy.

The unexpected windfall of funds, received as compensation from your previous landlords for the damages incurred during the fire, has granted you a sense of financial freedom. The amount exceeded your initial expectations, as you had prepared yourself for the daunting task of covering expenses such as finding a new place to live, purchasing furniture, and replacing schoolbooks. Fortunately, the boys had already taken care of these necessities, ensuring a smooth transition when you moved in with them.

As you enter the kitchen, you find Hongjoong seated at the table, engaged in conversation with Jongho and Mingi, the latter with his back turned towards you. Instantly, memories from the previous week flood your mind, causing a sudden wave of flustered emotions. You feel unsure about how to approach and express gratitude to Mingi for his assistance during your anxiety attack. Ignoring the situation is not an option, as it would be unfair to dismiss his support. However, you hesitate, dreading the possibility of him inquiring about the cause of your distress, as it would require delving into your deep history of trauma.

Upon waking up that morning, you noticed Mingi's absence, briefly wondering if the entire incident had been a vivid dream. The sight of a slightly dishevelled pillow on the floor, evidence of someone's presence, reassures you that it did happen. You hope Mingi didn't spend too much time awake, as you also wished for him to get some rest. Another lingering thought occupying your mind is the song Mingi played for you a few days ago. Although it sounded unfamiliar, there was an uncanny familiarity in the lyrics that troubled you. You briefly entertained a theory of where you might have heard it before, but the thought swiftly slipped away, dismissed as a mere coincidence that didn't quite add up, it could not be them.

Since then, you've intentionally started leaving the house earlier, trying to avoid Mingi's presence, only interacting with him during dinner time. He is well aware of your embarrassment, yet it doesn't diminish his disappointment at the fact that you've been actively avoiding him.

As you draw nearer to the kitchen, you realize that the conversation among the three men is unusually deep, and intense. Hongjoong's furrowed brow and hushed tone suggest a level of seriousness they wish to keep private. Not wanting to interrupt their discussion, you take a step back, planning to return in a few minutes. Despite their efforts to keep their voices low, you manage to catch snippets of their conversation, and the few words you hear leave you slightly alarmed.

“I don’t think she needs to know so soon,” Jongho says.

You halt in your tracks, confused. Are they talking about you?

“I think she does, I can’t hide it from her much longer.” Mingi’s deep voice is recognisable.

“When should we ask her…”

“It just depends on the timing okay; we will let her know the proposition when necessary.”

Reluctant to continue eavesdropping, you scold yourself for unintentionally intruding on their private conversation. A wave of guilt washes over you, as you recognize that listening in on their discussion is unfair to their trust. However, curiosity chews at you, urging you to find out what they could be talking about. If the conversation revolves around you, what proposition or topic could they be considering? Should you step out from behind the corner and confront them? You know it would be the right thing to do, respecting their privacy, but an inexplicable force seems to hold you back, trapping you in your position. The desire to satisfy your curiosity becomes overwhelming, rendering you unable to move or tear yourself away from their secretive conversation.

“Why are you standing here?” A voice sounds from behind you, startling you immensely. Letting out a sound of surprise, you quickly cover your mouth in hopes that the three men at the kitchen island didn’t hear you.

As you turn around, your eyes lock on Seonghwa, leaning casually against the doorframe of his bedroom. A mischievous grin adorns his face, and you can't help but be captivated by his presence. Dressed in simple, yet stylish, black jeans and an oversized grey sweater, he exudes an effortless charm that makes it difficult to divert your gaze. Your eyes wander up and down his figure, unable to resist the appeal he radiates. A surge of pride fills Seonghwa's chest as he observes your admiration. He takes confident strides towards you, closing the distance until he stands a mere foot away. Bending down to meet your eye level, his face hovers just inches from yours. Your mind races, urging your body to create some distance, but you find yourself rooted in place, unable to budge as his magnetic presence envelops you.

“Like what you see?” He questions, your heart almost jumping out of your chest.

You are surprised at his flirtatious behaviour, not quite used to it coming from Seonghwa. Only having seen him as a gentle sweetheart, seeing him act so flirty makes your heart pound dreadfully fast.

Finally, you can convince your body to move away from Seonghwa’s hard stare and into the kitchen where you almost forget the three other men. You expected to see Jongho after seeing him every morning on the island, munching on the same food as usual.

“Hey, ___, You’re up early. Are you okay?” Jongho questions, wondering why you seem so shaken up and flustered. Hoping it wasn’t due to you potentially listening into the conversation between him and his friends. When he sees Seonghwa trailing behind your tense body, a smug grin covering his face, he thinks he understands why it is you’re so frazzled.

You manage to nod at him slightly, throwing a nervous smile in his direction before heading to the fridge to grab something small to eat before your day starts.

Behind you, Jongho sends a confused look in Seonghwa’s direction, causing the older man to just shrug amusedly as he makes his way to the coffee machine at the counter.

Balancing your bowl of leftover fruit salad in one hand, you make your way towards the spacious kitchen island. The morning light spills in through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room. As you approach, you grab a fork from a nearby drawer, your familiarity with the kitchen growing with each passing day. Though you've become well-acquainted with the location of most utensils, there are still a few items that escape your memory, like the damn blender. You can't help but recall the comical scene from yesterday when you frantically searched through every cupboard in a desperate quest to find the blender. Jongho, finding amusement in your difficulty, watched with an entertained grin as you scoured the kitchen. Finally locating the appliance, you playfully shot him a glare, feigning annoyance at his refusal to help in your blender-seeking escapade.

Settling into the seat next to Mingi, you steal a glance at him, feeling a mixture of relief and guilt wash over you. His broad figure turns towards you, his lips curving into a genuine, warm smile. The sight tugs at your heartstrings. You can't help but feel apologetic for avoiding him in the past few days, but seeing his forgiving expression reassures you that he doesn't harbour any ill feelings towards you.

“How did you sleep?” Mingi asks, his voice soft and tender, his smile contagious.

“I slept pretty well,” you process the next words in your head, not sure how to say them, “Thank you Mingi.” You reply, your voice full of gratitude, the smile on Mingi’s face turns thankful as he understands the undertone of your words, knowing you weren’t just thanking him for asking how you slept, but for the help, he gave you not too long ago. Heart filling with happiness, he decides to just smile warmly at you, hoping his unsaid words speak from his expression.

Hongjoong's perceptive gaze shifts back and forth between the two of you, and he can sense the unspoken connection woven within the shared silence. A knowing smile graces his lips, recognizing the softness and affection in your eyes as they rest upon Mingi. At that moment, he envisions a future where you would gaze at him with the same tender expression, his heart warming at the mere possibility.

“What are your plans today?” Jongho’s voice breaks apart the silence, his question not specifically pointed towards anyone, yet wanting your answer the most.

“Hongjoong and I are going to the furniture store and then the shopping mall, right?” You look towards Hongjoong, silently asking him to confirm your statement.

Hongjoong nods gently at you, before taking a sip of the coffee in front of him. Smiling, you look back at Jongho and reciprocate the question, curious as to what the notorious members of Ateez get up to during the weekend.

“I’ve got some errands to run, then San and I are going to this cat café in the city,” Jongho replies, his answer shocking you. Definitely not expecting such activity from such tough presenting guys.

Seonghwa sees the shocked look on your face and lets out a small laugh before speaking, “They’ve been wanting a pet cat for ages, but Hongjoong’s mom just won’t allow it, so this is the closest they can get to having one.”

Amidst the shared laughter, you find yourself joining in as Jongho pulls off the most adorable pouty expression. The infectious joy fills the room, and even Hongjoong and Mingi can't help but chuckle at the sight. Jongho playfully directs a mocking glare towards Hongjoong, as if blaming him for the fact that he can't have a pet cat, adding a touch of playful banter to the light-hearted moment.

“Hey, don’t blame me, blame yourselves. My mom hasn’t been able to take you guys seriously after Wooyoung and San brought a raccoon home and said it was the new housemate.” Hongjoong states as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. Your mind races with a mix of shock and amusement as you try to wrap your head around the idea of them abducting a raccoon. It's a scenario that never even crossed your wildest imagination. It sparks a flow of thoughts, making you wonder about all the bizarre and hilarious situations that may have unfolded within the walls of this house. The thought of their antics and misadventures brings a smile to your face, imagining the unconventional and unpredictable moments that have likely taken place in this house.

“It was one time.” San appears from the entrance nearest to the staircase, a pout on his face.

“One time too many, I found the damn raccoon under my bed one time, I thought it was a fucking monster coming to get me,” Seonghwa adds to the conversation, causing laughter to erupt around the room.

“We are not getting a cat, San, I’m sorry,” Hongjoong states, sending an apologetic look in his direction. San crosses his arms, a pout still on his face, causing him to look awfully like a toddler being told they can’t have more candy.

“It’s okay, we have a cute kitty right here,” Jongho says smirking slightly, looking in your direction. The meaning behind his words causes a violent blush to creep up your neck, your entire body heating up.

Mingi's deep chuckle resonates in the air as he playfully pats your head, his gentle touch providing reassurance that the comment was simply a tease. However, a lingering feeling remains, suggesting that Mingi might be in on the playful banter as well. It's a strange but intriguing sensation to be flirted with by someone other than Wooyoung, and you can't help but feel a slight flutter in your heart. At the same time, the thought of all eight of them showering you with attention feels overwhelming. Your heart ponders how it would handle such affection from each of them, unsure if it could bear the weight of their collective charm.

“Okay guys, chill out,” Seonghwa speaks out laughing gently, noticing the flustered look on your features, realising the attention is making you feel slightly anxious. Nodding gently at Seonghwa as a means to thank him, he smiles lightly at you.

A symphony of hurried footsteps echoes through the house, originating from the upper floor and cascading down the staircase. As you turn your gaze towards the source of the commotion, you're met with a heartwarming sight. The three missing individuals, who had been absent from the kitchen until now, have finally made their appearance. It dawns on you that this is a rare occurrence, as it has been quite some time since everyone has been gathered in the kitchen at such an early hour.

“Joong, what did you want to talk about?” Yeosang asks as he walks into the room, not noticing you sitting at the island.

“Oh, it was nothing, forget it,” Hongjoong says, desperately attempting to keep the suspicion low, knowing Yeosang doesn’t see you sitting next to Mingi.

“It sounded pretty urgent,” Wooyoung states, following after Yeosang, yet he suddenly understands the situation when he sees you sitting watching the event unfold, with a clear confused look covering your features. The gravity of the moment becomes apparent as you realise the rarity of such a complete gathering. There must be something important unfolding, something that has brought them all together at this early hour. As Yeosang makes it to the counter, he realises you are sitting there, and his face contorts into an expression of realisation and humiliation.

“Hey, muffin.” Wooyoung manages to get out, before cursing at himself for somewhat revealing the meeting the eight were supposed to discreetly have before you awaken.

Yeosang and Yunho come into your line of sight, and you offer them a warm smile, taking a moment to observe Yunho's behaviour. Surprisingly, he returns your smile with one of his own, genuine, and soft. The exchange doesn't go unnoticed by the other members gathered around the island, and you can feel a slight commotion in your stomach as your body warms up. It's a pleasant surprise to witness Yunho's genuine smile, something you haven't seen before.

However, you soon realize that they want to discuss something in private, perhaps a topic that is better suited for their long-standing friendship. Although a bit disappointed, you understand the need for them to have their own space and conversation, possibly involving "boy stuff." Respecting their privacy, you decide to step back and give them the confidentiality they require.

“Uh…I better go brush my teeth,” you exclaim, standing up from your seat and straightening your pant legs with your hands, making up an excuse to leave.

Making your way to your bedroom, you stop when you hear Hongjoong speak to you. “Just find me when you’re ready, we can leave whenever.” Nodding your head, you smile at all of the men in the kitchen, before heading into your room to stall for as long as you need.

As the door to your room closes, an expectant silence settles among the eight of them. They exchange glances, giving each other a nod, and then the conversation begins to flow.

“You guys need to read the room better, holy shit,” Jongho says when he is sure you’re out of earshot. He doesn’t believe you would be one to eavesdrop knowing it’s an important meeting between him and his friends.

“Okay, how were we supposed to see Tiny when she was hidden behind Mingi’s big ass?” Wooyoung says rolling his eyes as he takes a seat next to where San is standing. San rests an arm around Wooyoung’s shoulders looking down at the shorter male.

“You could’ve at least waited until we were sure she wasn’t here,” San suggests softly, not wanting to annoy the man further. Wooyoung grumbles a ‘whatever’, before paying attention to what Seonghwa is saying.

“Finally decided to open up that ice-cold heart, Yuyu?” Seonghwa questions the black-haired male sitting next to him, a knowing grin plastered on his features.

“I’ll kill you, shut up.” Yunho deadpans, not even looking in his direction, wanting to ignore his friends’ questions, knowing they are curious as to why he is so tame towards you all of a sudden.

“I’m older than you, watch it,” Seonghwa states, pointing a finger in Yunho’s direction, in which Yunho makes a mocking face, sticking his tongue out at Seonghwa.

“We can talk about it another time, okay? I need you guys to focus for a second.” Hongjoong speaks up, causing the seven around him to immediately listen to his words with full concentration. “I have some bad news, but I need you guys to stay calm for me, can you do that?”

Confused looks are shared from around the room, wondering what is so serious that Hongjoong had to warn them to control their emotions. Their captain continues speaking, “I heard from Bumjoong that Ryu may be here, visiting.”

The room grows heavy with tension as the atmosphere becomes charged with anger. Harsh intakes of breath echo through the space, a collective reaction to the weight of the situation at hand.

All eyes are directed towards Yunho and Yeosang, knowing the emotional chaos they have experienced due to Ryu was severe, and understanding the deep wounds may still linger within them. The intensity of their past struggles hangs in the air, casting a shadow over the room and amplifying the gravity of the moment. The others hold their breath, silently pleading for restraint and understanding, hoping that the conversation can navigate the difficult territory without causing further pain. The shared glances exchanged among them serve as a silent reminder of the delicate balance they must maintain.

“I already knew, it’s okay,” Yunho admits, anger evident in his body yet not as bad as it would be if he had just found out. He just hopes that Yeosang will take the news well.

“How come I didn’t know about this?” Yeosang’s voice has traces of anger and sadness and Hongjoong feels bad for not telling his younger friend sooner.

“We just found out, we immediately wanted to make a meeting so you can all hear it at the same time.”

Yeosang's heart sinks as he realizes the reason he was kept in the dark about the situation, knowing he was never as close to Bumjoong as the three others. Though the knowledge stings, he finds peace in the understanding that they wanted to share the news with everyone together. The initial anger he felt towards his friends starts to fade, replaced by a subtle realization and a growing empathy. He comprehends the complexity of their decision, recognizing the intention behind it and the desire to ensure that no one was left out or burdened with the weight of the information alone.

“We don’t know if it is her, or what her intentions could be, but we don’t want to take any chances or risks.” Hongjoong pauses to take a breath, “We have to stay distant from ___, just until we know that Ryu is no longer here.”

“Distant? Why would we stay distant? We have to protect her from Ryu.” San exclaims his voice getting louder, worried at what might happen if Ryu finds out about you.

“If Ryu doesn’t know who ___ is, then there is no chance of her getting hurt,” Hongjoong states, his voice staying the same level, recognition goes around the room as they realise, he has a point.

“But what if she finds out? What happens to ___ if Ryu finds out about her?” Yeosang asks, his voice venomous, causing shivers to go down Mingi and Jongho’s spines, still not used to the harsh tone of their friend.

“Then we have to hope that she doesn’t destroy her like she did us.” Hongjoong exhales, knowing the gravity of the situation.

“Come on, Joong. The second Ryu finds out about ___, it would be over for her, the least we can do is plan for if it happens.” Mingi says, anxiety bubbling in his throat, concerned immensely for you.

“I haven’t thought of one yet, but I will, okay?” Hongjoong replies, trying his hardest to calm the men in front of him whilst also fighting his own worries deep in his mind.

“Have you even started thinking a plan through? What is she going to think when we all of a sudden start ignoring and distancing from her?” Jongho inquires, his voice almost reaching booming, his fears starting to affect him deeply.

“We don’t have to ignore her in the house. Just when outside and at school, avoid her at all costs.” Hongjoong answers, sorrowful about what has to be done. “We do that partially already. Just Mingi, you can’t walk with her to classes.”

Grumbles and complaints are through across the room in a rowdy, loud way, causing Hongjoong to again silence them.

“This is to protect her. This is not for any other reason, boys.”

“Then why are you going out with her today? You’re going against your own words, Captain.” Mingi exclaims, his anger raising slightly at the hypocrisy of his older friend.

“We made these plans before we knew Ryu was here. As much as I want to cancel and reschedule, it would make ___ question, and I want to keep her in the dark here.”

There are a few disbelieved groans and sighs thrown around as enraged stares are directed at Hongjoong.

Hongjoong’s voice booms through the kitchen, the words echoing off the wall, “Don’t you dare look at me like that. I am not using this as an excuse to ‘steal’ ___ from you. If anyone should be out with ___ when Ryu is here it should be me and you all know that damn well. Don’t turn this on me when you know it’s out of my fucking control.” Hongjoong’s voice is strong and sturdy as he speaks his part.

Murmurs of regret and remorse permeate the room, each man expressing their apologies in soft tones. Hongjoong, visibly weighed down by the news, sinks back into his chair, his frustration evident in the furrowed lines on his forehead. He wearily runs his hand through his dishevelled, dirty blonde hair, releasing a deep sigh of exasperation. The weight of the situation hangs heavily on his shoulders, causing his posture to slump. Sensing his distress, Seonghwa offers a comforting gesture, placing a reassuring hand on Hongjoong's shoulder.

“Yunho should go with you,” Yeosang says, his voice soft, quieter than it had been just a few moments ago, this statement causing confused stares to be pointed at him and the taller man.

“What, why?” Seonghwa questions, looking from Hongjoong to the platinum blonde.

“Hongjoong doesn’t know Ryu as well as Yunho and me. I have things I need to do; Yunho can go and make sure that you don’t run into her.” Yeosang explains, his voice back to a normal tone, hints of irritation still evident.

“How is he going to ensure that then?” Wooyoung's question echoes in the room, causing Yeosang to stay silent for a while.

“I will know. She hurt all of us, but I know her better than you all, there’s no chance she’s going to go to a furniture store here anyways, she always hated them.” Yunho answers for Yeosang, who gives his friend a thankful look. Yunho nods in the direction of his friend, before looking back to the six pairs of eyes scanning his every move.

“What? I’m not going to do anything to ___.” Yunho says, ignoring the way his friends send him doubtful looks, rolling his eyes, he admits, “She’s growing on me.”

---------

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pessimisticpigeonsworld · 11 months ago

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Rhaenyra and Motherhood

Motherhood is an integral part to Rhaenyra's character, both in the show and the book. So many of her actions are based on her children and her legacy is carried by her sons Aegon III and Viserys II. However, her antis are obsessed with removing motherhood from her character or claiming that she was simply a bad mother.

Rhaenyra's motivations throughout the Dance were driven by her love for her children. From the loss of Visenya fueling her desire to reclaim her throne to Joffrey's death causing her to return to Dragonstone. Even before the Dance, Rhaenyra's desire to protect her children was part of her motivation for marrying Daemon so quickly.

Despite these facts, Rhaenyra's antis always want to portray Rhaenyra as a selfish woman who doesn't care about her children and only wants power and to get laid. They blatantly ignore how Rhaenyra loves her children so completely.

Rhaenyra raised Jace to be someone even Mushroom agreed would be a great king. He was kind, intelligent, protective, a good military strategist even at fourteen, and a skilled fighter. Even though the show decided to give many of his attributes to Aemond, he's still a good man and much wiser than his older uncles. He was also respectful towards women and had a good relationship with Baela.

Lucerys was greatly loved by Rhaenyra, in the show she calls him her sweet boy. She raised Luke to be a kind and brave boy, he was respectful to Rhaena and had a sweet relationship with her. He was protective of his siblings and just wanted to make his mother proud.

Joffrey was a brave boy, perhaps too much for his own good. He wanted to defend what was left of his family, which led to his untimely death. But in life he was loved by his siblings and Rhaenyra and she was fiercely protective of him.

"Nor would she suffer to be parted from Prince Aegon, her last living son...day and night the boy remained by her side like a small pale shadow."

Even though the show hasn't yet given us any stills of Rhaenyra and Aegon the Younger, we know a lot about their relationship from the book. After the deaths of her other children, Rhaenyra held Aegon closer than ever. He grew to be a good king, despite his severe PTSD. He was firm with his advisors, stabilized the realm after the Dance, strove for peace, visited the sick, and tried to bring back dragons using magic. The only reason he isn't remembered fondly is because he wasn't happy or interested in kissing up to the lords.

Due to Viserys' age at the time of the Dance and his subsequent separation from his family, we don't know much about his relationship with Rhaenyra. But we do know that his disappearance was greatly grieved by her and that he was very close to his brother Aegon. Regardless, Viserys was a good king and such a skilled politician he was compared to Jaehaerys himself.

Visenya may have been stillborn, but she was greatly loved by Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra's only daughter, she was mourned greatly by her parents and it was her loss that helped spur Rhaenyra in her desire to reclaim her throne.

Motherhood is one of the key aspects of Rhaenyra's character. Her trauma revolving around the tragic death of her mother makes her love for her children and happiness as a mother even more compelling. She was at her happiest when she was able to live with her beloved husband and children unbothered by the Greens. She deserved to reign with her children around her. Their loss destroyed her emotionally and removed any hope Aegon and Aemond had for mercy from her or her faction.

Even though the misogyny of Westeros prevented her from being remembered as a true queen, her children are still fondly remembered. It's through them her legacy and final victory over the Greens live on, and the Green stans hate that so they try to remove her connection to her children. But their efforts are as useless as their favs, as Rhaenyra's legacy is alive and well in ASOIAF through Daenerys and their beloved usurper and his bitch mother are only remembered as war mongers and power hungry thieves.

#rhaenyra targaryen #team black #anti team green #house of the dragon #asoiaf #jacaerys velaryon #lucerys velaryon #joffrey velaryon #aegon iii targaryen #viserys ii targaryen #baby visenya #queen rhaenyra #daenerys targaryen #anti rhaenyra antis

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apomaro-mellow · 12 days ago

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King and Prince 36

Part 35

“This all started about three hundred years ago…”

“Wait!”, Steve sat up suddenly. “You’re telling me like this?”

“Like what?”, Eddie asked, confused.

“You’re a storyteller”, Steve said simply.

Eddie chuckled and shook his head. “When you’re right, you’re right.” He took a deep breath and then disappeared under the covers. He melted into nothingness and Steve lost track of him as he moved through the shadows.

“My life began before your kingdom, before many others”, Eddie’s voice echoed from somewhere in the room. “I was born in the darkest of places…”

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

Osanna Munson had noticed the group the moment they came into town. They were dark and mysterious and people whispered about them right away. Cultists, men and women who bowed to the darkness, not the light. Osanna wasn’t quite sure what to make of them. But the bright and charismatic young man who traveled with them couldn’t be a true believer, could he?

Their courtship began so naturally, that Osanna almost forgot about the nasty things people said about him and his group. But she’d still taken care to hide it from her brother Wayne. He worried too much.

But when her belly started to show, it was impossible to hide it any longer. Her parents weren’t completely thrilled that this had all occurred under their noses, but Wayne claimed to have known for a while.

“You’re not the quietest when it comes to sneaking around”, he had said. “Neither is your beau.” Wayne was steadfast and loyal, especially to his younger sister.

Compared to him, Alwin was a scoundrel, a cad, but even he had to adhere to the rules of society. And so they were married, a precious bundle on the way. All the while, Alwin told her about the lord and master he served, Vecna. If you believed Alwin, there was pain and suffering in the world and all Vecna wanted to do was end it. Osanna wasn’t sure if she had faith in their god. But like many, faith comes when suffering does.

She grew ill, a sickness no one had ever seen before. She feared not for herself but for her unborn child. Alwin beseeched his elders and they gave him hope through a prophecy. That this child could be the one to aid Lord Vecna in his coming, that this child may one day be his general. The leader had a dark substance. It may have been venom, or an elixir, or blood from a beast unknown. But Alwin brought it home as a tonic to cure his beloved. Osanna’s strength returned, but with it came a desire for the cold and a craving of raw flesh.

When I was born, she was relieved for me but scared of what it meant for the world.

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

“I bet she was pretty”, Steve said in the dark.

“What?”

“I bet she’s where you get your good looks from.”

“And how do you know I didn’t take after my father, hm?”

“You’ve already described him as a scoundrel. I don’t think you hold him in any high regard.”

“True. Now may I get back to my upbringing?”

“Continue”, Steve said.

That was when he heard the pitter-patter of little feet across the floor. A child. An energetic one. Then he could hear that child climbing up the walls.

“I was…unusual, to say the least…”

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

Osanna knew her baby was born different. While as a newborn, he appeared typical, as the months went on, he changed in appearance. Into something a mother never wanted to see her child as. She cursed both Alwin and the Cult of Vecna and ran away with Wayne, baby and all.

As he grew, the child learned to hide what made him different, at least outside of the home. And for a while things were peaceful. But Alwin never stopped looking for them and the years of bliss ended when they were found. Alwin implored Osanna to see his way, Vecna’s way. And when words didn’t change her mind, he used force.

Their child made their first kill when he was ten. It was just a deer, the same as the hunting trips the other boys went on. But his weapons were the claws and teeth he had hidden away for so long. Ripping into flesh felt exhilarating. And his mother even looked proud when he brought the carcass home. And if she was proud that meant she was happy, which meant father was happy, and that meant no fighting.

But with his first kill came the nightmares.

A place colder than winter, darker than the blackest night, only illuminated by firey lightning. Beasts with rows of teeth. And a man who beckoned to have his bidding be done. He told his parents and his father brought the boy to the elders, who were oh so pleased. This meant Vecna was finally working through the child, that his coming was imminent. And so the teachings officially began.

To make sure he was prepared for Vecna’s ascension unto this world, the boy had to be indoctrinated, trained. The whole world would be brought under their lord’s banner and he needed to be up to the task. He was a weapon. And a weapon is useless if it cannot kill.

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

Steve felt Eddie slip back under the covers. His shape was definite. He didn’t move to show himself though. Steve reached out to pat his head.

“I killed my first person when I was sixteen. He was a heretic, someone who had spoken out against Vecna and denounced him. I was to be his executor. He was decrying Vecna until his last breath. I did it but I-” Eddie made a choked sound. “Everyone praised me for it. But my mother didn’t say a word. I cried into her skirts like a child. I didn’t-I couldn’t be what they wanted me to be.”

Steve started to stroke his head through the covers. “What did you do?”

“I ran. But I came back after a couple of days. I was a freak of nature with nowhere to go. And the nightmares always found me. In them, I saw the world that Vecna wanted, razed and desolate. I didn’t want to help him create that world but…for all my strength, I was powerless against my father and the elders.”

Eddie melted into the darkness again and Steve lost track of him. Then one by one, candles began to light the room.

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

It started with one village. The cult came, preached the word of Vecna and offered others to join. If the people refused, they were shown Vecna’s might. I would only kill the leader, a final warning to them. If the people still refused, then the people of the cult killed them. I would watch my father revel in the violence. Sometimes it seemed to be when he was at his happiest.

The cult grew and one day, the blood was enough. The ground cracked open and filled the world with nightmares. Demobeasts of all kind, four legged, two legged, winged, big and small. All teeth and no eyes.

And then there was him.

Like a man turned inside out so that their blood and innards were on the outside. Every movement looked like agony and yet each step was purposeful. The demobeasts ripped apart everyone they saw, cult member or not. But he…Vecna, he did things much worse. I could see it when he approached his victims. He made them see the worst parts of themselves, forced them to give up on life, any and all hope, before disfiguring them.

And again, I felt powerless.

I had brought this into the world. I was the usher of destruction.

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

The candles all went out and silence filled the room. Steve looked around frantically.

“Eddie?”

“He killed my mother.” Eddie’s voice sounded broken. “And I could see what she saw before her light went out.”

“Eddie”, Steve stood up from the bed and started feeling through the dark.

Eddie’s voice broke more, like he was holding back tears. “She thought she had failed me. She had wanted to run from my father so many times. Even before they married, she had doubts.” She blamed herself for everything! She had so many regrets! She never wanted a monster for a son!” There was a growl behind his voice, almost a roar.

Steve reached out, his hands disappearing into a pitch black shadow. His heart stopped for a moment when he felt a muzzle, warm and snarling. He reached further and flinched a little when he felt the teeth of an open maw, but he didn’t pull back. Even when Eddie growled, Steve wouldn’t turn and run.

“She wanted a better life for you. Because she loved you. But you’re no monster.”

Eddie snarled again and this time Steve could see glowing red eyes in the dark. Eddie had murdered, both with his own hands and in association with others. Innocent lives, children even. Steve’s heart went out to them, even if it had been centuries. Eddie had probably gone that entire time with those lives on his conscience. No, not probably, he had been if he was telling it all to Steve now. But that wasn’t who Eddie was now.

And to prove it, Steve put his head in his mouth.

Eddie whined but Steve didn’t move.

“You’re not a monster. And I know because of how you care for me. You could have kept me in that dungeon cell forever. You could have thrown me to the streets when my parents disowned me. You could have let me go along with Jason. And right now, you could snap your jaws shut and end me forever, but you won’t.”

Eddie released another while and Steve chuckled as he pulled his head out. He kissed the snout and then felt Eddie change right under his touch. He sniffled and Steve found his human nose to kiss.

“My love”, Eddie’s voice warbled. “My stars, my guiding light, prince of my heart.”

Steve pulled gently, leading Eddie from the darkness into the moonlight. “Do you want to finish the story?”, he asked.

Eddie nodded.

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

Osanna’s death was the last straw. At that moment, I was completely unleashed. And all of that rage was pointed at Vecna. I couldn’t remember my name, or my form, just my wrath. I probably killed more than Vecna. The blood and viscera covered me so completely.

After that, I wandered, aimless, until Wayne found me. No matter how much I lashed out, he found me and dragged me back home. He took all the broken pieces and put them back together. Wayne was good at taking in strays. He gave me a home, and then later a purpose.

“Those animals of yours are still running amok. Someone’s gotta corral them.”

Now that Vecna was gone, the demobeasts had no master to follow. They were now my responsibility. I took control of them, made them all stay to one land. Some saw it as a declaration of war, others as a show of weakness. In any case, my fighting and Wayne taking in strays. We built walls to keep our new family safe and more people flocked to that safety. Wayne was able to see me coronated as king before he passed.

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

“And then years went on. And now, we’re here.”

“Now we’re here. But I think you’re skipping a few things”, Steve said.

“Hm?”, Eddie hummed as he wrapped his arms around Steve.

“You can tell me about your past paramours. I promise I won’t get jealous.”

Eddie shook his head. “There was no one.”

“No one?”

“You are my one and only flame, the one who makes my heart soar, prince of my heart.”

Steve kissed his lips softly and then rubbed their cheeks together. “King of my heart.”

Eddie’s arms tightened around Steve and Steve held him back. Eddie felt both grounded and lighter than air. It had been a very, very long time since he had told anyone the full story. Everything about where he had come from and what he’d done. He hadn’t thought about it for some time. Part of him could feel the cold seeping back in, the darkness that scared him as a child.

“It’s late. Let’s go to bed”, Steve said, washing those fears away.

They slipped into bed, with only the light of the moon, but with plenty of warmth between them to give only the sweetest of dreams.

Part 37 coming soon

Taglist CLOSED

@thesuninyaface @only-evanescent @snakeorsquid @ignoremyworld @theclichefortunecookie

@goodolefashionedloverboi @just-a-tiny-void @0body0disphoria0 @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @samsoble

@jamieweasley13 @y4r3luv @xtkxkrzrizir @un-knownperson @greekgeek24

@justdrugsformethanks @potato-of-the-lord @notaqueenakhaleesi @swimmingbirdrunningrock @queenie-ofthe-void

@nebulainajar @lil-gremlin-things @nicememerino @robininblue @hornedqueenofhell

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @moomkin77 @here4thetrama @bookworm0690 @autumncrocusandladybug

@lil-gremlin-things @littlebluejane @puppy-stevee

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie

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skellseerwriting · 7 days ago

Text

Swordfight

James Hook x GN!Swords-person!Reader

Requested

Word Count: 2.4k

Content & Warnings: Mentions of blades (swords), sword fighting, one mention of wanting stab Hook’s face, worry of injury, no injuries, lots of flirting (on Hook’s end), one innuendo, reader isn’t really a VK or an AK (just doesn’t care for rules)

Summary: It’s your first time meeting James Hook, and he challenges you to a duel with a certain reward in mind if he wins…

Sitting at the edge of the water fountain in the courtyard, you were sharpening your sword.

The thin, silver-colored blade shone brightly in the afternoon light.

It hadn’t been easy sneaking it around the eyes of teachers, but you’d managed to keep it out of view. Your sword was a part of you, and you never wanted to part from it.

Who cares about rules anyways? If you got in trouble, so be it. You’d probably just escape detention or whatever they were planning on punishing you with anyways. If they caught you.

A shadow cast over your lap.

Looking up, you saw the suave face of a young man with brown hair.

“You know, they don’t let you carry those ‘round here.” He mused in an accent you couldn’t quite place, hand casually on his hip. A deep red coat was draped over his shoulders -arms not in the sleeves- and concealing his other hand. You squinted your eyes.

“I know.” You said without care, looking back down to return to your task. “Rules are made to be broken anyways.”

Expecting him walk away, you were surprised to see the shadow stay in place. You looked up at him again, raising an eyebrow. He just loomed in closer to you.

“You know, I’m very good with a sword in my hand myself.” He said, inflating his chest (along with his ego).

“Oh, I’m sure you are.” You smirked, humoring him a little. He may have been pestering you, but you did have to admit; he had a handsome face.

His hand reached forward to touch your own; or maybe it was to grab your sword hilt. Either way, you recoiled at the sudden intrusion of space.

Getting up quick and moving to the side, you pointed your blade at him and gave him a look. You’d permit flirting, but you wouldn’t let a near-stranger get too close to you so casually.

“You really shouldn’t have that.” Was all he said in response; only further entertained by the threat. His body language was completely casual and fluid.

“Why do you care?” You asked, feeling your patience wear down a little at his antics and insistency of not buzzing off; despite his good looks.

“Oh,” He said with amusement. “Well I’d hate to see you get in trouble.”

You were pretty sure he was enticed by the idea, actually.

Still, you weren’t going to let him rile you up like this.

“Who are you anyways?”

There was venom in your tone, but it may as well have been honey to him. The mystery student took on a look of fake shock before waving his hand in a circular motion and bowing at the waist in a flourishing act.

“The name’s Captain James Hook; Feared pirate of the seas. Most call me ‘Hook’.” He looked up at you, still bent at the waist. “But you, Darling…” he winked. “can call me your date.”

You couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped you. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to dim his spirits.

“And why would I go on a date with you?” You asked with mirth. Hook’s eyes twinkled.

“Because.” He stood up straight. “It’ll be my reward for beating you in the challenge.”

“‘The challenge’?”

“A duel.” He enunciated, clarifying with pursed lips.

You sniggered.

He wanted to have a swordfight with you?

You flicked your blade down at your side with a swish. Then, you gave a brief, mock bow.

“Alright then, Captain. I’ll indulge you. However,” you gave him a glance full of warning. “It’s your funeral.”

Hook merely blew you a kiss as he walked off to grab a hidden sword he must’ve stashed away for this very instance. He was leisurely with his time as he made his way back to you; grip very loose on the handle.

“Good luck.” You said sarcastically, readying your stance. He did the same.

“Why would I need that when you’re motivation enough for me?”

His words caught you off guard, and in the next moment, the metal in his hand clashed against yours with heavy force; the sound stinging your ears.

Hurriedly getting focused back on the danger in front of you, you pushed his blade away, but Hook only returned for more.

Quickly getting into the zone, you studied his way of attacking and footwork. You’d gone up against many opponents over the years, and your analysis yielded one result; he was good.

Adjusting your weight to parry him, you allowed your eyebrows to scrunch in annoyance. Hook was vicious in his attacks, whilst still maintaining a certain elegance. His sword whipped across your vision like a needle and you began taking steps backward to get a better eye on it.

He turned the angle of your fight, making your back face the water fountain. The sounds of sharp metal stopped only for a moment as you were forced to hop backwards onto the fountain edge.

Hook’s smile continued at the sign of weakness. Gritting your teeth, you waited for him to hop up on the ledge as well so you could lunge toward him and make him fall.

Unfortunately, he seemed to have seen that coming, because he increased the speed of his attacks and thrusts the second he joined you on the small space of tile.

Once again, you were backing up. So, you made a feint at him, only to completely over throw your weight.

Your body careened towards the churning water.

A hand grabbed hold of your waist and spun you back to your feet. Hook’s torso was pressed up against yours and he gave you a charming smile.

“Falling for me alr-“

He didn’t get to finish his pun before you attempted to stab him from a close distance. Luckily for him, he had good reflexes.

Huffing in annoyance, you finished walking off the back of the fountain edge and dropping onto the ground.

As Hook stood above you, grinning, he spun his fine blade around a couple times and made a few fancy slashes. Then, he built up a huge jump and lunged at you.

You merely side stepped, and he was set stumbling forward.

Taking the opportunity, you sprinted to the nearby stone wall and its pillars. As you did so, you noticed many students facing you; it seemed you had gathered an audience.

You heard Hook following behind you and resisted the urge to look back.

Going around a thick pillar, you were hoping he would trail you as you swung around back to the courtyard. Instead, you ran right into him; he had went the other way.

Your palm was pressed up against his chest in fear of the sudden impact, and you wanted to stab that stupid look on his face as he teased you with a: “If you wanted to feel me up all you had to do was ask.”

Shoving him away, you turned around to go back to where you came from. You quickly found he did the same and moved in front of you again in anticipation of your moves; essentially blocking you off.

Huffing, you moved back to the center and waited for him to move to the outside of the courtyard.

Taking notice of the vines covering the stone bricks, you changed your mind and started to climb to try and escape.

You gripped your sword between your teeth to give freedom to both hands.

Hearing rustling sounds under you, you groaned.

“Can’t you just leave me alone?” You asked with your teeth clenched, exasperated. If you had known how this would go, you would have never agreed.

“Aww come on,” He drawled, not nearly as out of breath as you hoped he would be. “Give me a chance.”

About to bite back a remark, you became inquisitive at hearing a sharp sound dig into the wall below you.

Was he using his sword to climb?

Shaking your head, you hauled yourself to the top; getting on your feet as soon as possible.

The sun immediately hit your eyes. So, before turning around to anticipate your opponent, you briskly walked across the precarious wall into some shade that was provided by the taller academy building.

That same building also provided a nice dead end for you.

Hearing scuffling sounds behind you, you turned around; panting.

Hook held his steel in between his teeth like you had. While grabbing the hilt, he let out an exhale as he removed it from his mouth. That in combination with the sunlight hitting his brown eyes and making them sparkle, you silently cursed yourself for getting in this undesirable position with such a pretty man.

“Running away already?” He told you with a smirk. “I apologize if I was that scary, Darling.”

Was he implying you were a coward?

“Never.” You spat. “In fact…” you took a few bold steps toward him, making elegant slashes not unlike the ones he had made earlier. “I think you should be scared of me.”

Hook let out a chuckle.

“And why should I?” He taunted.

Close enough now, you gave his shiny blade a slight nudge with your own as a test.

“You’ll see.” You mused.

And so you were back into your flow.

You parried him and made lunges; staying within your range limits but also not allowing him to back you up either.

You were firm. Sturdy.

And Hook seemed to keep things steady with you as well. He was casual with his blocks and jabs, but it wasn’t without effort.

He took a few steps backward; seemingly for fun and allowing you to advance.

Then, it reversed. He pressed forward, and you turned to more parries as you backed up.

It almost seemed like… a game. Or something.

As Hook gave you his good-hearted smirk that you had gotten used to in the five minutes you had known the man, you found that your irritation was gone.

In its place was a certain thrill.

You were excited over the fight. It gave you a challenge; a rush you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Slightly laughing at a fun slice of steel up against each other in a noise that would make most people cringe, you let out a smile as you spun around to deliver another blow.

It all felt like a dance, with Hook leading you expertly; the swords making sharp music of their own.

You found that you were actually enjoying it.

Now, “what were you going to ask Hook for when you won?” was the question on your mind.

Maybe you’d make him your date, you thought jokingly (although you found you weren’t disgusted by the idea).

Hook made a harsh jab at you in the middle of your daydream, disrupting you.

You stumbled backwards.

Trying to get back on your feet as he got close again, you had no choice but to recede to the wall that was part of Merlin Academy’s building behind you.

You stood up fully, but it was too late.

His weapon was now pointed directly at your throat.

Hook jutted his face forward.

“I win.” He gloated, and you opened your mouth.

Cheering burst from down below, and you got briefly distracted and glanced down at the crowd you didn’t even realize had accumulated. It seemed more students had gathered to watch you two than what there had been when the whole thing began.

Remembering your dangerous situation, you immediately brought your attention back to Hook, only to find that he was distracted all the same.

Not wasting a second, you circled your blade around his and forced it out of his hand; making it soar through the air and hit the ground below in a soft clatter.

“No;” you mused with just the slightest hint of smugness, pointing your sword at his throat now. “I win.”

Hook eyes widened, then he pouted, but it seemed superficial; in a sort of mock-pity type of way. You squinted your eyes at him with suspicion. Why would he act like that if he had just lost?

“Students!” A rather calm voice exclaimed from below. ”Please come down from there right now!”

Professor Merlin.

You winced, looking down at the man who wouldn’t tolerate all the rule breaking that had just occurred.

And that distraction was your downfall.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Hook’s coat fly up as his left arm (the one that was hidden the whole time) finally revealed itself. A metal glint could be caught from the area of his hand as it swung around your thin blade, pulling at it with an inexplicable force and yanking it out of your hand.

It joined his own on the ground beneath you. They beautifully crossed each other, forming an “x”.

Hook pushed forward into your space, and you felt something sharp press lightly into the side of your neck.

You squinted down. It appeared to be a metal hook.

Your breath caught; worry shooting through you of it piercing your skin.

Trying to back up, you realized the wall was directly behind you. You had nowhere to run.

Glancing downwards, you briefly pondered the likelihood of breaking something if you jumped down to grab your sword.

“I wouldn’t do that.” Hook advised, somehow knowing what you were thinking. “Wouldn’t want you to ruin those legs of yours, ay?”

You gritted your teeth. How could you have lost?

Looking Hook in the eye now, you decided to accept your fate. The sooner you got this over with, the sooner your feelings of humiliation would pass.

“So,” he said, retracting himself. “about that date.”

“At this rate you’ll be having your date in detention!” Merlin declared, just waiting for you to get down. “Let me know if you need assistance getting down!”

Sparing you a glance, Hook winked at you, saying “another time then” before taking a leap off the wall.

Your heart lurched out of your chest.

He did a roll onto the ground, and you sighed in relief.

You ignored the realization of being worried about his well-being as he picked up both of your blades, immediately walking away with them in his hand.

Thief.

You changed your mind; he was a jerk.

Still, a tiny part of your heart fluttered at the idea of having to comply with his request of going on a date with him.

Even though you had been adverse when you first met him, the brief -yet intense- sword fight had made you learn things about him that were, well, endearing.

As Hook disappeared without a trace and Merlin continued to shout at you, a tiny smile slipped through.

Maybe going on a date with him wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Taglist: For James Hook

@lesbpotmurdocklokistan @little-teacupss @mushroomdemon9 @leoisbabygirl

@brokenmilkcrates @eretsupremacy89 @1-queenofpotatoes-1 @elltheawkward

#my work #rise of red #rise of red x reader #james hook x reader #james hook descendants #james hook x gn reader

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