#never looking at rhis again

[wwhttps]

hrrrrr hes my fave but i cant figure out how to draw him

[slabime]

ye old man angst. I inflict it upon you.

[meimeikyu]

beep

[enchantedephiphany]

But it really is a thankless job esp for someone so emotionally fragile and empathetic and easily discouraged

[nmakii]

must be love

— you find sae’s phone opened, and you decide to snoop.

or; sae gets exposed for being a fake idgafer. this is too sappy. 2.7k words, this is my longest fic in my whole life… what life feels like as a girl who loves too much core

tags: @narcjsistx

— for rhi. love ya, partner.

‘she seems really eager to please,

but she has quite the backbone.’

you huff out in frustration. “ah!! ugh…” you scowl. sae raises his eyebrow. “my groupmate never started on her share of the work… ugh, now i have to cram it..!” you explain your sudden outburst. sae scoffs. “then tell your teacher or something. it’s not like i can do anything about it, im not your teacher.” he, quite obviously, points out. “wh… ugh, i’m gonna… i just— needed to let out my anger.” you groan, face planting and screaming into your textbook. and he hums in response. although he didn’t show it on his face, your outburst was quite out of character for the person he had grown to know. it was… weird, to say the least. and it had caused him to make a mental note not to anger you.

‘her generosity knows no bounds.’

“sae, this is for you. merry christmas!” you hand him a wrapped box. “hm..? i don’t take christmas gifts.” he bluntly states. “i haven’t gotten any gifts since i was 10 years old.” you scoff to yourself. “maybe that’s why you’ve always got that stick in your ass.” you tease. “excuse me?” he glares daggers at you. “aaaanyway! open it!” you shove the box into his hands. he looks at the box, and then at you, and he decides to open it. “new cleats.” he acknowledges. yes, mhm. these were indeed cleats..! “i didn’t need these, i was going to buy them myself.” he states.

“i know, you could probably buy them yourself. but, i thought i’d save you the hassle, y’know?” how thoughtful of you. he eyes the cleats up and down; it’s an expensive brand, but it’s worth the price for the quality. “…thanks.” he says, at last. he didn’t expect a gift from you, he doesn’t have one prepared for you. he’ll make sure to buy you something you’ll love later. “oh! hold on, i wanted to give you some other things ♪~” you fish a keychain and envelope out of your bag and hand it to him.

“…cinnamoroll..?” he questions. “it’s cute right? i thought you’d like it.” what an odd way of thinking… never once has he mentioned anything about cinnamoroll. but then again, it is pretty cute. “…well, i won’t say i hate it. thank you.” he thanks you as he eyes the envelope. “ah, don’t read it in front of me..! i got a bit sappy, it’s pretty. embarrassing…” you awkwardly laugh. “ah, got it.”

later that day, he opened the envelope. there was a letter; it had cute doodles all over. and, he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t feel your affection radiating off the letter. it was… really sweet.

‘what a beautiful human being she is.’

itoshi sae is what you like to call a shy lover, if you were to put it kindly.

you know for a fact that he loves you, he just isn’t good at verbally expressing it. words of affection are too sappy for him. he prefers to show it through the thoughtfulness of his gifts, and the longing touches of his hands, which seem to never leave your’s.

you know he loves you. but, you can’t help but wish for him to say it more often.

it wasn’t many nights lately that the two of you would have a date night. with sae’s rigorous training schedule and endless interviews, the only thing he wants to do at night is to fall asleep beside you.

however, today was the end of the season. meaning, sae would have much more free-time for you.

with sae’s last game for the year completed in 0-4, the first thing he had to do was call you. even though you weren’t far away at all, sitting in the VIP lounge with the relatives and girlfriends of sae’s teammates.

“s/o?” he calls your attention. “mhm? congratulations on your win, babe! i knew you’d win.” you congratulate him. “they could barely keep the ball when they had it. is it really an achievement for me to have won this match?” he says, almost sassily. “pssh— alright. i get it, mr. ‘tepid.’.” you tease.

“don’t call me that.” he huffs. “stay where you are. i’ll go to you.” he commands. you hum in acknowledgment, and he hangs up.

he doesn’t keep you waiting too long before showing up. “there you are…” he sighs in relief, kissing you as his hands automatically find themselves on your body— one tangled in your hair, and the other resting on the curve of your spine.

once he finds the will in himself to finally pull away, he’s breathless.

he looks like he wants to say something, but he holds himself back, his fingers flowing through your hair. “…get ready for our date later tonight, yeah? formal wear.”

you nod, and his lips curl upward. “i’ll see you later.”

you decided to go all out, pull all the brakes. and when sae picks you up in his car, he can’t help thinking that you look like a dream. ‘are you sure you aren’t a model?’ he muses to himself. his heart twists, and the fat of his cheeks redden with affection. your hair flows like silk, and that glimmer in your eyes was once a star, handpicked from the skies, he’s sure of it.

everything about you encourages him to keep staring, but he manages to get ahold of himself. “…you…look beautiful.” is the only thing he can get himself to say. but, beautiful doesn’t seem to encapsulate it, not at all. it’s not even close. beautiful is only a fraction of what he thinks. “heh, you think so?” you ask. “yeah; beautiful.” he assures. “let’s go.” he says, barely turning his attention away from you as he turns to the road.

the drive to the restaurant is quiet, but sae’s mind is screaming at him. his eyes can’t stop moving back to take sneaky glances of you. he drinks up your beauty like a serpent, and he still hasn’t had his fill.

“…we’re here.” he pulls the shift into its’ brake. he gets out, and hands his keys to the valet boy— his words are inaudible through the car door, but he quickly finishes his conversation and moves to open your car door.

you take your first step out, and his hand immediately moves to help you out. god, you might be even prettier under the gleam of moonlight, shining like the pearl of the planet.

his arm moves and snakes around your waist, guiding you into the restaurant under the flash of paparazzi cameras. he grimaces at the loud, pitchy voices of news interviewers, begging for a comment; anything for a headline quote.

the gentle touch of his fingers tighten, as he silently encourages you to walk faster, and lose the crowd. the two of you hurry up, and dash into the restaurant, where you’re greeted with a dim candlelight, mahogany walls, and the rhythmic trumpet of jazz.

“welcome, mr. itoshi.” the receptionist greets. “your table for two is right this way.” she quickly guides the two of you into a secluded part of the restaurant, just like he’s always done as to make sure neither of you are spotted and harassed in public.

lamps hang on the walls, creating a romantic atmosphere. and the curved dark-brown leather booth couch perfectly complements the dark oak roundtable.

the date isn’t too different from the others. the two of you chat about anything that comes to mind. but, it’s actually more like it’s just you chattering on, and sae listening as he admires that excited grin on your face.

on the outside looking in, it’s obvious how he has heart eyes when he stares at you. he’s in a trance as he listens to the rich honeying sweetness of your voice; his finger traces the lines on the roundtable, wishing that it’d be the crinkles of your smile he’s tracing when he blinks and opens his eyes again.

his trance is broken though, when his phone rings. damn it, he forgot to put his phone on do not disturb… “something wrong?” you ask sae, and he takes his phone out of his pocket. “not sure. there shouldn’t be a problem, i cancelled everything for tonight. ugh… just a second, amor…” he remorsefully takes your hand in his as a silent gesture of apology. he took too long to pick up the phone, it already went out…

he opened his call app, and saw that it was from his publicist, dabadie. he groaned before picking up.

“sae! you didn’t mention that you’d be going out on a date today, your paparazzi shot is already all over social medias..!” he worriedly stammers. “i didn’t? well, whatever… it’s just a date photo anyway.” sae shrugs, speaking quietly to ensure that you don’t hear. “right— but… you know the internet… they might criticize you, and say that she’s distracting you from soccer…”

sae is about to correct him— he’s about to say that you aren’t distracting him from his career, but he holds back once he remembers that you’re right beside him, eagerly waiting for his attention to be back on you.

“i… have to speak to you for a second, im already outside the restaurant… the paparazzi didn’t censor out the location well enough either… so, the agency’s security car will follow you two home…” he adds on. sae sighs. “i have to speak to you too. i’ll meet you outside.” he hangs up. he huffs in exasperation and shallowly drops his phone, making it clatter on the table; the screen is left open on his call record. “im sorry, amor… i have to quickly take care of something, i’ll be back soon, i promise.” he kisses your hand.

“hmph, don’t worry. it’s dabadie, right? he’s always worried about something…” you laugh. of course you’d be understanding about it. you always understood. “heh, that he is.” he sasses before leaving the table.

…and you can’t help but notice that his phone is still open.

his phone is practically yelling at you, “check out what’s on me, s/o! check it out right now!”, and you simply can’t resist the temptation to!

first, you simply scroll around at his call record; nothing too interesting, it’s filled with calls from dabadie, and you. as well as occasional calls from his mom. how tepid, as sae would put it. you exit the app, and find his home screen wallpaper to be a picture he took of you; you’re looking out into the distance, the large castle of sleeping beauty in the background.

you smile to yourself at that cute photo, and move to his photos; it’s filled with photos of you, and almost none of him— not unless you were beside him. you scroll down to check out his older photos; they’re childhood pictures, only a few of them are with rin included.

…

…anyways, ‘what is in sae itoshi’s notes app?’, you ponder. you open his notes app.

‘things i want to eat: 1. omelette, 2. paella, 3. pesto pasta’

‘onitsuka tiger mexico - kill bill/grey, new balance 2002r - grey, asics gel NYC - oyster grey’

‘laundry’

‘i love you’

you laugh at the randomness of his notes, quickly scrolling through them. it’s true when they say that a boy’s notes is truly random.

but that last note catches your eye. it’s a pretty odd note that just says ‘i love you’ with no additional text. and, it makes you wonder.

sae’s an organized person, more or less. so, his notes must be filed too. and, you’re correct. there are three files; ‘lists’, ‘important documents’, and a file with your initial as its’ name.

the other two don’t seem as interesting, nor seem as mysterious. so, you click on the mysterious file.

and, the file is filled with everything about you; he’s written down your birthday (including the time…), your family members’ names, foods you like to eat when you aren’t feeling well, shows that you like to watch… everything.

and, there’s a note that catches your eye. it’s a cut-off sentence, since it was too long. you decide to feed your curiosity and click on the note.

‘she talks to everyone, even the people she doesn’t like.

it takes a lot to piss her off.

she’s always kind to me, after all.

she seems really eager to please, but she has quite the backbone.

she works really hard, but i don’t think many see it.

her generosity knows no bounds, and she always knows what kind of joke to make.

i didn’t think it was possible for a soul to be so beautiful.

nor, that someone like i would meet a soul like her’s.

but, im grateful to the stars above that i met her.

someone as kind as her deserves to receive all the love she gives.

i don’t think she knows how loved she really is though.

what a beautiful human being she is.

there simply isn’t enough words to describe the way her dimples crinkle when she’s happy.

the day she was conceived, the gods must’ve tenderly sculpted her heart out of ivory and gold.

the way she enamors everyone in the room simply by walking inside, and the way her personality shines in her rushed, yet sweet handwriting.

one day, i hope she’ll finally be perpetually happy.

so, that she can always shine that enchanting smile of her’s.

she deserves all of it.’

was this a poem..? it didn’t seem like it, it didn’t rhyme, and the stanzas didn’t have equal amounts of lines… but, the way he worded it out almost made it seem like he was a poet.

you don’t… even know what to think at such a romantic confession. it’s certainly much more than sae has ever verbally said to you. but, the fact that he had written this with you in mind makes your heart pound like crazy.

you’ve always known that sae loves you, but seeing his private thoughts all written out for you to read was… overwhelming.

“going through my texts, amor? i’m not texting any other woman besides you.” sae nonchalantly jokes. shit— time went quicker than you’d thought. “ah, nn… just got a bit curious, babe…” you hum. “what were you looking at..?” he asks, and his eyes widen the moment he sees what you were reading. out of all the things on his phone, that was the last thing he wanted you reading.

he embarrassedly closes his phone. “so… what was all that writing about..? were you trying to be a poet?” you jokingly ask; you knew that sae wasn’t mad, per say… he was probably just embarrassed. “n..no… it was, ah…” he clears his throat. “it was just… something i typed out when i realized i had many observations about you that i needed to write down. i just got sidetracked while i was typing.” he explains.

you smile, your entire body feeling like you’re on fire. the love you feel for sae itoshi feels like too much to contain in your heart. “it was really sweet, sae…” you assure him. for some reason, you have the odd incentive to just… cry right now. you love him so much.

“i know. but, it’s also too sappy.” he huffs. “aw, don’t be so shy… i know you’re just a huge softie under that tough surface…” you tease, moving closer to cuddle up to his side. “im not soft. i just love you, okay?” he groans. “don’t make me say embarrassing things.”

your smile widens, making him look at you with that lovesick look in his eyes. “aww… well, i guess i know how much you love me now anyway, so that’s good enough..!” you mentally fist pump at this small victory.

the atmosphere suddenly feels light again as you start to chatter again, teasing him slightly before going back to what you were speaking about before he had left. and still, sae’s looking at you like you’re the world cup trophy, like you’re all he’s dreamed of.

and sae thinks…

‘…you’ll know how sappy i can get when it’s our wedding day.’

but he should save that for another 5 years, or so.

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ HEARTBEAT

tw. pseudocest, noncon, possessiveness, grooming?, age gap, blood, murder, a lot of trauma bonding

wordcount. 6k

a/n. thank yoUUUU rhi for betaing you are my favorite as alwaysssss I love you soooo much ♡♡

okkotsu yuuta x fem!reader

Blood is splattered on the ground of the dirty alley, and there’s another heavy thump when his kick once again lands on the kid’s skull and he moans in pain. He calls him a kid in his head because he’s got that shit-faced little attitude, and now an ugly gap where his front teeth used to sit, but he should be old enough to know better. As a couple passes by the narrow street, he shields things from view a little, before using the long edge of his sheathed sword to push the dumb, bloody face to the side. Because his eyes are starting to look like two overripe tomatoes from the impact, he couches down before the sandy brunet.

“You know what this is about?” Yuuta’s voice is hoarse. He hadn’t really noticed it before, but it’s been a busy week cleaning up your messes. Don’t get him wrong, he doesn’t mind. If anything, it makes him feel sort of useful. You’re good and kind and don’t get into trouble on purpose — which is why he’s here late at night making sure things get handled. Niisan’s got it, after all. He doesn’t bother to clear his voice. “Hey.”

“Take my cash,” the young man below him now whistles through the missing teeth, teary eyes darting around as he pats his hand all over himself to look for a wallet.

Yuuta scoffs. “I don’t want your money. If I did, you think I’d waste my time beating your face in like you had it coming?” The anxious, almost nervous lilt to his own voice doesn’t escape him. If you could see him now, you’d probably say that he was enjoying this too much - and while he is, the idea of this getting back to you doesn’t escape his mind. It won’t though, logically speaking. The kid probably wouldn’t be able to see straight for a couple hours, and you will never find out. “I want to know why you’re hanging around Rika’s kid sister.”

“Kid? W- I don’t know any Rika!” He yelps when he tries to lift his head and gets the handle of the weapon hit hard onto the bridge of his nose again, adding more blood to the mess that’s running all over the bottom of his face. Yuuta really can’t see it, lifting his top lip in slight disgust. Handsome, where? Just as much as this boy isn’t really a kid anymore, neither are you. But you’re younger, and deserving of protection — is it really so bad he wants to imagine you as his baby sister for a bit longer before you start trying to escape from under his wings?

Not that you’re going to go anywhere.

“I don’t know a Rika,” the blond whines again now, hiding his face into his hands to drool and hiccup against the cold floor.

“Orimoto Rika, has a kid sister.” Yuuta bites back, patience running really thin.

“O-I- I kn- oh, we’re in the same uni prep class!” He gets up to close his eyes and focus all his attention on not just kicking against his skull until the answers fall out. He knows that, how else would he even know to ask? The head damage takes it a few seconds to make the guy continue, sniffling. “We’re friends- or- my friend knew her. I liked her so we hung out a few times.” Yuuta’s hand is cold around the worn handle.

He takes a slow breath, watches the cloud of air as he lets it out. The promise ring glints in the light of the street, and it’s all familiarity and instinct that makes him brush his thumb over it. “Were you serious with her? Or did you tell her whatever so you could fuck her? Hm? Did you fuck my little sister?” The brunet snivels and whines under him when his foot lands back right before his face, demanding attention.

“I won’t talk to her anymore, I swear! I swear I w-won’t even - it’ll be like I never existed. Please.” The pitiful whining he’s doing, groveling like a dog below him - sort of reminds him of a younger him. Someone who didn’t have a purpose yet, and was scared of everything for it. The heavy weight of the ring clings to his hand when he lifts it to unsheath the katana, seeming to wrap a comforting palm around his own. If he could, he'd tangle fingers with her.

“P-please, let me go home! I didn’t do- I wouldn’t touch your s-sister, I didn’t know.”

“I hate guys who aren’t serious with her.” He clicks his tongue, and has to spit out the nasty taste that this entire situation leaves on his tongue. The weight of the sword is barely an inconvenience when both hands wrap around the handle properly. He’s doing this for Rika and him. Always. “She deserves so much better.” A mean flash of possession crosses his thoughts - how no one except him will ever be good enough. But he pushes it back, because that has nothing to do with why he’s doing this. Nothing.

+

“Yuuta~” Her voice haunts when he closes his eyes.

He’s in the sandpit of the Children’s hospital, rocking back and forth softly on the edge of it as he waits. The sun makes the sand nice and toasty, it warms his feet when he plants them down. “Yuuta!” It’s instinctive, when he looks up at the familiar voice. Rika’s hair travels in a perfect arc behind her when she runs to make it catch the light like a halo. Pretty blue dress making the shine of her hair even brighter, cheeks rosy, and her eyes glittering diamonds when they find his and she crashes down next to him. Her scraped knee is proof that it’s too hard, but he can’t help but smile when her cheek touches his arm on the landing.

Something hits the floor with a loud thump.

Yuuta turns over his shoulder to watch. There’s a smaller child that’s chin down on the earth behind them two, thick crocodile tears threatening to spill when Rika gasps. “Rika neechan~ Wait.” You pout, straightening up quicker than you should to reach your hands out to her. The girl hurries over to dust your cheeks off and drag you along behind her. It’s such a nice day out, Yuuta’s sweater is just thick enough to make his entire body warm. He stares at your face a little too long, before glancing between you two.

You’re still rounder than she is, but it’s undeniably eerie. “Your sister?” He asks softly, and Rika grins wide. She gently maneuvers you by the hand to sit next to her, then pulls you into a hug.

Her lips are pretty pink when she licks them. “This is Yuuta. Say ‘hi Yuuta’.” You parrot your sister obediently, as she waves your hand around at him. “Me and Yuuta are going to get married. So you should be very nice to him, okay?” Her sweet cheeks are the exact same as yours, long lashes and big, knowing eyes that always have him staring. You just look absentmindedly at the grass when Rika holds you into her side, but nod.

He smiles softly when your big eyes find his again. And Rika giggles. “And she’s gonna be your sister one day, so you gotta protect her well. We’re gonna be one happy family, promise?” She extends her arm to hold out a pinky finger at him. “That’s what I want.”

+

His fingers are pressing indents into your arm. It’s unusual. Yuuta’s always gentle, he’s soft and cares, but today his hand is screwed almost protectively tight around your upper arm, and you can’t say that you hate the feeling. Maybe childishly, you want him to squeeze even harder - so you’ll have no reason to get out.

You don’t come here a lot. Not since the accident tore open the painful scarred memory of it, but even before then, it wasn’t exactly your favorite place. It’s at Yuuta’s gentle prompting that you even managed to dress, and now walk however slowly between the low stone walls. The rain taps impatiently on the umbrella above, as the older boy casts you a careful glance. Then slowly bends to sit on his ankles, and grabs your hand ever so softly, meeting your eyes. His hands, though big enough to dwarf yours now, are almost velvety when they clasp around yours. It feels like he’s exponentially grown, while you’ve stayed pretty much the same.

Partly the illness. Mostly the age.

“Think you can go on?” he softly asks, kind eyes sympathetically regarding you. Like he’s making a judgment call about whether to turn back after all - debating the long walk back to the hospital. “I’ll be right here with you.”

“You’ve already gone before, haven’t you?” Your voice sounds a bit accusatory, a bit pouty too. Can’t be helped. Yuuta could be a living saint and you’d still find it hard. He clearly doesn’t take it to heart, because he smiles. His one hand then moves up to ruffle your hair.

“It’s still hard for me too, though,” his lips quirk up in an almost smile, but you can tell he doesn’t mean it. It’s sort of comforting to know that even someone like him feels it. Of course he would. Your neesan was family, but Yuuta probably knew her better than you ever could. He was beside her when she got out the two times, and was waiting when she had to get re-admitted. He was there when she got hit— there’s a comforting brush of your cheek when he stands back up and the umbrella gets so much higher. Yuuta blinks. “Come. I think you can do it.”

Your chubby cheeks flood with warmth, as you take his fingers into your hands with a nod. “Okay.”

It’s like this that you wind up at the headstone, stepping through dredged earth that’s been walked on too much. It seems to cling to the bottoms of your shoes with intent - you squeeze Yuuta nii’s hand tighter at the sight of the family grave. It now holds three of your kin in a warm embrace under the several bouquets of wilting flowers, and however morbidly, you think that maybe you’ll be joining soon. You’re young, but it’s not lost on you when the nurses send each other pitying looks.

“Is this where neesan’s buried?” Your voice sounds pinched and small, and sort of pathetic. You imagine Yuuta nii cried when he came to the funeral, but he wouldn’t have whined. You’re whining. You don’t want Yuuta to get fed up with you. Not when he’s the last semblance of ‘family’ you have left. After a while of staring blankly at the stone, he nods, and turns over his shoulder to smile at you again, pulling you a little closer to him. Your arms loop around his waist, staring down at the pretty whites that shake under the rain. “Is this where I’ll be buried when I die?”

He freezes. You feel bad about the double take he does when his spine goes more straight, rigid limbs dropping by his side as a deep, uncomfortable breath makes its way out. Your hands wring together instead.

However long it takes for him to unlock his limbs is however long you breathe through your tears as they well up stubbornly along your lash line, before your head is pulled to his ribs into an embrace. He swallows back emotion himself. “That’s not- I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise. I promise.”

“I’m sick-”

“No.” His eyes glint with something silvery when he takes your face between both hands and lets your childishness wash over him, clenching his jaw. “What happened to Rika was an accident- I- I couldn’t do anything then. But nothing’s going to happen to you as long as I’m here. I need- you to believe me.”

You don’t flinch when he uses your cheek to turn your face his way, but the urge still sits. His eyes study your face too intently, like he’s looking for something he can’t quite find. “I promised that I’d be a niichan that protects you.”

Rain splatters into a million glistening flecks as it meets the headstone.

“Okay,” you say.

It isn’t lost on you that his jaw is set too tight as he drags you back by the hand towards his bike, fist clenched around the umbrella. He breathes a tiny, ‘Later, Rika’ before turning on his heel. You don’t manage the same. Your voice gets stuck in your throat, even when he helps you up onto the bike rack in the back, pulling your face into his chest too tight- squeezes you to mold against him. He smells nice for a teen boy. The kiss he leaves on your crown is gentle, and leaves a soft warmth on your skin — You doubt it is really meant for you.

+

The door pushes open as you’re putting clips into your bangs, tongue trapped between your teeth. You cast Yuuta a glance through the mirror when he lingers at the door, and try to smile. “I’m almost ready.” You’re no longer too keen on fighting, the longer the silent treatment drags on. After a while of watching you with his arms crossed over his chest — he walks over to your bed to plop himself down and lets himself fall backward.

“I’m sorry,” the noiret sighs at nothing in particular, as you put on a necklace and after debating for a second, some perfume. The noise makes Yuuta look, studying you when you turn. It’s easy to forget sometimes that Yuuta didn’t have to stay with you, and he sure as hell didn’t have to give up a lot of his youth to take care of you like he does. Like your other family refuses to do when all the cards are on the table. He catches your stare. “You know I love you. I… worry when you’re not right here where I can see you. We stick together.”

“I know.” Your smile only barely makes your lips move, but you do mean it. You just wish realizations like this didn’t always have to come at the cost of fighting. “For what it’s worth, I’ll probably always forgive you.” You try to laugh, and brush your hair out of your eyes a final time before grabbing your bag. “I’m only going to be out for a few hours, max.”

Yuuta frowns when he sits up. His dark hair is brushed out of his face, damp and soft from the shower. “You’re still going?”

You blank. “Yeah, Himari and Shota are waiting for me. We’re going to see a movie.” He only has to let his eyes travel over your body and clothing once, for you to read what he’s thinking. You yank the edge of your skirt a bit lower, and pull your shoulders up. “What, what?! I can’t go out looking like this? It’s basically the same length as my uniform, what’s wrong with that?!”

“I didn’t say anything,” he breathes back, empty eyes regarding you with a static sort of- indifference, you guess.

“You don’t have to, niichan! God!” You turn to walk out the room, but Yuuta grabs your wrist when you pass by the bed. Sat down like he is, eyes tracing you like a lion- Yuuta no longer looks like the boy that used to draw stars on the ceiling of your hospital room for your amusement. Your cheeks heat when he basically glares straight at you for your attitude, and mulls the answer around in his mouth. Your anger subsides as you take a breath. This is the guy who makes you fresh apple juice in the morning, and calls you up between shifts. Because he cares. He just cares.

“Can I please go, Yuuta nii?”

After a few seconds, he clicks his tongue, staring at the edge of your skirt before tugging at it too, barely hiding a frown you can see dig between his brows. “You know I don’t like that Shota kid?”

Your lips jut out. “Yeah…” It’s getting awfully close to time to leave. You take a step back just to get his hands away from you. It’s distracting, and this is your brother you’re dealing with. “But he’s really nice. He started high school already but he used to be in my class the last three years, so… so you don’t have to worry. He knows I can’t do everything because I’m sick and he says—”

“Yeah, I’m sure he says everything you want to hear… You’re smarter than this. You don’t actually believe that.”

“He’s my friend.” A friend that makes your heart beat a bit faster when he smiles at you, but what’s it to him? “He doesn’t lie.”

Yuuta grimaces when you stare him down. “Don’t tell me about teenage boys, I used to be one.” He bristles before sitting up straighter, and though he’s technically below you, you still feel his energy tower as those big, dark eyes stay on your face. “Are you really ‘going to see a movie’? Or are you just going to sit in a boy’s room all night while I’m worried sick-”

You’re about ready to walk out, but his fingers are still looped around your wrist. “We are going to the movies! Himari and I! Just because a boy is there- ugh! Niichan, don’t make it weird!” The heat burns higher on your cheeks when you ball your fists, ignoring the pressure behind your eyes. This is so embarrassing. “I want to go.”

It’s quiet for much too long, making goosebumps appear all over your exposed skin. Then he breathes. “Come here.” His voice has more of an edge than it used to. You used to like the way your name fell from his lips. You’re not so sure you do anymore. Instead of storming out and forgetting all about him, you stare back at the sharpness in his eyes. When he pats his lap with familiarity, you jerk a brow. But you sit. His breath brushes along your neck too softly where he’s seated. It tickles on the way down.

It almost feels like… like he could wrap his hands around your neck and squeeze until you stopped struggling.

Yuuta nii wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t.

Fingers come to your necklace, undoing it, and it drops into your lap on the pretty, blue skirt. It’s suddenly much too cold in the room, and you resist the urge to wrap your arms around yourself. It’s fine. You’re fine. Yuuta is family.

Still the untouched skin of your neck feels too exposed.

If he notices your rigid posture, he doesn’t bother fixing it. Just reaches, then pushes your head forward. The childishly familiar pink, bedazzled heart he holds up instead glints, swaying from where you left it on your side table for the night. “You get back at 9,” his lower voice sounds, “or else I’m driving out to wherever you are and dragging you back to my car.” When you don’t say anything in response, he brushes away your hair from your shoulders.

“Yuuta nii,” you start, clamming up when he drapes the dainty thing around your throat and does the closure for you. “I wasn’t going to wear that one tonight.” You don’t always want to wear whatever Rika left behind until infinity.

“I think you will,” he breathes back, and kisses your exposed shoulder. It’s less sweet, more something to punctuate his statement. If he wasn’t so familiar and soft, you’d immediately fight against the way his strong arms wind around your waist to anchor you in his lap. “Just wear it.” His hands stay against your skin, long after he’s finished. Too long, and after seconds of sitting in the tense silence, you jerk up off his lap to grab your discarded bag from the floor. The other necklace drops to the carpet somewhere, but you don’t care.

“Fine,” you bring out tightly, before giving him a last look. Your bottom lip trembles a slight bit, so you suck it into your mouth to make it stop. And tears sting at the corners despite yourself. “Later, then.”

“Tell Himari that niichan says hello. It’s been so long since she’s been here.” He gets up from your bed too, and you resist the urge to rush out the room before him when he steps around you. You can’t fight the feeling that somehow… you were just caught in your lie. Your phone beeps in your bag, as Yuuta nii disappears around the corner. Shota, probably.

+

Blood. The door creaks, swings against the wind.

Dead.

You hope he’s dead. Blood pools at the center of the showers, sinks down the drain too slowly. It sticks to the pretty porcelain tiles of the old school locker room before the water gurgles it down.

They’re dead.

You don’t have to question it before it’s confirmed. Before the heavy, silver cleaver is lodged into the side of the already ruined skull. All of them. All of the boys of the soccer team seem to be present, though you don’t want to try and count. Counting makes it real. This shouldn’t be. The heavy thump makes way for a gross squelch when he yanks the metal out, and keeps the body down with his foot.

The spatters on his face are still wet. You can’t help the way your voice comes out when you breathe in deep and try to keep the tears from spilling over. The cleaver’s red and sticky and so is his hand, up to his forearm, his forehead from wiping his hair away. All of it, ruined.

“Y-yuuta nii?”

The metal door of the locker slams closed with the wind and hits you in the back, sending you skittering forward a few steps before you force the air out of your lungs with a stuttered pant.

With a soft smile, he turns over his shoulder. “Shhh.” The blood’s crusted under his nails when he presses a finger to his lips, then waves you closer. “Help niichan out?” His eyes glint over, before his smile goes a little wider, and he whips the blood off the weapon onto the ground. “S’ your fault I had to do this after all. We can clean up together. Hm?”

Your breathing is so shallow that you can feel your heartbeat in between your ears. You aren’t sure why you nod. The guilt tastes bitter on the way down.

+

Rika was dead on impact. She didn’t have a chance, even after she fought so vehemently against what took your mom. You know that. Even if she didn’t get struck by misfortune then, she might’ve not lived past her teens.

Yuuta doesn’t seem to know. He also doesn't seem to consider the same for you either— letting you toy with the edge of his shirt where you’re curled into him in your too-small bed. The hospital wants you back for another check-up.

It’s true that you’ve already outlived your sister, but that doesn’t mean it’ll last forever. Yuuta nii doesn’t want to hear it. As he brushes your hair with his fingers, you scratch the arm where the IV’s always get attached with an absent minded pout. Until Yuuta notices, pouting down at you. “Are you still feeling dizzy? I can make you some green tea if you’ll let go of me for a few minutes. Lots of honey like you like.” You quickly shake your head.

To him this is final, the worst you’ll ever get, and in reality that’s probably not the case. You don’t tell him though. His deep eyes stay on you a little too long. “What’s wrong?”

Sometimes you wake up and can’t open your eyes past a blurry sliver, your head tight enough to make your skull feel like it’s caving in. Times where you have to clasp your stomach painfully tight to hold yourself together — stumbling in tears into Yuuta’s room. Like you’ll disintegrate in his arms unless you lock him around yourself. This isn’t as bad, but you still feel bad.

Feverish and cold all at once, achy where your stomach goes up and down. You can’t mention the possibility of having to go back into urgent care without aniiki spiraling, so you keep your mouth shut. “I don’t like green tea,” you guiltily admit instead, and stare up at him when he holds a few knuckles to your head, studying you.

His expression scrutinizes you a little tighter, before he pets over your crown. He presses a soft kiss onto your lips. It’s Rika that loved it, you want to say, but for some reason you can’t make the words come out. He sighs, slightly put out, but then nods. “If you’re feeling better later, maybe you can help Yuuta nii with the curry. Okay?”

“Mhm,” you smile up at him, and you can see how the muscles in his jaw unclench.

His soft hands cup your face intently, staring down at you too intently. It starts sweet, until the feeling of his breath dust over your face and you watch as he flicks his eyes all over you. “You look so much like her. I can tell now that you’re getting older though,” his thumb smoothes over your soft cheek. “We should see if there’s something in Rika’s stuff you can still wear.”

“Won’t be able to fit it anymore, niichan.” Your voice comes out apologetic, though you don’t know why.

“Hm. You might be right.” His look goes more distant before he pulls you closer. Legs tangled, arms loosely looped around you. “You’re still smaller than me though. Luckily.” He takes a deep breath, before nuzzling his nose into your crown to breathe long and deep. His warm hands trail over yours before squeezing. “I love you, you know that? Always will.”

You stare at the wall of mementos past Yuuta’s shoulder. Suffocatingly cram packed. Her pictures. Her music poster. Her pre-teen bottle of perfume you wear only on special occasions. Your hands stop toying with the edge of his shirt to brush instead along his forearm until you meet something that isn’t skin. Yuuta’s quiet, but his breathing is slightly pinched— you don’t mean to.

You glance between you two to the plastic your finger hooks onto. The bracelet she made in the hospital care ward for Yuuta that he still wears despite the fact that the color has long peeled off of the cheap beads. “You loved neesan, right?” Your lashes almost brush when you look back at him, watch him trap his tongue between his teeth for a moment as pink sits on his cheeks. His hand wraps around yours to tangle fingers.

“I… did.”

He swallows. “She made the hospital seem a little less lonely.” The mementos seem to stare at you from across the room as he speaks, and the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach refuses to fade. If anything, it gets more painful. Tighter. “We’re going to be together forever though. And I,” he squeezes your hand, voice fading to barely a whisper, “I love you. Love you so much.”

There's a cold slid over your fingers when he moves. You allow him to slip off the band, gently, and almost as if he wants to give it to you without you noticing, his fingers slide the cursed thing onto your hand instead. His smile is gentle, makes those dark eyes look a little less pressing. “When you’re cleared from going back to the hospital, we can find me a matching one. We still have to get married, right?”

The room feels cold.

“... Okay.”

+

“Let’s kiss?”

It’s too late to be early when the shared bed gets crowded over on your side. “St- I’m going to sleep, Yuuta nii. Stop.” You don’t open your eyes to the touch, definitely not to the gentle brush of his fingers over your lips when he gets too close. Always too close- it’s suffocating. “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

“Don’t be like that.” He sounds happy. He always sounds like that when it has to do with you, and it doesn’t take long for your eyes to flutter open when the thumb instead pushes into your mouth. “If we get married, this will be normal. Don’t pull back.” He pushes onto your tongue to make you hold it in your mouth all heavy and tasting of him, then leans in to push his forehead to yours. Deep, possessive eyes pinning you in place.

“You don’t want to?” It almost sounds mocking. You know you brought this on yourself. You asked to go home early, you asked to invite friends. Maybe this is payback the way big brothers give it. There’s tears that spring up anyway when his other hand slips under your shirt and he squeezes your soft belly. As the spit he wipes on your lips gets kissed away by an impatient sigh. “I’ve wanted to for such a long time. You wouldn’t ask me to wait more.”

“Yuuta nii. We’re siblings, aren’t we?” The ring glitters. Your hand is clenched into the front of his shirt as warm hands grab down your body— hands you love. Hands you trusted.

“Of course we are. That’s why I’m doing this, silly girl.” Hands that push your underwear down your round hips despite you fighting to keep them up. He giggles when you burn with embarrassment, before pressing kisses to your temple. “I love you. I love you, I love you. Who better to kiss you than big brother?” You shake your head, try to push- he doesn’t budge. Just keeps your body in place under his with his weight.

“G-get off of me, Yuuta! Stop being so weird!” You cry, pushing until he grabs your wrist and forces it down beside your head. He’s still smiling though, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Like you’re still a child acting out. It’s that which makes you squirm more, and the glare digs into your forehead when he gets on top of you. “Stop~ I don’t want to kiss.”

Instead he laces his fingers with your ring hand, as the other patiently flutters down to rub over your pussy. You don’t want to. You don’t. Yuuta just smiles when he tilts his head to regard you, and squeezes your fingers a little tighter. “Rika-chan asked me to take care of you. Don’t get so mad.”

+

It’s getting cooler and cooler and cooler the longer he stands. Pressed in the corner of the sterile, greenish blue atmosphere with white sheets draped over your body. He takes a long, deep breath until the nurse finishes up with the checks, taking freshly drawn blood away in a vial. “You’re the guardian?”

The red stands out against your complexion as your restless sleep drifts deeper— he shifts in his seat to lace his hands together. “Her big brother, yes.”

She doesn’t bother to pretend to care when tapping her clipboard, gives a distracted smile. “The doctor will be here within the next hour, okay? Please wait here until then.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Yuuta’s quick not to let the smile quirk up onto his mouth when she’s already walking out before he finishes. As soon as the door falls into lock he gets up from the uncomfortable chair to kneel by your bedside and grasp your hand.

Soft. Small.

He hates to admit that he could spend hours here by your side; but the truth is the truth. He could, and he has. And he will, until it is no longer necessary.

Yuuta kisses your hand with a gentle smile, feeling your heartbeat thump under his lips. You mumble, he swears he can hear his name. “I’m here. Niichan’s here.” He smiles a little more when the soft fingers wrap back around his hand and he watches your expression relax even in your sleep. He can’t help it, the soft thumping against his cheek makes his entire body warm.

You’re so alive, and so close- every cell in his body yearns to be beside you. He kisses the area between your thumb and pointer in an attempt to soothe the feeling of biting down entirely. Instead he clasps your hand with two of his before standing up. “You would have loved Rika.” His mouth tingles. “She would’ve hated you- but you would have loved her. I think she would have been a bit jealous though.”

He dips to press a soft kiss onto your lips, humming softly when your warm breath dusts over his cheeks. “You’re so cute.” A few years ago, you would’ve had visitors waiting for you. “I know you were looking forward to graduation, but I’m still here for you.” He places his hands on both sides of your face to hover over you instead of pulling back, can’t keep himself from it.

“You don’t want to leave your niichan, right?” It’s not your fault that everyone else wants you to move on. He’ll take you just as you are. He has to force himself to pull back before he kisses you again, so you don’t wake just yet. You will. And you’ll cry into his chest about missing your precious graduation, and about being stuck here again, just when you were getting better. He never much wanted you in uni anyway.

From his space sat on the edge of your bed, he can easily see how the blanket squirms. How the motion curls and wiggles until he easily pulls the sheet down your chest, then your stomach.

Two beady eyes stare up at him as he brings his face a little closer. The fly head is still clinging to your stomach, hasn’t moved from where he left it. By now it’s become an accessory every few months. It’s not strong enough to kill you— just barely enough to keep you believing you’re still sick, and that’s all he really needs. You need his care, need him. He resists the urge to pick the thing up at least until he can take you back home.

Instead he nudges it up a little higher, so he can place his palm onto your belly to stroke gentle circles in its place, feeling the heat through the gown. He can feel your heart bounce all the way down your body, it’s so cute. When the little fodder curse crawls onto your chest, lids shooting open as you gasp. “Yuuta nii-” Your eyes are lined red, and as soon as they find him you start bawling.

More than happy to let him hike you up from the bed and into his arms, where you bury your face into his neck. Your hiccups are so cute. It’s easy to kiss them quiet when you don’t have enough breath to ask him to stop. He’s sure this time he could slip his tongue into your mouth and you wouldn’t say a thing.

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2024. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

[nomie-11]

Chapter 10 - Shifting Tides

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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Soo, Sawyer, huh, Rhi?” Violet starts as the three of them walk down their new dorm. First year dorms may be the smallest private dorms on campus, but damn, all Genevieve could think was that was the best night sleep of her life. 

“I felt like celebrating,” She said, and Genevieve whistled. 

“You didn’t think to ask me first?” She says, her words light as a small smile comes on her face. 

“You have enough on your plate, sex wise,” Rhiannon said, teasing Genevieve. “And why have I not heard of you celebrating?”  She asks Violet. “Ridoc definitely has a thing for you, not emotionally just physically, and Liam has a thing for you emotionally.” 

“Liam? Liam Mairi? You’re insane.” Violet says, waving her off. “And either way, if he wants to celebrate with me, he’s going to have to ask first.” 

Genevieve and Rhiannon laugh, and she giggles too, a blush on her cheeks. 

“Good morning, Ladies.” Ridoc says, forcing his way through the crowd and slinging an arm around their shoulders as they enter the dining hall. “Or should I say, riders.”

“I like the sound of riders,” Rhiannon replies, shooting a smile in his direction. 

“It has a certain ring to it,” Ridoc agrees. 

“It definitely sounds better than dead.” Genevieve says, her voice serious but the tone implicates a tease. 

“Where’s your relic?” Violet asks, used to ignoring the awful offhand comments Genevieve makes. 

“Right here,” He says, his arm falling off of their shoulders as he rolls his sleeve of his tunic up to reveal the brown silhouette of a dragon on his upper arm. “You?” 

“Can’t see it. It’s on my back.” Ridoc whistles, and he spins to face Rhiannon. 

“And you? What about yours, Rhi?” 

“Somewhere you’ll never see,” She responds, and he laughs. 

“You wound me.” He slaps a hand over his heart. 

“I highly doubt that,” she retorts, but there's a smile on her face. The group moves through the hall into the line for breakfast. 

“And Genevieve?” He asks Rhiannon, completely bypassing asking Genevieve who he knows isn’t paying attention. 

“On her back,” Rhiannon says. “It’s crazy looking. Her rebellion relic mixes with her dragon relic. It’s insane.” 

As they make their way through the line, Genevieve’s mind is elsewhere. It feels as if the energy in the dining hall has shifted. It’s different now. 

“Asshole,” Ridoc mutters in a context Genevieve hasn’t heard. “I still can’t believe they tried to kill you.” 

“I can,” Violet shrugged, taking her chances with a maybe poisoned mug of apple juice. “I’m the weakest link, right? Unfortunately for me, that means people are bound to try and take me out of the wing.” 

“I don’t even know what you’re saying, but they’d have to kill me first,” Genevieve says, taking a bite out of her own apple. As they walk to the fourth wing section of the cafeteria, they find a table and only three extra seats. 

“Mind if we—” Ridoc starts. 

“Absolutely! It’s yours!” A couple of guys from Tail Section scurry off the bench. 

“Sorry, Hale!” The other says over his shoulder as they find another table. 

What the fuck?

“Well, that was really fucking weird.” Rhiannon rounds the other side of the table, and Genevieve sits on the other side as Violet follows. 

“Even weirder?” Ridoc remarks, gesturing across the hall toward First Wing. 

The girls follow his line of sight, and their eyebrows lift. Jack Barlowe is being squeezed out of his table. He’s forced to stand as others take a seat. 

“What the hell is going on?” Rhiannon bites into a pear and chews. Jack moves again, and then again.

”Oh, how the mighty have fallen,” Ridoc notes, watching the same show they all are. There’s no satisfaction in their view, everyone knows feral dogs bite harder when they’re cornered. 

“Hey, Hale,” the stocky girl from First Wing I beat in my second challenge says with a tight smile as she walks past our table. 

“Hey,” she says, nodding her head, but then she turns to face Rhiannon. “That girl hasn’t spoken one word to me since I threatened her hair when she beat up Violet.”

“It’s because you bonded Tairn.” Imogen blows her pink hair out of her face and throws her leg over the bench. She sits, pushing the sleeves up from her tunic. “The morning after Threshing is always a clusterfuck. Power balance shifts, and you, little Hale, are now the most powerful rider in the quadrant. If they weren’t scared before they’re definitely scared now.” 

She blinks, her pulse elevating. Is that what is going on? Social groups have split, but it still doesn’t make sense-

“Which is why you’re sitting with us now?” Rhiannon arches a brow at the second-year. “Because I can count on one hand the number of nice words you’ve said to any of us.” She holds up a fist with zero fingers raised. 

Genevieve glances around the table, to the seconds years, Quinn and Imogen, and to Sawyer who has finally arrived. Imogen is cool and Quinn is cool as well, but this was strange. Genevieve’s eyes glance at the patches on their jackets, but she doesn’t know what any of it means. She knows that her patches mean Flame Section, Fourth Wing, First Year, and now also Iron Squad. 

“You weren’t interesting enough to sit with before, and now you’ve survived Threshing, so you’re worth it.” Imogen responds as she bites into a muffin. Suddenly the third years in their section sit down too, and Genevieve almost chokes on the apple she’s been nursing the entirety of breakfast. 

“My dragon is not that cool, if that's what you’re looking for,” She says, biting her tongue from saying anything mean. 

“I take immediate offense to that,” Tairn huffs. “Now eat something more than an apple and get over your fear that Oren has poisoned you.” 

“I’m not eating the food on my plate,” Genevieve counters. “It’s definitely poisoned.” 

“We aren’t looking for your dragon,” Imogen says, her voice strong. “We’re looking for you, because now you’re under our watch. Now eat your food.”

Genevieve looks bewildered, but she doesn’t say a single thing. 

“You’re the Iron Squad, and you and Violet both have some crazy dragons on your tail. That means eyes are on you from every direction. A huge red target is painted on your back.” Her voice is low, but it cuts through the clamor of the hall. “And whether you like it or not, this balance isn’t going to change any time soon, so get used to it.” 

Genevieve glances at Rhiannon, confusion evident on her face. 

“That doesn’t explain why you’re here, though.” She says, her words biting and strong. 

“Oh, Xaden didn’t tell you?” She says, a sly smile on her face. “Tairn and Sgaeyl are mated, so even though your relic isn’t on your arm, you’re one of us now.”

“Oh shit,” Ridoc whispers, and Violet nods her head in agreement. 

“You’re in our squad now.” 

—————————————-

Violet had explained to Genevieve that mated dragons aren’t common, not even by a long shot, and to let mated dragons bond riders in different years was unheard of, but dragons do what dragons want, as exemplified by Violet. 

She explained that Xaden and Genevieve themselves are now binded, their lives intertwined in some sick curse that ties their fate with a little red string. When one dies, the other dies, when one gets hurt, the other feels it, when one feels another strong emotion, the other feels the emotion. She was never alone with Tairn now, but not only was Tairn in her head, Xaden was too. 

“Stop thinking so hard and get on my back, we have maneuvers to master,” Tairn grumbled, his voice low. She mounted his back, and found her seat easily. 

“Were you planning on telling me? That you and Sgaeyl were mated?” She asked over the bond, her mind distracted from her actions. 

“Sgaeyl had assured me that the wingleader would tell you, and that I shouldn’t worry about it,” He said, his tone grumpy like it usually was. “I see now that he did not, and I should stop trusting that wingleader.” 

“You don’t like Xaden?” She asked, as they took off, following second behind Professor Kaori, who Tairn had said he would only follow because he was Genevieve’s professor. 

“I don’t like the boy,” Tairn huffed. “But Sgaeyl loves him, so I won’t char him. Maybe I’ll lightly toast him.” 

“You shouldn’t set him on fire anyways, he’s an asset,” She said quickly, ignoring the blush rising on her cheeks. Genevieve cast another glance down at Violet, a few dragons back. Andarna didn’t come, Violet flew on Astrape alone.  “What’s the deal with Violet and Astrape?” Genevieve asked, quickly diverting the conversation away from Xaden and onto Violet. “She looks like she can’t hold her seat.” 

“She can’t,” Tairn replies, banking left, following Kaori into the canyons. “Astrape is one of the strongest dragons in the vale, maybe third to Codagh and I. Her powers are keeping Violet in that seat.” 

“Shouldn’t she be saving her powers, for…” Genevieve trailed off, not knowing how to verbalize what she wanted to say. “…combat?”

“Stop asking meaningless questions,” Tairn huffed, his annoyance evident in every word that was communicated in their bond. “Astrape has more power in her than most other dragons could even imagine having. She will be fine.” 

And Genevieve nodded, who was she to argue with a dragon, an all-mighty, all-knowing being. The dragon that had chosen her. She was not one to argue. Her grip tightened on Tairn’s back as the cool rush of wind from the canyon blew against her hot skin. She knew better than to press Tairn when he was already somewhat irritated, but she wanted to know how Violet was keeping her seat. 

As they neared the sharp turns of the canyon, Genevieve let the questions go, her focus snapping to the task at hand. Flight training was brutal, she couldn’t afford a lapse in concentration. Train’s powerful wings sliced through the air as they banked hard left, narrowly avoiding the jagged cliffs that seemed to rise out of nowhere. Kaori’s dragon led the pack, weaving through the narrow paths with ease. She could sense Tairn’s irritation at following anyone, but for some reason, it felt as if he cared enough about her to swallow his pride. 

Behind her, the presence of a struggling Violet claws at her mind. 

Be quiet, Geneiveve, She chastised herself. Violet is your friend. She’s trying. Be nice. 

“I didn’t know nice was in your vocabulary,” Train huffed. “Now focus.” 

“I am!” She shot back, adjusting her posture as they approached a narrow pass. The jagged rocks below glinted dangerously in the sunlight, promising death to anyone who made the wrong move. 

As they passed the gap, her eyes flicked back to Violet, who was struggling more visibly now. Astrape’s wings beat with precise power, but there was something off about the way Violet held herself in the saddle. She was slipping, her body tense and rigid, as if each move was a desperate attempt to stay upright. Geneiveve knew that look–the look of someone who was fighting for control, not just over their dragon, but over themselves. 

“She’s going to fall,” Genevieve muttered over the bond, her heart skipping a beat. 

“She won’t,” Train replied, his voice steady but cold. “Astrape won’t let her.” 

Kaori signaled the next maneuver–a sharp dive into a winding ravine, followed by an immediate ascent. Genevieve could feel the pressure in her chest as Tairn obeyed, plunging toward the ground with a terrifying speed that left her stomach in knots. 

As they pulled up, her breath caught in her throat as Tairn shot off. He was so fast. The wind in her hair was so freeing. 

“You ready?” Train asked, his voice taking on a sharper edge. 

“Always.”

With a swift movement, they dove into the loops, Train’s wings angling perfectly to guide them through the tight spaces. Genevieve felt every shift, every beat in sync with her movements. They were seamless, an extension of each other. The world blurred around her as they cut through the air, the adrenaline pumping through her veins. 

But out of the corner of her eye, she saw something. Violet, behind her, struggling more than ever. Astrape’s wings fell, just for a split second, and Genevieve knew–knew deep in her heart–that Violet wasn’t going to make it through the next turn.

“Violet!” She shouted, the sound swallowed by the rush of wind, her heart lurching. 

She felt the tug of the bond, Xaden’s awareness surging into her thoughts. He felt it too, the fear, the instinct to protect. But Genevieve couldn’t let herself be distracted by that–by him. 

“Leave it!” Train barked, sensing her instinct to intervene. 

Genevieve hesitated, her grip tightening as the next loop approached. She had to make a decision. Focus on the maneuver, or–

Astrape dipped down, grabbing Violet with her claws and tossing her back into her seat. 

“Thank the gods,” Genevieve whispered, her own heart racing as if she was the one who fell. 

“Look at you, you have emotions!” Train laughed. 

“Oh, shut up!”

—————————————

“Were you planning on-” her shin came into contact with the punching bag she was using. “never telling me that our dragons are mated?” 

Xaden’s eyes were dead set onto her body under the guise of watching her train. Garrick, Bodhi, Imogen, Liam, and a few other rebellion kids were in the gym. As Genevieve’s eyes cast over the room, her eyes narrowed on Violet. 

“And why is Imogen training Violet?” Her other leg made contact strongly, but she was distracted, so she stumbled back. 

“I was going to tell you, I was just waiting for…” he trailed off, his words lost on an already angry Genevieve. 

“No you weren’t. You were going to wait for me to ask like always,” she snapped. Her eyes held so much rage, Xaden could feel the flames of anger engulfing him. “Did you manipulate Threshing?” Her voice was a dangerous whisper. “Did you tell Sgaeyl to bond me so we would be linked together?”

“Of course not!” He immediately responded. “This is the worst case scenario, I do not want to be linked to you.”

Genevieve’s expression narrowed, her body going rigid with tension. Her expression darkened as she took a step closer to Xaden, the sheen of her sweat glistening under the mage lights, but her focus was far from the physical exertion of training. “Worst case scenario?” She repeated, her words venomous. “So being bound to me is so repulsive that it’s your worst case scenario?”

Xaden ran a hand through his hair, his jaw clenching with tension as the weight of his own words sank in. 

“Gen, that’s not what I meant and you know it,” his voice softened, trying to ease the fire that radiated off of Genevieve. “This bond just complicates things—everything. You know that.”

She scoffed, eyes flicking between him and the rest of the room. The rebellion kids continued their sparring, laughter mingling with the sharp sound of fists hitting targets, completely unaware of the storm brewing between them. Violet had slowed her movements, however, casting a glance in their direction. It only fueled Genevieve’s resentment.

Genevieve’s fingers curled into fists, her knuckles whitening with the force of her anger. She took another deliberate step toward Xaden, her voice low and cutting, barely concealing the fury beneath the surface. “Complicates things for you, you mean.” Her eyes narrowed further, the tension in her muscles betraying her desire to his something—maybe even someone. “Because Gods forbid you have to deal with the consequences of anything outside your control.”

Xaden’s jaw tensed as he fought to keep his composure, but Genevieve’s words hit home. He’d always prided himself on control—of his dragon, his squad, his emotions—and now, it was unraveling. Genevieve, with her endless need for vengeance, her relentless drive, and now their unwanted bond, was the epicenter of that chaos. She was the reason. 

“I didn’t choose this,” he said firmly, his voice edged with frustration. “Do you think I wanted Tairn to bond with you? This is as much of a shock to me as it is to you.” His faze flickered away briefly, landing on Violet again, who had now fully paused her training to watch. That momentary distraction only inflamed Genevieve’s temper further. 

“You don’t get it, do you?” Her voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. She advanced again, her proximity forcing Xaden to meet her eyes. “This isn’t about the bond alone. This is about trust. This is about the fact that you kept this from me. That you decided what I should or shouldn’t know, like you always do.” 

Xaden’s face hardened. “I wasn’t trying to keep it from you. I was trying to figure out the details of it, how to handle it before—”

“Before what?” Genevieve’s voice rose now, drawing the attention of the others in the gym. Xaden’s group of friends in the training gym paused, sensing the rising tensions. “Before you thought it was convenient to share? Or were you hoping I wouldn’t notice the massive life-altering detail until it was too late for me to get angry?” 

Liam, sensing the explosive energy in the room, began walking toward them, his easy grin faltering, but Garrick held him back, shaking his head with an easy ‘no’. Imogen and Bodhi exchanged glances, but they stayed in place. Violet’s eyes lingered, her posture tense, though she hadn’t moved. 

Xaden stepped closer to Genevieve now, his voice lowered but charged with intensity. “I was waiting until I could tell you in a way that didn’t—”

“Make you look like the selfish bastard you are?” Genevieve interjected harshly, her words hitting with the force of a blow. Her body was shaking, but not from the fatigue. It was from the rage she’d been suppressing since Imogen told her news that Xaden should have said in private. Since she’d realized that Xaden, despite everything they’d shared, still decided to withhold something so vital. 

He flinched, a flash of regret crossing his face, but he didn’t retreat. “You know that’s not true,” he said quickly, but with conviction. “You know I never wanted this, but I didn’t want to make it worse either.”

”Worse?” Genevieve spat, her eyes blazing. “There is no ‘worse,’ Xaden. They’re dragons that bind our fate down to our own deaths and you let Imogen, someone who is practically a stranger, tell me? Instead of facing it and telling me you ran. You ran from me, from this, from everything.” 

For a moment, the silence between them was deafening. The others in the gym held their breaths, waiting for the explosion. Genevieve’s breaths came in ragged gasps as she glared at him, waiting for him to say something—anything—that would justify his actions. But Xaden remained still, his expression unreadable as he weighed his next words carefully. 

“I didn’t run,” he said finally, his voice like a storm on the horizon—low, dark, and gathering strength. “I’m here, aren’t I? Fighting for us, for whatever the hell this bond means.” 

Genevieve’s gaze hardened further, but something flickered beneath her fury. His words had struck a chord, and for a brief second, she felt the weight of his own burdens, his fears. But it wasn’t enough to douse the fire inside her. 

“And yet,” she whispered, stepping back, the space between them feeling like a chasm, “you keep pushing me away. Every time I get close, every time there’s a chance for something between us that isn’t just physical, you shut down. You keep your secrets, your plans, and now even this from me.”

The gym was still now, the air thick with unspoken tension. Everyone was watching, waiting for the next move. But Genevieve didn’t care. She was done playing his games, done being a pawn in a world of half-truths and manipulations. 

“Maybe being bound to you really is the worst-case scenario,” she said bitterly, her voice cold as ice. “Because I don’t think I can trust you anymore.”

The mage light above her blew out in a craze of sparks and glitter, and it felt like her skin was on fire with… magic. 

“Day one of dragon bonds,” Imogen started, awe laced into the sarcasm she normally carried. 

“And Genevieve is already channeling.” Violet finished. 

And with that, she turned on her heel, leaving the gym and a stunned silence in her wake, her anger radiating like heat off her skin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hello everyone! What’s up? I’ve currently written a few chapters ahead so I can keep updating twice a week for at least a few weeks, so hopefully this new schedule makes you all happy!

On another note, I just wanted to say thank you for all of your words of appreciation and your compliments, I seriously cannot believe you guys actually read what I write and for you to tell me how much you love it makes me so happy I want to cry.

Please, like and comment if you enjoyed and please let me know your thoughts! What’re your predictions on her signet? I want to know~

[danikamariewrites]

requesting a Xaden fic with MAJOR anger vibes but comfort at the end bc I need happiness!! maybe jealous trope or one goes to break up for safety matters idk!!

Jealous Boy

Xaden x reader

A/n: I made this jealous/protective Xaden with a hint of anger in there and of course it ends in fluff

Warnings: angst

Xaden wouldn’t describe himself as jealous or insecure when it came to his relationship with you. But he couldn’t help his emotions when he saw you with another boy in your year, Bryson.

He never wanted to step on your toes or be controlling. You’re your own person and he didn’t want to be the crazy boyfriend. But, his gut was telling him that Bryson wasn’t truly your friend.

As Xaden walked down the hall he saw you, Rhi, Liam, and Bryson on your way to lunch. You were all laughing and he smiled. Your laugh is infectious and it made him unbelievably happy.

His smile quickly turned into a frown as Bryson caressed your shoulder. He noticed the uncomfortable expression that flashed on your face as your eyes watched his hand. You shrug him off and the four of you go back to your conversation. Why didn’t you say something? He though to himself.

Sgaeyl clears her throat in his mind, “Don’t leave her with him Riorson. Go to her.” At her command Xaden’s pace quickens.

He shoves in next to you, pushing Bryson to walk behind the group. Xaden drapes his arm around you, “Hi sweetheart.” His the corner of his lip curves upward as you look up at him, relief washing over you. “Hi babe.” You wrap your arms around his middle and he kisses the top of your head.

Xaden throws Bryson a glare while your face is buried in his chest. It promises a painful death if he ever touches you again.

A little over a week later Xaden had some free time, so he set out to find you. You were in one of the study halls with Rhi and Liam, books spread out on the table in front of you. You were all relaxed in the worn leather armchairs until Liam sat up, spotting Bryson making his way over.

He sat on the arm of your chair. You clearly didn’t want him there as he made himself comfortable. Liam’s eyes lock with Xaden’s. Liam could tell Xaden was furious. He started beckoning Xaden over with slight head movements and his eyes, begging him to make Bryson leave.

Xaden had brought him up to Liam a few nights ago, asking why he wouldn’t leave you alone. Usually Liam keeps an eye on you for Xaden, protecting you when he couldn’t. “I tell him she’s with you all the time and to back off but he won’t listen to me.” Liam had said. Xaden didn’t like that answer. He made sure to try and be around more to scare Bryson off, but clearly his presence wasn’t enough for this asshole.

You notice Liam looking over your shoulder and turn to see who was behind you. As soon as you spot Xaden you smile. Thank Gods! You kept meaning to tell him about Bryson bothering you. You were fed up with being and nice and by the look on Xaden’s face you knew he was done too. Xaden gives you a tight nod as his eyes narrow on the back of Bryson’s head.

Bryson moves his hand from his lap to play with the ends of your ponytail. You freeze at the unwanted touch. Rhi let’s out a sigh through her teeth, “You better let go of her dude.” Before he can process what Rhi said to him Xaden grabbed him by the shoulder, ripping him off your armchair.

“I never. Want to see you around her again.” His scowl looked like a menacing dragons. If you didn’t know he was human, you’d expect him to start spitting fire at any moment. He pulled Bryson roughly by the front of his shirt, “Do you understand me? You ever bother her again you’re dead.”

Bryson looked like he was about to wet himself, finally being met with Xaden’s anger was terrifying. He nods like his head is about to fall off. He stumbles over his words and Xaden pushes him away. Bryson trips over his feet as he rushes out of the study hall.

You stand up, flinging your arms around Xaden. “Thank you.” He wraps an arm around your waist, bringing his other hand up to cradle the back of your head. “Are you ok?” “Yeah, I’m good.” Xaden sits in your chair, pulling you into his lap.

You rest your head on his shoulder, leaving a few pecks on the side of his neck. With Bryson gone everyone let’s out a sigh of relief. Your little group falls into easy conversation and you relax against Xaden. Happy he’s holding you, safe in his arms.

tags: @nyotamalfoy @auggiesolovey @bubybubsters @baybay123455 @msiecrane @aroseinvelaris

[mellohd]

EMH Marble Hornets AU!!

ok i know im not creative when it comes to aus but i thought itd be interesting to tell the story of MH through EMH’s story? IF YOU GUYS HAVE THOUGHTS OR QUESTIONS PLS LEAVE SOME IN MY INBOX!!! :-]( or even questions for the MH!EMH characters heh)1

Basically its just marble hornets told through EMH, for example instead of “tapes i found” story telling theyd open a youtube channel for tips and tricks on making your own movie while they make their own called Marble Hornets! EMH/MLA spoilersish up ahead

Heres the character correspondences:

Alex-> Jeff

Jay-> Vinnie

Tim-> Evan

Brian-> Michael!MLA

Jess-> Alex!EMH

Amy ->Jeffs GF(so sorry i forgot her name 😭)

“Masky”->Habit(which makes sense depending on the theories you go with for either series)

“Hoody”->Patrick (same as the last one)

Characters in cant figure out an association with:

Steph, Jess(Evans bestfriend) Shaun So they might just not have a place in this story idk

Since Mlanderson and EMH are in the same universe i thought id make Brian the Michael/Patrick of this story, except more involved. Instead of their being a shaun i think id like Brian to just go to MH crew, if ykwim. I did this cause the only other character i thought could fit Brian was Alex!EMH and I didnt like that.

My take on Masky is that hes just a more aware Tim, not a separate being (tho i do like to think of it that way for fun sometimes ha ha). Masky in my mind was in a battle against the operators control and was ultimately trying to help Jay. I think Masky would br Habit in this series cause of the theory that Habit is one of the first few iterations of Evan, thats why theyre similar and so compatible etc if you know the theory you know. That does mean that Tim isnt gonna act all ha ity, just more erratic i think, i havent gone tooooooo far into a characterization(or even a name) for Emh!MH Habit yet

“Hoody” I see as just brian and he was just disguising himself. in this au “Hoody” would be patrick. Let me explain,

Frim what i gathetef through my second watch of EMH and, my first of MLA , patrick is just Michael but remembers every single iteration, hes a similar being to Habit, thats why he has powers ig? Look i havent gotten too far into theories fir MLA the fandom is so dead i never see any 😭😭. I dont want to get to far into theories on other series anyways cause rhis is about my AU so ANYYYYWAYS i think brian would fit that its just brians story doesnt fit entirely with Michael, actually Tim would probably fit more now that i think about it. Oh god now im thinking of switching them again uhm wtv

I think the rest of the correspondences make sense if you think about it a bit. Jay as Vinnie makes sense to me because of boths compulsive need for answers even though its destructive to those around them. Jay wouldnt be as much as a villain in this like vinnie is (or maybe i havent decided muahaha). I also thought they fit cause they both do that weird thing where they constatly have to document everything.

I thought tim eould fit Evan just cause of the whole habit arc.

Alex as Jeff was more of a fill a role thing that eventually made sense to me. I did think of making him Evan and Tim Jeff, and im still thinking of doing this, but i thought the whole finding the gf arc would fit alex more. Alex would still be one of the villains i think. Like i said this would be marble hornets told through EMH lol. I might even switch it up and assign a habit type role to Alex instead and there be two patrick characters who knows!

As you can tell im still thinking this through so maybe mext post i make about this will be more solid. if youre interested to talk about this kore with me(obv my inbox) or i have a slenderverse discord i made with my friend heh tik tok smug emoji. come join if youre looking for more slenderverse friends(and if youre interested in darkharvest and mla especially cause i need more people to talk about that to 😭😭)

[kiwi-but-the-bird-not-the-fruit]

OMG HELLO HELLO okay so I saw your lil inbox saying “up for requests!” and so I’m assuming that your requests is open and if it isn’t I am SUPERR DUPER SORRY BOOKIE ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡

OKAY SO I was wondering if you would totally be up for Clawdeen x Fem! Humanoid Kitsune! Reader? LIKE FLUFFY HEADCANONS I FEEL LIKE THEY WOULD BE SOO CUTE TOGETHER ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ഒ

ANYWAYY IF YOU READ AND DECIDE TO DO RHIS THANK YOUU SM >.<‼️

Hello Pookie! Yes my request box is always open unless I specify before hand rn they are open as a archway to a temple lol

Okay love this prompt and x reader pairing

I've never done headcanons so bear with me here haha,i love kitsune and their lore so happy to make this

__________________________________________

Clawdeen wolf x fem! Kitsune! Reader (with humanoid features)

(H/t) hair type

(H/c) hair color

(E/c) eye color

(S/c) skin color

Fluff/relationship headcanons

I will make a little background how y'all got together and then the couple headcanons

Clawdeen never thought she would ever find someone that would catch her interest let alone have a crush but that all changed when she saw you.

Walking through the halls with her BFF Draculaura something had caught her eye so she naturally looked over to her left and then she fully focused on the ghoul passing by.

A beautiful kitsune with (h/t) (h/c) hair, beautiful (e/c) eyes that seem so gently yet wise radiant clear (s/c) the seemed soft to the touch, you were dressed in a short kimono dress with kneehigh heels with gold accents all around even on the accents of the flower patterns on your kimono, you gave her a smile and said "hi" as you walked passed her and her best friend Draculaura in the hallway

That was the moment clawdeen knew she had to get to know you and maybe become something more. She didn't know yet but she had this strong feeling in her chest and that she should at least try to find you again today.

And to her surprise later that day Clawdeen had actually found you once more 'okay you got this Clawdeen' she walked up to you and started up a conversation "Hey i wanted to say i love your outfit its so fierce" clawdeen pushed her bangs out the way as she looked at you with a toothy smile.

You look at the ghoul in front of you happily "thank you! I love your skirt, the patterns are so clawsome" the looked at each other a little buzz in the air "mind if I sit down?" Clawdeen asked you "not at all please I'd love some company, oh and I'm [Name] what's yours?" [Name] extended her hand to the ghoul sitting across from her at the outdoor table, "Clawdeen, nice to meet you" [Name] nodded saying "nice to meet you too Clawdeen"

The two ended up chatting about fashion and their interests and then two months into knowing each other Clawdeen had asked [Name] out with chocolates and flowers which made the ghoul swoon and ran into the wolf's arm kissing her cheek and exclaimed "yes yes yes" as her fluffy tails wagged side to side excitedly

_________________________________________

Now the headcanon!

-clawdeen loves holding you by the waist as she talks to you in any place and time she feels so giddy holding you gently with one arm the warmth radiating from you both like a personal heater.

-whenever she's at your house she plays with your two tails and she likes to brush them and the blush on your cheeks when she puts her face in the softness of your fur motivates her to do it every time she comes over.

-you two are very cuddly behind closed doors and she's actually the little spoon because she likes to feel the soft purrs on her back as you hold her close by her middle.

(I'm gonna pretend you can purr hehe)

-Clawdeen loves it when you wear something of hers, since she's a wolf she liked the idea that this is one of her ways to mark you as hers and that no one will try to get with you,if someone tries to get with you they are screwed

-you also like when she wears your clothes just like Clawdeen you think that your scent on her will make idiots leave her alone before YOU tear them a new one.

- kissing is her favorite,the way your lips and her's fit so well with yours,the smell of your fruit flavor lip gloss and hers that mix together to make a new color when you part ways, ughh yes you should kiss her all the time.

-she really likes your human form you look so cute and the way you get slightly shorter than your monster form is actually too adorable

-Clawdeen will often make you two matching outfits, some are suits or dresses whichever you want to match with she's down to do anything for her muse.

-speaking of muses you are hers she's always making outfits inspired by you and your background every pattern every style it always seems she has you in mind throughout the process

-dates are going to the mall, parks, the boovies and just hanging out. Who knows maybe you'll take her to a parking lot and chill with some snacks and music playing (a make out will happen she can't help it you're just so pretty!!)

-Did I mention Clawdeen loves to pet your fluffy ears? Oh and she loves it when you do it to her too, just gently caress them with your soft hand and she's melting

-she spoils you but not in a buying you expensive things, no she remembers the candy's and chips you like and gives you a cute basket of them every few months and since the candy you like isn't expensive she's just buying you one and brings it to school for you to munch on in class.

-but on occasions like your birthday, anniversary valentines day and Christmas she'll get you a specific jewelry for the both of you to adorn, she'll make a romantic dinner and after it she'll hand you the box smilling wide and proud she got her muse something so precious and beautiful just like you..well the jewle almost matches your beauty but your prettier

-the two of you definitely have fashion shows in your room that end up becoming karaoke and just jumping up and down singing your heart out and dancing to a slow romantic holding you close and giving you neck kisses that make you giggle in delight.

-sometimes you'll turn into a fox and lay on her lap just for the fun of it and she pets you while she sketches in her sketch book with a content smile.

__________________________________________

That's all I got for now, thanks for the request I made this rather quickly is surprised with myself (^v^)

And I genuinely don't know if this is the right way to do headcanon. Sorry if it's not correct.

[hugs2doie]

say it, ditto.

pairing: non!idol!jisung x reader

genre: fluff

warnings: mentions of kissing but not an actual describing scene.

nini’s notes: wohoo another jwi drabble, rhanks to the anon who requested rhis :3

resting his head on your shoulder attempting to sleep when the lesson got too boring, knowing that you’d put your bag on your desk so the teacher won’t notice him, it’s a friends thing to do, sure.

sharing an small umbrella, clinging onto him so you wouldn’t get wet and him wrapping an arm around you is just your friend taking care of you, of course.

hands brushing against while walking together, cuddling with you on your couch, sharing his lunch with you, feeding and taking care of you when you needed it, giving you heart eyes: those were things only friends did, right?

staring at your lips, just normal friends activities, yeah?

you have known jisung ever since you were young, you knew him way too well, and you also knew that he could barely hide anything from you.

but sometimes your friendship relationship would get complicated. he gave you a smile today, yes, but did he like you the same way you liked him?

you had enough with this back-and-fourth thing; with seasons passing and you acting like lovers, but never labeling anything or even talking about it, that your other friends were confused too, it was like a damn riddle and it was like trying to find the exit in a huge maze.

which is why you gathered the courage to ask him something today.

“sung,” you called him as you played with his hair, his head currently on your lap as he was watching a movie with you. well, watching might not be the word since he was playing with his phone since apparently the movie was “too boring” for him.

to be honest, the movie wasn’t even interesting. it was about two friends liking each other, but even though they knew it, they wouldn’t confess.

“that’s stupid,” you thought to yourself, even though the plot was sounding oddly familiar.

“hm?” he said glancing up at you and reaching to the table to put his phone down before going back to resting his head on your lap.

“do you want somebody, ji?” you asked, eyes focusing on the movie playing in front of you, even though your mind wasn’t focusing on that, you just couldn’t bring yourself to look at jisung.

he bit his lip and looked away for a second. “i do.” he answered after a little while, now looking up at you again and giving you those big soft eyes, smiling when he realised you had stopped playing with his hair.

your eyes finally found his, and of course, he already looking at you.

the voices of the background characters on the movie were now starting to get fainted, the only sound jisung could hear was his jacket getting grabbed by you to pull him in and lean down to kiss him.

you got nothing to lose, after all.

[concussed-to-pieces]

Arbiter's Solstice; Part Two

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village

Pairing: Eventual Karl Heisenberg/AFAB!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

Summary: You had never seen a Soldat in the light before, or as much light as this. It was human-shaped but it did not look…correct. You knew you made a noise, some startled sound, and the thing turned.

A/N: A little Black Friday special. Enjoy!

Tag List: @stargazerofgoldenwords @cookiethewriter @crookedmoonsaultpunk @colesterstrudel @spoopyredacted @velvet-paradox @kotall-ohh @katreneebug @missjasmine98 @sunflowers-and-swear-words @savage-rhi @nova-ivy541 @xyaswrlldd @the-videodame @luvley-shadow @akashiiiiii @spook0 @leediavhs @wysterias-not-so-secret-diary @alldevilsmaycry @writtennotsaid @mulcivert @cedarsmokesrandoms @smallestsnarkestgirl @buttons-beads-lace @vodkafolie @theplagueworm @holydreamerpastadragon @story-chaotic-brain @ohlookapan @topgirl17

[If you were tagged in error, please let me know and I’ll remove you!] 

Part One: Chosen

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains gore, mentions of death, canon-typical violence and extreme depictions of mental and physical duress. Stay safe!]

Your head was throbbing, but you still forced your eyes open after several moments of waiting for the spinning to subside. White cloth met your eyes, dim, flickering light filtering through it. You tried to move, only to discover that your arms and legs appeared to be secured somehow. 

Panic thrummed beneath your ribs. The sound of a heavy metal door being firmly closed echoed distantly; you had no idea how far away it might have been. Soon enough, however, footsteps made their way towards you. Confident strides, though not slow or heavy enough to be the Lady's. 

Heisenberg?

You twitched when a firm hand caught your wrist, whoever it was silently taking your pulse. “I know you're awake.” He finally said. “Can you hear me?”

Karl. You nodded, gasping in pain when a headache sprang to life. 

“Easy, easy, don't move. I did what I could for you. Can you open your eyes under the wraps? Tried not to cover them but-” You felt him shrug. “-aesthetics are not ever going to be my concern when dealing with head wounds.”

“What happened?” You could barely hear your own voice, it was so feeble. 

“You got your head split open.” 

“Mmhm, remember that.” You paused, “where is the Lady Dimitrescu?”

“Dead.” 

Your eyes widened behind the wrappings, then filled with tears. “What…what will happen to me now?”

Fingers plucked at the bandages on the side of your head, catching an edge and slowly unwinding the fabric until you could see again. Your head ached anew at the unshielded light of several candles in the room, and the grave expression on Heisenberg's face (riddled with unfamiliar scars) did little to assuage your concerns. 

“What will happen to me?” You asked again, staring up at him helplessly. “I…I don't have anywhere to go, if not House Dimitrescu.”

“No family?” Karl's voice was strangely hoarse when he asked, his hands busily working to apply a fresh dressing to the wound on the side of your head. 

“No one.” 

The man closed his eyes, turning away. “Got it.”

“Lord Heisen-” Karl's head jerked up and he inhaled sharply, the motion startling you enough to make your already-weak voice peter out. His gaze was as intense as ever, but you found it familiar, almost comforting. 

Almost.

“I need you to rest.” The lord said stiffly. “You're still exhausted. You need time to heal.” His fingers grazed your wrist, loosening whatever had restrained you.

“I'm aware.” You retorted, getting him to crack a wan smile. Then, “thank you.” 

Karl's brow furrowed, the man obviously confused. “Rest.” He finally grunted. “We'll reevaluate how thankful you are once you see your stitches.”

“Is it bad?”

Heisenberg groaned, smoothing a palm down your forehead to usher your eyes closed. “Sleep, damn it.”

…

Your recovery was slower than you'd like. After the beating you had taken from both Lord Moreau and Lady Dimitrescu, you knew you were lucky to be alive. Even if you weren't overly mobile at the moment, you were still grateful. What you could gather from Heisenberg's sparse conversations about the incident led you to believe that you were in a very bad state when you had been…recovered.

“I did what I could.”

You couldn't complain, all things considered. It was odd having someone else take care of you, though. Your food was brought while you were asleep; aside from Karl you saw no living thing. But you could hear them in the halls around your room. Shuffling footsteps, metal banging and scraping, the occasional low groan. 

“Are there still Soldats?” You asked one day. From what you could gather, your ‘quarters’ were simply a corner of Karl's workshop that he had partitioned off, the man always laboring over some piece of machinery on an enormous workbench when he was present. 

Karl stiffened from his place at his bench, the muscles in his neck visibly cording when he did so. “Yes.” 

“Are they safe?”

The lord lolled his head back, leaning against the bench with a put-on, languid air. “Why, got a little cabin fever, sweetheart?”

“Definitely not!” You replied hastily, “I can still barely manage to sit up! I was just curious-”

“I know you can hear them. I'm sorry.” He actually looked apologetic for a moment. “Whatever Soldats and Haulers that are left are so fucking old and they were braindead from the start, so I can't exactly ask them to be quieter.”

“I'm sorry, I didn't realize.”

Karl waved you off. “You're allowed to ask questions, don't sweat it.” He turned back to his work, but then swiveled to face you once more. “Do you…want to try to walk soon?” He offered, his tone flat once more, almost formal. “May help speed the healing process if you can…uh, move.”

“What would you recommend?” Karl snorted in response to your question, the man stalking over to your pallet and shifting the blanket off your legs. You shivered without meaning to as the chill air of your surroundings hit your legs and Heisenberg flinched, eyes darting to your own. “Oh, it's just a little cold.” You explained, trying for a smile. “I'll be fine!” 

Karl stared down at his hands for a moment, then cupped them to heat them with his breath. “Let me know if they're still too cold.” He muttered, reaching for your left leg. 

You subtly braced for his touch and you were stunned when his fingers were hot, your calf resting in one broad palm while his other hand ran up and down your shin. 

“Let's bend your knee, alright?” Karl suggested after several seconds of silence. “Nice and slow.”

Your muscles ached when he began to move your leg, but you did your best to keep a straight face over it. It wouldn't do you any good to whine about this, you knew you were lucky to even have your severely-limited range of motion. Most of your bruises and lacerations had healed over, save for one long wound that had needed stitches on the outside of your left thigh.

“Alright?” Heisenberg asked, his voice rasping. You nodded, keeping your lips pressed together tightly. The lord exhaled, continuing to bend your knee slowly. “Good, good. Looks like your range of motion was maintained.” He then lowered your leg and unfortunately you couldn't stop the whimper when the action pulled at your stitches. Karl flinched again at the noise, glancing up at you. “Where?” 

“Just the stitches, I'm fine.” You managed to say through your teeth. “Other leg?”

“If you need to-”

“Other leg?” You interrupted him, the pain making you eager to get this over with. 

“You're not some fuckin’ machine, sweetheart.” Lord Heisenberg snapped, standing up. For a heart-stopping moment, you were unsure as to what he might do. It was an immense relief when he simply took a step over your pallet and crouched down on your right side. The man took a short eternity to warm your muscles up on that side, even making the effort to rotate your knee outward slightly to stretch your unmarred thigh. “Nice and slow,” he breathed, his touch impossibly gentle. 

You had seen his ‘siblings’ tear people limb from limb, you knew just how much strength had to lurk in his body.

He killed the Lady, and…and Mother Miranda.

He had effectively ended whatever life you'd had before last year's solstice. Admittedly it wasn't much of a life, scurrying around trying to avoid incurring the Lady's wrath. It hadn't even been safe, but it was what you knew. It was frightening to not have any sort of routine.

This or that.

“Is there…” You swallowed, finding your mouth oddly dry. “Is there anything I can do to repay you for your kindness, Lord Heisenberg?” Karl stared up at you, his hand stilling on your shin. His expression was remarkably unguarded, almost childlike in its lack of guile. He was…surprised. You raised your eyebrows. “What? I know my skills may not be overly…impressive to someone like you, but I can set a table, cook and clean-”

“I don't have a table.” Karl interrupted bluntly. “And no one cleans this shithole.”

“Cooking, then?” You knew you sounded desperate, but his flat affect was rapidly siphoning off your vague hope of being useful to him. 

Heisenberg raked a hand through his hair, looking more confused now. “What would you need to do that, exactly? I don't have…there's not a kitchen in here.” He said awkwardly. You abruptly recalled that none of the food brought for you had ever been warm, or even cooked. It had been apples, cheese, various nuts... “Might be able to wire you up some kind of hotplate?”

You paused, uncertain if you had just insulted him by reminding him of his lack of facilities. “What's a hotplate?”

“Really small stove. One pot, that sort of thing.” 

“How do you cook if you don't have a stove?”

“I didn't need to cook.”

“Are you…do you only eat vegetables?”

His roaring laughter echoed off the walls, Karl wheezing for breath in between his bouts of mirth. “No, sweetheart, I ain't a vegetarian.” He finally choked out, still chuckling. “I've got a parasite in my body, just like the rest of those idiots. I can eat damn near anything, cooked or otherwise, as you've seen.” He made a grand, sweeping gesture to take in the moldering structure around you. “And I was too busy to cook while building my army.”

“Oh, I'm sorry.” You apologized automatically, your brain stuck on one word. Parasite. Parasite. Parasite. He had what inside of him?! “Would you prefer to eat cooked food?”

He looked uncertain. “I mean–I never really thought about it. Easier to digest, I guess.” Karl suddenly narrowed his eyes. “Wait, no. You're not doing anything for me. I owe you my fucking freedom.”

You blinked. “What?”

“You.” Heisenberg jabbed a finger at you. “You helped me. For no reason at all! You defied your master, defied that overgrown bitch, for me.” 

“W-Well, yes, but–”

“No buts.” Heisenberg snarled, seizing the bedding near your side. He stared at you intently. “You were terrified of her. She was a monster.” 

“To me, yes.” You admitted softly. “I never knew her as anything else.”

The man warned, “but I'm also a monster,” his tone bleak. “A worse one than her, all things considered.”

“You have not been cruel to me.” Karl scoffed at that, rolling his eyes. You wondered if he even recalled the first time you had said that to him, insisting, “you haven't! And you've had ample opportunity to do so, I've been helpless in bed for days.” 

“I'm not so much of a bastard that I would repay your kindness with violence.” Heisenberg seemed to be attempting some sort of levity, his head tilted to the side. “Besides, I worked pretty hard to stitch you back up. Be a shame for all that to go to waste.”

“I appreciate that.” You smiled up at him. “I should be able to cook for you in a few more days, once I'm steady on my feet.”

“You cook for you. If there's leftovers, fine,” Karl retorted. “But you don't work for me, got it? You can leave whenever you want.”

Distress sent a pang down your spine. “Do you wish for me to leave? I'm sorry, have I been imposi-”

“No,” Karl interjected sharply. “Christ, that's not what I'm saying. You're not in any position to move right now. I'm saying if you want to leave once you're ambulatory, I'm not keeping you here.”

You hesitated. This was all very confusing. “I'm sorry, I don't…I don't have anywhere else to go, Lord Heisenberg.”

“Then you can stay until you do.” He stomped back to the workbench, your conversation evidently over.

…

“Hotplate, hotplate…” Karl muttered to himself as he sifted through the loose scrap, thoroughly irritated. How hard could it be to make one, anyway? He recalled the enormous, wood-fed cooktop in House Dimitrescu's kitchen with more than a small amount of envy. That was a goddamn stove, with an oven. 

He paused, mentally going over the makeup of said stove. Probably cast iron…I'd need to find a spot for the chimney. Not exactly like the big bitch has any need for her fancy stove now, right?

The idea of pilfering the giant stove from the wreckage of Castle Dimitrescu grew on him immediately, and soon enough Karl was making his way across the muddy grounds of the village. 

The rest of the residents were still in disarray after the upheaval Heisenberg had inflicted, most of them seemingly expecting him to be the one to take the reins. Ha! No such luck, Heisenberg thought bitterly. Let Donna figure it out if they want a leader so damned bad. Her and her freaky doll.

As far as he was concerned, the village could rot with Alcina, Moreau and Miranda. 

The castle still managed to loom even while half-destroyed, one lone parapet stretching to the sky was all that remained wholly intact. The rest of the structure had been decimated by Dimitrescu's transformation and their subsequent battle, the faux siblings so intent on destroying one another that not a care had been given to whether the castle came down around their ears in the process. 

At least, not until after Karl had triumphed. Then he cared, the heavily-battered former lord retracing his steps through the rubble until he finally managed to locate your unconscious form. Through some miracle you had been sheltered from the majority of the destruction when a section of the chamber’s ceiling had broken loose and fallen onto the altar, shielding you from further harm. Moreau, unluckily (or perhaps luckily), was not graced with the same fate. If Alcina dropping him squarely on his head hadn't outright ended him, the simpering, sniveling little shit was crushed beneath the collapsed spiral staircase. And good riddance to him.

Heisenberg shook his head. There was no point in recalling that, he needed to find the damn stove. 

…

“Oh.” You said weakly.

The large, cursive D emblazoned on the front of the hulking stove recalled to you several instances of being thrown around in the kitchen by an extremely-irate Lady Dimitrescu. Oblivious to your plight, Karl asked, “Where do you want it?”, the man hefting the massive appliance to rest on one shoulder. It was an impressive display of his strength, but also a grim reminder that whatever he was, it certainly wasn't human. 

You swallowed hard. Heisenberg stood there for another moment. “My lord,” you began, your voice cracking. “Could I ask for a favor?”

“Anything. It's yours.”

Reeling from the speed and ease of his reply, you blurted out, “could you take the letter off the front of it?”

“Ah.” You watched as Karl's jaw suddenly went tight. “I saw that. On your back.” There was a sharp, metallic pang! and the front of the oven door was as smooth as glass. Perhaps it had been welded shoddily? “Better?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice. He must have seen the marks from the stove's ornamentation while you were unconscious, you usually took great care to hide them. 

“I can run the stove pipe essentially anywhere in here, but my forge tends to be hot as Hades when it's actually functional.” Heisenberg said evenly. “I also don't know whether the cold will affect you in the winter. I don't feel it.” He patted his abdomen absently with his free hand. 

“Where would you recommend, then?”

Karl grunted, placing the stove down and then swearing under his breath when four of the six legs on it broke through the floor, leaving it to teeter unevenly. “Stupid goddamn--out of my floor.” He growled, gesturing with a hand. The range, much to your bewilderment, began to float a few inches off the beleaguered floor. “So it looks like I'll be reinforcing wherever I need to put this.” 

“What are you doing?” You questioned sharply, eyes wide in confusion.

Karl, his back to you while he rummaged through a crumbling bookshelf, paused and glanced your way. “Looking for my factory blueprints so you can decide where the hell I'm putting this?”

“Not that, I mean the--” You made a few panicky noises, pointing at the hovering oven. 

The man hesitated, tilting his head. “Are you…so you don't know.”

“Know what?”

“What the hell was in those fucking histories?” He grumbled, waving a hand at the huge hammer mounted on the wall over his workbench. “How do you think I killed Alcina?”

“I…” you hesitated. “I don't know. I thought maybe you knew of some kind of…weakness she had?” 

The hammer came flying off its mount and Karl caught it with ease. “No.” He replied grimly, palming the massive weapon. “I put every piece of metal in that stupid castle through her body, pinned her to the ground and beat her to death.” 

Oh. You stared up at him, the breath stolen out of your chest. 

Lord Heisenberg shook himself bodily, then tossed the hammer back to its mount. “Sorry. It's uh…I guess it's not your fault for not knowing what I do.” He apologized, his voice strained. “Doesn't sound like you've had a stellar education when it comes to me.” He offered you a feeble smirk. “You did lend me a hand though, giving her the poke you did with the dagger.” 

“I'm relatively certain she barely felt that.” You said, though as the hazy memory returned to you, you continued, “but she screamed when I did it.”

“That knife had so many toxins imbued into it, one wrong move during the solstice ritual and she might have offed herself instead.” Heisenberg's laugh was humorless. “Save me the damn trouble.” He tugged a small crate over next to your pallet, spreading the worm-eaten blueprint out on the surface. “Now, where do you want the stove?”

You got the feeling that he was trying to change the subject, but you obligingly shifted your weight forward to try and make sense of the warren you were presented with. “I'm also going to need cooking implements, like pots, pans…oh, and food of course!”

…

It wasn't such a bad life, you reasoned. Certainly better than how your life had been with the Lady Dimitrescu, though that bar wasn't exactly high. Lord Heisenberg was amicable enough, if a bit stiff and distant. You supposed that was to be expected. He was, after all, one of the lords of the village. Certain behaviors could not be adjusted so simply.

He only put his hands on you in a clinical manner, for which you were immensely grateful, and he had yet to shout at you, though he had the occasional frustrated outburst at his workbench. You would dare to say most days it was almost peaceful.

The afternoon you were shepherded from the bowels of his factory to emerge into the sunlight felt nearly surreal, like you had been sleepwalking, like your time serving House Dimitrescu had been nothing but a bad dream. 

Castle Dimitrescu no longer overshadowed the village with its dour mass, instead sporting nothing but a forlorn tower teetering high above the rubble it had collapsed into. Seeing the destruction, even at this distance, was enough to stun you. You had assumed that Lord Heisenberg exaggerated a bit for your benefit, but looking at it now you weren't so sure.

Karl cleared his throat from his spot alongside you. “The Duke will be annoyed if I'm late.” 

Between the strange and distinct personalities of the four lords (former or otherwise), one would assume that a simple merchant wouldn't stand out overmuch. An incorrect assumption, of course, but a common one. 

For one, the Duke was enormous, his bulky and ponderous frame often ensconced in a small horse-drawn wagon. However, for all his mass he didn't seem to have any trouble actually getting around. If anything, he would set up shop in the strangest places.

The merchant sold items from beyond the village, and was always permitted to come and go as he pleased. Indeed, you imagined anyone would be hard-pressed to impose any sort of restrictions on the man, as his eternal joviality and good nature couldn't help but to heavily imply a fair amount of sway in the local economy. It would be unwise to dissuade such a man from returning to the village, you were fairly sure.

“What are you looking for in his inventory?” You queried, adjusting the padding for the crutch Lord Heisenberg had graciously crafted for you. 

“Information about the outside, mainly.” The lord squared his shoulders, then set off in what seemed to be a random direction. You followed along behind, noticing that after a moment he slowed his pace, long strides shortening to accommodate your lacking speed. “May see what supplies he has, as well.” He mused. “It'll depend on his cooperation.”

“What do you ask him about…well, the outside world?” You had never devoted much thought to that world, bleakly certain in the knowledge that you would not be leaving the village in your lifetime. To be fair, you hardly had the time to think about anything outside of your duties for most of your life. 

“Anything and everything. Hopefully he'll have a current newspaper he's willing to part with for the right price.” The two of you had been angling for a stand of spindly rowan trees just above the valley's edge. As you came up level with the rise, you realized their branches were doing a poor job at concealing the familiar cart of the Duke. The dark horse responsible for hauling said cart had been picketed off beneath the shade of a few more trees, grazing peacefully while you and Lord Heisenberg approached.

“Ah, and here is the man of the hour.” The Duke greeted Karl magnanimously from the bench of his cart, his eyes flicking curiously to you and then back to the Lord. “I see you’ve brought an…assistant. Quite capable too, all things considered.” The large man gave you an appraising look. “Regrettably, my dear, you may need more than a poisoned dagger to put me into the ground, but I appreciated the display all the same. Such a thrill!”

“Enough.” Karl snapped, his brows furrowed. “You know damn well I don't care about your omnipresent bullshit.”

“Come now, is that any way to speak to your old friend?” The Duke feigned hurt, pressing a hand to his broad chest. “My dear Lord Heisenberg, it has been a short eternity since last we did business!”

“I can come back later.” Karl's lips twitched. “I'd have you strung up if you weren't so goddamn helpful.”

The Duke's laughter washed over you and Lord Heisenberg finally cracked a smile. Evidently this was just how they spoke to one another? It all seemed a bit…chilling. “It is good to see you out of your cell, my lord.” The Duke said warmly, clasping Karl's hand in his own and pressing a worn packet of cheroots into his palm. “Your favorite brand, as I'm sure you recall.”

“Gods, how did you–nevermind, I don't want to know.” Karl tore open the packaging, quickly accepting the proffered light from the large merchant. 

“And for you, my dear?” The Duke beckoned you closer while Karl worked to light his cigar. “Perhaps some food staples, or an exotic trinket from not-so-distant lands?”

“Oh, I don't have-”

“Give them whatever they want.” Heisenberg interrupted you, white smoke issuing from his mouth as he spoke. “Now's your chance, sweetheart, find something you wanna’ eat.” You gaped at him, stunned. For all his talk beforehand, clearly Karl wasn't as concerned about expedience as he had tried to imply beforehand. If anything, he looked a bit like a man about to settle in for a good jaw outside a general store. 

The Duke was quite thrilled at the prospect of showing off his wares and you had a multitude of meats, cheeses and other staples slowly paraded in front of you as he carried on a conversation with Lord Heisenberg. The choices seemed nearly endless and while you knew Heisenberg had told you to get what you wanted, you also wanted to be mindful of whatever expense you might incur. Mutton would be the most cost effective of course, maybe followed with some sausage? The Duke did have flour and sugar as well, but those seemed in shorter supply. Evidently you'd need to adjust to a different diet if you hoped to get any sort of length out of the common staples. 

“Any news on Donna?” Heisenberg queried nonchalantly as the Duke wrapped your chosen meats in waxed paper for transport.

“She's settled into her role with a fair amount of trepidation, but I am confident she will thrive. It remains to be seen whether the rest of the village will fall in line.” The Duke gave Karl a thoughtful look. “Are you certain you don't wish to…?”

“No. The place can burn for all I care.”

The Duke inclined his head, his contemplative gaze shifting to you once more. When next he spoke, however, he was still addressing Lord Heisenberg. “I don't suppose you'll be needing prophylactics, my lord?”

Heisenberg's overgrown canines abruptly crushed through the cigar, the stub of which he spat vaguely in the Duke's direction. This prompted the bulky merchant to roar with good-natured laughter, nearly toppling himself off the cart bench while Karl silently glowered at him. 

After several uncomfortable seconds had passed, Karl finally stated, “We're leaving,” the lord seizing you by the arm and hoisting you up onto his shoulder, crutch, groceries and all. The Duke tossed a rolled-up newspaper to him as if in farewell, which Heisenberg easily caught and stuffed into his bag. 

“May your chosen path bring you happiness.” The Duke called, blue eyes twinkling with some kind of secret joke. Heisenberg fished around in his satchel for a moment, finally withdrawing a messily-wrapped parcel. He proceeded to whip it at the Duke's head, which only made the large man laugh even harder.

Judging from Lord Heisenberg's reaction you weren't overly certain you wanted to know the punchline, even if you had no idea what a prophylactic was.

…

Karl spent the following few days slamming things around uselessly on his workbench or smelting at his forge, attempting to tire himself out before eventually coming back to rest and read his precious newspaper by the light of an electric lamp at his beleaguered bench. 

Usually you were asleep by the time he returned from the manufacturing area, but you would always leave him a carefully-covered plate of food to enjoy. As your strength returned, you took to foraging in the surrounding area for berries, evidently willing to battle the local wildlife for a few precious morsels of vibrant fruit. Karl mutely appreciated the scraps you could acquire, the man so used to surviving off of a gray amalgamation  that anything above it was a culinary delight. As much as he didn't want to give her any credit, clearly Alcina hadn't tolerated you being anything less than a decently-competent kitchen aide. 

Tonight's dinner was a few slices of pork with some kind of fruit…sauce, accompanied by a small loaf of bread. 

Karl absently chewed on a piece of the pork, his eyes roving to the partition that separated your (his originally, not that it mattered) sleeping area from the rest of the room. You must sleep like the dead, because nothing ever seemed to rouse you once you tucked yourself in for the night. It's either that or you were still weaker than he had anticipated, and just doing a little scavenging and cooking wore you out entirely.

Karl grimaced, tearing off a bit of the roll and popping it into his mouth. To be fair (and honest) he had never given human recovery time much thought. Your appendages were attached, extremities operational…you had higher brain function, for God's sake. 

It had never mattered. 

Karl shook his head, disgusted. It wasn't something he had ever concerned himself with before, he would be damned if he started now.

Damned regardless, really.

He shuffled his stool back a step from his bench, reaching into the scrap bucket for a large rag. Despite the area's somewhat-lacking agricultural endeavors, it seemed that there was still a budding market for wagon kingpins and singletrees. Karl had never fancied himself much of a wainwright, but pieces were easy to make and he trusted the Duke to put them into the right hands. To supplement the more specialized pieces, the lord would also make groups of five or so hammers, maybe screwdrivers or wrenches. The old witch's mold tore through most materials, but Karl always ensured that his tools were heated to a temperature so vicious that not even the Black God’s ingrained spores could survive.

After he had wrapped the quintet of screwdrivers and kingpins, he carefully set them aside and picked up a fresh rag.

Motion out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and the lord lashed out, iron fingers seizing hold of an arm. You gasped, losing your grip on his dirty plate. The item struck the side of the bench with a resounding crash!, sending shards of ceramic tumbling to the floor.

Karl hesitated, desperately trying to will his hand to release your arm before he bruised you (or snapped your arm off at the elbow). He was just so used to-

“I apologize for startling you, my lord.” Your voice wavered slightly, but other than that you seemed remarkably calm. Alcina. “I was unable to sleep, I…I wanted to make myself useful.”

Finally, Heisenberg managed to peel his fingers off your arm, the muscles in his hand spasming wildly. “Of course.” He murmured blithely, like his reaction had been the most normal thing in the world. “Thanks for that, sweetheart.”

The side of his mouth ticked up slightly when you sputtered something and began to look flustered. He really ought to get this…whatever it was under control. It wasn't practical for him to be constantly bemused by every little turn of your expression. Soon enough that would lead to him just–doing things to watch how you behaved, doing specific things that he knew would give the reaction he wanted. As intriguing as that sounded, the lord could feel his mood souring. 

“Get some rest.” He ordered you, his tone curt. “I'll clean that up.”

“I–yes, Lord Heisenberg.” You acquiesced even though you clearly didn't want to, your eyes glued to the floor. 

Heisenberg's brow furrowed. Christ, he did not like this feeling, whatever the hell it was. 

…

“My dear! I see you've been allowed to roam the countryside today. Could I tempt you with a crystal figurine?”

You shook your head, smiling up at the Duke. “No sir, I was wondering if you had any more lamp wicks, or perhaps some twine.” You rummaged around in the satchel Heisenberg had generously allowed you to borrow for your errands, searching for the list he had scrawled in a messy hand. “My lord has requested another current newspaper. And...” You paused, squinting at the letters. “Cam…camembert cheese?”

“Always work with that man!” The Duke complained good-naturedly, “I understand, business is business, but even so. He's moving nearly quick enough to outpace my sales! Clearly he cares nothing for artificial scarcity or supply and demand.” The look he gave you made it seem like you were supposed to agree, so you gamely nodded. Truthfully you had no idea what he was talking about, but that was a common occurrence in the life you had led. The Lady always spoke of grand plans, her machinations seeming leaps and bounds above your comprehension.

All that being said, you were a bit curious, attempting to slyly broach the subject moments later while the Duke tied a fresh layer of cheesecloth securely around a somewhat-battered wheel of cheese. “Lord Heisenberg has personal dealings with you, then? I imagine they must be much more important than what he sends me to do.” Had you been more familiar with the corpulent merchant, you might have picked up on the mischievous little snort he let out.

“Our dear lord is the only one keeping the village running, my child.” The man chuckled, giving the wheel one final pat and then passing it to you. “What on earth do you think he's been up to in that factory? He is manufacturing.” 

Midway through depositing the cheese into your satchel, his words caught up with you. You paused, furrowing your brow as you attempted to recall what you had seen Lord Heisenberg working on. “He's absent by the time I wake up, and most evenings I'm already asleep when he returns.” You realized aloud.

“Ah.” The Duke leaned back, folding his hands over his generous stomach. “So you don't know, then. The Lord Heisenberg is working, you see, always working. The Iron Horse, tireless and unfeeling, unaffected by his lengthy imprisonment.” He arched a conspiratorial brow. “Or so he would have us all believe.”

You suddenly felt as though you had overstepped, your fingers nervously gripping down on the threadbare strap of the satchel while you bid the Duke a hasty farewell. 

The merchant inclined his head graciously, offering you a slow smile.

…

“‘I went into town today, saw some people with familiar tools’.” You shook your head at yourself, staring down at the soup on the stovetop. “He wouldn't believe that! I should just be honest. The Lady said to be honest-”

“You don't work for that Amazonian bitch anymore.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin, whirling to face Lord Heisenberg. “My lord! Forgive me, I didn't hear you approach.” 

Karl grunted, reaching for your shoulder. You barely resisted the urge to squeeze your eyes shut, bracing yourself for whatever might come.

The strap of your large apron had slid down your shoulder, and Karl's fingers brushed your shirt when he tugged the fabric back up. “I don't care if you're honest to me or not.” His voice was low and harsh. “Honesty born of fear isn't something I'm interested in.” 

“O-Of course, my lord.” You quickly agreed, looking everywhere but his face as you attempted to change the subject. “Are you hungry? You've returned early tonight!”

There was a long pause. “...I think so.” Heisenberg sounded slightly baffled (if such a person could ever be baffled). “It smelled good, so I clocked out early.”

You replied brightly, “I'm glad you think so! It's not quite done yet, but the biscuits are r–” The pan of biscuits that had been cooling on the stovetop was suddenly in Karl's hand. The lord jammed an entire biscuit into his mouth and you blinked, stunned. 

“Did you get the cheese?” Karl asked once he'd swallowed, his eyes lighting up when you nodded. “Duke's good for something, I guess. Paper?”

“On your bench, as always.” 

For that, you received a clap on the shoulder and a devastating smile, the man happily taking himself (and the tray of biscuits) to the workbench.

You had never seen him in such good spirits. It was…entrancing, in a way. You stirred the soup absently, thoughts in a tangle. 

…

Truth be told, you ought to have been an expert at balancing a bowl. To your credit, however, the last time you'd had to do it your path had at least been illuminated and free of debris. Now you had the added excitement of toting an old railway lantern in one hand and cradling the bowl in the crook of your elbow. 

You had been so sure of yourself earlier in the day! If Lord Heisenberg doesn't come back for supper before I go to bed, I'll bring him his supper at the forge. It had seemed like an intelligent idea; clearly if he was working late he was busy, and he would need to keep up that pace, which a hearty dinner of leftover soup would help with! You had even made another small batch of biscuits.

The only problem with this plan was, well, you had no true knowledge of where the forge was. Oh certainly you had an idea, and there seemed to be an increase in heat along your chosen path, which was heartening. You carefully picked your way along, mainly keeping your gaze trained downward to prevent you from tripping or stepping on something a bit sharper than your boot’s old sole could manage. 

A warbling groan immediately tore your attention upwards and you desperately tried to steady the lantern without burning yourself on the hot globe. What is-?

You had never seen a Soldat in the light before, or as much light as this. It was human-shaped but it did not look…correct. You knew you made a noise, some startled sound, and the thing turned. 

Lord Heisenberg had never precisely explained the process of creating his Soldats and the stories you had heard never went into much detail, only mentioning how fragile they were and how easily House Dimitrescu had overwhelmed them.

A motor thrummed, sputtering to life, and as the Soldat faced you you realized why it hadn't looked correct. Its left arm had been replaced by the bulk of some monstrous machinery that was crowned with a sluggishly-spinning drill. Its right arm was just a stump, pale flesh hanging from the remainder of the joint. 

You hesitated, unsure of the thing's comprehension and whether it knew you as friend or foe. The lycans were unpredictable, you didn't see why this would be any different. “H-Hello,” You called nervously, struggling to be heard over the drill (which seemed to be gaining speed). “I'm here to bring the lord his dinner, if that's alright?” Of course, there was no reply. 

It took a heavy step towards you. Then another, and another. The drill began whining at a high pitch, and you took an instinctive step backwards.

The Soldat broke into a clumsy, loping run, drill reeling back for some sort of blow. You turned and bolted, fleeing the way you'd come. Desperately you tried to remember the path you'd taken in reverse, hoping against hope that you'd be able to outrun the thing. Twisting, turning, stumbling over things in your path-

Out of the nearly pitch-black darkness ahead, you heard Lord Heisenberg's voice calling, “Sweetheart? Where are you?” 

You screamed something as a section of rotted flooring gave way beneath your foot, swallowing your leg up to the shin and sending you tumbling to the ground. The lantern flew out of your hand, globe smashing and the last of the meager fuel going up in a rapid flare of light. That flare illuminated the hallway ahead, reflecting off of Karl's eyes like he was…

Well, you had known he wasn't exactly human. Not that now was the time to be dwelling on such thoughts! You rolled over, desperately fighting with the jagged wood that trapped your leg, and you tried not to think of the amount of times you'd butchered animals for dinner and the way their joints snapped under a little pressure–

A red glow heralded the Soldat's approach and you struggled harder. Karl barked, “hey! That's close enough, freak!”, but it was as if the Soldat didn't register he was speaking to it. Maybe this one didn't have ears? “I said-” A large boot hit the floor beside your ribs, Heisenberg's body overhead lit by that hellish red light. “-that's close enough!” The Soldat's drill began to grind and shriek as it came down, like it was being forced to spin in the wrong direction. You didn't even have the wherewithal to scream, your whole being dedicated to freeing your leg. 

There was a sharp grunt of exertion. A hand slapped against your elbow momentarily before fingers crushed down in a chokehold on your upper arm. Fasteners erupted from the floorboards around your leg and as they did, you finally managed to wrench yourself loose. When Karl heaved you backwards out of harm's way you caught only a momentary glimpse of his free hand bracing that terrible drill, the skin of his palm mangled by the still-spiraling machinery. 

Once the lord released you, you scrambled away on the floor until your back hit a wall. The Soldat issued a garbled yell and Heisenberg roared in reply, ripping the drill off its shoulder. Nuts and washers clattered to the floor, hydraulic fluid coming in arterial spurts while the Soldat clumsily flailed at its maker. 

Half-blind in the dark, all you could do was stare as Karl tore the Soldat limb from limb. When it inevitably toppled to the ground it could barely be considered a torso, that red light on its chest flickering weakly and starting to slowly fade. You shut your eyes tightly, aware that Heisenberg was speaking but your ears were ringing too badly to hear him. You felt nauseous and lightheaded, the floor seeming to buckle and spin beneath your trembling body. 

…

You would have been fine, if the damn floor had held. You would have outpaced that old junker in a flash. You wouldn't have even been in any danger!

Karl crouched beside you, barely resisting the urge to grab your chin and force you to look at him. “What the hell were you thinking?” He asked incredulously, but it was as if you couldn't hear him. The man huffed in irritation, getting back to his feet and walking to the hole in the floor to inspect the damage. His boot landed on a domed object, startling the lord somewhat as he'd assumed he knew every piece of junk on the floor between here and his forge. He bent to inspect the object and he realized it was a bowl, christened with the splattered remains of leftover soup. Beside it were several sad and dirty biscuits, their plate having overturned and skidded along the grime of the floor. 

Food.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry my Lady, I'm so sorry, please, please, I'm sorry-” Your voice was pitifully quiet. You'd put your hands over your ears and you were rocking, pleading, begging some specter of his faux sibling for mercy. Karl felt his heart sink and he realized in a sudden burst of uncharacteristic clarity that he hadn't been angry.

He had been afraid.

Afraid of what might happen to you. 

Gods.

“It's alright.” He breathed, settling to the floor in front of you. He nearly reached out to touch you, but hesitated when he caught sight of his bloodied fingers, forcing his mangled hand into a fist at his side instead. “It's alright. It's just me.” 

You sobbed hysterically and Heisenberg wasn't sure for a second whether you'd even heard him, then you flung your arms around his neck, clinging to him and crying into his shoulder. Karl froze, stunned. No one had ever…

Well. It didn't matter. 

“I've got you.” The man said gruffly, resting his intact hand gingerly on the top of your head. “You…you're safe.”

It felt like you just crumpled against his chest. Like every ounce of fight in your body had departed, leaving you limp and frail in his arms. All Karl could do was gather you up, the man rising to his feet after a moment of fumbling. It seemed as though you had lost consciousness, your arm dropping to hang and your head lolling back in the crook of his elbow. 

I've got you.

…

You started awake, unsure for a moment where you were, what time it was…what had happened to you?

From his place at his workbench, Karl cleared his throat. There was a snap as he folded his newspaper, then tucked it beneath his arm as he stood. The former lord approached your bedside and you couldn't help the way you shrank down into yourself, barely fighting the urge to hide beneath the covers. 

Heisenberg stopped further away than normal, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “How do you feel?” A mild enough question, given the circumstances.

Honesty. “My leg hurts a little,” was your truthful response. “But I suppose it serves me right. I shouldn't have-”

Karl cut you off by clearing his throat, the man fixing you with a stern look. “In the future, if you get any ideas about bringin’ me dinner, just yell for me. It'll save both of us a lot of trouble.” 

Shame sent a hot flush out across your cheeks and you nodded, hoping that was the end of your discussion. 

“You could have been seriously injured. I know you probably don't grasp that, but I sure as hell do. I've seen what my Soldats were designed for.” Lord Heisenberg's expression had gone grim. “It ain't your fault. I'll start decommissioning them.”

“Oh, but don't you need them?” You burst out, concerned for the inhabitants of the village that you had only recently found out relied on Karl's craftsmanship to thrive. 

The lord shrugged elegantly in reply, stating, “Before, I needed them to help because of the scale of the operation. Now though…I think I can afford to cut back on a few dozen units.” He sighed, momentarily looking exhausted. “A lot of them just wander anyway, it's not as though they're vital.”

A thought struck you and you exclaimed, “my Lord, your hand! I…” Karl tugged both of his hands out of his pockets to display them to you, raising an eyebrow. They seemed wholly intact, not so much as a crooked finger! How-?

“I heal quick.” He informed you with a flippant rotation of his wrist.  

“It was a drill, I saw it rip--h-how did-?” You were nonplussed by the whole thing. Were you so damaged by your previous trials that you had begun to imagine travesties occurring?!

Karl, however, raised an excellent point. “How many times did you wipe the blood from my back and you're worried about some fuckin’ drill yanking off my pinkie? Did you forget that I was Alcina's favorite vintage?”

“No, but-” You struggled with your words for a moment. “I just…I apologize. I did not fully comprehend the extent of your...talents.”

“Suppose that's for the best.” Karl muttered, seemingly half to himself. He abruptly clapped his hands together, giving you a stern look. “I expect you to stay put until you fully recover, understand?”

…

Karl yelled some random assortment of expletives, the latest collection of tools rocketing at the Duke. “-nearly killed! I nearly got them killed! What the fuck was I thinking?”

The Duke, having caught the bundle with ease, began sorting the tools out on his lap while Heisenberg continued to seethe and stomp around the cart. “You seem vexed, my lord. Has something occurred?” The merchant asked blandly. 

Karl shot a blistering glare up at the enormous man. “If you don't stop laughing at me-”

The Duke raised his hands in a peaceable manner. “I meant no offense, my lord! You are simply entertaining when you are so…undone.”

“Keep your commentary to yourself,” the lord growled, “this is all your fault anyway!”

The merchant had the audacity to look surprised. “My fault, my lord? I fail to see the connection.”

“It's all because you had to make your little jab, you piece of shit! If you hadn't said anything, I wouldn't have thought about it!” Even as the words left his mouth, Karl knew he was lying. 

Long before the Duke had cracked wise about prophylactics the incarcerated lord had harbored certain thoughts about you. Granted, at first they were nothing but insane fantasies. He wasn't getting free, what was the harm? He couldn't exactly gratify himself either, bound as he had been. There was little he could do aside from think, and Gods had he thought. 

And then you had released him. 

“Ah.” Heisenberg had no idea how one simple noise could sound so unbelievably smug, but he supposed if there was anyone who could manage it, it would have to be the Duke. He debated the benefits of ripping the man's head off for longer than he would care to admit, before he just slouched against one of the cart’s wheels in defeat. The Duke chuckled quietly, his girth shifting enough to make the axle creak. “I can see you are having some trouble, my lord.”

“I really ought to kill you.” Karl muttered without any real bite behind the words, dragging his hands down his face. He had spent the better part of a week tracking down every Soldat left and disassembling them, throwing the spare parts where he had amassed the bits from the Haulers. It had been an involved and tedious process, but he could always make more if the need arose again. He also made sure you watched him take apart multiple Soldats, doing his best to involve you in several related tasks so they weren't so…so much to you. You originally had shied away, but closer to the final one you displayed some tender curiosity, some minor touch of interest in his old servants. “I don't know what the hell to do.”

The Duke made a thoughtful noise, stroking his chin. “My honest opinion is that I believe you overcomplicate things.” Karl scoffed but the larger man persisted, “they have a good heart! I don't understand your resistance, I'm afraid.”

“Alcina once had me convinced that I was doing things for the right reason.” Heisenberg rested his forehead on the side of the cart. “I believed her. Trusted her.”

“Your…assistant doesn't strike me as the scheming type, my lord.” The Duke paused, then continued, “and in regards to your behavior, you are not the Lady Dimitrescu, nor are you her thrall any longer.”

“The debt I owe is extensive and I don't know how to repay them.” It was so simple to say, but it made Karl's skin crawl. All he had ever been good for was furthering someone else's ambitions. What could he do for you? You didn't exactly harbor any great expectations; you seemed wholly content to tend the fire and cook meals for the rest of your days.

Something brushed against his leg and a familiar, grating voice said, “well, don't you look like death warmed over!”

Karl punted Angie as hard as he could, unable to keep his laughter in check while the doll tumbled end over end through the air. She finally crashed to the dirt and Donna scurried by, the veiled woman gathering her beloved doll up into her arms. 

“What's the big idea?!” Angie shrieked at Karl, moving like she was going to free herself from Donna's grasp. “Is that any way to treat me, after all we've been through together?”

“You?” Karl's good humor swiftly turned foul, the man striding towards Donna with his fists clenched at his sides. “You, little rat, were the one who sold us out to Alcina! If it wasn't for you-!” Heisenberg paused, inhaling through his teeth. Donna seemed…smaller. Not that she had ever been particularly sturdy, but now she appeared like a strong gust of wind would knock her over. “You look like shit.” He said instead, grudgingly reining himself in.

Donna inclined her head. “I am. Not a leader.” She whispered, her words stilted. “It is difficult.”

“I could have told you that.” Heisenberg tugged free a cigar, the man lighting it after a moment. Meanwhile Donna just…stood there. As if she was waiting for something. “What the hell do you want, Beneviento?” Karl growled around the cigar, barely fighting the urge to rudely blow smoke in her face. “No mind games, either. Come out and say it or fuck off.”

“I can't–" Donna paused, and Angie continued in a whining tone, “it's hard, and we don't want to!”

The former lord gestured at the treeline, offering his faux sibling a joyless grin. “So leave. I'm sure there's a million other places that would happily accept a freak like you.”

“Or you!” Angie shot back tartly. 

Karl chuckled without humor around the cigar, nodding. “Yeah, ‘or me’.”

“You look better.” Donna whispered.

“I've been eatin’ right, getting in my exercise.” It wasn't technically a lie; your cooking was much more rounded than he'd ever eaten in his life. “Not exactly difficult to look better than I did while I was withering in the giant bitch's cellar.” 

“I'm sor-”

“Don't.” 

Donna inclined her head, dutifully falling silent while Angie snickered to herself. Heisenberg barely kept from biting his cigar in half, the man painstakingly removing the cheroot from his mouth before he did something he'd regret.

The Duke then spoke up, “I believe Lady Beneviento had a proposition for you.” Karl nearly jumped at the sound of the large man's voice; he'd practically forgotten he was even there, witnessing this little spat. 

Tucking his cigar back into his mouth, Heisenberg puffed a few times to ensure the thing was still lit and leaned back against the cart wheel, his arms crossed firmly over his chest. “Talk, Donna.” 

“I need equipment.”

Karl raised an eyebrow. “You do?”

The woman hesitated, obviously struggling to articulate herself. “I…the people need. Farming equipment. A-A tractor.”

Ah. “One?”

“Two would be b-better. One is…acceptable.” Donna paused again. “The cornfields-”

“-got real messed up when you fought with Alcie!” Angie finished, the doll's jaw clattering a bit. “Plus you ruined half the vineyards!”

“I'm not talkin’ to you, you little shit.” Karl grunted, making Angie sputter. “Unless you want to fly again, I suggest you stay out of this.”

“Leave Angie alone.” Lady Beneviento's tone was abruptly icy and firm. “We are having a discussion, Heisenberg.”

Karl dutifully obeyed, ignoring the doll to focus wholly on his faux sister. “Do you even have an old tractor? Scrap? Blueprints? Something, woman, I can't fabricate a tractor out of nothing.”

Beneviento produced a small, rolled piece of paper from her sleeve, handing it over to the glowering man. She then clasped her hands in front of her nervously. “We have two…two tractors. Very rusted.” She warned.

“Probably more like moldy.” Karl mumbled, only half-listening as he looked over the smudged manual page. “I'll need to see what you have for a carcass.” He finally said grudgingly.

“Ha! I knew it, I knew he would-!” Donna swiftly scooped Angie up, muffling the doll's mouth with an artfully-placed section of her black veil. The woman then offered Karl a deep bow, after which she beat a hasty retreat back down the hill while Angie continued to squall around her makeshift gag.

The Duke snorted, obviously attempting to stifle a laugh, which set off Karl’s own mirth. 

…

“Hold it–hold it steady, dammit.” 

Obligingly you adjusted your posture with the lantern, your hands too sweaty in their protective mitts to maintain the lamp's position for long. Late summer had truly set in to the valley and you were hard-pressed to find a moment where you weren't sweaty.

Heisenberg had begun repairs on an old tractor in earnest shortly after his unexpected conference with his ‘sister’, but the working conditions weren't exactly ideal. It was either labor in the shade of the moldering, poorly-lit barn, or work in the farm yard and be wholly at the mercy of the eager sun. 

The man grumbled something under his breath, the majority of his upper body currently beneath the engine as he wrestled with some unseen bolt. There was a loud thud and he began swearing in a continuous stream, shuffling out from under the machine while shaking his hand. “Rat bastard, son of a bitch,” Karl huffed, examining his quickly-reddening knuckles. “Jammed that good. Dammit.”

“Can I…?” You offered hesitantly, not really sure what he needed but willing to give it a try regardless. 

The man blew out a breath. “Yeah, damn it all. You've got smaller hands than me, maybe you can get them into where it needs to go.” He then held out one of the many rags he kept nearby, muttering, “cover your head though, you don't want to get greasy.”

Once you'd extinguished the lantern and removed your mitts, you obliged Heisenberg and carefully wound the rag around your head, making certain to pull it low on your forehead after noting the grease smeared on his own. Then, you laid down on your back and tugged yourself beneath the rickety machine alongside Karl. 

A small rubber tube was shoved into your hand, and the man gestured up at the arcane workings of the small engine. “This stupid little thing needs to go up there. In between–look, see that slot sweetheart? It needs to be fed through there so that it can be plugged in up above.”

“Why didn't you feed it down from the top instead?” It was an innocent question, you hadn't meant anything by it! But the silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the noise of Heisenberg's teeth grinding together.

Karl snatched the tube back and scuttled out from beneath the machine. You heard scraping for a moment, and then a triumphant “aha! Can you grab the other end of it now, sweetheart? Just hold it for me.”

You managed to slip your fingers into where he had indicated, just barely grasping the end of the tube and tugging it a bit further. “Got it!”

“Finally, alright.” Karl threw himself down once more, using the front axle to maneuver into position alongside you. “We need to take that and plug it-” His hand closed down on your own without warning, startling you to the point that you went stiff. Heisenberg clearly noticed; he stilled for a second but then immediately carried on, “-place it here, see?” He guided your hand to hold the hose to its appropriate inlet. “Then, we screw down the clamp to keep the hose attached.”

“Oh.” You murmured, watching him twitch his finger and the fastener on the clamp rushed to respond, twisting itself tight to secure the tube. “How would you do it if you didn't have…if you were like me?”

Karl looked at you sideways for a moment before it seemed to dawn on him, the man tapping a finger down on the screw. “Flathead screwdriver, see the groove? Pop the driver head in there and give it a twist.”

“Thank you.”

He scoffed, “‘course,” rolling out from beneath the machine and offering you a hand up. “Job isn't done yet, grab the lantern again.” He barked, “gloves!” when you almost touched the scorching handle of the lantern in your haste to obey his directive.

…

“Are you ready?”

Your head swam. Ready for what?

“I'm not moving otherwise.” 

Moving?

Somehow you were beneath the tractor again. Had you fallen? Karl's forehead bumped against your own, his body crowding yours in the small space. His eyes–

He was back in the cell, but he was no longer restrained. The lord lunged at you, groping, fondling, touching–

No, you were in his workshop, machinery crashing to the floor so Karl could press your back to the workbench, the large man burying his face in your neck and–

You started awake, intensely aware of the slick sensation between your upper thighs and the heated flush on your face. Blinking in the dim room, you struggled to comprehend what had just happened.

What was that?! You thought in a panic, frantically fanning your face to try and cool off. You had rarely ever dreamt, and you'd certainly never had a dream like that! 

You jerked your eyes up, darting a glance at the workbench, but it was mercifully vacant. Lord Heisenberg must be elsewhere.

Lord Heisenberg.

That's right. Lord Heisenberg. Not Karl, not someone you were close to, regardless of how kind he was to you. Your place was beneath him, and it always would be. 

No matter what pretty words he had said.

You helped me. 

You can leave whenever you want. 

You shook your head, frustrated and embarrassed. Maybe this…infatuation was to be expected, you had tended to the lord for quite a while. You understood his needs to an extent, you cared for him, but you may not necessarily care about him. It was to be expected that the waters might get muddied, the lines between servant and more blurred by the passage of time and the familiarity that came with it.

I hope.

Part Three

[ilwonuu]

heyyyyy since ur requests r open.. I THOUGHTTT that it would really be cool if u did this reference with wonwoo😭😭 i’ve been thinking about it since 2023 when i saw that reel..bye..😭😘

YES ISNSHSHS THANK YOU FOR RHIS. wonwoo is my man i love him so bad. i hope u enjoy<3

࣪ ‹ 𖥔 ࣪falling for it. j.wonwoo

summary- you best friend is trying to show you how to see if someone is a fuck boy. you already fell for the fuck boy right infront of you.

warnings- fluff, slight flirting

authors note- something kinda cute??? idek but i hope u enjoyed 💖💖TELL IF I SHOULD WRITE SOMETHING LONGER

you’re currently in the arms of your close friend. him being dangerously close to you. causing your heart to beat faster then usual. something you should be used to at this point.

he’s holding you in his arms softly. taking to you with his deep voice. “i have a feeling you’re not listening.” he says looking down at you. you shake your head. “i’m listening sorry. got uh distracted.”

more like fucking horny. he looks this good and you get to be this close to him. you have already fell for the trap he is trying to help you not fall in. his broad shoulders, the way his shirt is slightly tight against his chest. this man is gonna be the death of you.

“you got distracted again.” he laughs at you. “listen y/n.” he says trying to sound serious. he’s talking about how to not fall for it again.

you already happy with the fact you have him this close to you. you already fell for the trap. you wanted him so bad.

hes looking down at you smirking slightly to himself. he definitely knows what he does to you. “you’re a bad listener.” he rolls his eyes at you. “not true!” you protest to him. he just ignores your words. “pay attention.”

you really try to focus this time. failing once again. you will never be able to focus.

[changisworld]

Okay. Hear me out. Shower with skz🥹

-🦇

BBCBCDNANANABABAJnn THIS IS A NEED, THANK THE HEAVENS THAT 🦇 IS REAL TO PUT RHIS IN OUR HEADS

main masterlist here

->I feel as if Seungmin, felix, hyunjin & maybe chan?? would shower with you just simply for fun, probably also half for convenience cuz saves time duh but if they get to see you naked who tf are they to pass on the opportunity???

-> wash your hair for you & especially seungmin probably begs for you to wash his hair back for him, even kneeling down if he has to just so you’re forced to do it(you were never not gonna do it for him he’s too cute to say no to)

-> I can imagine felix n also Seungmin complaining about how you alwyas have the shower on too hot for their liking…as if it’s meant to be THEIR SHOWER to begin with, you turn the knob that tiny bit higher just to watch them squeal hehehe

->DEFINITELY KISSES IN RHE SHOWEEEBEBEH they don’t miss the chance to ogle over you.. obviously… but more often than not, they don’t wanna do anything too crazy in the shower, simply because knowing them, especially hyunjin, would slip or chan would somehow drop a shampoo bottle at the worst moment n hit one of you guys in the foot just ruining the moment😭 they’d probably rather give you a reason to just get back in the shower straight after you both finish n end up in the bedroom, just to get sweaty again after their hard ons are just too much.

->ON THE ORHER HAND, LEEKNOW, HAN, JEONGIN N CHANGBIN ARE A DIFFERENT CASE.

->they know your own shower routine at this point n they always make sure to follow in not too long behind yiu(especially leeknow) & he tries to act so casual, just murmuring about how he just wants to shower but you ‘stole it’ just to end up having you pressed against the cold wall five minutes later

-> or jisung & also binnie whining at you because you aren’t instantly giving their boner any attention, because it’s ‘your fault you look this good all soapy’ & as they keep looking at you, bottom lip in a pout, they move their hips just enough to have their cock rubbing against your leg, making you fold not too long later(in more ways than one hehehe)

->INNIE IS THE WORST FOR SHOWERING ISTG!!! just teases you the entire time, sliding his fingers through your inner thighs as he helps you wash your body, purposely grazing his fingers through your folds ever-so-often, making you wince & him give you his pretty cheeky smile.

->as you turn your back to him to let him put the shampoo or conditioner in your hair, he is pushing on your upper back, urging you to bend over just a tinnyyy bit more. “cmon, it’s technically completely mess free because we will be getting rid of any cum or sweat as it comes!” he pouts, purposely leaving a pun in his sentence.

[myown-worstenemy-2003]

Play It Again, Play It Again, Play It Again

A/N: Part two of the mini-series! As always I hope you enjoy it as much I did writing it! I love seeing feedback! And feel free to request something! Let me know any feedback that you have! If you feel up to it send me a request and I will do my best to give it justice!

Summary: You're invited to a party by one of your new friends. Let's see how the night ends.

Word Count: 1963

It had been a couple of months since you had broke things off with Billy. Since that you've kind of tried to keep to yourself but everyone needs someone to talk to, especially to make it around here.

What made it better was that you met a couple of mothers when you would pick up Rhiannon from daycare, and started your own friend group. All of them were around your age and their kids were already playing with Rhiannon during daycare anyway. Nancy had a brown-eyed shaggy-haired boy named Theodore. Piper had a little curly-head girl named Rosemary. And then there is Robin, she doesn't have any children but she comes and picks up Theo or Rosie every now and then, even both sometimes.

It was nice that you and Rhiannon had some friends in town finally. Especially Rhiannon, you didn't want her to be lonely.

But at this particular moment you weren't sure if you were happy that you had friends anymore.

"Come on (Y/N)! You never leave the house unless it's work or taking Rhiannon somewhere! You need to have fun sometimes!" Robin tried to convince you.

"Yeah, I'm sure I can tell you what you do everyday. Get up, get Rhi and you ready, take her to daycare, go to work, pick up Rhi, have dinner and then go to bed," Nancy said watching the kids play on the playground.

You sigh, because she was right. You don't do anything fun that doesn't surround Rhiannon.

"Who's gonna watch Rhi though? I can't really afford a babysitter right now. I can barely afford daycare as it is."

"Piper's mom is going to watch the kids, I'm sure she won't mind watching Rhiannon," Nancy suggested and Piper nodded.

"I don't know guys," you hesitated, parties have never been your thing. The last time you were at a party that's when Rhiannon was conceived and here you are.

"(Y/N), you are 24. We are never gonna be this young ever again. Just this once and if you don't like it, you can leave and we'll never ask again," Piper chimes in, sitting on the bench next to you with a book on her lap that she hasn't touch since she got here, "We all need to let loose every once and a while."

The girls nodded, you groaned, "Fine. I'll go but only for two hours. That's it."

"That'll work! You'll have fun, I promise!" Robin said excitedly.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You were on your way to the party. Riding with a friend from work. Dressed in something more warm and comfortable than it was cute since #1 it was October and it was cold during the nights; #2 you weren't really looking for anything right now since your thing since Billy. You were just there to hang out with friends and maybe meet some new people.

As you approached you noticed that there were a lot of trucks and some haybales, and everyone else was parked on the other side of the road. You didn't even think about bringing your own chair. You figured that there was going to be enough going on that you might not need it. But past you was too ambitions compared to present you so was full of nervous at the moment.

How the hell did you do this when you were in college?

Jessica put the car into park and got out and you followed suit.

"Hey I'll see you around? Around 1?" Jessica said with a smile. You nodded and smiled back.

You stood outside of the car for a second to catch your breath.

"It's all good. Everything will be okay. Just three hours. Yeah, only three hours and then you can go home," you hyped yourself up. You brushed yourself off (like you had dirt on you) and headed toward the crowd of people gathering around the bonfire.

"There she is! I wasn't sure you were going to show!" Robin said as she walked up to you and hugged you, "Here's the rest of the gang for you to meet!"

"Everyone this is (Y/N)! Be on your best behavior!" she said, jokingly, you heard some laughing and a, 'Booooo'.

"This here is Vickie, she's my girl," Robin introduced you to a ginger with freckles. You shook her hand, "Nice to meet ya."

"You know Nancy," Robin said and you hugged her as she came up. There was a nervous looking man behind her with brown hair, Robin said, "This is her husband, Jonathan. Theo looks like him."

"I can see it," you smiled and shook his hand too. Piper came up next, "I'm so glad that you made it! We want you to have fun too."

"Thanks, it's good so far," you smiled.

"Oh yeah!" she said, she turned to look behind her, "This is my husband, Eddie. It's where Rosie gets the curly hair from."

"Hey there, I'm Eddie, like she said, nice to meet you," Eddie said, he had long wild curly hair with a denim vest over his leather jacket.

"I like your pins. Iron Maiden is the best," you said as you looked at his pins.

Eddie literally beamed, "Thank you! I collect them from music stores. These are my favorites."

"Really cool!"

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Dude, have you met (Y/N)? She's awesome!" Eddie said to Steve.

"Is this another fantasy person that I'm supposed to learn?" Steve asked. Eddie looked at him with a weird face, "No, she's real man. She's friends with Piper and the others. She over there."

Eddie pointed to where a girl was sitting by herself on the tailgate of Piper's truck. Her legs swinging as she watched the fire crackle.

"She's got to have a boyfriend here. No way that she doesn't," Steve said, looking around for someone that was looking for her, "Is she Joe's girlfriend?"

"No man, Piper said that she's single. Not really looking for anything at the moment, just new friends," Eddie explained, "Buuuuut...you should try and make more than friends."

"I can make friends with her," Steve nodded and walked toward you.

"Good job babe," Piper said as she came up next to Eddie and fist bumped him and watched what was about to happen.

Steve walked up, "Hey, this seat taken?"

You looked over to the new voice.

Not going to lie, he's pretty cute.

You smiled, "Not at all," you slid over to make sure that he has enough room to sit.

"My name's Steve," he said as he sat down, putting his hands in his pockets.

"Nice to meet you, I'm (Y/N)," you said smiling.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

God how am I already falling in love with this woman already?

"Honestly, I love new wave music! The Cure is probably my favorite from the bunch as of right now, but that changes from month to month," you said, talking to Steve.

You've been talking to Steve for what felt ten minutes but it's actually been hour. You could do this all night.

"You know, I think that-" Steve started but then a familiar song came on the speakers and you're eyes lit up, and you jumped off the tailgate, cutting him off.

"This is my song! I've been listenin' to the radio all night long, hopin' that it would come on and here it is!"

You hold out your hand, "C'mon, come dance with me."

Before Steve could say anything, you grabbed his hand and dragged him up. He tried keeping up with you but he was too distracted by you to keep up. You had a carefree smile on your face and your body was moving in ways that was very bad for his groin area in public.

As the song came to an end, you kissed him on the cheek, "Thank you for dancin' with me."

"Play it again!" Steve yelled to see if someone could rewind the tape and start it over again so he could gain the courage to ask you out.

You smiled and yelled, "Play it again! Play it again!"

You both laughed and then heard the next song play, looking at each other almost in a trance.

"I-" Steve started to say but you looked down at your watch, "I had a lot of fun tonight Steve but I'm afraid that I have to go."

"Are you sure?" Steve asked, not really wanting you to leave just yet but understanding.

"Yeah, I gotta check on my-" you hesitated, "my pet. She's not used to being alone this late."

"I understand. Let me walk you to your car?" Steve offered.

"I actually rode here with one of my coworkers. So I guess I need to find her."

"I'll help you, who is it?"

"Jessica Cooley," you answered starting to look around for her.

"Jessica? She left already. Left with Matt Hargrave about an hour ago."

"What? You're kiddin'. I guess I'll ask someone else for a ride," you said a little upset.

"I can take you home," Steve offered, really hoping that you would take him up on the offer.

"Are you sure? I don't want to burden you. I can just have Piper or someone take me home," you said hesitant because you didn't know him, but you had a feeling that you could trust him.

"I'm sure. Come on, let's get you home."

You smiled, "Okay thank you."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You were looking out the window, thinking about something to start a conversation but you couldn't think of anything that wouldn't be considered small talk or just bad in general.

That was when Steve turned on the radio and you started singing along to (I've Had) The Time Of My Life.

It didn't take too long to get to your house, maybe three songs if you remember correctly, but for some reason it felt like it was taking a little longer than usual. And you weren't upset by it at all. It had been five songs already and you sang along to every song that had came on the radio.

But it was only when you getting ready to pull on your street was when Steve started to scan the radio, almost frantically.

"This is me," you said and Steve pulled into the driveway and put the car in park.

"Thank you for the ride home, I really appreciate it. I don't have cash on me right now, but I can run in and get some for gas?"

"It's no trouble at all. I don't want money. But if you really want to pay me back, let me take you out on a date?" Steve asked wearing a charming but hopeful smile on his face.

You smiled, "I would like that."

He smiled, "Sounds great, how Friday? Dinner and a movie?"

You nodded your head, "I would love that."

"Cool, let me walk you to the do-," Steve said and just as he said that, your song came on the radio.

"No way! There is no way that this song would play twice in one night!" you exclaimed excitedly.

"Come dance with," you said as you got out of the car. He followed you and started dancing in the headlights.

It was like straight out of a movie. Everything was perfect, the lights, the song, the weather, and you.

As the song started to fade out, you got caught up in the passion of dancing and the feeling of it, you kissed Steve.

It was just like everything else, the kiss was perfect.

When you broke the kiss he looked at you and said, "I'm gonna call the DJ right now and get that song played again right now."

You threw your head back laughing, "Goodnight Steve, thank you for the perfect night."

He smiled, "You took the words right out of my mouth."

[fourthwingfan]

Madness - Chapter 17

Hi, guys. Enjoy the new chapter :)

It is therefore only natural that the more powerful the dragon, the more powerful the signet its rider manifests. One should beware of a strong rider who bonds a smaller dragon, but even warier of the unbonded cadet, who will stop at nothing to seize a chance to bond.

—Major Afendra’s Guide to the Riders Quadrant

(Unauthorized Edition)

After sleeping in the crowded barracks for the last two months, it’s weird, and oddly decadent, to have my own room. I’ll never take the luxury of privacy for granted again.

I close my door behind me as I step into the hallway.

Violet’s door is to the right of mine and I see her limping towards me.

“Hi, there rider.” I greet her with a smile. “How is your leg?”

“Hi, Aelin.” She smiles back. “It’s not that bad. I’ll be fine in a couple of days.”

“Good morning, neighbours.” I feel an arm around my shoulder.

“Hi, Liam.” I look up at him. His room is the one left of mine, and Ethan’s next to him. We are the only first-years who survived Threshing in our squad.

“Hi.” I hear Vi whispers and I can see a small blush? on her face.

Oh, my god. I love it!

“Are you okay, Vi? You’re face is a little red.” I say with a sly smile.

“Yes.” She glares at me and turns around when Rhiannon’s door, across the small hall from us, opens and we see Sawyer’s tall, lean frame come out. He runs his fingers through his hair, and when he sees us, his eyebrows rise and he freezes—his cheeks almost as red as his freckles.

“Good morning.” I grin.

“Guys.” He forces an awkward smile and walks off, headed toward the main hallway of the first-year dormitory.

Rhiannon walks out of her room and smiles as soon as she sees us. “No more breakfast duty?” She turns to Violet.

“I was told last night that all the less desirable duties were being handed off to the unbonded so our energy can be redirected for flight lessons.”

„One more reason for the unbonded to hate us,” Rhiannon mutters.

“It doesn’t matter. I think our dragons existence are already pisses them off.” I shrug.

„So, Sawyer, huh, Rhi?” Vi asks as we start down our hallway, passing a few other rooms before meeting up with the main corridor that leads to the rotunda. Have to say, the first-year rooms aren’t as spacious as the second-years’, but at least we all got ones with windows.

A grin curves her lips. “I felt like celebrating.” She darts a quick side-eye at her. “And why have I not heard of you celebrating?”

We melt into the crowd moving toward the gathering hall. “Haven’t found anyone I want to celebrate with.”

“Really? Because I heard that you and a certain squad leader had a moment last night.”

She nearly stumbles over her feet.

“Come on, Vi. The entire quadrant was out there, and you don’t think someone saw you?” I roll my eyes.

„Who gives a shit if it’s frowned upon to be in a relationship with a superior officer? There’s no regulation, and it’s not like any of us is guaranteed to live through the day.” Rhiannon says.

“Solid points,” she admit. “But it’s…” she shakes her head, searching for the right words. “It’s not like that with us. I’d always hoped it would be, but when he kissed me—there was nothing there. Like. Nothing.”

“Well, that’s shitty to hear.” She hooks her arm through hers. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” She sighs.

“I’m not.” I glance at them. “I never liked him. And he doesn’t support you, Vi. You deserve someone who sees you. Because you’re awesome.” I squeeze Vi’s hand.

“Thanks, I think.” She smiles at me with gratitude.

„Good morning, ladies. And Liam.” Ridoc forces his way through the crowd and slings an arm around Rhiannon and Vi’s shoulders as we enter the rotunda. “Or should I say, riders?”

“I like the sound of riders,” Rhiannon replies, shooting a smile in his direction.

“It has a certain ring to it,” Ridoc agrees.

“It’s definitely better than dead. Where’s your relic?” Vi asks Ridoc as we pass through the columns of carved dragons and take the steps into commons.

“Right here.” His arm falls off her shoulders, and he shoves the sleeve of his tunic up to reveal the brown mark of a dragon silhouette on his upper arm. “You?”

“Can’t see it. It’s on my back.”

“That will keep you safer if you’re ever separated from that massive dragon of yours.” His eyes dance. “I swear, I thought I was going to shit myself when I saw him on the field. What about yours, Rhi?”

“Somewhere you’ll never see,” she responds.

“You wound me.” He slaps his hand over his heart.

“I highly doubt that,” she retorts, but there’s a smile on her face.

“And you Aelin? If it’s somewhere private than I’d like to volunteer to check it out. Just you, and me.” He winks at me.

“Nice try.” I laugh at him. “But I’ll pass.”

“Are you waiting for someone else?” Liam whispers in my ear.

“Shut up.” I elbow him in the ribs while I feel myself flush.

Before anyone can ask another question we move through commons and into the gathering hall, then make our way through the line for breakfast.

“Asshole,” Ridoc mutters in front of  me. “I still can’t believe they tried to kill you.” He says to Violet.

“Who?” I ask and look toward the counter. There’s a man behind it and he glares at Violet with hatred in his eyes. “Oh wow. What did you do to him?”

“I beat him during the challanges.” Vi turns to me. „And before Threshing he said that I better watch my back.”

“Hm. He really holds a grudge.” I say while we collect our breakfast. „But don’t worry, now you’re a rider with a badass dragon. Still… I can’t believe he’s this petty.”

„I’m the weakest link, right? Unfortunately for me, that means people are bound to try and take me out for the good of the wing.” Vi says.

“You’re not!” I say firmly.

We head toward the Fourth Wing section and find a table with extra seats.

“Mind if we—” Ridoc starts.

“Absolutely! It’s yours!” A couple of guys from Tail Section scurry off the bench.

“Sorry, Sorrengail!” the other says over his shoulder as they find another table, leaving this one empty.

What the hell?

“Well, that was really fucking weird.” I say as Rhiannon rounds the other side of the table, and I follow, putting our backs to the wall as we step over the bench and sit, setting our trays in front of us.

“Even weirder?” Liam remarks, gesturing across the hall toward First Wing.

Following his line of sight, my eyebrows lift. Jack Barlowe is being squeezed out of his table. He’s forced to stand as others take his seat.

“What the hell is going on?” Rhiannon bites into a pear and chews.

Jack moves to another table—whose occupants won’t make room for him—and then finds a place two tables down.

“How the mighty have fallen, Ridoc notes, watching the same show I am, but there’s no satisfaction in watching Jack struggle. Feral dogs bite harder when they’re cornered.

“Hey, Sorrengail,” the stocky girl from First Wing says with a tight smile as she walks past our table.

“Hi.” She wave awkwardly as she walks away, then turn to whisper to us. “She hasn’t spoken to me since I took one of her daggers in that challenge.”

“It’s because you bonded Tairn.” Imogen blows her pink hair out of her face and throws her leg over the bench across from us to sit, pushing up the sleeves of her tunic and revealing her rebellion relic. “The morning after Threshing is always a clusterfuck. Power balance shifts, and you, little Sorrengail, are now about to be the most powerful rider in the quadrant. Anyone with common sense is going to be scared of you.”

I blink, is that what’s going on? I look around the hall and take note. Social groups have split up, and some of the cadets I would have considered threats are no longer sitting where they usually do.

“Which is why you’re now sitting with us?” Rhiannon arches a brow at the second-year. “Because I can count on one hand the number of nice words you’ve said to any of us.” She holds up a fist with zero fingers raised.

Quinn—the tall second-year—takes a seat next to Imogen, and Sawyer arrives, sitting on Rhiannon’s other side. Quinn tucks her blond curls behind her ears and brushes her bangs out of her eyes, her round cheeks rising as she smiles at something Imogen says. Have to admit, the hooped piercings that line the shells of both her ears are pretty awesome, and among her half dozen patches, it’s the dark-green one—the same color as her eyes—with two silhouettes that’s most intriguing. I should have studied up on what all the patches mean, but according to what I’ve heard, they change every year.

I’m personally a fan of the first ones we’ve been given. I had to sew the tail-shaped patch with the emblem for Fourth Wing and the centered number two with great care, being sure to only stitch the fabric of my corseted armor, since it’s not like any needle is going to penetrate the scales.

„You weren’t interesting enough to sit with before,” Imogen responds, then bites into a muffin.

“I usually sit with my girlfriend in Claw Section. Besides, no use getting to know you when most of you die,” Quinn adds, tucking her curls away again, just to have them spring forward. “No offense.”

“None taken?” Vi says.

Then Heaton and Emery, the only third-years in their squad, flank Imogen and Quinn on the bench across from us.

“Wow. Is it a squad meeting?” I ask while munching on an apple. “Liam, I think we stand out too much.”

“You’re right. Why don’t you sit with your own squad?” Imogen asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Because they like us more than you. Even though you are their squadmate.” I smile at her coldly. “We have every right to be here. If you have a problem with it then the challanges we’ll start over soon.”

She swallows and looks at her plate.

“Is it just me or is anyone else surprised that Barlowe bonded?” Ridoc questions. “Though from what I’ve heard, his Orange Scorpiontail is on the smaller side.”

“She is,” Quinn confirms. “Which is why he’s struggling this morning.”

“Don’t worry—I’m sure he’ll make up for his lack of social standing in other ways,” Rhiannon mutters, her gaze narrowing. “You have to have some protein, Vi. You can’t just survive on fruit.”

“It’s the only food I can be sure isn’t tampered with, especially with that guy behind the counter.” she peels an orange.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Imogen scrapes three pieces of sausage onto her plate. “She’s right. You’re going to need all your strength to ride, especially with a dragon as big as Tairn.”

I stare at the sausage. Imogen hates her just as much as me. Hell, she’s the one who broke her arm and ripped out her shoulder on assessment day.

“You can trust her,” Aon says, and I startle, almost dropping the apple.

“She hates us.”

“But she has changed.” He says and I can feel him pulling back.

No other explanation? Fine.

Vi starts to eat, and I focus on the conversation at the table again.

“What’s your signet?” Rhiannon asks Emery.

Air rushes down the table, rattling the glasses. Air manipulation. Got it.

“That’s epic.” Ridoc’s eyes widen. “How much air can you move?”

“None of your business.” He barely spares him a glance.

“Sorrengail, after class is out today, you’re mine,” Imogen says.

“I’m sorry?” She asks in surprise.

Her pale green eyes lock on her. “Meet me in the sparring gym.”

“I’m already working with her on sparring—” Rhiannon starts.

“Good. We can’t afford her to lose any challenges,” Imogen retorts. “But I’m going to help you with weights. We need to strengthen the muscles around your joints before challenges resume. That’s the only way you’ll survive.”

The hairs rise on the back of my neck. “And since when do you care about her survival?” This isn’t a squad thing. It can’t be. Not when she didn’t give a shit before.

“Since now,” she says, gripping her fork in her fist, but it’s the lightning-fast glance toward the dais at the end of the hall that gives her away. Her concern isn’t coming from the goodness of her heart. Something tells me it’s an order. “Squads are about to be condensed at morning formation. We’ll be down to two in every section,” she continues. “Aetos kept the highest number of his first-years alive—hence the patch—so he’ll be allowed to retain his squad, but we’ll probably gain a few when they strip the squads from those who weren’t as successful.” She glances at Liam and I.

As discreetly as I can, I look to my right, past the other Fourth Wing tables and to the dais where Xaden sits with his executive officer and the section leaders, including Garrick, whose shoulders look like they should take up at least two seats. It’s Garrick who looks my way first, his forehead lining with… What is that? Worry? Then he looks away. The only reason he’d be remotely worried—he knows something.

Imogen helping Violet. Violet bonded to Tairn. Ohh shit.

“Aon? Is Tairn and Sgaeyl are mates?”

“Yes. They have a bond.” He answers.

“Then Violet and Xaden are somehow connected too?” I have my suspicions.

“Yes. They have a bond through their dragons.” He answers. “But it’s not an emotional one, little one.” He adds silently.

Then it means Garrick knows Violet’s fate is tethered to Xaden’s.

My gaze snaps to Xaden, and my chest tightens. So. Freaking. Beautiful. Apparently my body doesn’t care that he’s as dangerous as they come in the quadrant, because heat rushes through my veins, flushing my skin.

He’s using a dagger to peel an apple, removing the rind in one long curl, and the blade continues its path as his eyes lift, locking with mine.

My whole head tingles.

Gods, is there any part of my body that doesn’t physically react to the sight of him?

He glances toward Imogen and back to me, and that’s all it takes for me to know for certain. He’s ordered her to help train Violet. Xaden Riorson is now in the business of keeping his mortal enemy alive.

…

A few hours later, after the squads are rearranged and the death roll is read, all the first-year riders in Fourth Wing stand in our newly issued flight leathers, waiting in front of our dragons on the flight field.

We were the smallest squad, it was logical to disband us. I don’t know why, but fortunately Liam, Ethan and I was assigned to Fourth Wing, Flame Section, Second squad. It’s Violet’s squad. Our squad’s second- and third-years went into the same squad too. I don’t complain. I’m glad that we’re still together. So now it’s our first flight lesson as a member of a new squad.

The uniform is thicker than our usual one, with a full jacket I’ve buttoned over my dragon-scale armor. And unlike our regular uniforms, whatever we choose them to be, flight leathers bear no insignia besides our rank at our shoulder and any leadership designation. No names. No patches. Nothing that could give us away if we’re separated from our dragons behind enemy lines. Just a lot of sheaths for weapons.

I try not to think about possibly fighting in the war effort one day and focus on the organized chaos evolving on the flight field this morning. I can’t miss the way the other cadets look at Tairn or the wide berth the other dragons give him. Honestly, if I had those teeth bared at me, I’d back away, too.

„No you wouldn’t, because you didn’t. You stayed and defended your friend.” Aon’s voice fills my head as he stands next to Tairn, and I can tell from his tone there are places he’d rather be.

“Only because there was a lot going on at the moment,” I respond.

“I don’t think so. Now pay attention!” He ends the discussion.

I roll my eyes but focus on what Kaori is saying from the center of the field. His hand is up, using common lesser magic to project his voice so we can all hear.

God help us when Ridoc figures out how to do that. I bite back a smile, knowing he’ll find some way to annoy the shit out of every rider in the quadrant, not just his squad.

“…and at only ninety-two riders, you are our smallest class to date.”

My shoulders dip. “I thought a hundred and one were willing to bond, plus you and Tairn?”

“Willing doesn’t mean they found worthy riders,” Aon answers. “You’re worthy. At least I think you are, but you apparently don’t pay attention in class.” He chuffs and a warm puff of steam blasts the back of my neck.

“There are forty-one unbonded riders who would kill to be standing where you are,” Kaori continues. “And your dragons know that your bond is at its weakest point right now, so if you fall, if you fail, there’s a good chance your dragon might let you if it thinks the unbonded will be a better choice.”

“Comforting,” I mutter.

Aon makes a noise that reminds me of a scoff.

“Now, we’re going to mount, then follow a series of specific maneuvers your dragons already know. Your orders are simple today. Stay in your seat,” Kaori finishes. Then he turns and breaks into a sprint, racing the dozen feet toward his dragon’s foreleg and making the vertical climb to mount.

Just like the last obstacle on the Gauntlet.

I sprint up the same way and I navigate Aon’s spikes to find the seat. My tighs ache a little from yesterday, but it’s bearable. I grip the pommel. Okay, I’m ready.

Kaori’s dragon launches into the sky.

“Hold tight.”

I feel as Aon crouches a millisecond before he hurls us skyward. The wind tears at my eyes as my stomach falls away, and I risk holding on with one hand to lower my flight goggles. Immediate relief.

“We had to go third?” I ask Aon as we fly out of the canyon and higher into the mountain range. I get it now, why I didn’t see the dragons training often even though I’ve basically grown up at Basgiath. The only people around us are other riders.

“I only agreed to follow Smachd because his rider is your instructor. Tairn should be the first.”

“So you’re an in-front kind of guy. Good to know. Remind me to spend some time at temple so I can make multiple appeals to Dunne.” I keep my focus on Kaori, watching for when the maneuvers will start.

“The goddess of strength and war?” Aon clearly scoffs this time.

“What, dragons don’t think we need the gods on our side?” Shit, it’s cold up here. My gloved hands tighten on the pommel.

“Dragons pay no heed to your puny gods.”

Kaori banks right, and Aon follows suit, leading us into a steep dive down the face of one of the peaks. I clench with my legs to remain in the seat.

We go into another climb and even a near-spiral of a turn, and I can’t help but notice that he’s taking everything Kaori is doing and making it harder. The same as Tairn.

“Why did you make it harder?” I ask. “It’s our first flight lesson, I don’t want to fall off.”

“You won’t. I chose you, now trust me. Unless you’d rather be scraped off the glacier below like Gleann’s rider back there?”

I whip my head around to look, but all I see is Aon’s tail swinging, his massive spikes blocking the view.

“Don’t look.”

“We already lost a rider?” My throat knots.

“Gleann chose poorly. He never bonds strongly anyway.”

At least I can hold my seat. It’s not that bad.

As soon as I think this, I see Violet as he falls off from Tairn.

“Violet!” I shout without thinking.

“Don’t worry. Tairn will catch her.” Aon says.

“What? But I thought the dragons never catch the newly bonded riders.”

Then I see Tairn’s claws catch her. He climbs high, then tosses her again, his back rises to meet her falling bottom. I sigh with relief as she takes her seat. She’s safe.

“Worry about yourself, little one. You have a lot to learn. Leave your friend to Tairn.”

I try to concentrate, but I can’t help and notice as Violet falls again.

And again.

And again.

Shit. We have to figure something out.