#peace... i just want peace... something so deep and to my very core

[starsofang]

CALL OF THE SEA / PART SEVENTEEN

pirate poly!141 x f!reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, violence, degrading, mentions of death/blood, dove is called some nasty words, please heed warnings for this chapter masterlist a/n: girlbossed a little too hard and finished the chapter a day early. posting this after my 14 hour shift with nothing but hope and dreams. this chapter is a long one, i think the longest one so far, so have fun :p

When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.

Up close, Graves was even more sinister than imagined. It was as if you were living in your own nightmare come to life, with beady eyes crinkling back at you as a curled smile stretched over his face. Adorned in all black from head to toe, with the only spouts of color being the mess of dark blonde atop his head, nearly covered by the old, leather pirate hat.

His skin was deathly pale, a feat you knew to be from his reaping sins. To take a life in return for a piece of his—a soul bind.

If he weren’t such a sick man, you’d dare say he’d been handsome, if it weren’t for the look of rotting to the core. His personality did no justice, something cocky and mighty. He knew exactly how to play his game, and he played it well.

In your turmoil, you dared to wonder if all of this was indeed another nightmare. Perhaps you were still asleep, stuck in an endless loop until Soap or Gaz awoke you as they always did; but with a sharp pinch on your thigh beneath the thin covers of Price’s bedspread, the world remained at ease.

This one wouldn’t be easy to get out of.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Graves mused, smile so wide you worried the corners would crack and bleed. You wished you could see him writhe like a helpless roach beneath your shoe. “Why the long face?”

“How—” You swallowed, fisting the sheets. “How are you here?”

Graves stood straight, glancing around the room. He pretended to ponder, holding his arms up to shrug. “I let myself in.”

Your eyes followed his every move as he slowly stepped throughout Price’s quarters, taking it in. You sat as still as a statue, completely frozen in place. The sound of his heavy boots along the wood floors rang alarm bells.

The air in the room fell icy cold, rising goosebumps on your skin. There was that frigid chill that felt as if you’d just stepped into a slaughterhouse, a hint of decay tickling your nostrils.

This was the feel of death you’d always felt, lingering behind you, watching. He’d always been there, even if only in your mind.

“Where is the Captain?” you asked, attempting to make your voice firm. Show no weakness—it was the very thing you’d been taught since your first day on the ship. You hoped Price would be proud that you remembered.

Graves’ eyebrows raised and while his smile remained, it only seemed to glimmer with excitement when the question was asked, as if you asked a dog if he wanted a bone.

“He truly has you on a leash,” he snickered, finding something amusing in all of it. “You’re like their little bitch, aren’t you?”

Your blood ran hot at the demeaning nature his words brought, but you knew better. They were for show, something to make him appear taller. If you fell for it, you’d only be digging a deeper grave for yourself.

“No,” you muttered, eyes narrowing. “I am a pirate, just as them.”

Graves barked out a laugh, one that made your ears bleed. It was meant to deplete your confidence, poisoned with arrogance.

“Is that right?” he asked with a shit-eating grin. “A pirate, are you?”

Graves stalked towards you, agonizingly slow, stopping when his knees bumped the side of the cot. He leaned down so his face was level with yours, empty eyes peering deep within your soul. His breath reeked of death and despair, nearly knocking you unconscious.

“I’d like to test that.”

His icy hand wrapped around your bicep, hauling you out of the bed. With a yelp, you stumbled to your feet, bare of their shoes. The world beneath your soles felt foreign now, ever since Soap had given you your gift and you’d never take them off unless you were falling asleep.

The grip was tight, causing your heartbeat to thump through your muscles angrily. Your skin under his hand paled from the sheer force.

Graves tugged you along as you fought to resist him, squirming and attempting to plant your feet to the floor. Without the help of your shoes compared to his unruly strength, your fight was deemed useless. He continued dragging you, so much so you could feel little splinters begin to dig into your soles and invoke dull pangs of pain.

Fear filled your body from head to toe, your heart pounding against your rib cage. A lump filled your throat, coated with anxiety. Your mind filled with millions of thoughts, smothering any confidence you previously had and replacing it with the idea of death.

Was this where all would end? Your crew was one of the most feared among the seas, a healthy bounty placed over their heads. But there would always be one person above, and that person was Graves.

Every kick, bump, resist was fruitless as Graves hauled you to the door. What lay beyond it terrified you, images of your men dead flashing before your eyes.

Coated in their own bloodbaths, bodies laid limp amongst the floors of their own homes, sprawled out as if they meant nothing. Oh, you couldn’t bear it. You’d have to go, too—you’d have nothing left.

When Graves opened the door, you weren’t sure if the sight was any better.

It was dark, the moon only a sliver in the sky, granting no room for light. A single lantern was all that was left to cast orange shadows, its fire flickering in a dance for a way out.

Your crew was lined shoulder to shoulder, on their knees in a submissive front, hands bound with thick rope behind their backs. Graves’ men, his Shadows, held the barrel of their guns to each of their heads.

Though the sight was an improvement from what you initially prepared yourself for, it was far from good. It was bordering those images, a glimpse into what could be a massacre.

The moment you were out of Price’s quarters, Graves let go of you, shoving you. You lost your balance, tumbling to your side, your head slamming into the deck. Pain blossomed under your skull and you hissed in pain.

“Dove?” you heard one of them call out. Your head spun, making it hard to figure out who it was.

A heavy blow landed on your side where you lay, and you wheezed, Graves’ boot unexpected. It kept you in place, applying pressure to guarantee you wouldn’t try to flee and fight back.

“Get the fuck off of her,” Price growled. You could recognize it, filled with a burning venom that dared to kill anyone that was in its crossfire. “This has nothin’ to do with her.”

“It’s all to do with her,” Graves spat, digging the toe of his boot into your rib cage. His previous cockiness had melted away, revealing his boiling rage. “Isn’t that right, dove?”

Graves lifted his boot, granting you a brief moment of relief before it slammed back down. It knocked the air right out of your lungs, leaving you croaking out a plea to stop.

You coiled in on yourself, curling into a ball in attempts to lessen the damage. It did nothing to stop his boot from weighing on your side. The pain felt like nothing you’d experienced before, and you were sure you felt a bone crunch.

“Dove,” Gaz called out, frantic. He tried leaning forward to get a glimpse of your face, to search for your eyes, but the barrel of the gun only pressed deeper into the back of his skull in warning. “Dove, it’s okay. Just listen to my voice, alright? I’m right here.”

Your eyes were widened with fear, chest heaving to catch the breaths that were stolen from you. You couldn’t move, frozen in place, even as Gaz called out for you with the threat of a bullet through his head.

“I don’t know what you’re plannin’, Graves,” Price snarled, “but this is between us.”

Graves laughed diabolically, throwing his head back. It only made everything much more tense.

“Isn’t she apart of you now?” Graves humored, cocking his head. His fingers drummed along the gun in its holster on his hip. “If I’m not mistaken, she’s a pirate. I believe those were your words, Price.”

The realization that Graves knew had you going cold. The closer he got, the stronger the connection became.

“What the hell is it ye want?” Soap asked through gritted teeth. His eyes were darting back and forth between your crumpled form and Graves. “S’always somethin’ with ye, aye?”

Graves eyed Soap, a glint in his gaze. There was something unfamiliar in it, as if he held a personal grudge towards the man in question.

“There is something I want,” Graves agreed, letting out a dramatic sigh. He tapped at the gun once again, staring up at the sky in thought. “I think dove here knows exactly what that is.”

Graves dug his boot once again, peering down at you as if you were scum. You couldn’t stop the small whimper from the agony drumming in your side.

“Go on, dove,” Graves taunted, grinning. “Tell them.”

“I don’t know,” you panted. You were unfocused, eyes staring at the old floor from where your head rested.

You tried recalling what it is he could want, anything at all, but nothing was becoming clear. You scavenged through the deepest parts of your brain for even a simple clue, but the blows had made you dazed.

“I swear, I’ll fuckin’ kill you—”

“You do know,” Graves repeated, cutting off the Captain. His tone grew annoyed. “Think real hard, dove.”

“I don’t know,” you cried, shoulders beginning to shake. All the built up confidence to fight back had vanished into thin air. Now, you felt like a scared little girl, begging for mercy.

Graves’ boot lifted, then returned back down. A string of curses were thrown his way from your crew, who were thrashing in the binds, unable to aid you under the lineup of guns to their heads.

You felt wetness cascade down your cheeks, dampening your skin and falling down to the side of your head from the angle you laid. It was then you realized you were crying, embarrassingly so.

Only mere hours ago you were deemed a pirate, and yet at the start of war, you fell apart like a damsel.

“The telescope,” Ghost said, voice low. It was the first he’d spoken, only sitting there silently as you were beaten down. His head hung low, as if ashamed, though the darkness in his eyes was enough to cast doom across entire continents. “He’s talkin’ about the telescope.”

You blinked away the tears, eyes burning. Realization dawned on you the moment Ghost spoke. Through your huddled position, you tried to tilt your chin down to meet his eye. As if thinking the same thing, he lifted his head, connecting your gazes. You could see that familiar apology pooling out of him, expressing everything he needed to say.

Washed away to land and shore,

shall be the looking glass for ocean eyes.

The telescope you found for Gaz was an innocent gesture. The sight of it called out to you, as if meant to be owned by you. If you would’ve known it was Graves it was calling, you would’ve thrown it into the deep sea so it could never be found again.

“So he speaks,” Graves mused sarcastically.

Ghost broke contact first, eyes boring into Graves. He looked murderous, plotting his own bloodbath with just a simple look. The dim light of the single lantern did nothing to lessen the ominous glow, only highlighting it.

“Don’t fuckin’ talk to him,” Soap hissed, scowling. The look of pure disgust was such a contrast to his normal, boyish grins.

Graves paid no mind to him, stuck in a contest with Ghost. The two of them had a dark force swirling between them, one that even outside made the air heavy and suffocating.

“A point for your bravery, Ghost,” Graves sighed dramatically, breaking his stare. He looked between each and every man, sparing you no glance while his boot remained in place. “My telescope. Give it to me, and I’ll let her go.”

You instantly shifted your eyes to look at Gaz, who seemed to be struggling with a decision. You knew why he was having a hard time—you gifted the telescope to him, unknowing of who it truly belonged to. It was something he treasured, something he didn’t want to let go of.

“I have it,” Gaz said lowly, head bowing. “It’s in my quarters. I’ll take you to it.”

Graves sucked his teeth, feigning pity. He shook his head, hand fully resting on the gun at his hip. “Not going to work on me, Gaz. I’m quite capable of getting it myself. You sit tight, aye?”

Gaz stiffened, expression growing grim. Nevertheless, he said nothing, deciding silence was the best contender for a fight bound to end in loss.

Graves gestured for the man behind Price to fetch the telescope from Gaz and Soap’s shared quarters. Price didn’t tear his eyes away from Graves once, even as the Devil of the Seas took out his own gun and pointed it right at Price’s forehead.

He pressed the barrel of the gun into Price’s forehead, indenting the skin. It was a snug fit, a perfect shot for Graves if he wished to end things the easy way.

Graves didn’t like it easy. He liked it fun.

“Scared we’ve caught on to your trail, aye?” Price bluffed, voice gravelly and malicious. “That’s why you came out here like a fuckin’ mutt, hidin’ in the storm until you found the right time to ambush us?”

“You have your dove to blame,” Graves replied nonchalantly, rubbing his boot back and forth along your side. The pressure had you sucking air through your teeth, eyes clenching shut. “She might be your new toy, but she’s just as much a mutt as I am.”

“You shut your fuckin’ mouth,” Price snarled, body shaking with feverish rage. If he could pounce on Graves, you knew he would.

“Looks like you finally grew some balls, Captain,” Graves snickered, pulling back the hammer of the gun. It resounded a loud click, which translated to a warning bell in Price’s favor. “Such anger. That anger has never worked for you, Price. It didn’t work for Ghost—it won’t work for her.”

Price let out an animalistic growl, his lips pulling back in a sneer. You’d seen the Captain angry, and you’d seen him under the guise of a scary, ominous pirate who would kill any innocent bystander that stood in his way.

This was entirely different. This was personal. A build up. This was a storm that had been coming for ages, and you were only toeing the edges.

The Shadow returned, holding the telescope you’d gifted Gaz. It shimmered in the lantern’s glow, glinting its gold details and showing it off. It felt like a goodbye.

“I’d be real careful from now on, Graves,” Price warned. It was the first you ever heard him speak so menacingly, like the demon inside of him was erupting with a stream of hot lava filled with nothing but spewing hatred. “When I find you, I’ll fuckin’ kill you myself. String you up on my sails until you’re dry, toss you into the ocean to the sharks. I’ll take pleasure in watchin’ you burn until there’s nothin’ left but ash and dust.”

Graves took the telescope from his Shadow’s hand, inspecting it. The words Price spoke clearly struck a nerve, for the arrogant grin had vanished, replaced with a gloomy, threatened expression.

“Hm,” Graves huffed, letting his gun fall and placing it back in its holster. He signaled for his men to follow suit, and you watched as all weapons dropped. “I await the day that happens, Captain. Until then, keep your mutt on a leash, aye?”

Graves made no effort to untie the crew, leaving them bound as he gathered his men to walk the plank connecting the two ship. A long, woden plank that creaked under the weight, one od wish you could kick from its balance and send them flying into the dark sea.

The moment was brutally silent as they left. Nobody moved a muscle until Graves was on his ship, the plank pulled from its placement, and the skull flag waved goodbye as they set sail into the pit of the night.

Time stood still, but the second Graves and his crew were hidden in the waves, all hell broke loose. Price and Gaz worked together to unbind each other with their backs to one another, frantic to be released. Ghost sat silently, eyes staring into the floorboards as if they’d speak to him.

“Say somethin’, dove,” Soap begged, scooting on his knees to be by your side.

As if the dam broke, you began to cry once more, heartbreaking sobs coming right from your core. You curled up tighter into your ball, your hand resting on your side as if it would magically ease the pain.

“It hurts,” you replied, voice cracking.

You’d stayed strong up until that point. Now, you couldn’t hold up your front.

You were scared. You felt more helpless than ever. You couldn’t remain strong for the sake of pretend anymore. Everything hurt, and Graves’ presence shook you to your very core.

“I know,” he cooed. He made a frustrated noise when he struggled against the binds. “I know, dove. We’re right here, alright?”

It felt strange, being on the other side of the spectrum. You were used to being the one to aid people in their injuries, but now, it was you being comforted. You couldn’t grasp what your life had become.

Price was released from his binds, quickly helping Gaz slip out of his. While Gaz made quick work to move to work on Ghost, Price was by your side in an instant.

One hand rested on your hip, turning your body towards him while the other found your face, resting his palm on it. His eyes were filled with worry when you faced him and he urgently wiped at your tears with his thumb.

“Dove,” he breathed in relief, his heart aching at the sight of you so broken. This was his fault. “You’re okay, I have you.”

You whimpered when he shifted so he could slide his arms beneath you, one under your shoulders and the other in the bend of your knees. The movement flared pain all over again, and Price murmured apologies, unsure of what to do.

He hurried to his quarters, his men following closely behind like scared dogs with their tails between their legs. Gaz held open the door, and you only caught a glimpse of his guilt-stricken expression before you were ushered in.

Price carefully slid you on to his cot, wincing every time you whimpered or cried. The pain felt excruciating, your breathing quick and labored.

“She needs a medic,” Soap stressed.

“She is a medic,” Gaz reminded, resting his hands on the edge of the cot so he could lean over and inspect your face. “We have no help besides her.”

“Well, she can’t treat herself, ye fuckin’ oaf,” Soap snipped, shooing him away from your space. “Cap, she needs to get checked. She can’t even breathe properly!”

Your head began to pound from the sheer loudness that filled the room. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to will away the ache while simultaneously trying to correct your breathing.

You knew well enough that there was something shattered or broken. A rib, though small in theory, but dreadfully painful without the correct medicines. Not to mention the amount of force Graves had used—it was pure hell.

Price was silent, as was Ghost, the two of them sharing a conversation with just a look. There was an understanding shared, and Price gently shoved Gaz and Soap aside, replacing them.

He mimicked Gaz’s previous stance, leaning on the bed. His hand came to brush a stray tear away, frowning embedded in his mouth.

“Tell me what to do, dove,” he said softly. “I’ll do whatever it is.”

You sniffled, hand shaking where they rested on your side. You shook your head, nearly deranged from the shock and horror of it all, unable to snap out of it.

“I—I can’t fix it on my own, Captain,” you quivered, lips trembling. “It hurts.”

Price nearly broke, filled with guilt. He glanced behind him at Ghost, who quickly looked away, hands balling into fists.

“I know,” he assured calmly, brushing his finger along your cheek where he wiped the tear away. “We’ll fix it, aye? You just have to sit tight until we can. Can you do that for us, dove?”

Though you knew the wait would be cruel—a slow healing process until you could receive proper care—you found yourself nodding shamelessly, instantly trusting Price and his promises.

Price nodded along with you, giving your cheek a comforting pinch. “Attagirl,” he praised, calming your nerves.

“I’ll fuckin’ gut him,” Soap muttered, jaw pulled tight. “He’s fuckin’ dead.”

Gaz reached up to grip Soap’s nape, tugging at his hair. Soap threw him a glare, one Gaz promptly ignored, turning his attention to you.

“Listen to Cap, birdie,” Gaz encouraged warmly. “We’ll get you all fixed up. You won’t even know you’re hurtin’.”

Price had a look of hesitation when you caught his eye. You furrowed your eyebrows, frowning in confusion before he spoke again, causing you to grow uncomfortable.

“We need to check it first, dove,” he said apologetically. “If you don’t feel well with all of us bein’ here, you can pick who you prefer. No hard feelin’s, hm?”

The idea that one, if not all, had to see you undressed in order to inspect the damage was one that made you a bit dazed. You’d never been seen beneath your raggedy clothes in the village, and the same applied for your time on the ship. It felt sacred, like your vulnerability was on the line, but you had to remind yourself that it was purely medical—you’d done it plenty of times when in practice at your old home.

“It—it is fine, just… just turn away, yes?” you pleaded, unable to meet any of them in the eye.

You heard a round of shuffling, only seeing Gaz elbow Soap in the corner of your vision. Once you were sure they feasted their eyes upon the old wall, you began to carefully lift your hips, biting your lip to muffle the pained noise that threatened to leave.

The hem of your dress was swiftly pulled up past your thighs, all the way until your torso was exposed. You stopped it beneath your breasts, quick to tug the blanket over your nakedness that remained uninjured and in no need to be checked.

The anxiety that pooled in your stomach left you queasy, but you toughed through it, knowing how important it was. If you had more than a mere fracture, it could become worse over time.

“Okay,” you said quietly, cringing when they turned to take you in. The men did their best to make you feel as at ease as possible, gearing their focus towards the nasty swelling on your side.

You dared to take a peek yourself, fearing for why they were so quiet. What you saw was ugly—swollen and puffy, beaten to the point it was already turning purple and blue. It was tender to the touch, even more so without clothing as a barrier.

The worst was the gnarly, black veins that spouted out like roots, dipping deep into the new bruising. It was inhuman, something completely out of the ordinary. You knew it was Graves’ dirty work, and it reminded you of when Ghost had cut his finger in the kitchen and his blood turned black, vanishing into thin air.

When you shifted your eyes from your injury, you searched for Ghost’s, who was hard-stuck on the veins. His body was tense, a darkness swirling in his irises.

“Ghost?” Soap tried, nudging the brute lightly. “Any idea what that is?”

Ghost glanced over to Soap before returning to your side, taking in the sight. “Could be anythin’,” he muttered, unsure. “I don’t know what all he’s capable of. For all we know, it could already be infected.”

“Infected?” you asked, a worried chill racking through you.

Price reached out a careful hand to spread his fingertips along the veins. You choked on a gasp at the immediate discomfort, face scrunching up into a wince.

“We’re goin’ to a doctor,” Price nearly growled, taking his hand away. “I don’t care where. The moment we spot land, we’re goin’.”

“We still have bounties on our head, Cap,” Gaz reminded with a frown. “We can’t just go anywhere. It’s not the same as shoppin’. If we end up in the wrong place, we might get ourselves in deeper shit.”

“That is a risk I’m willin’ to take,” Price argued, firm in his stance. “If we start nitpickin’ where to go, it might be too late. You’re either in or out.”

The room fell silent as the men stared at their Captain. The answer to them was obvious, though you knew why they hesitated; if they were imprisoned, it would do you no good.

Emotions were high and the clock was ticking. It placed everyone on edge.

“I agree with Price.”

All heads turned to Ghost, who stood with his arms crossed, eyes boring into yours.

“It’s my fault she’s marked. So long as she gets fixed up, I could care less about bein’ thrown into a cell. I’m with Price,” he finished.

“Ghost—” you tried.

“I am quite firm in what I’ve decided,” he interrupted harshly before realizing his mistake, calming himself down. He looked away from you, crossing his arms a bit tighter. “I’m in no mood for arguments.”

You went quiet, watching Ghost turn towards the door and plot his escape. You knew out of everyone, he was affected the most, tormented with sickening guilt for all that’s transpired. You could only imagine how he felt, now that times had grown darker.

“Let him go,” Soap murmured softly, gaining your attention. “He’ll be alright. Let’s just worry ‘bout ye, aye?”

You were torn, but you nodded nonetheless, silently agreeing.

“You’ll stay with me for now,” Price explained. “No use in movin’ you anymore than I have. I’ll get you situated for now, and then you can rest.”

Gaz, Soap, and Price muttered amongst themselves, discussing a brief plan of what to do. The two set off to find more pillows to extend your comfort while Price remained by your side, plopping himself in his chair with a heavy sigh. His elbows rested on its arms, his fingers coming up to rub at his temple.

He looked exhausted, the bags under his eyes becoming more prominent the longer you looked.

“I am sorry, Captain,” you said quietly, eyes glueing to the ceiling.

“What have you got to be sorry for?” he asked, frowning. “Got nothin’ to apologize for, dove. Our worry stems from care.”

“Yes, but,” you paused, gathering the words, “I have caused much trouble since my arrival. Things only seem to be harder for you.”

“Life was hard before you, dove,” he assured, letting his hand fall from his face. “That’s the way it goes. It is to no fault but the world.”

You took in his words, letting them sink in. You hadn’t known a true life of trouble before, the only hardships being your utter loneliness and daily taunts from the local villagers. This was something beyond your knowledge, and you were beginning to understand that there was more to life than simply displeasuring people. There was more than what meets the eye, but there was also light at the end of every tunnel.

“You do not see me as a mere burden?” you asked, and he huffed.

“What have I told you before?” Price pressed in return, tilting his head. “You are one of us. A true pirate, if that is what you’d like.”

“I am far from a pirate,” you scoffed to yourself, ashamed. “I could not even defend myself or any of you.”

“Dove,” Price called out softly. He scooted his chair closer to your bedside, forcing you to turn your head and look at him. “A loss is not always a failure. Some wars are too big to handle on your own. There’s nothin’ wrong with that. Why must you speak so lowly of yourself?”

You stared at him unblinking, studying the furrow of his eyebrows and the curl of his lips, hidden beneath his beard. The worry lines on his forehead showed years of hardship, and you wondered how he managed to live through it if you could barely survive your own smaller ones.

“I have known nothing else,” you confessed bitterly, though not towards him. You were angry, not only with yourself, but at life for dealing its deck of cards in such an unfair way.

“I see,” he hummed, leaning back in his chair. He tapped his fingers along the armrests, getting lost in thought. “It was the same for me as well.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really?”

“Mhm,” he sighed, picking at the splintering wood of the armrests. “My father was a captain before me. Had the tongue of a devil. Always angry, always cold—treated me like scum, even as a child.”

“I am sorry,” you murmured quietly. Price bristled, frowning.

“That is not the point, dove,” he replied. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on the side of the bed, mere inches away from where you laid. You waited patiently for him to continue, keeping your gazes connected to show you were listening. “Some may treat you like a mutt on the street and deem your worth how they please. The only thing that matters is how you take it and how you come out of it.”

It dawned on you what he was implying. It was his way of comforting you, shielding you from your own burdening insecurities that never seemed to escape your mind.

“I could’ve remained angry and bitter, but now I captain my own ship and crew. The same applies for you—you may have experienced cruelty all your life, but you must take the reins on your own worth and decide what it is, dove.”

A blinding warmth shrouded you, like a blanket after being trapped in the icy cold, and you welcomed it with a smile. You’d never known Price to be so well with words, not int he way he was expressing now.

He knew what you needed to hear after being trapped in your own world of darkness, and he provided the light you needed to find your way out—all of them did. A glimmer of hope in a world full of loss.

“I am very thankful you kidnapped me,” you blurted, unable to contain your inner thoughts.

Price laughed, boisterous and loud, a smile washing over his face. It was a lovely sight, one that made your heart pound. Even through your pain, you found solitude in the aftermath, reaching a level of comfort you’d always wished to feel.

“I am happy to have you here despite it,” Price teased warmly. “I can say the same for the rest.”

You laughed, almost immediately regretting it at the shooting pain coursing in your side. He shot you a sympathetic smile, slowly standing from his chair.

“I will let you rest,” he said, giving you a gentle pat to your thigh over the blanket. Your heart jumped at the action, and you repressed it.

“You are not staying?” you asked, deflating.

“Soap and Gaz will be here with some more pillows soon. I must gather a plan so we can get you to a medic as soon as possible.”

It made sense, and you knew it was important. There was no telling what was flowing through the black veins, but your heart longed for more of his presence.

“Just for a moment longer?” you dared to request, voice small.

Price peered down at you from where he stood over you, a hint of surprise flashing on his expression before it softened. He nodded, reaching over to give your hand a gentle squeeze. You held on as long as you could.

“Just a moment then,” he repeated. “I will do it for you.”

You squeezed his hand in return, feeling as if you were on cloud nine. Your feelings were uncertain, but the more you spent with them, the clearer your vision became. It was an inner battle, forcing yourself to push them back in order to protect yourself. Now, though, you decided to allow yourself the comfort, just for a little while.

“Thank you,” you told him, unaware your voice had become a mere whisper. The air between you felt heavy, as if something unspoken was there.

Price glanced down at your hands that remained interlinked before shifting his gaze back at you. The gears in his mind were turning, and just as you were about to ask if it was alright, he beat you.

“I am not an emotional man,” he murmured quietly, seeming just as unsure as you were. “I make very stupid decisions and take paths I shouldn’t take. One of them is tellin’ me to kiss you, and I’m not sure if that’s alright.”

You froze in place, eyes growing wide. You were unable to look away, lost in your own little moment. Everything in you was yelling yes, yes, yes! and it was hard to ignore. You had always been weak in your feelings.

“Gaz tried to when I gifted him the telescope,” you said, unsure of why you did. “I hope that is okay.”

Price broke out into a smile, huffing out a breathy laugh. “So long as he did not beat me to it.”

You released a relieved breath, a shaky smile spreading on your lips. Price did not seem angry, and for that, you grew more enticed for a kiss. While your feelings for the others were all different in their special ways, having Price be the first was not something you could deny. It excited you more than it should.

Before you knew it, Price leaned down, capturing your lips in his own. There was no spark like you’d read in books you’d read at merchant stands when you couldn’t afford them, nor were there fireworks.

Instead, it was a calm sea that smothered you in peace, easing every worry that crowded your mind. They washed away, replaced with a warm buzz.

He was gentle, hand still grasping yours, the other coming to rest beneath your jaw. His skin was hot to the touch, rough from the callouses on his palm.

The moment wasn’t long, and when he pulled away, you wished you could reel him in for more.

“Rest,” he encouraged, his smile brighter than a thousand suns. “We’ll get you fixed up and better before you know it, alright?”

You nodded dumbly, your head empty. You were practically vibrating with excitement, the feel of his lips still tingling on yours.

He stroked his thumb over your cheekbone before pulling back, stepping away from the bed. He gave you a soft farewell, reminding you that the boys will be back soon and to try and sleep until then.

Once he was out of the room, the quiet didn’t bother you. It wasn’t maddening, driving you up a wall, suffocating you with loneliness—it was peaceful and kind, welcoming you with open arms as you slipped into unconsciousness, the images flashing behind your eyelids of the four of them in your life only bringing you true comfort after the storm.

[latin5mamii]

Can you do one with Jude just purely dirty talking to you being very mean and possessive

Yours - Jude Bellingham

|WARNINGS: smut, unprotected sex, dirty talking, possessiveness |SUMMARY: You and your boyfriend get into a fight, but there's only one way to make peace...

“He was totally flirting with you, you can’t say otherwise”

Here you were, arguing again because of your friends.Actually, if you have to say it right it wasn’t your friend’s fault,it was your boyfriend’s.

“He wasn’t flirting with me Jude.He was just being gentle!”

“Trust me, I have experience and i know that he was.I’m not a fuckin’ idiot”

“Even if he does, what do you even care about?You think I would cheat on you?”

“I’m not saying that.I just don't want to share what's mine and don't expect me to sit still when someone flirts with my fucking girlfriend!"

 He says raising his voice, you know you shouldn't push, but you do because he can't boss you around as he pleases.

"You can't just claim me like some object," you retorted, your voice shaking with a mix of anger and something deeper, something you couldn't quite name.

Jude's eyes darkened, and he pinned you against the wall, his grip firm but not painful. "You think you're so fucking hot, don't you?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "All those eyes on you. Well, guess what, princess? You're mine. Only mine.Do you understand?”

Probably never once has there been so much passion during an argument. You can feel the tension between the two of you as he waits for an answer. Little does he know that the answer you give him will not be so satisfactory.

“Really?If i’m yours show me, then”

Jude's expression hardened, a flicker of something primal in his eyes. Without another word, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer, his grip unyielding. "You want me to show you?" he snarled, his breath hot against your ear. "Fine."

He kissed you roughly, his lips crushing against yours with an intensity that took your breath away. His hands roamed your body possessively, leaving no doubt that he was claiming you. You tried to push him away, but he pinned your hands above your head, his grip ironclad.

"You like this, don't you?" he whispered harshly, his lips trailing down your neck, biting and kissing with a desperate hunger. "You like it when I'm rough with you, when I remind you who you belong to."

You moaned softly, the mix of pain and pleasure igniting a fire within you. "Jude," you gasped, your body trembling under his touch.

"You're doing this on purpose, right? You want me to get angry so I can be with you like this" His hands touch your core, already soaking wet, from the things he's telling you. Him being so hard on you makes you so horny and he knows it very well.

“Oh baby, you're already so wet, just for me” He moves your panties to the side and sticks a finger inside you, making you gasp and moan loudly. You bite your lower lip to hold back, but he grabs your chin and whispers in your ear:

"Don't do it, I want to listen to you carefully"

As soon as he says that he immediately pushes another finger inside you, you moan out loud and he smiles giving you a kiss on the head.

"You're so beautiful when you want to challenge me but you can't"

"Please Jude, I need you"

"What do you need? Tell me"

“Stop teasing me and just fuck me” He kisses you hungrily, removes his fingers from inside you and begins to unbutton his pants quickly, he certainly doesn't want to keep his princess waiting.

Soon you wrap your legs around his hips and he starts rubbing his tip at your entrance. He moans at the sensation of entering you, as if he hasn't already done it a hundred times. He doesn't want to hurt you given his size, in fact he enters slowly, holding you tightly to himself. His movements are decisive and deep, the speed increases every second that passes and the room fills with the moans of both of you.

"Look how fucking beautiful you are. All for me" He whispers in your ear.

"Oh god, Jude." He can feel you getting close to your peak and you can feel it too.

"Please come inside me, please." The thrusts become more demanding and he places his thumb on your clit to stimulate your orgasm.

The thrusts become sloppier and his moans and words make you come on his cock, the feeling of you coming with him inside makes him empty himself inside you until he fills you completely. He places you gently on the bed, your breaths begin to calm down .

“I'm yours, always.” He smiles against your lips and kisses you gently.

"This is my beautiful girl"

[scarletttries]

Baldur's Gate 3 Companions With a Shy GN!Reader...(Baldur's Gate 3 Request)

Request: " Can I request for Baldur's Gate 3 companions with shy gender neutral s/o please?"

Pairings: Astarion x Reader, Wyll Ravengard x Reader, Gale Dekarios x Reader, Shadowheart x Reader, Karlach x Reader

Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who sent in requests and has been reblogging my Baldur's Gate posts! Consider me open for any BG3 requests, let me know if you want to see more headcanons like this :)

Astarion:

- At first Astarion would find it hard to reconcile your shyness with his understanding of the way people behave. He would be suspicious of you initially, wondering why you insist on playing your cards so close to your chest. It wouldn't be until you finally warmed up to him and started to talk a bit more that he realised that this quiet tone to you is actually very endearing to him.

- When you two get together he would feel very proud to be the person you speak to the most. Astarion can be a little insecure sometimes so knowing that you choose to talk to him despite being selective with who you speak to would mean a lot to him. It would help him to trust you more too, knowing the the deep bond between you is almost a secret that you would never dare whisper to anyone else.

- Astarion loves being able to communicate with you with just a sly glance or a single whispered word, the two of you often having entire conversations without saying a word to those around you. When you need to talk your way into somewhere Astarion's always happy to do the talking, but he can't help but be impressed with the way you can navigate through a room quiet and unnoticed.

- As a partner Astarion needs more reassurance than he ever likes to show, so knowing that you'll go against your shy instincts to whisper a flirty thought or a sentimental memory to him when he starts to look worn out always boosts his spirits. He didn't know how much he needed someone just like you in his life until you became a core part of it.

Wyll:

- Wyll never shies away from the public or a spotlight, announcing himself as he enters almost any room, so when he meets someone who prefers to listen to those around them instead of interrupting, he'd become very interested in what you have to say. He'd make the effort to get to know you even if it didn't happen as naturally as sometimes other bonds have come to him, but as he worked to gain your trust and attention he'd never regret a moment of time spent getting you to warm up to him.

- When the two of you are together Wyll will never miss an opportunity to sing your praises, no matter how bashful it makes you! He needs you to know how amazing and appreciated you are, as he can never tell if you fully recognise your own brilliance.

- Wyll falls in love with the way you think before you speak, listening to every part of his story and really considering everything he tells you, never jumping to an assumption as so many people in his life have. He finds your accepting nature makes him a better man, and in return he only grows a deeper fondness for the way you carry yourself.

- As a partner Wyll always needs someone to be there for him, listening and reassuring, and he really finds that partner in you. He's never felt more loved and respected as he does when you give him the time and space to work through his feelings and history, the quiet stillness you bring to his life letting him find a peace he's never known before.

Gale:

- Gale has spent enough time studying magic at scholarly institutes to have met more than a few shy souls in his past, so when he notices you playing the shrinking violet he knows exactly how to give you all the time and space you need to finally share a bit of yourself with him.

- He knows that the most important things to hear usually come from those who don't speak unless they have something to say, and there's no exception to that in you. He really gives weight to everything you share with him, every opinion you pose, and every compliment you reward him with through flushed cheeks and nervous laughter. It only makes it that much sweeter that you don't dish out such comments absentmindedly.

- Gale also enjoys using a bit of your shyness against you, gaining a certain amount of satisfaction from being overtly flirty in public once the two of you are well into dating. He can't help but smile at the way you shy away from his loud declarations of love and the flirty comments whispered far too loudly across a tavern. His heart practically bursts when you try to hide your face in his hands when he's being far too vocal about how beautiful he finds you in front of the rest of your companions, and not a day goes by that he doesn't remind you of that fact.

- Thankfully he usually waits until you are alone to let his adoration pour out in his gentle words and touches, enjoying that while he can be a brash as he wants in public, he can feel your true appreciation in the quiet you spend alone. His life has held more than one dramatic chapter, so having someone who loves him so sweetly and mutters his name so softly when they praise him really means the world to Gale.

Shadowheart:

- More than anyone else, Shadowheart can appreciate the desire to keep parts of yourself hidden behind some firmly closed doors. She finds herself drawn to your quiet personality as the rest of the party are a bit boisterous for her taste, often favouring the seat beside you at any given campfire, knowing her boundaries will be respected, and any conversation made will be worthwhile.

- Once you two are together, she sees you as a respite from the endless questions of the outside world. The two of you can spend hours in comfortable silence together, only your interlocking fingers letting the other know you are still there. You give her the space to think through her decisions, but at the same time she knows that if you choose to speak up then she really should consider listening to what you have to say.

- Shadowheart finds herself more able to share pieces of herself with you, as you open up at the same gradual pace that she does. You don't rush to tell her everything or bombard her with questions like the others. Instead she'll often finding you waiting outside her tent at first light when she rises, offering her a hand for a quiet stroll through the forest as you softly tell her a tale from your childhood and she tries to imagine herself growing up alongside you, in a sweet version of her life she could almost convince herself is the truth.

- Shadowheart doesn't fully know her past, but with you as her partner, her future finally starts to come into focus, all because of you.

Karlach:

- Karlach has been loud and brash since the moment she could speak, so at first she thinks your shy demeanour is a sign of rejection of her friendship. It's disappointing that you don't want to talk to her, but she's not sensitive enough to worry about what every single person thinks of her. It would be endlessly frustrating to you that you have to really put yourself out there, making every effort to be by her side and forcing yourself to respond to her every remark to try and let her know you really do like her. In the end you'd just have to ask her to dance at a celebration with the rest of the group, and when she laughs and says she thought you didn't like her, please prepare yourself to tell her you like her so much that it makes it genuinely hard to talk sometimes.

- Once Karlach understands the concept of shyness and that it is not a personal affront to her, she will be very happy to do all the speaking for both of you. Every journey you take across the lands she will gladly fill the silence with every thought and tale, celebrating loudly every times she manages to make you gasp or laugh along with her.

- Karlach will take a lot of pride in the thought that you like her so much that you are almost rendered speechless, and get quite jealous when she realises you are being shy around other people too. Worried that everyone will be seduced by your strong-silent type behaviour she would definitely insist on holding your hand as much as possible, or loudly shouting across combat that you and her are an item just in case anyone was getting the wrong idea.

- While your personality might have started as a bit of a mystery to Karlach, once you two really know each other she'll come to highly value your way of carrying yourself, learning a few things about protecting herself from undue influences, while keeping herself open to the important people in her life, like you!

[sleepynoons]

kyoraku x afab!f!reader, sfw, not beta read

cw: manga spoilers

notes: ok, i lied. i am going to post another thing of writing even though i literally have to meet a hard project deadline for work. anyway, i read one (1) blurb on kyoraku by @/sirendancerx like two weeks ago, and my brain has just been thinking about this dude non-stop. this is a mini char study on kyoraku being vulnerable, so angst w/ comfort.

IT'S SUMMER in soul society. you’re sleeping soundly, back turned to him and naked shoulders reflecting the moonlight streaming into the room. somehow, the cherry blossom tree right outside is still blooming, and stray petals have managed to flit in, most likely because you’ve left the shoji wide open. very rarely do you leave the sliding door unclosed, always a little wary of potential danger and unwanted stares, but it seems he’s rubbing off on you as you’ve become more relaxed with each passing day.

you’re clutching onto one of his arms, both of your hands wrapped around his much larger one and holding it right over your heart. it’s adorable, really, how you curl in on yourself and grasp onto him. but he’s also aware that, even in your sleep, you’re worried that he’ll leave, disappear by the morning light and abandon the life the two of you’ve shared, as if it was all just a lucid, transient dream. you’ll make yourself so small so you don’t inconvenience him in any way, so there’s no reason for him to throw you away.

shunsui knows he’s a coward.

he can rationalize all he wants. how it’s absurd that you’re still scared when the two of you’ve been together for years, how there’s no need to be worried because soul society is entering an era of peace, how you’re both adults and should act like it.

but then he’d be a total hypocrite, wouldn’t he?

because he’s the one not acting his age. all these years, and he hasn’t grown up.

in truth, he’d do anything to quell your fears. he’d marry you, retire, devote his entire life to ensuring your happiness. but he can’t bring himself to because there’s always the slightest chance that you’d wind up unhappy with him.

realistically, he can’t relinquish his title and responsibility as the commander of the gotei 13. if there’s anything he’s learned from these long years of battling, it’s that the divisions were too complacent and missed several opportunities to address danger early on. but that means he’d still have to fight, and he wouldn’t want to leave you a widow if he were to die.

but that’s not exactly it. really, his most deep-seated fear is the possibility that you’d fall out of love with him.

how ironic.

you’ve given him so much love, kindness, and care – but you’re no giving tree. and he won’t allow himself to forget that.

if anything, he pities himself. he’s checkmated himself, deadlocked between his own fear of abandonment and his unwillingness to do something about it. at his core, he’s no different from his younger, irresponsible self.

but something nanao told him during their battle against lille barro jolts him out of his wallowing.

is that truly for my sake? she had said to him after he confessed he had withheld her zanpakuto to prevent her from falling victim to the ise household’s curse.

as with you… is it truly for your sake?

he sighs, one of relief, determination, and fondness. he’ll have to treat his niece to a good meal.

he places a chaste kiss on your temple, and you stir.

“shun…,” you mumble, tone drowsy and exhausted.

“it’s still early,” he coos. 

you whine, stretching a little, before turning over so your face is now buried in his chest. 

“why are you still awake?” you grumble. he already knows you’re falling back asleep, with the way you’re breathing deeply again, but he chuckles at your attempt to stay conscious regardless.

he simply runs his fingers over the back of your head, caressing and savoring the closeness of you to him.

one day, he’ll make you the happiest person in the world. and that day doesn’t seem too far off.

[actuallysaiyan]

She Keeps It Pumping Straight To My Heart(Vergil x Fem!Reader)

warnings: mentions of having a baby, Vergil is needy, smut, creampies, unprotected sex, mentions of breeding word count: 0.9k pairings: Post DMC5!Vergil x Fem!Reader a/n: This just kind of popped into my brain! Hope you enjoy!

He shouldn’t want this. Not at his age or with the way things have gone in his life. Even with the way things ended up with his first son, Vergil knows that having another child might be the wrong idea. This nagging sensation deep inside of him lately makes him think that you could be the right person to have this with.

Even Dante and Nero notice a change in Vergil. He’s less abrasive, less angry. They even see a smile on his face, which makes them both feel very much at ease. They know that Vergil needs to know real peace, and you are the one to bring it to him.

This all culminates one night into something so passionate and loving. With the two of you freshly showered and now lying in bed, in crisp fresh sheets, you are caressing one another. Sweet, loving kisses are shared.

“What’s gotten into you lately?” you ask, a smirk on your face.

Vergil chuckles, “Ah, so you’ve noticed it as well.”

He then maneuvers you both so that he’s on top of you, your legs spread for him. Still, his kisses are gentle and loving, but you can feel the heat growing in them. He grunts softly as he ruts against you, his cock becoming unbearably hard.

“We’ve been together for quite some time, yes?” he wonders out loud.

“Yeah, almost two years now.”

The words that come from your pretty lips both excite and warm his heart. He never knew he could have a love so pure and so tender for this long. Even at the beginning of your relationship, Vergil thought he’d fuck it up somehow and lose you forever. But you proved to be resilient and determined. You loved him for who he was and you weren’t just going to abandon him. Vergil meant everything to you, especially after he saved your life from a horde of evil devils.

Vergil breathes, “I think…I think I want another baby,”

You giggle nervously, “Another baby? But you only met your son when he was an—”

He interrupts you with another kiss, “You’ll give me a baby, won’t you?”

Your heart skips a beat. How are you supposed to deny such a request? You stutter out the word “yes”, but you nod as well to let him know you’re more than interested. With your arms around his neck, he moves you into a more comfortable position.

“Just the thought of carrying my seed must excite you,” Vergil comments as he uses the tip of his cock to smear your arousal all over your tight hole. “You’re already so wet,”

He continues his teasing for a while, making sure to tap the tip of his cock against your swollen clit. You never thought you’d get to this point in your life, but you cannot deny the fact that having a child with Vergil would be amazing. The thought of making a baby is exciting too.

He captures your lips in a kiss as he presses himself into you. You’re both panting and moaning as he bottoms out, leaving you both a little fucked out already. Vergil smirks when he realizes this is actually going to happen. You’re going to be carrying his child.

Your hands soothe up and down his back as he starts a slow pace, getting you both used to these sensations. Vergil finds it hard to not blow his load from the beginning, as he always gets so over excited to make love to you. He takes a deep breath before pressing your legs to your chest which places you in the perfect mating position.

“You will carry my seed in your womb,” Vergil says, his voice full of need and lust.

“Yes, yes! Please, Vergil!” You cry out, his cock bullying the sweet spot so deep inside of you.

His hand traces down your chest to your core, rubbing the swollen clit that’s just begging for attention. Your eyes screw shut as he begins pounding into you, making you feel that familiar tightening in your stomach. Your cries of love and ecstasy begin echoing off the walls.

“That’s it, sparrow,” he coos at you. “Milk my cock. Be a good girl and milk my cock,”

His words arouse you as much as they surprise you. He’s not usually one to talk filthy like this, and it’s just fueling your fire even more. It takes but only a few more thrusts to send you over the edge.

Tears slip down your cheeks at the intense pleasure. Your spongy walls squeeze and contract around his throbbing cock, milking him for his warm and thick seed. He’s grunting and growling, his voice sounding almost distorted. And with a passionate and hungry kiss, Vergil spills himself so deep inside your pulsing walls.

The two of you continue to grind against one another, riding out the remnants of what is the most intense orgasm you’ve both felt in forever. And when Vergil pulls away, you almost think he’s going to get up to get you something to drink. It’s just that the sight of his thick cum running out of your puffy cunt sends him into a frenzy.

You cry out as he slams himself back into you, clearly not done.

“I said I wanted to have another baby,” Vergil huffs as he fucks himself into you. “And we are going to have another baby.”

[fr0stf4ll]

Forge of Starlight - Part 9 

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; In the heart of Velaris, a skilled blacksmith's quiet life is turned upside down when unexpected bonds begin to form with the enigmatic Spymaster of the Night Court. As she navigates the challenges of her craft and the complexities of newfound relationships, she discovers that love and loyalty may be the strongest forces of all in a world where darkness often lingers just beyond the light.

word count ; 4k

warning; fight, mention of death, mention of blood, death.

notes; at the end ;)

here is the link for part 8 or part 10

---

The rest by the fire had been brief, a stolen moment of peace in the midst of a storm. With the morning light just beginning to filter through the trees, you and Azriel resumed your search, the urgency of the mission driving you forward. The forest was quiet, too quiet, and the weight of the unknown pressed down on you like a suffocating shroud.

Azriel’s shadows swirled around him, more active than usual, their whispers almost audible as they communicated with him. He walked beside you, his posture tense, every sense on high alert. You could feel it too—the growing sense of unease, the feeling that something was horribly wrong.

Azriel suddenly stopped, his hand gripping your arm as his shadows seemed to surge around him, coiling tightly as if in warning. “My shadows are picking up movement ahead. A group of people. We’re getting close.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, fear and determination battling within you. You nodded, your grip tightening on your swords. “We need to be careful, Az. This feels… off.”

He looked at you, his expression dark and serious. “It does. Stay close to me. Whatever happens, we face it together.”

You nodded, but even as you said the words, a strange feeling began to creep over you—something deep inside, a cold dread that had nothing to do with the approaching danger. It was as if the very core of your being was reacting to what lay ahead, a warning from the power that you had kept hidden for so long.

As you moved forward, the trees began to thin, revealing a clearing ahead. The shadows darkened, and the air grew colder, the smell of damp earth and something else—something metallic—filling your senses.

And then you saw them.

A group of figures stood in the clearing, their faces hidden by dark hoods. But it was the man standing at the center who caught your attention—the same man who had come to your shop with the mysterious order, the man whose presence had set off a chain of events that now led you here.

He was waiting for you, his stance relaxed, almost casual, as if he had been expecting this moment all along. His gaze locked onto yours, a cold smile curving his lips.

“Welcome, Y/N,” he said, his voice smooth and unhurried. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

Azriel moved closer, his hand hovering protectively near his blade, his shadows swirling with anticipation. “What is this?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

The man tilted his head slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. “This, shadow singer, is the culmination of a plan that has been in motion for a very long time. You see, Y/N, this was always about you. The weapon… it was meant for you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your mind racing as you tried to make sense of his words. “What are you talking about?”

The man’s smile widened, a cruel edge to it now. “The power inside you, Y/N. The flames that you’ve kept hidden, the power that you’ve tried to suppress, the phoenix—it’s not meant for you alone. It was never meant to be kept by one person.”

Azriel’s grip on his blade tightened, his gaze narrowing. “You want to take her power?”

The man’s eyes gleamed with something dark, something hungry. “Yes. The weapon I requested was to extract it, to take that power and use it as it was intended—to control it, to harness it.”

The words hit you like a blow, the truth of them resonating deep within you. You had always known that your power was different, that it was something more than just a gift of healing. But you had never understood the full extent of what it was—or what it could become in the wrong hands.

“You can’t have it,” you said, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and fury. “I won’t let you take it.”

The man’s smile turned mocking, his gaze flicking to the others around him. “You don’t have a choice, Y/N. You were never meant to have this power in the first place. It’s time to set things right.”

And with that, the fight began.

The attackers moved swiftly, their weapons drawn as they closed in on you and Azriel. But this time, you didn’t hold back. The fear, the anger, the desperation—they all surged within you, fueling the flames that burned deep in your core.

With a fierce cry, you unleashed your power, the blue flames roaring to life around you. They danced along your skin, leaping from your hands like living fire, consuming everything in their path. The attackers recoiled in shock, their weapons faltering as they were met with the full force of your power.

Azriel fought beside you, his blades cutting through the air with lethal precision, but even he seemed momentarily taken aback by the sheer intensity of the flames. You were a force of nature, your power a blazing inferno that threatened to consume everything in its wake.

The man at the center watched with a dark satisfaction, his eyes gleaming as if this was exactly what he had hoped for. “Yes… that’s it, Y/N. Embrace it. Feel its power.”

But you didn’t care about his words. All you cared about was ending this, about saving Alex and stopping these monsters from taking what was yours.

The fight was brutal, the clearing filled with the sounds of clashing steel and the roar of your flames. The attackers were skilled, but they were no match for you and Azriel. One by one, they fell, their bodies consumed by the fire that raged from your very soul.

But even as you fought, you could feel the strain of your power, the way it threatened to overwhelm you. The flames were wild, untamed, and with each passing moment, it became harder to control them.

Azriel noticed your struggle, his eyes flicking to you with concern even as he parried another strike. “Y/N, you need to be careful!”

But there was no time to be careful. The flames were a part of you, and they demanded to be unleashed.

With a final, desperate surge, you directed the flames toward the man who had started it all. He stood his ground, his eyes locked on yours, a twisted smile on his lips as the fire engulfed him.

But instead of being consumed, the flames seemed to pass through him, as if he were made of smoke and shadow. His laughter echoed through the clearing, cold and cruel.

“You can’t destroy me, Y/N. I’m a part of you, just as that power is. This isn’t over.”

And then, as quickly as he had appeared, he was gone, vanishing into the shadows like a wisp of smoke.

The clearing fell silent, the last of the attackers lying motionless on the ground. You stood there, your breath coming in ragged gasps, the flames slowly dying down as the reality of what had just happened began to sink in.

Azriel was at your side in an instant, his hands steady as he reached out to you. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, but the truth was, you didn’t know. Everything you had just learned, everything you had just felt—it was too much, too overwhelming.

“He was trying to take my power,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “He… he said it wasn’t meant for me. That it was supposed to be for something else.”

Azriel’s grip on you tightened, his eyes fierce. “Whatever he’s after, we’ll stop him. But right now, we need to find Alex.”

You nodded, the urgency of the situation crashing back over you. There was no time to dwell on the darkness that had been revealed. Alex was still out there, and he needed you.

Together, you and Azriel began to move through the clearing, your steps determined as you pushed forward, deeper into the forest, toward whatever lay ahead.

But in the back of your mind, the man’s words echoed, a chilling reminder of the power that burned within you, and the shadowy forces that sought to claim it.

The clearing where you had fought was eerily silent now, the only sound the crackling of dying flames as they consumed the last remnants of your enemies. The bodies of those who had attacked you lay scattered across the ground, their lifeless forms a stark reminder of the danger that still loomed over you. But there was no time to linger, no time to dwell on the bloodshed. Alex was still out there, somewhere in the darkness, and every second that passed felt like an eternity.

Azriel’s shadows, which had been so fiercely active during the battle, now swirled around him with a newfound urgency, their tendrils reaching out as if searching for something—someone. His face was set in grim determination, his eyes scanning the area as the two of you moved deeper into the forest.

“We need to keep moving,” Azriel said, his voice tight with controlled emotion. “There’s a chance they’ve taken him further into the woods, or they could have hidden him somewhere nearby.”

You nodded, gripping the hilts of your swords tightly as you followed him, every muscle in your body tense and ready for another fight. The forest was dense, the trees towering above you like silent sentinels, their branches intertwining to form a dark, shadowy canopy that blocked out much of the light.

As you pushed forward, you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had settled in your chest. The man’s words echoed in your mind, his cruel smile etched into your memory. He had known you would come, had been expecting you—and that realization gnawed at you like a persistent, unwelcome thought.

Your power, the blue flames that had always been a part of you, had never felt so dangerous, so out of control. The way they had surged during the fight, the way they had nearly overwhelmed you—it was as if they were responding to something deep within you, something that was tied to the very essence of who you were.

But there was no time to think about that now. Alex needed you, and you couldn’t afford to lose focus.

“Anything?” you asked, your voice strained as you glanced at Azriel.

He shook his head, frustration flickering in his eyes. “Nothing yet. But my shadows are restless. They’re picking up traces of something… I just can’t tell what it is.”

You pressed your lips together, trying to push back the rising tide of fear that threatened to consume you. The forest was vast, and the shadows seemed to stretch on forever, offering no clues, no signs of where Alex might be.

You moved silently through the underbrush, your steps light and careful as you searched for any trace of the boy who had become so dear to you. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves or the distant call of a nightbird.

But then, as you rounded a bend in the forest, you felt it—a faint pulse, like a whisper in the back of your mind. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was there, tugging at the edges of your consciousness.

You stopped in your tracks, your breath catching as the feeling grew stronger, more insistent. It was the same sensation you had felt before, during the battle, when your power had surged uncontrollably. But now it was different—focused, directed.

“Azriel,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I think… I think I can sense something.”

He turned to you, his expression sharpening as he caught the change in your demeanor. “What is it?”

You closed your eyes, focusing on the sensation, letting it guide you. It was like a thread, thin and fragile, leading you deeper into the forest. “This way,��� you said, your voice steadier now as you began to move in the direction the feeling was pulling you.

Azriel fell into step beside you, his shadows flaring around him as if they, too, could sense what you were feeling. The air grew colder as you pushed forward, the trees growing thicker, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers.

And then you saw it—a faint glow, just ahead, barely visible through the dense foliage. It was faint, but unmistakable—a soft, bluish light that pulsed gently, like the heartbeat of the forest itself.

You exchanged a glance with Azriel, your heart pounding in your chest as you both moved closer. The glow grew brighter as you approached, and soon you found yourself standing at the edge of a small, hidden glade, the light emanating from a cluster of stones arranged in a rough circle.

But there was no sign of Alex.

Your heart sank, disappointment and fear washing over you in equal measure. The glow, while mysterious, offered no immediate answers, no indication of where he might be.

But you couldn’t give up, not now. Not when you were so close.

Azriel’s hand rested on your shoulder, his touch grounding you as he spoke. “This might be connected to your power. We need to figure out what this is—what it means.”

You nodded, swallowing hard as you stepped into the glade, the soft light bathing you in its eerie glow. The stones were ancient, their surfaces worn smooth by time, but the air around them buzzed with a faint energy, as if they were alive with the power they had absorbed over the centuries.

The feeling inside you grew stronger, more insistent, and as you reached out to touch one of the stones, the blue flames flickered to life along your fingertips, responding to the energy that pulsed within the earth.

And in that moment, you understood.

This place, this glade—it was a focal point, a convergence of power, tied to the very essence of the land. The energy here was connected to you, to the flames that had always been a part of you. It was as if the earth itself was calling to you, resonating with the power you carried within.

But there was more—something hidden, something buried deep within the stones, within the earth itself.

You closed your eyes, letting the flames guide you as you reached deeper, past the physical, into the very fabric of the world. And then, like a sudden flash of lightning, you saw it—a vision, fleeting but clear.

Alex, bound and unconscious, his small form huddled at the base of one of the stones. He was alive, but barely. The man from the clearing stood over him, his smile cruel as he whispered words of power, words that resonated with the energy of the glade.

And then the vision was gone, leaving you gasping, your hands trembling as you pulled back from the stone.

“Y/N,” Azriel’s voice was urgent, filled with concern as he knelt beside you. “What did you see?”

You met his gaze, your voice shaking as you spoke. “They’re using this place… to drain him, to take what’s left of his life. We have to find him. We’re running out of time.”

Azriel’s expression hardened, his shadows flaring with a newfound intensity. “Then we’ll tear this forest apart if we have to. We won’t leave without him.”

With renewed determination, the two of you pressed on, the urgency of the situation propelling you forward. You knew now that this was all connected to the power within you, the power that the man had spoken of—the power that they sought to claim.

But you wouldn’t let them. You couldn’t.

And as the light of the glade faded behind you, you knew that the final confrontation was drawing near. The stakes had never been higher, and the cost of failure would be more than you could bear.

But you were ready to face it, ready to fight with everything you had.

For Alex.

For the power that was yours.

For the future that still lay ahead.

The forest seemed to close in around you as you and Azriel followed the trail of energy that pulsed through the earth, guiding you deeper into the shadows. Every step felt like a lifetime, the weight of the urgency pressing down on you with an unbearable intensity. The vision of Alex, bound and helpless, was burned into your mind, driving you forward with a desperation that bordered on madness.

You could feel the power growing stronger, the pulse of the glade’s energy resonating within you as you neared your destination. The trees thinned, the darkness deepening until it felt like the night itself was pressing against your skin. And then, through the tangled branches and dense underbrush, you saw it—a faint, flickering light, barely visible through the gloom.

Azriel’s shadows surged around him as he moved ahead, his blades drawn, ready for whatever awaited. You followed, your heart pounding in your chest as you pushed through the last of the trees and into a small, hidden clearing.

There, in the center of the clearing, was Alexander.

He was bound to one of the ancient stones, his small body slumped forward, his head hanging low as if he were unconscious. The soft, blue glow of the glade’s energy pulsed around him, a cruel mockery of the life that was slipping away from him with every passing second.

The man from the clearing stood over him, his cruel smile gone, replaced by a look of cold satisfaction. He didn’t even flinch as you and Azriel burst into the clearing, his eyes locking onto yours with a chilling certainty.

“You’re too late,” he said, his voice calm, almost indifferent. “The ritual is nearly complete. The boy’s life force will feed the power that should have been yours.”

Rage unlike anything you had ever felt surged through you, the flames roaring to life around your hands, brighter and more intense than ever before. “Get away from him!” you screamed, the flames flaring outward, sending a wave of heat crashing through the clearing.

Azriel moved to attack, his shadows lashing out with deadly precision, but the man was ready. With a wave of his hand, a barrier of dark energy sprang up, deflecting the shadows and pushing you both back.

“No!” you cried, your voice breaking as you tried to push forward, tried to reach Alex. But the barrier held firm, the dark energy crackling with malevolent power.

The man’s smile returned, a twisted, mocking grin. “This power was never meant for you, Y/N. It’s too dangerous, too wild. But with the boy’s life force, it can be controlled, harnessed. And you will be free of it.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, panic and desperation clawing at you as you tried to break through the barrier. The flames danced around you, wild and uncontrollable, but the barrier remained unyielding.

And then, in a moment of pure, blinding rage, you unleashed everything.

The flames surged, a torrent of blue fire that crashed against the barrier with a force that shook the earth. The energy crackled, the barrier faltering for a moment under the sheer intensity of your power.

But it was too late.

The ritual was complete.

The dark energy surrounding the stone flared, a final burst of power that shot through Alex’s small form like a bolt of lightning. His body jerked, a strangled gasp escaping his lips as his eyes fluttered open, just for a moment.

Azriel had been fighting beside you, the darkness of the forest closing in around him as the battle raged. His blades had sung through the air, his shadows twisting and writhing like living entities, seeking out the enemies that surrounded you both. He had been prepared for anything—anything but this.

The moment he saw the clearing, his heart had dropped. The man who had haunted your recent days stood over Alex’s frail, bound form, and every instinct in Azriel screamed to rush forward, to tear the man apart and rescue the boy. But the barrier of dark energy that crackled to life between you and your enemies held him back, keeping him from reaching you.

Azriel’s shadows lashed out, trying to find a way through, but the barrier deflected them, pushing him back as if mocking his efforts. The anger, the helplessness, all swirled inside him, a storm of emotions that he could barely control. He could see you, your face twisted in fear and fury as you tried to break through the barrier with your flames, the blue fire roaring around you like a living force.

But it wasn’t enough.

He watched, heart pounding, as the ritual continued, the dark energy pulsing through Alex’s small body. Azriel could see the life force being drained from him, could see the way his fragile form shuddered under the weight of the power that was being ripped from him.

And then, with a final surge, you broke through. The barrier shattered under the force of your flames, and you were beside Alex in an instant, cradling his small body in your arms. Azriel moved to follow, but something in the air—something in the very essence of the forest—stopped him cold.

He stood there, on the edge of the clearing, his shadows swirling around him in agitation as he watched you hold Alex close. He could see the desperation in your eyes, the way your hands trembled as you tried to summon the flames that had always been there for you, the flames that had always healed.

But they wouldn’t come.

Azriel’s heart twisted painfully as he realized what was happening. The ritual, whatever it was, had drained the power from the glade, from the very earth itself. The flames that had always been a part of you were gone, leaving you defenceless, helpless, as you held the boy you had sworn to protect.

“Y/N…” Azriel whispered, but his voice was lost in the wind, carried away by the darkness that surrounded you both.

And then Alex spoke, his voice weak, barely more than a whisper. “I’m sorry… I won’t be there… for your wedding… with Azriel.”

The words hit Azriel like a physical blow, the weight of them crashing over him as he stood frozen, unable to move, unable to breathe. He could see the pain in your eyes, the way your tears fell onto Alex’s pale face as you tried to comfort him, tried to reassure him that he would be there, that everything would be alright.

But Azriel knew the truth.

The boy was dying.

And then it happened.

The bond snapped into place with a force that took Azriel’s breath away. It was like a thunderclap in his mind, a sudden, overwhelming rush of emotion and sensation that left him reeling. He felt it in every fiber of his being, a connection so deep, so profound, that it was as if the very fabric of his soul had been intertwined with yours.

The bond pulsed through him, raw and powerful, and with it came the crushing realisation that you were his mate. You were the one he was destined to be with, the one he had been searching for his entire life. And yet, in that moment, as he looked at you holding Alex’s lifeless body, he felt nothing but pain.

It was unbearable, the way the bond twisted inside him, demanding that he move, that he comfort you, that he do something—anything—to ease the agony he could see etched into every line of your face. But he couldn’t move. He was paralyzed, rooted to the spot by the shock of the bond, by the sight of you in your worst moment, a moment that he was powerless to stop.

He wanted to reach out, to take you into his arms, to tell you that it would be alright, that he was here, that he would always be here. But the words wouldn’t come. They were stuck in his throat, choked off by the crushing weight of the bond that had snapped into place far too late.

And you didn’t feel it. He could see that in the way your eyes were glazed with grief, in the way you held Alex close, as if by sheer will alone you could bring him back. The bond was there, burning through Azriel with a force that was almost unbearable, but you were too lost in your sorrow to recognize it, too overwhelmed by the loss of the boy you had loved like a brother, like a son.

Azriel could do nothing but watch, his heart breaking as he saw you in this state, the woman he was bound to, the woman who was his mate, cradling the dead body of a child who had been your world. It was as if the ground had been ripped out from under him, leaving him falling, spiraling into a darkness that he couldn’t escape.

He was supposed to protect you, supposed to be your partner, your equal, but in this moment, he felt like nothing more than a bystander, watching helplessly as the woman he loved was torn apart by grief.

The shadows around him flickered, faltered, as if reflecting the turmoil inside him. The bond pulsed again, demanding that he move, that he act, but he was frozen, unable to do anything but stand there, his heart shattering with every sob that wracked your body.

He wanted to scream, to tear the world apart, to bring Alexander back if only to see you smile again. But there was nothing he could do, nothing that would bring the light back into your eyes, nothing that could undo the damage that had been done.

And so he stood there, helpless, broken, as the bond that tied him to you pulsed through him with every beat of his heart—a cruel reminder of the love that had come too late.

---

notes: pretty hard chapter for me to write, but I feel like it was something that had to happen for the overall story. After writing the part 9, I was honestly heart broken... I still hope that you enjoy this part, we have 5 more (+ epilogue) to do until the end of the story. If you guys have any request don't hesitate ;) See you soon <3

tag list: @annamariereads16 @hanatsuki-hime @elsie-bells @shizukestar @rose-girls-world @brit-broskis-cole-fanfic @faridathefairy @elsie-bells @faridathefairy @wolfbc97 @rcarbo1 @kitsunetori @hufflepuff-pa55 @proclivity-for-fantasy-97 @sometimeseverythingsucks @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @angel-graces-world-of-chaos @lilah-asteria @fightmedraco

don't hesitate to comment if you want to be added to the tag list ;)))

[pennyellee]

CHAPTER II - sponsalia

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU

pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au

summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.

Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.

chapter warnings: minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, yandere, kidnapping, mentions of God, mention of drugs, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behaviour, angst, mentions of death, overwhelming, violence, sexual tension

beta read by @chaoticpuff17

word count: 6,7K

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

m.list CHAPTER I CHAPTER III

sponsalia (n.) engagement

The heavy rain casts a hazy veil over the world around her and the sound of them reminds her of the storm that rages within. The last memory is coming through the light once she opens her eyes and sees, now, familiar surroundings. Lost and trapped. She wishes this to be only a mere nightmare she will wake up from. Her voice sore and barely audible, she whispers into the quiet room illuminated by the fire from the fireplace, “Why did you let this happen, my lord?” Knowing deep down that her question will remain unanswered, she longs for just one response—

“A twist of fate, perhaps, my little dove.”

She does not dare to turn herself to the voice, never before feeling such overwhelming fear. Her heart aches with sadness and is reigned by fear and perhaps a tinge of disappointment at her inability to escape and flee the spars of this world.

“No courage now? You displayed enough when you injured one of my men,” he chuckles with a sly grin, thoroughly intrigued by the woman lying in his bed.

“Is he alright?” She rises from the bed, unaware that every word she utters draws him even deeper.

“Are you concerned for his well-being or worried that this sin will lead you to hell?” He arches an eyebrow, curiously expecting her answer.

Lowering her gaze to her trembling hands, she stammers, “I didn’t mean to hurt him. I just needed to get away.”

‘A pure soul,’ he contemplates silently. This very woman might just be his endgame. He is determined but wishes to interrogate more. Seizing the opportunity when her guard momentarily falters, he taunts.

“Get away from me? Or was there something else, darling?” He knows he knows it all and a lot more, yet he is so intrigued to hear it from her.

“Can I leave?”

“No, —” he said quickly “—I asked you a question.”

“Why can’t I leave?” Y/N asked again, more determined to get a real answer once she started to feel an epiphany about her situation.

“Why would you want to leave?” he counters.

And for once, she started to think strongly about what awaits her once she leaves. Apart from her oppressive home, where punishment or death looms, she has nowhere else to go. Y/N failed to get away.

“Are you from the Yakuza?” she mutters, finally realising he never disclosed his identity.

“Min Yoongi,” he simply uttered his name, knowing it will answer her question. Her pupils are dilated, and her breathing gets shallow.

“Will you answer my question…. Y/N?”

Her heart races, desperately trying to regain control of her breath, but her mind remains scattered. Min. His name echoes in her mind. He stands before her, the man her father would never make peace with. It always comes down to two choices — either they strike a deal or engage in a bloody war, murdering each other’s men. Here he is, right in front of her. She has fallen into the arms of the enemy. Not only will her father punish her for running away, but now she also faces another punishment for being caught by an enemy.

“It seems there is a lot on your mind now, darling. Let me alleviate some of your burdens,” he says standing up from the low armchair by the fireplace, walking towards the bed. Her instincts urge her to retreat, her eyes welling up with tears of sorrow and fear.

“Don’t be afraid of me. If you play your cards right and obey, I promise nothing will happen to you, my love,” he murmurs, using a term of endearment that catches her attention.

“That’s it, baby. Breathe and calm down,” he whispers soothingly.

She locks eyes with him, drawn into their depths, a place where few dare to venture. Nobody dares to look directly into the leader’s eyes. She, even in this state, does so.

“Your father can’t punish you no more. You can find the freedom you seek by my side,” he says, his gaze fixed on her, memorizing every detail.

“What do you mean?” She asks with a newfound venom in her voice.

“You think I would allow your old man to marry you off to Yamamoto’s retarded excuse of a son and assure Tokyo’s alliance with Hong Kong?” He laughs.

“Heaven sent you to me, my love.” he continues, a sickly chuckle escaping his lips.

“And if you’re wondering how it benefits me to have you here, darling, I believe you’re smart enough to figure it out.”

She realises that if she refuses to marry the yakuza boy, the alliance will crumble, and her father will lose leverage against Seoul and the Mins who reign here. Y/N didn’t plan to marry a Yakuza man nonetheless, but she for sure never planned to stay in the middle of the chess board.

“I must admit, I found it admirable that you’ve managed to run away from China, through Luen’s north side, to our territory in the south, very brave,” he points out, acknowledging her efforts. “—and get to Jeju, right to Chan-yeol—” he says.

“You made it so easy for me. Thank you for that.” There is a hint of pleasure in his voice when he continues to speak.

“I bet your Sire didn’t expect that at all,” he grins. “You have a fire in you, my dear, —” he focuses back on her, “—and I cannot wait to tame you,” his voice shifting from casual to intimidating.

“You will make a fine wife,” Yoongi states.

“I’ll be no one’s wife. You must think me a fool if you believe I’ll marry you or anyone else from your circus,” she spits out defiantly. He stares at her silently.

“Careful,” he finally warns, surprising her with his calm demeanour. To get or inherit the position of leader, one must possess the patience of steel and a wise, calculating mind. All this and more, is embodied in the young leader, Min.

“I have my ways to persuade you that I’m the best thing that ever happened to you. You’ll realise that along the way,” he says, seemingly playing with her mind. ’Lord, please, you must have mistaken me for someone else,’ she silently prays.

“Care to elaborate?” she dares to ask.

“Your little cousin and her husband, and their little adorable son —” he trails off.

“You wouldn’t,” she quickly interrupts him.

“Oh, I would, darling. And even more. What about your sister, hmm? Isn’t she turning eighteen soon? My right-hand man is ready to take a wife...” he taunts.

“You cannot play with lives! Not with mine or others —” she snaps.

“Yes, I can, my little butterfly—” he says, gripping her chin forcefully and bringing her closer to his face, locking eyes with her.

“People follow me and worship me as if I were a god. My wife won’t be excluded. Or do you wish for bloodshed and potential homicide?” he mocks.

“Be grateful I saved you from that imbecile you were supposed to marry,” he adds, releasing her chin as she immediately rubs the numb spot with teary eyes.

“After all, you’ve just become a peace offering, my dear. God has a plan, and we shall obey the lord,” he asserts. She raises her eyes back to him, the tension between them palpable, amplified by the continuing rain outside, playing its role in the orchestra of her sorrow.

“You don’t have a choice, darling,” he declares, his words stinging her soul as they hang in the air.

“Either you stay under my protection, be a good girl, marry me, and obey, or I’ll deal with your clan brutally,” he states, rising from the bed and walking toward the door.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to negotiate the terms with your old man.”

“Get more rest.” He looked at her for the last time and closed the door behind him. A click of the lock follows. Only now, she allowed herself to cry out loud.

’You said that if I’ll help myself, lord will help me too.’ She cried, desperately. Run away from the oppressed life of a future mafia wife, just to get even closer to marriage and marital duties, autonomy out of reach.

The overwhelming sense of loneliness and fear of an uncertain future weighs heavily on her. Would it be easier to go back home, and get beaten up and punished? Or would it be easier to stay and accept she will never get away from this life?

There is something she sees in his eyes, but she cannot figure out what it is. She’s exhausted from the run, from all the thinking and future battles she will have to participate in. Her eyes are slowly closing, and her consciousness is failing her again.

“Good morning, Buin,” a voice called out, causing her to squint her eyes from the sudden stream of light entering the room. Grumbling, she pulled the blanket up higher to shield herself.

“Doctor Kim will pay you a visit today, Buin.” the voice continued, and her eyes snapped open. Reality set in, and she realized this wasn’t just a bad dream — she wasn’t home.

“A doctor?” She said, successfully ignoring how she called her the lady of the house.

“Sajangnim requested that we draw you a bath so you can relax and clean yourself,” the little lady replied with a big smile, clearly infatuated with her “Sajangnim”. Rolling her eyes at the maid’s innocence, she welcomed the suggestion of a bath. This westernised hanok must have a bathing room hidden somewhere in its wooden maze. Accepting the white hanfu offered to her, she eagerly anticipated the chance to have her long hair washed. It had become a tangled mess after days of neglect. Maybe she would finally be able to wear her hair down, something she had never been allowed to do before. Her scalp was always sore from the numerous hairpins and clips used to hold her hair in the complicated styles she despised. And perhaps, she could even cut her hair.

“We’re here, Buin,” the maid interrupted her thoughts, leading her to a wooden door that swung open. The sight of a bathroom in a house, a luxury reserved for urban dwellers, reflected the wealth of the syndicate.

She entered the room, and the maid closed the door from inside. The water was already in the large wooden bathtub, steaming hot, beckoning her to submerge herself. It was spacious enough for her to float on the surface if she wanted to. The maid prepared her soaps and other hygiene products. She will clean herself as she graciously declined her help.

“Sajangnim said that if you were to resist his hospitality and commands he gave us, he shall come and help you himself.” The girl said with no emotion in her voice. She memorised it by heart.

“You can tell Sajangnim to stay put,” she muttered in response.

“Buin—” the girl attempted again but Y/N waved her off. She didn’t want to treat the poor girl in this mean manner, but she desired an alone time.

“Please…just wait outside.” Y/N pleaded. Reluctantly, the girl obliged, but she was certain she would report back to her master in a heartbeat. Besides, Y/N had nowhere to escape within the confines of this room.

She shed the lightweight hanfu and slowly lowered herself into the steaming water, feeling her muscles gradually relax. At least for a moment, her mind started to ease the running thoughts, calming the storm down.

Until she heard his voice. Her body immediately tensed up. She strained to listen to the conversation — or rather, the series of commands directed at the poor gal.

“Doctor Kim has arrived, make sure she is ready in the master bedroom in fifteen minutes. Tell the staff to prepare lunch for us in the garden after.” His voice was gone after this, and a soft knock followed. 

“Buin—” the maid’s voice called softly, and by that time, Y/N was already hurriedly putting the hanfu back on.

“I’m coming,” she sighed.

She stopped the servant girl once she wanted to put her hair up in a bun. Now back in the room, sitting in a closet the devil managed to obtain for her as if he knew she will come. It was full of beautiful qipao’s but also some Korean hanboks and even some traditional Chinese beizis if she wanted to get more comfortable presumably. Among them, she noticed some lingerie, which internally made her nauseous with anxiety. Her hair was longer than she remembered, as she rarely wore it down.

“I suggest you keep the hanfu while Doctor Kim is here and then we shall clothe you in a dress.” To say she was scared and nervous about what this Doctor Kim will want to see or do was understandable.

“Here she is!” A loud and cheery voice echoed in the bedroom. “You caused quite a commotion, sweetie. I’m thrilled to finally meet you,” said the handsome man who entered the room with a leather suitcase and white coat.

“Doctor Kim, I presume,” She assumed. He was undeniably attractive, much like his Kkangpae. But she wouldn’t admit that for some time.

“For you, sweetie, it’s Seokjin. We’re going to be family, after all,” he smiled, attempting to put her at ease. He couldn’t help but notice her guarded demeanour. She scoffed at his proclamation, as expected.

“So,” he clapped his hands together, “let’s talk about you and your health, darling,” he said while searching for an empty file with her name.

“I want you to know that I won’t tell him a damn thing unless it’s necessary, you can trust me,” he stated.

“Except whether or not I’m a virgin, right?” she retorted in a cocky voice, mocking the messed-up mafia system.

“If you want to start with that, you can lie down, and I’ll check,” he sassed back with a smirk. Something told her they would only be friends for a very brief moment as long as she remained in this place.

“So, are you?” he asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.

“What if I’m not?” she tilted her head to the side. He chuckled.

“I see your point, but that wouldn’t free you from the engagement. He would simply have the man who touched you slaughtered to show his power,” he explained. She straightened herself, taking a deep breath.

“And even though I have to check anyway, it’s not just about your chastity,” he said. She did know, but that didn’t mean she would be comfortable spreading her legs for a stranger.

“Let’s leave that until the very end, shall we?” he smiled at her.

“Have you consumed any contaminated water while you were on the run?” he surprised her with the question.

“No, I don’t think so...” she stammered.

“Besides hurting Hoseok-ssi, did you fight with anyone else and get injured?” So that was the man’s name.

“Is he okay?” she asked, deflecting his question.

“He’s fine, but you should apologise once you meet him. He meant no harm,” he replied. Well, she hadn’t meant any harm either; she just wanted to escape the scene quickly. She nodded in agreement.

“When was the last time you were sick, honey.”

“Sometime last year.” He hummed in response.

“Do you have a family history of any medical conditions or diseases?” he continued with the examination.

“None that I’m aware of,” she shrugged.

“Any reproductive problems in your family?” he asked more seriously.

And here it comes—reducing her to merely a vessel, even before marriage. Just in time, the devil appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his hands in his pockets. “Not on my side,” he interjected.

She didn’t want to give him a glance, but her body failed her. His black hair was tucked behind his ears, a scar shining in its glory on his face. He smiled. And for a moment, she got lost in his eyes again. He’s having an impact on her, and he knows.

“Y/N?” Seokjin called her name to get her attention back to him.

“No, not in my lineage,” her gaze fell again as she listened to what he was asking her.

“Do you smoke?” He asked with curiosity in his voice.

“Uhm, no.” She answered honestly. Y/N had been around cigarettes a lot, but she had never smoked one herself.

“Very good, do not start. It’s not worth it,” he gave his younger brother from another mother a side-eye, and the younger one just rolled his eyes in response. It made her chuckle a little, hoping they wouldn’t hear it. He did but didn’t say a word. Yoongi wanted her to be comfortable around him.

“Alcohol?” he asked while jotting down her previous answers.

“Occasionally?” she questioned herself, as she couldn’t remember the last time, she had a drink.

“Hmm,” he hummed again and wrote it down.

“Do you have any problems with your monthly bleeding?” Seokjin looked into her eyes and glanced at his brother.

“No…” she said awkwardly, gulping down.

“When was the last time you ate?” He looked into her eyes, and she realised she couldn’t recall, nor did she feel hungry until now. Was it the adrenaline?

“I think it was the morning I left Shenyang, five days ago,” she replied.

“You went from Shenyang to Incheon in 5 days?!” He raised his voice which caused him a mean look from his leader.

“How are you not exhausted to death?!” He continued.

“I had some intense drugged sleep. Thank you for your concern, though,” she answered honestly.

“She needs to eat, but she has to do so carefully to avoid upsetting her stomach. Don’t let her overstuff herself,” he instructed his companion. She was starting to feel ravenous; she hadn’t eavesdropped on their conversation, but rather, she was lost in her thoughts, preparing for what would come next.

“Beautiful, I need you to lie down for Seokjin now,” he snapped her out of it.

“What?” with him inside the room?

“It’s not necessary. I can tell him what he needs to know without that,” she protested.

“It’s a rule we follow, dove. We don’t want you to—” she cut him off.

“You just want to know if someone have fucked me before or not. Otherwise, you wouldn’t care,” she spat out. He seemed taken aback by her sudden change of attitude. This is the fire he wanted to desperately extinguish, at least towards him. Jin looked very much shocked but also amused when he glanced at his friend that was startled by this petite Chinese woman.

“I need to check for other reasons as well,” Seokjin said, clasping his hands together.

“Why can’t you just retrieve my medical file?”

“You have a medical file?” He asked, surprised. It was very rare for someone to have a medical file, especially at times after the war, apart from when a young one went to study. An entrance examination was always needed.

“Yes. Send a letter to my college.” She said, not realising she slipped a piece of valuable information out.

“College?” Yoongi asked, clearly shocked. Seokjin wasn’t looking much less surprised than him. She gave them questioning looks, knowing full well why they were so astonished.

“W-What did u study?” Jin stammered the question out. She wasn’t meant to inherit her father’s empire, but she was destined for an arranged marriage to another powerful family. Higher education wasn’t supposed to be part of her life. However, this would explain why she hadn’t been married off at eighteen. They had sent her away to study.

“Nursing.” She shrugged as if her words carried no weight.

“My, my,” said Jin, stroking his chin.

“I know what you’re thinking, and the answer is no. As of now, a big no,” she looked at her abductor, confused.

“As of now is good with me!” he clapped his hands together.

“Now, please leave, brother. I don’t think she’ll ever comply if you’re here. I’ll bring her to the garden afterwards,” Yoongi wanted to object, but when he saw the pleading distress in her eyes, he nodded and left his bedroom.

The young leader was proud that she hadn’t tried to run away or throw a tantrum yet. He didn’t want to resort to violence or coercion.

Stone pathways meandered through the garden, inviting one to explore its every corner. She was absorbing her surroundings with a teacup in her small hands. The air was fragrant with the scent of autumn. The wind was a bit chilling as the end of October was nearing. Snow will fall soon. A small pavilion she found herself sitting in beside a koi fishpond that sparkled in the sunlight, felt too peaceful.

“You look absolutely stunning,” said he, his gaze fixed upon her petite figure draped in a flowery pink qipao, her hair elegantly tucked behind her ears. She radiated a natural beauty, untouched by face powders or lipsticks. He loved this vision, an embodiment of purity and innocence. Little did he know, beneath her facade of grace, lay a sharp tongue that defied even the will of God.

She sipped her tea; Y/N ate a little bit of rice and seaweed soup to drive off her hunger. As she admired the garden’s serenity, she found herself drawn not only to its peacefulness but also to the possibility of escape it presented. Perhaps she could run back to Incheon and board a ship that would carry her far away from this place.

“You should know that ‘pretty’ is just a word, and your compliments and pet names won’t win me over. Use my name,” she scoffed, challenging his attempts to woo her.

“That doesn’t mean I’ll stop,” he was determined to break through her defences.

Y/N shot him a piercing stare, a skill she had acquired swiftly. She pondered the enigma of the man before her, wondering how in God’s name she could resist his charm.

“I appreciate that you haven’t attempted to escape yet,” he murmured, sipping his tea. Y/N was no fool; she knew that throwing a fit every second she was held captive would only lead to further confinement. For now, she decided to falsely embrace the last moments of autumn in this beautiful garden, she already scanned in her mind.

“I won’t be very keen on you if you’ll try to,” he warned, his tone shifting unexpectedly. Did he seek to intimidate her, or was he afraid she would succeed in slipping away?

“You seem eager to ask me questions,” said she with cockiness in her voice. Acting tough would make it harder for him to break her will. Not like she counted on a prolonged stay.

“I do,” he hummed in agreement. “But are you willing to answer them, my sweet?” Her eyes rolled at the nickname, accompanied by a scoff. He sighed.

“I’ll answer anything you want, and you’ll answer mine. Deal?” he proposed, a smile playing on his lips.

“That’s quite the cliché, you know,” she declared, placing her cup down just as he eagerly reached to refill it.

“But if it gets you to talk to me, darling, I’ll graciously accept the cliché,” he replied smoothly.

“I know what you want to ask,” she interjected. He was curious about how she managed to study for years without being married off.

“My aunt was very dear to my father. She persuaded him,” she confessed, her words carrying a burden that still weighed on her mind.

“Naturally, my father had intended to marry me off instead of allowing me to pursue my studies. It was still on the table. However, the last war, as you surely recall, brought forth injured, disabled, and dead.”

“I had just turned eighteen. So, my aunt negotiated that I would study nursing in Shenyang instead and be useful to the clan this way. My father saw the merit in her argument and delayed my marriage to whatever his name is—” She explained, her nonchalant tone contrasting with the mention of the man she was meant to marry and the affection she held for her late aunt.

“But my aunt passed away recently and there was no reason for my father to let me stay in Shenyang after I ended my studies. I became more useful to him if I married that boy, as your clan sent a warning. He needed the allyship.” She sighed.

“So I ran the moment we buried my aunt and I was sent back to Shenyang to get my diploma and return.” He listened attentively, aware that her trust was not easily won, and that loyalty would be crucial in their future together. She was still cautious around him, and he wanted her to open up to him even more. It would be a lot easier for her to trust him. But he knew better than that. Trust is earned, and it goes both ways.

“You never met him?” he inquired, referring to her failed engagement.

“No. I don’t think I even remember his name. Father always called him Yamamoto, never by his first name,” she replied. He knew his name well, having encountered him during negotiations for a deal in the past. Officially, Korea remained under Japanese rule, but within the underworld, clans were locked in fierce conflict. Yoongi, longing for peace, knew that Wang’s treaty pact with the Yamamoto clan was a significant obstacle. However, with Y/N’s presence here, the plans could be easily altered. According to the plan.

The cold young leader is not only aiming for her father’s empire and making peace for his clan, he longed for a woman like her. It was about time the leader of the clan took a wife to secure the lineage. Although there was a male heir in her family, who could potentially pose an obstacle, he was still too young to step into the role. Y/N, as the eldest heir, a female, would become an integral part of Yoongi’s plans to secure the future of their clans.

“You crave the throne, don’t you?” she asked, cocking her head and chin defiantly, her narrowed eyes fixed on him.

“I want you too.” She chuckled at his response.

“I’m merely a convenient excuse, am I not?” Y/N smiled too sweetly.

“You’ll kill m—” he rose from his chair, not even letting her finish. Grabbing her by her shoulders in a steel grip with a penetrating gaze.

The fragile cup slipped from her trembling hands and shattered on the floor. A nearby maid prepared to clean up the shattered shards. “Leave us!” he barked at the startled girl; his voice filled with anger. Y/N’s eyes widened. He was even more aggressive and intimidating than before.

“I could—” his voice seething with fury, “— I could gather man and slaughter your entire clan, keeping you as a trophy, a symbol of my power.” The threat hung in the air, and she could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. Fear was coursing through her, yet she resisted letting it control her.

“Matter of fact—” he continued, his grip tightening on her shoulders, eliciting a whimper of pain from her, “—you will be a symbol of the magnitude my power has, no matter if your father and family remain alive. So, it’s on you. The fate of your kin rests in your hands. Their survival hinges on your decisions and how well you’ll cooperate.” He tightened his grip again, eliciting another whimper of pain from her.

“But I will never dispose of you,” he growled through gritted teeth, his tone a mixture of possessiveness and frustration. Gathering her courage, she managed to speak again, her voice trembling but filled with resolve.

“You cannot manipulate me like this. Do you think I’ll fall for this fucked up scheme? I have spent my entire life under the orders of others, forbidden from making choices for myself! And you have the audacity to use my innocence thinking I will willingly crawl into your bed and love you like a devoted lover.” Venom in her voice and the desperate tone made him fall for her even more.

“I’ve only recently met you, so spare me your attempts to deceive me that you’re being my saviour.” Y/N has enough fire to still conquer and fight him back. “I refuse to be a passive participant in this game.” She shall not take it lying down.

“I’m giving you a choice—” he asserted, his voice laced with a dangerous undertone “—either you’ll walk down the aisle to me or there will be bloodshed. I won’t send you back to your father nor will I relinquish you easily.” His eyes locked onto hers, and she could see the darkness consuming his pupils when anger consumed him.

“Call it love, obsession, or whatever you please, but no matter what imbecile attempts you make to fight or flee, we will inevitably end up together nonetheless,” he declared with conviction. Was this the fate God had laid out for her? Her faith wavered, and if he didn’t assist soon, she shall forbid him altogether.

“You just want to fuck m—” he cut her off abruptly, his voice low and seductive.

“I can either fuck you hard or I can make love to you,” said he, whilst setting her left arm free and sliding his to her thigh, caressing it sweetly.

Breathing started to become harder for Y/N. Unfamiliar sensations welled up in her lower belly whilst his touch was sending shivers through her body. Was this attraction? Excitement? Mother told her this is how love is supposed to feel. Butterflies in her stomach. But she certainly wasn’t in love with her captor.

He sensed her confusion and distress, leaving her to fall back to the chair. Finally letting her breathe freely. Yoongi sat back in his chair, collecting himself and the three-piece suit he wears today.

“Loss of words, innit?” He chuckled.

He was filled with pride, an overwhelming sense of it, knowing the impact he had on her. She dusted her thighs and straightened her dress.

“Remember, it’s your call. Either you’ll go willingly or with coercion,” her gaze piercing through him for change.

“I’m still waiting to hear back from your father, but before we proceed, I need to go over some rules I expect you to follow before and after we’re wed,” he said, picking up his cup of tea again.

“I know the rules. Just because I went to study doesn’t mean I wasn’t prepared to be the wife of any higher-profile mafia member,” she replied, and he chuckled.

“What’s so funny, care to share?” She asked her sass back.

“Not those kinds of rules. I know you’re prepared for that. But entertain me, baby. What do you think I’ll ask of you?” he said, grinning mischievously, his chin resting between his thumb and forefinger.

“You’ll hand me the household finances after, not like I already agreed, I see no ring yet —”

“—not interfere in business affairs, maintain a low profile to avoid unnecessary attention, and be nothing more than a pretty face, spread your legs and pop out heirs.” He listened to her, amused. She is vaccinated with these dynamics as her mother underwent the same and taught her to do so. However, to Yoongi’s unluckiness, she inherited her whim and flame too.

“You don’t need to manage the household; we have people for that. But if you wish to change anything in the budget, you of course can, sweetling,” he responded, surprising her with his contradictory words.

“I don’t want you to be just a pretty face because you have to. Your fire will be beneficial for me once in a while. If I ever tell you to sit still and look pretty, it would be a matter of life and death, a means to protect you, —”

“—See? I can be very good.” He said, sipping his cold tea, leaving it in his mouth to warm a little while he is thinking. He found great joy in evoking emotions from her.

“You can involve yourself in the business as much as you desire, but I doubt you’ll want to engage in those activities. For your safety, I would sleep better if you were always by my side once we’re engaged and married shortly after.” He stressed out the last word.

“Once we’ll be engaged and wed, your loyalty to your father will transfer to me, and me only” he emphasised his voice firm.

“I won’t force you to be intimate with me after the wedding night, although I’m sure you’ll come to desire it,” he said with a sickly grin, causing her stomach to churn. She needed a moment to process everything he told her by far.

“I saw how you reacted to me earlier. You will enjoy our time in the bedroom, surely.” He spoke as if it wasn’t taboo.

“I-” she stammered and hesitated. He stunned her. Broke down to her core, and he wanted to dig even further.

“I’m aware.” He replied to her unspoken utterance.

She leaned into her chair further, feeling so small suddenly, so inexperienced. Y/N remembers a boy with black hair and green eyes who she had a crush on. He kissed her one night under a cherry blossom tree in their garden. Her father got to know, and she never saw him since.

“All of this comes with one rule: obedience. You will obey as a good girl, and everyone will be happy,” he declared firmly.

“But disobedience won’t be tolerated,” he added, his tone unwavering.

“I want our marriage to be right, as it should be. I won’t force you to be intimate with me. I mean it,” he tried to assure her.

“—Apart from the wedding night, which speaking of, I still didn’t say, ’Yes, I will’.” He laughed and got up from his chair. Her choices and chances were limited. Even if she would manage to escape, he would go on a killing spree till he would get her back. Min Yoongi was very much interested and devoted to marrying this young female.

He knelt on one knee in front of her. A scenery one could perceive as a loving couple is ready to pursue a life journey together. She hadn’t expected him to propose before her father’s agreement, let alone in such a proper manner. Y/N knew better, she just wanted to tease him back.

This wasn’t how mafia members typically behaved, especially the Kkangpae, who never bowed or knelt to anyone. A sign of respect and reverence. Is she to be fooled again? Was he trying to earn her trust with this pretentious act or is he truly showing her respect? Countless questions stormed her mind, causing her inner turmoil. A thunder and lightning bolt within.

He pulled out a velvet little box from his inside pocket and slowly opened it before her shocked figure. The ring glistened in the light. She hates to admit it, but it was marvellous. The delicate band, crafted from shimmering gold, was embellished with intricate filigree that snaked its way around the band in a dance of beauty. Sapphire, shining atop the band surrounded by smaller diamonds, a starry night sky, each one a glimmering testament to the masterful skill of the jeweller. The ring must be older than she or him.

“Miss Wang—” said he, staring into her soul and making her look away from the ring. “—You would honour me if you shall decide to spend, thou life by my side. I promise to protect you and respect you if you have me.”

Confusion would be the correct term, as just moments ago, he held her in a punishing grip, issuing threats. She mustered the courage to ask him once more. “Why?”

He smiled at her so widely. This smile was different. “Please don’t give me any sweet bullshit or I swear—” he interrupted her.

“All you think is my reason — is my reason. I’m not going to lie to you. Just know…this is God’s will, and God presented you to me as a life companion. You can put your fear aside and stand up to me. You’re a challenge I’m determined to embrace, and God knows I’ll do my best to make you mine,” he explained, his tone serious and earnest.

Would God allow him to do anything to conquer her and this world? His words resonated deep within her soul, stirring something within her. Will Father punish her once he will arrive here if he is even coming here? He has to. She knows. If she will get engaged, he will have to come and give him his blessing.

Mother. She wanted to desperately hide in her mother’s arms. Is she ready to confine herself to someone else than her mother, sister, or aunt? Her poor aunt must be restless in her grave. She wanted only the best for her. A different life than the one of someone’s wife; at least that’s what she believed.

“So, what will it be? Shall I send my man to gear up or—” She didn’t let him finish. Y/N didn’t want anyone else to die or get hurt because she wanted her freedom so selfishly. She questioned her faith and wondered if this was truly the path that had been laid out for her.

Is this her path?

“I will.”

It must be.

He smiled brightly. He is one step closer to orchestrating in her heart. It’s her verdict whether it will be an easier or difficult and rocky path. He took the ring out of its box, reaching for her left hand. Sliding the ring on her finger.

Slowly, he raised her hand to his lips, gently placing a kiss on her skin. He didn’t break eye contact the whole time, which made her uneasy. Y/N didn’t expect the leader to close the distance between them and lean to her, still holding her hand. Her breath picked its pace, and her lips parted a little; she gasped when he was getting too close. Y/N felt so stiff and frozen. Almost brushing his lips with hers—

“Sajangnim—?” A voice echoed. Unwillingly and frustrated, he turned his head to the staff member of the household. Y/N turned her head in the opposite direction, her chest heaving rapidly as she struggled to catch her breath.

“What?!” he barked; his anger evident.

“Mr Wang is on the telephone.”

I N T E R L O G U E

“How long will she be out?” Asked the leader, pacing front and back in his office. It had only been a few minutes since the son of his late father’s captain of the front force had brought her back to their territory. She appeared serene as he carried her into his room and gently laid her on the bed. Although he had a maid ready to change her clothes, he couldn’t resist the urge to do it himself.

“Hopefully she’ll sleep most of the evening and night,” Chan-yeol replied.

“I see,” answered the leader, trying to mask his concern. He realised how much he yearned for her presence.

“Everything will work out right, Kkangpae?” Chan-yeol asked, seeking reassurance.

“Of course. How is your wife, Chan-yeol?” Yoongi replied confidently. He vividly recalls her disparagement of this plan, as if her opinion mattered to him. She had shown a protective instinct towards her, much like her mother had. It stirred conflicting emotions within him.

“She won’t be a problem, I promise.” His voice was laced with a hint of fear. It was only natural to be afraid of someone like Yoongi.

The plan was for her to reach Jeju Island, and stumbling upon the warehouse was a mere coincidence—a twist of fate that strengthened Yoongi’s belief in their union. The way she looked into his eyes made him breathless.

His heart burned for her even more than ever before.

to be continued

author’s note: yall I have to say I didn't expect that much of love for my baby. Thank you all beautiful creatures! Feels very surreal. Thank you for all the love, reblogs and comments. I love you, I see you. I hope you enjoyed the first and second chapter and will look forward to the next one ♥ Stay tuned for the preview of chapter III soonish ♥

Also I tried to add everyone who asked to the tag list, and if you want to be in too or you ain't tagged properly, comment or dm ♥

Shout out to Bex the queen @chaoticpuff17 for beta reading this chapter and shout out to all her bombastically good fics!! ♥ ily♥

Love you!!!!

Don't be a silent reader, comment, re-blog, heart, asks are more than welcome ♥

keep in mind - I'm not expert on chinese, korean and japanese culture, but I tried to research everything realistic I wanted to add to the story. Nonetheless, take it as a fiction.

let's be friends chummers ♥

lots of love,

𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖞𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖊

taglist: @chaoticpuff17 @honsoolgloss @jingerbreadoutofstock @moocow778 @janura26 @dinosolecito @yoongislatinagff @xyahrinx @ruhmoojeonjunkook-blog @hi12345567 @nochue @deltamoon666 @bbkissme99 @darkuni63 @nansasa @sazsazsaz @missmin @strxwbloody @royallyjjk @jaiuneamesolitaiire @shadowyjellyfishfest

©pennyellee. please do not repost

[giggly-squiggily]

things are kinda very hard rn and the dabble made my day infinitely better so if you don't mind i'll send in another one - "Aren't you tired of fighting?" with uzusane pretty please, but only if you wanna ofc ♡♡

{Puffs are now CLOSED!}

*sends all the hugs* Oh Rey- I'm sorry things are hard right now. I hope they get better soon! This one got a weeeee bit angsty (I can't resist with a beautiful prompt like that) but I hope you like it all the same! (If you want something fluffy please feel free to send another prompt-what who said that?)

CW: Angst, Demon Slayer post-ending spoilers

“Aren’t you tired of fighting?” The comment came out of nowhere- rattling Sanemi down to his core. “Seriously- don’t you ever want to just sit down and breathe?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” His shock shaped into anger, hands trembling into knuckle-white fists as he turned to glare. “You have no idea-”

“You’re blaming yourself.” Tengen’s words cut deep, the tone casual as if he were ordering tea at the shop. “You’re thinking “If I were just stronger. If I got there a second sooner. If I just did things differently, none of this would happen.” You’re wearing yourself down to the bone cause you don’t think you deserve anything less than punishment.” Tengen’s hard glare softened some, a weak smile pulling on his lips. “Am I wrong?”

Sanemi’s anger scattered to the wind, the words like a mirror reflection shoved in his face. He had no defense. Muzan was dead. The demons were gone. And yet..

“I don’t know how.” His strength left with his words, his knees hitting the dirt path beneath him. Was he crying or sweating? His voice sounded thick. “How do you know when it’s finally over?”

A beat of silence. Then a warm hand was on his back, the smell of tea and flash bombs touching his nose and making his eyes water. “You live on. You live and you keep living until the day comes where you find yourself at peace. You live on so those who couldn’t will have something to hear about when you come home to them.” Tengen reached up, wiping at his tears gently. “You live for them. And you live for yourself too.”

Sanemi let out a shaky breath, nodding. He closed his eyes, feeling himself be pulled into Tengen’s chest as let all the things he said sink in. This wasn’t going to be an easy journey- this whole living thing.

“Of course- if you need help from me, you’re always welcome at the Uzui estate! I could use a fourth wife.” Tengen grinned, brightening when he heard Sanemi snort. “What? I think you’d fit right in! I’ll get you a matching outfit- wait, no. The girls might be jealous of your tits.”

“Oh fuhuhck off!” Sanemi laughed, shoving at him as the older man cackled. His chest felt lighter at least.

He was glad to have Tengen in his life.

[itspeterkha]

"𝐈𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮, 𝐈’𝐯𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐲 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐲𝐦𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐔𝐬"

From the moment you entered my life, it wasn’t love at first sight, but something entirely different—something I couldn’t quite name back then. There was no sudden rush, no overwhelming infatuation, but a quiet, lingering curiosity that settled deep in my chest. The very first time I laid my eyes on you, something in me stilled. It wasn’t just the way you stood, bold and fierce, or how the fire in your eyes commanded attention—it was something else, something that whispered to me that my life was about to change. In that instant, I knew you were going to mean more to me than I could comprehend. I was taken aback. Yet, even then, I was in awe.

I didn’t know what it was that drew me to you. It wasn’t just your confidence or your spirit; it was something deeper, something that spoke to me without words. I stood there, watching, and I knew that you were meant to be part of my life. Not just in passing, but in a way that would leave an imprint on me. I didn’t know how or why, but from that moment, my heart knew you were someone special.

When you asked, "What are your intentions?" I remember feeling a mix of nervousness and honesty that I hadn’t experienced before. I had no answers then—no plans, no path mapped out for where we might go—but I knew I wanted you in my life. Whether we were to remain friends or become something more, all of that felt secondary to the simple truth that I wanted to know you, to be around you. I didn’t need labels or expectations, just the space to be with you, to see where this connection would lead. And, for someone who had spent years building walls around my heart, that was a feeling both terrifying and exhilarating.

I took that leap, a shot in the dark, when I added you and reached out, and since then, our friendship has been nothing short of a wild, beautiful ride. There were moments in the beginning when we didn’t quite understand each other, where you probably thought I was a little too mysterious or odd.

I laugh now, thinking about how you jokingly accused me of being some kind of spy, always observing. But looking back, I was just trying to figure out how someone like you—a force of nature—could make me feel so at peace. It took me a while to understand what was happening inside of me. I’ve spent so much of my life thinking that love or deep affection had to come with a rush of adrenaline, a dizzying euphoria. But what I felt with you was different—so much more grounding, so much more real. Yes, you make me smile, you make me laugh, and I genuinely love being in your company, but it’s more than that. You make me feel safe, like I can let down my guard, like I don’t have to pretend or perform. For the first time, I feel like I can just be.

And that’s where I realise this is different from anything I’ve felt before. It’s not just the excitement of being with someone who lights up my world—it’s the calm you bring. It’s the way everything around me quiets when you’re near, the way all the noise and chaos fade away. When I’m with you, I don’t feel like I need to prove myself, because you see me. The real me. And somehow, that feels more intimate than any of the love stories I used to dream about.

You have this fire in you, this passion that burns so brightly, and it’s impossible not to be drawn to it. But it’s not just the fire—it’s the warmth you bring, the way your presence makes everything feel lighter, easier. You make me feel like no matter what I’m facing, it’s going to be okay, because when I look at you, I feel like I’ve found my home. That sounds cheesy, I know, but it’s the truth. In you, I’ve found not just excitement, but peace. Not just passion, but comfort.

There’s a depth to this, to what you’ve sparked in me, that I didn’t know was possible. You’ve somehow sunk beneath my skin, into the core of who I am, and nurtured something there—something I didn’t even know needed nurturing. You’ve made me question everything I thought I knew about love. How could I have thought I’d loved before, when I hadn’t felt this? This steady, calm knowing that no matter what happens, we’ll figure it out together.

And that’s the most beautiful thing about this connection. You’ve made me realise that love isn’t just about the highs, the excitement, the butterflies. It’s about feeling completely safe in someone’s presence. It’s about the comfort of knowing that with you, I don’t have to be anything other than myself. You’ve nurtured this familiarity, this deep-seated bond that has grown into something so fierce and strong, it makes me wonder how I ever lived without it.

Being with you feels like being part of a symphony—a harmony I never knew I needed. Every glance, every word exchanged between us is like a note that fits perfectly into the melody of my life. The highs and lows are no longer jarring but part of a greater rhythm, and even in moments of silence, there’s music. With you, nothing feels forced or rushed; instead, everything flows together as though we’ve been playing this piece for years. You’ve brought balance to my chaos, and now I understand that love doesn’t have to be loud or overwhelming—it can be gentle, steady, and still so powerful.

So here I am, writing these words, tearing down the walls I’ve spent a lifetime building, finally showing you the parts of me that I’ve kept hidden for so long. It’s terrifying, but with you, it feels right. You make me want to be braver, to be more vulnerable, to let you in. And I don’t know where this journey will take us, but I do know that whatever happens, I’m grateful that our paths crossed. Because in you, I’ve found not just a companion, but a place where I can truly rest.

[nightmare-foundation]

You said few months ago to aks your thoughts: what exactly do you mean by "Ozpin has long since given up on his task"?

I agree but don't have any coherent thoughts, except I also kind of think Oscar might've returned a spark to him ("You saved us," Ozpin also fighting the merge in the V9 Epilogue storyboard.)

Honestly this is a bit hard to explain bc I haven't touched RWBY in months (I'm neck deep in a batfamily hyperfixation), so my thoughts on this are VERY scattered, but I'll do my best to explain. I might come back and add any additional thoughts I might have.

Essentially, Ozpin doesn't really act like he's actively working towards his God-given task. Even if he is, I think he's doing the absolute bare minimum required of it. He's clearly tried before- if The Infinite Man is a 100% true story- but he labels that attempt as a mistake several times over. On top of that, he hasn't done... anything with the Relics after The Great War. The world was described as being in a time of 'unprecedented peace'- but Ozpin didn't DO anything with that.

I also think it's safe to assume that doing Lights task probably requires- essentially a cult dedicated to him. This is seen in The Infinite Man, since the woman Oz talks to mentions a 'final judgement', and the antagonist towards the end says that Oz's mere existence makes him a target. So it's safe to assume that pretty much everyone knew about his task at this time, and people didn't like the idea of it. I'm pretty sure it's also stated that this is the closest he's gotten to completing it. But as Ozpin recounts this, he repeatedly says that this was a mistake, and clearly regrets his actions here. He had good intentions, but it didn't matter in the end; the Circle was a mistake and he's asking for forgiveness.

On top of that, he says "Some people worship God's, while others insist we must be our own salvation. But the world doesn't work in absolutes, so why can't it be both?" This coupled with The Gift of the Moon and The Man Who Stared at the Sun as well as The Two Brothers heavily imply Oz believes that Light, or both of the Gods but especially Light, is selfish, petty, and that appeasing him not only requires heavy sacrifice, but hurts everyone else, and that humanity can replace the Gods; they don't need them.

The Academies themselves imply this too- they're safe Havens, Beacons of hope, keeping the world raised to shield them from destruction and providing Shade from the unforgiving sun (Light). They're symbolic, representing Oz's core values/beliefs, and one of those is that humanity needs to be shielded from Light. He very much also supports individuality, if the Great War is anything to go by plus the creation of the Academies. Something that, honestly, I don't think Light very much appreciates.

Also, Oz's inner circle doesn't really seem like Light followers to me. They follow Oz, and they believed his story of "The Gods cursed me for failing to stop Salem"- something that doesn't exactly paint them in a good light. The Gods don't seem to matter at all to them, just that they... exist. They also weren't aware of Oz's task, just that Oz wanted to keep things peaceful; not necessarily united, but peaceful. I also wouldn't call Oz's circle a cult either, since imo they really don't fit the bill to me, and it wouldn't make sense if they fit the cult BITE model since it'd hinder more than help, though the group IS dysfunctional.

Also, Oz knows how impossible the task is, knows it's just not possible to appease Light.

I do think he USED to work towards the task, but likely hasn't in a long time. I believe he's trying to keep Salem from the Relics because he believes that a second rebellion would never go well, and Remnant is free enough as is, even if he's essentially still chained via his immortality. Salem sees the Relics as a sort of Sword of Damocles- a constant threat looming over the world. And they are- but I think Ozpin also sees them as tools that could help the world.

Basically I think Oz has come to the conclusion that the world is free enough as is, and that rebelling against the Gods again will end very badly (as it had for Salem), while Salem believes that the world is still in chains. Oz's fears definitely aren't unfounded- after all, the Gods pretty much played with him like a toy by repeatedly reviving and then killing him.

Oz has pretty much completely lost faith in the Gods, if he had much to begin with, and the only reason I believe he followed his task initially was likely due to fear and believing Salem hates him, rather than out of any real devotion.

Oh and, I almost forgot- the tale of the two brothers is widely regarded as a fairytale on Remnant, and the main characters had to be TOLD about them, so it's safe to assume they're not nearly as widely known anymore, and we haven't seen any evidence of anything religious surrounding them yet. So there likely isn't any widespread religion about the Brothers, and if there is a religion, it certainly isn't large. There's definitely no mention of any in-universe backlash of including a supposedly widespread religion in a book of fairytales (and I say this because I've seen people say that it's a widespread religion like Christianity, when there's nothing implying that it currently is. During the time of The Infinite Man? Yeah, but not in the modern day).

Soo, there's my analysis on Oz and if he's still working towards his task and what his thoughts on the Gods are.

[blaque-honeyy]

*sigh* I have so much to say about The Bear S3.

I think s3 exists in this type of limbo where there are soo many things happening but none of it is really moving the story forward. My confusion lies in not knowing if this was intentional or not.

I feel dissatisfied, but I'm slightly okay with it (?) knowing that we were told some of these events were going to happen and it wouldn't be authentic if these problems were resolved within the season. Whether or not I remain okay with the events of this season depend on figuring out what the purpose of s3 was.

There is this parallax effect happening throughout the entire season: where Syd & Carmy start out AGREEING to go through this together but once Carmy starts slipping into old behaviors, their perspectives on how to get to that goal become different. Opening the restaurant was supposed to be a big point of unity and fulfillment for them but it has only created more distance and promoted an unequal power balance between them. They are stuck and it feels like chaos moving in slow motion.

The silence between them is so damn loud it's unbearable. Watching the individual descents of both characters is so rough and exposes the toxicity of trying to create something new without addressing unhealed wounds.

I think the restaurant is a toxic relationship for Sydney. She loves and admires Carmy so much, and doesn't want to walk away from something that she's put so much effort into, but there's only so much compromising you can do before you start losing yourself. Syd is rightfully scared that she will forever live in Carmy's shadow.

Carmy is spiraling, blinded by tunnel vision to reach "success", and has lost the fucking plot. It was so interesting to see flashbacks of his career and seeing how compassionate and nurturing his mentors were and instead of trying to embody that, Carmy, DEEP in his trauma, is actively imitating the one man he accuses of destroying his physical and mental health.

Of course he still cares about Sydney. He wants to make her happy, give her the star she wants. But in his obsession to gain that success, he has completely pushed her (and everybody else) aside. His mission to prove himself individually (based off insecurities around his competency as a chef/business owner & not being able to provide for his friends & family) has taken precedence over his commitment to her. As painful as this evolution of their relationship is, I do like the direction and I think it was handled pretty well.

Points of contention for me:

I couldn't give two shits about Claire–sorry. The fact that they retroactively added soo many scenes from when they were together seems contrived and looks like another bid to put another relationship above Syd & Carmy's. Neil telling Claire "you're the peace"???? DON'T PISS ME OFF.

Is this The Bear or The Fak Show? There were a lot of Faks introduced in this season and their banter seemed like it was created to fill in dead air. It was very annoying at some points. (John Cena was great though I can't say anything bad about that man.)

Adding too many tertiary characters. The Faks, the old employees of The Beef to help Ebra. Adding all these characters instead of fostering interactions between the core group.

This might be a hot take but they spent WAY too much time on Nat's pregnancy before the birth. Also, she had this baby and NOBODY but the Faks came to see her in the hospital?? BYE.

Things that I solidly liked:

T's episode! Her struggle with unemployment, losing hope, and then meeting Mikey was easily the most endearing moment of the season for me. Then watching her start to develop her own ideas and creativity in the kitchen was just 🤌🏾🤌🏾🤌🏾.

Again, although I'm team SydCarmy, I like this stage of their relationship. Exposing the flaws, and exploring ways they need to improve for themselves and for each other. I WANT Syd to leave The Bear because 1) it would be good for her health and to see how a good restaurant is supposed to operate 2) I firmly believe that will be the catalyst to making Carm get his shit together. I want him to PANIC. I want him to BEG. I want him to CRY. 😊

As you can see, the latter list is not long enough. There were plenty of things I didn't touch on but that would make this post 5x longer.

I can see how s3 could be the low point of the series. A lot of these episodes would be considered fillers in plenty of other television shows. I appreciate the change of pace but would like it more if it was handled better. And I'm mad that I have to wait a YEAR to get REAL story development after this.

[utilitycaster]

Something that I find misses the point so completely it is breathtaking is when people are like "this player hates engaging with their backstory" about the CR cast. It's pretty much never true, and what's worst is that I've seen it the most about Travis and Taliesin, two of the players who I think have the strongest grasp on how to create and engage with a backstory.

The choice to have a character who avoids elements of their past can be a valid, informed, and deliberate character choice. People run from their pasts! People decide not to pursue things for a number of reasons - because it hurts too much, because they're scared to know the answer, because they think the people around them don't care, and because their interests change. Caduceus very much is an avoidant character. He has access to Sending by the time we first meet him, and he never uses it to try to contact his family. That's not Taliesin being stupid or avoiding. That's Caduceus making a conscious choice to not ask the question "is my family dead" because he is terrified the answer is yes. He waits for a concrete sign to go after his family to the point of deep loneliness and self-harm out of this fear. That's a crucial trait that you need to understand him as a character! Ashton is also on some level similar in that he engages in no shortage of harmful, wallowing, and self-indulgent behaviors - and that is a choice. They also have obviously messy feelings about the Hishari and it's pretty plain to see they feel extremely conflicted about their growing bonds with Bells Hells because now they'll feel bad if Bells Hells leaves them. So of course he's hesitant to bring this to Orym, because then he's entrusted Orym with this information, and he has to care, and again, this is a major part of who Ashton is.

The same goes with Fjord and Vandran (and Sabian). One of the core themes of Fjord's story is deciding whether to run from or embrace your past, and which parts of that past you want to bring forward as you change, which means that to explore that, he has to do some running! He makes efforts to learn more about where they are (going to search for Vandran during the Zadash downtime; hiring a bounty hunter for Sabian) but those get interrupted by Fjord's shifting feelings about Vandran, and fact that this is an ensemble and the story naturally shifts.

Which brings us to the practical element. Fjord doesn't want to release Uk'otoa at the time, so it makes sense to return to the mainland and process next steps, and the focus of the story then turns to rescuing Yeza, and then finding Yasha, and rescuing Caduceus's family, and changing Veth back, and brokering peace, and TravelerCon, and Eiselcross. Through this, he still in fact does quite a lot of backstory work (changing patrons and taking a paladin oath, asking Jester to contact Vandran), as well as an immense amount of character growth and engagement with the ongoing story, but Travis doesn't wrench everything off its natural course just to check off every box on Fjord's list, because that would be selfish, obnoxious, and not fun to watch. And Caduceus achieves exactly what he set out to do! He found and rescued his family and found a way to hold off the corruption! Despite his avoidance, he covers all the bases! And as for Ashton...we've had precious little time to cover anyone's backstory in depth other than Imogen's, and we've actually seen a decent amount of Ashton's backstory regardless with their contacts in Bassuras and their interactions with Jiana. There simply was not time in Bassuras to stray from the main objectives and search for the Nobodies, and I think if we had people would be annoyed since that arc already took a very long time (and, for what it's worth, rather like Fjord, Ashton has explicitly asked after The Nobodies. Do not mistake lack of payoff for character disinterest).

It is, to me, incredibly telling this criticism is most commonly seen about the two players who I think also get the most "well they had an central arc/more focus than my fave" criticism.There's no way to make everyone in the fandom happy, and I think Travis and Taliesin are the players at the table who most understand that and give the least fucks about what the fandom thinks, and who (possibly relatedly) have some of the strongest grasps of narrative and what it means to play in an ensemble. Which is in my opinion a major factor in why their characters are so good - even the ones I do not vibe with are fully realized and well-crafted, because the players are not trying to make likeable characters, but rather interesting ones, and they're not trying to take center stage, but rather be generous at the table.

[ismisetk]

Agatha All Along finale thoughts pt. 3!

Spoilers…

If someone interrupted me like that after I just finished burying my child and I had the power/backstory Agatha had, I’d con/kill them too.

“The truth is too awful” - it isn’t that losing Nicky to natural causes is worse than willingly trading him for the darkhold, it’s that it was so ordinary and she wasn’t strong enough to stop it. “Sometimes, boys die.” She knows deep down that she got more time than what was promised and she hates herself for wanting him too much. For being so human and vulnerable. And she turned the song they had made together into something that helped do the one thing he had asked her to stop doing.

No wonder Agatha was able to figure out Lorna’s ballad was a protection spell so quickly - she probably cried the first time she heard it. It was always about mothers guiding their children to a safer destination than they themselves had came from.

Alice’s death was sad but it was also so very real. We don’t always get the chance to live our lives. And sometimes people die in the protection of others because they are truly that selfless and brave.

I really don’t think she knew it was Jen that she had bound. The way she spoke to Jen when she was panicking, how she talked about leaving her alone because what she was doing was important. Agatha’s first wound was her mother and the last one she allowed to be inflicted on her was losing her son. She doesn’t mess with mothers and their children. Even with Wanda - I believe she was genuine in offering to fix Wanda’s spell so she could live with her kids and Vision. She wanted to teach Wanda how to control her magic and keep the family she had created out of chaos.

Agatha gave birth in the middle of the woods, all alone, and yet she still silenced herself? She must have been terrified. She’s clearly left some place in the middle of labor, was she chased out of town?

Agatha can be good, but even when she isn’t, she is still worthy of love. But no one has shown her that, except Nicky. Even with Rio, I think Agatha believes their relationship to be transactional. Agatha gives her bodies, Rio loves her. I’m not saying that’s correct but I think it’s what Agatha views as the core of their relationship. Especially after the night Nicky died when she didn’t provide the witches.

She isn’t a hero, but I don’t think she is a villain. At least not anymore. I think she has no idea who she is without her magic and reputation shrouding her or the darkhold corrupting her. The only times she didn’t have those, she was a scared young girl or a mother on borrowed time.

I think she turned around at the end because she was just so tired. She got all her power back but if she left Billy to die then she would be throwing back all the growth she had gained through walking the road. I think she’s self-aware enough to realize that even if the road wasn’t real, she was still changed by the experience. She uses the advice/expertise of her coven members, she doesn’t drain Billy dry. As she’s walking away I think it crystallizes that she can get peace on her own terms rather than give into her darkest instincts. No it wasn’t how Nicky died, there was nothing to be done for that, she realizes she truly couldn’t save him and neither could Rio. However, she can save this boy. She thinks it’ll make Nicky proud, or at least start to make a dent in what she perceives to be her list of faults that she’s added to since his death. I also think it was her way to show Rio that she forgave her.

When she says she can’t face him, I still believe that. She has had hundreds of years without him, betraying his memory in her mind, but there is still a boy who she can help. She knows Nicky is safe with Rio.

She is absolutely hilarious and should have some down time to just chill tf out and go to therapy.

[winchesterdreamgirl88]

A Future Without Betrayal

Pairing: Grant Ward/Skye

Warnings: None

Summary: In this universe Grant was able to redeem himself and he's back working for Shield and he and Skye just want to have their happy ending together.

Word Count:992

A/n: This is my first story for this fandom so let me know if it's good or bad. Reblogs and feedback is always appreciated:)

In the world of SHIELD, things rarely stayed calm for long. The constant battle between right and wrong, the grey area where nothing was ever truly black or white, tested the very core of its agents. But for once, there was a flicker of peace — a delicate and hard-earned peace.

Grant Ward stood by the Quinn jet, watching the sun dip below the horizon, casting a fiery glow over the base. The hum of the aircrafts, the sounds of agents prepping for their next missions — all of it felt normal. But for Ward, it felt different this time. He wasn’t staring out at the world with the weight of a past full of betrayal and secrets. He wasn’t plotting how to bring SHIELD to its knees. For once, Grant Ward was where he belonged, fighting for the same cause as the people he cared about most.

The world had changed. And so had he.

It wasn’t an easy road. He had spent years struggling with the duality of his nature — his loyalty to SHIELD constantly battling against the dark pull of HYDRA, the organization that had twisted his very identity. But with each passing day, each mission completed with a sense of purpose, Ward had found his way back to who he truly was: an agent, fighting for the good that had once been his guiding light.

And there was someone who had always believed in him. Skye.

Skye, the hacker-turned-agent who had never given up on him. The woman who had seen his potential even when he was lost, even when he had made mistakes he couldn’t undo. She had stood by his side through thick and thin, showing him the possibility of redemption. The way she looked at him, with eyes full of hope, was the light that had guided him through the darkest moments of his life.

Ward glanced over to where she stood near the command center, talking with Coulson and May. Her laugh — that sound he had come to cherish — floated over to him. He couldn’t help but smile. They had been through so much, the two of them. But now, they were building something real, something that neither of them had thought possible.

"Hey, you’re staring again," a voice said, and Ward turned to see Jemma walking towards him. She smirked at him, crossing her arms.

"Am I?" he asked, his voice teasing.

"Yeah, and I know that look," Jemma said, grinning. "She’s over there, and you’re thinking you got lucky."

Ward chuckled. "I’m thinking I’m the lucky one."

Jemma raised an eyebrow. "Well, don’t mess it up this time, big guy."

He nodded seriously. "I won’t."

Jemma nodded, seemingly satisfied with his answer, and then left him to his thoughts. Ward took a deep breath and approached Skye, who had just finished speaking with Coulson. She caught sight of him and smiled, her eyes soft and warm. She didn’t need to ask; she could tell he was lost in thought.

"Everything okay?" she asked, her voice gentle.

"Yeah," Ward replied, walking closer. "Just thinking about how far we’ve come."

Skye tilted her head. "Far, huh? You mean the whole ‘ex-HYDRA agent trying to redeem himself’ thing?"

"Exactly that," he said with a smile. "It feels like a lifetime ago."

"It kind of was," she said, her smile becoming more thoughtful. "But you’re here now. And I’m here, too."

His heart skipped a beat, and he couldn’t help but reach for her hand. "We made it, Skye. Together."

She nodded, squeezing his hand in return. "We did. And we’re not done yet."

Ward looked at her, the woman who had given him something to fight for. In her, he saw a future — one without the weight of betrayal, without the lies and the bloodshed. He saw hope. He saw love.

“I’ve been thinking,” Ward said, his voice suddenly serious. “I don’t need the redemption anymore. I don’t need to prove anything. I just want... this. I want you, Skye. I want our future.”

Her eyes softened, and a small, knowing smile tugged at her lips. “I want that too,” she said quietly, then raised an eyebrow. “But we’re not talking about just our future as agents, are we?”

Ward’s smile widened as he pulled her closer. “No, not just that.”

The sound of footsteps approaching interrupted them. May and Coulson stood just a few feet away, watching the exchange with subtle smiles.

“Well, I suppose it’s about time,” Coulson said, his tone dry but warm.

"Time for what?" Skye asked, confused.

"For you two to admit it," May added, crossing her arms. "I think everyone’s been waiting for you to catch up."

Skye blushed but didn’t pull away from Ward’s embrace. "Catch up? We’re just trying to get through each day."

"One day at a time," Coulson agreed. "But there’s no reason why you shouldn’t have happiness along the way."

May nodded. "Exactly."

Ward glanced at the two of them and then back at Skye. "I think we’re doing just that."

As they all stood there, the sun finally set, leaving behind a sky full of stars — a symbol of hope for the future. The future that Ward had once believed was beyond reach. But now, with Skye by his side and SHIELD as his ally, he had everything he needed.

For the first time in a long time, Grant Ward felt like he was home.

And this time, there would be no betrayals. Just a chance to build a life — together.

---

As they walked off into the base together, hands clasped tightly, it wasn’t just the mission that held their attention. It was the quiet moments that mattered now. The ones they could finally share without fear.

The road ahead was still uncertain. There would always be threats, dangers, and difficult choices to face. But as long as they had each other, they knew they could face anything — together.

[wompwomp-1mh3re]

You’re the salt air, I’m the suitcase

One way ticket to a new a place

You can zip up

All of my of love

But it would spill out

Cause it weighs too much

Buck is sat on Eddie’s couch, the revelation that Eddie too is leaving sinking in deep. He’ll be getting on a plane and heading off to Texas, another person Buck cares greatly for leaving. He can’t leave though, sure he doesn’t want to miss out on more of Christopher’s big moments but Buck needs him like he needs air to live. The two of them are intertwined in every sense of being, wherever Eddie is Buck is sure to follow but Texas is too far Buck can’t leave behind the 118, he can’t leave his family. Eddie is the person who gets him, Eddie knows everything about Buck and vice versa he can’t just leave like that, no, no, no he can’t just be gone like that, like it’s as easy as that, Eddie isn’t Abby. He doesn’t know what is causing him to feel like this, yes Eddie was, is his best friend but this isn’t how someone reacts to a friend leaving.

Eddie comes over and sits next to Buck handing him a coffee which he takes and sets the tablet down. “So is this gonna be a forever thing? Why not try to convince him to come back instead of going the whole route of moving?” Buck breaks the brief silence, he hates how clingy he sounds, how needy. “You know how it’s been lately Buck, he barely talks to me let alone enough to have that kinda conversation with him,” Eddie sounds so dejected, the tiredness in his voice reaches into Buck’s chest and grips his heart tightly.

The two talked for a while discussing houses while Buck slowly died inside as he was forced to deal with the fact that he was losing his best friend. Sure they’d probably text and call but he knew how that ended, he’d seen it happen with Abby, they grew out of touch, didn’t talk after a couple of months and nothing had ever hurt Buck that badly, not his parents negligence, not leaving Maddie, not any of his breakups, this pain was raw and cut to the core of his very being and it hadn’t even happened yet, Eddie was still next to him. Why did it hurt so bad?

I’d wait, forever in your hallway

Change your colors, start to wonder, paint it over

Or stay the same

It happened, Eddie left. The house was sold, all his belongings in boxes gone, no trace of him ever being there other than the contact in Buck’s phone and the gaping hole in his being. Buck felt like it was Abby all over again but Eddie wasn’t Abby, he wouldn’t abandon Buck, right? Why did he feel this way, they were nothing more than friends so why did he feel like a brokenhearted lover? Eddie had texted him once he landed, letting Buck know he was safe but Buck couldn’t bring himself to reply, he shut off his phone and tossed it on his nightstand.

A few weeks later Buck found himself standing in the hallway outside the empty apartment that Eddie once called home, he didn’t even realize his feet had brought him there until someone tapped his shoulder and asked if he was looking into buying. He had unconsciously gone to seek out Eddie in his shitty mindset, looking for comfort in his best friend but miles now separated them.

Buck wakes at 12 on a Sunday, what’s meant to be a peaceful day off is started with a crushing headache from the binge drinking he’d done the night before, his phone buzzes on the nightstand Eddie’s contact displayed on the screen for a second before it goes away and he’s met with the notifications of multiple missed calls and unanswered texts from Eddie. Buck doesn’t think as he grabs the device and calls Eddie back, the line connects immediately. “Buck, Jesus Christ are you okay?!” Eddie’s voice is relieved yet frantic and Buck can only groan in response as it makes his head throb, he pulls the phone back a bit to quiet it. “I’m fine, did something happen? Why’d you call so many times?” Buck yawns. “Did something happen- Buck you texted me at two in the morning saying ‘I love you and I’m sorry’ where the hell did that come from? I thought you were going to kill yourself or something! You can’t scare me like that man.” “I did?” Buck pulls the phone down all the way and puts the call on speaker, opening his and Eddie’s chat. He finds the text, passing over all of Eddie’s frantic texts. “I guess I did…I don’t remember sending that or anything, god did I really drink that much last night? I dunno, but sorry Eddie I didn’t mean to worry you.” “Buck seriously are you okay? Bobby, Hen, and Chim have all texted me asking if I know what’s going on with you. And don’t bullshit me here, are you okay?” “I’m fine Eddie,” Buck lies through his teeth, “just dealing with a few minor things, I don’t know why they’re all so worried.” “Buck. They wouldn’t text if it was something minor.” “Maybe they texted you cause you’re my best friend Eddie, I talk to you about everything you know I wouldn’t hide anything from you even if I wanted to.” “Evan, you don’t make habit of drinking until you don’t remember what the hell happened and you don’t casually drop I love you’s dr-” the call suddenly cuts out and Buck curses as his phone dies and plugs it in.

Buck doesn’t bother to call back and gets up and goes to the bathroom. He stares at himself in the mirror after washing his hands, he doesn’t recognize the person staring back at him, the figure's hair is unkempt and his stubble grown out, dark bags rest under his dull eyes. Who has he become?

Chat I wrote this at early hours of the morning by bad if this is ass

Please help I want this to have some form of comfort I’m open to any ideas I kinda wanna make it so Buck shows up to Texas but idk

This is not the full work

[clean-casual-analysis]

How I’d Ruin it: Transformers

Inspired by Tyrantisterror and his “how I’d ruin it” series, I’m doing one for Transformers. I’m gonna take this one step at a time, because I’m crazy about transformers and I got a lot of thoughts on what I would do if I had three phases of a comic book.

Part One: Lore

For the general lore of this hypothetical series, I’d lean into the Primus vs Unicron storyline. Ironically appropriate for my How I’d Ruin It, because I know a good number of TF fans who prefer the quintesson origin and want to return to it. Sorry fellas, I just think the thirteen primes are neat. We also take a look into the (possible) future of the cybertronian race at the start of phase two of the hypothetical comic. I’ll be dividing this lore into ages for simplicity's sake.

Prehistory: At the very beginning of the universe, there was an omnipotent being made of light with no name. This being, referred to by cybertronian historians as The One, had cosmic powers beyond space and time. With this power, it saw into multiple timelines and dimensions out of young curiosity. There were so many different lifeforms, all with their own cultures and beliefs. There was peace and war, creation and destruction. As its knowledge grew, so did its internal conflict. Why were these unique beings fighting over seemingly pointless things? Was it individual philosophy that sparked greed and violence, or was it differing beliefs that each species held? If they were to all unite under one banner, would they lose that which made them unique. Was it morally correct for such a perfected and powerful being as The One to judge and interfere with mortals? The One had become so confused and anxious from this internal battle, that its mind and body split into two separate beings. Primus, the great creator, adored and even envied mortals. Where The One was flawless and blank, these miniscule lifeforms were varied and colorful. These beings could change and grow. Even the smallest could evolve and transform into something beautiful. Then there was his brother, a being who hated these ununiformed and petty insects. He vowed to destroy and reshape these species into a singular kingdom of rigid order. No longer would there be conflict, for he would punish and unite all as their one God. He would be Unicron, the chaos killer. These cosmically powered twins became natural enemies the moment they were created, the following battle lasting for billions of years. The battle ended in a draw, Primus and Unicron were so exhausted that both entered a deep sleep. In this coma like state, meteors and other space debris formed around them to become seemingly dormant planets.

Age of Primes: Sensing that Unicron was regaining strength and reformatting his planet into a colossal body, Primus began to plan his defense. Not wanting a repeat of their last battle, Primus decides on a different approach. He creates the thirteen primes, incredibly powerful, autonomous robots with unique abilities. Together, these thirteen would prepare for the return of Unicron and become a sort of family through their training. After the deed is done and the chaos killer is defeated from the inside of his vast body, the thirteen are left to their own devices on the metal world of Primus. As his final act, the great creator formed the well of all sparks. It was here that new robots were created and the planet would be known as Cybertron. Thirteen tribes were created, each led by a different prime, which led to the foundation of cybertronian culture. Much like previous TF stories, the thirteen primes had a falling out due to the manipulations of one manipulative and ambitious prime. The primes nearly went to war with one another, until the near death of one of their most beloved siblings shook them out of their anger. Realizing that they were not the infallible gods that they thought they were, nearly all the primes either left Cybertron or merged with the planet’s inner core. Only one prime remained to overlook the planet’s development, Alpha Trion, who gave one of the mythical artifacts of primes (the matrix) to one worthy of leadership.

Age of Function: After receiving what would later be known as the matrix of leadership, the prideful but valiant Nova Prime unified the thirteen tribes into one civilization. What follows is the planet wide construction of cities and government. Because the masses were still freshly made and unsure of their purpose in this new world, Nova decided to create functionism. Each cybertronian’s alt-mode would determine their role in creating Cybertron. At first, when the species was still relatively small in number, this system served well in accelerating Cybertron’s society. But when the contruction was near its end their optics looked towards the stars, the inherent flaws of functionism reared its ugly head. The rigid caste system quickly led to class envy and great inequality among the masses. Despite Alpha Trion’s insistence in changing this system, Nova Prime ego wouldn’t allow him to admit his prejudice. As space travel was fully realized and Nova set out to discover new worlds to colonize, his pride at his species’ accomplishments leading him down the road of becoming a cybertronian supremacist, a terrible discovery was made. During the first great battle between Primus and Unicron, their blood splashed across the galaxy. Not only were energon crystals (formed from Primus’ blood) found on foreign worlds, but the blood of Unicron was discovered as well. Before he realized what it was, dark energon infected Nova Prime and a number of his crew. They became more aggressive, burned through their energon at an alarming rate, and began to hear whispers of a dark god thought to be dead. Despite his smugness and stubbornness, Nova knew what terrible things could happen if he became Unicron’s herald. The corrupted prime gave up the matrix to the unaffected cybertronians in his crew, took those who were infected and went into deep space in self-exile. • The Golden Age: The next cybertronian to own the Matrix was Nominus Prime. Although he was overly invested in his personal appearance/hygiene and was somewhat of an elitist snob, he also possessed a good moral framework and a kind spark. His first major act as prime was the elimination of functionism, making him both beloved and hated by many. Not long after, the cybertronian race began to colonize worlds with the strict policy of not claiming worlds with significant life on them. Seemingly every new colony world produced new subcultures and different kinds of cybertronian. Although Nominus arguably just piggybacked off of other leaders and inventors, this was an age of artistry and prosperity.

Age of Rust: Seemingly out of nowhere, a slow acting but fast spreading disease began to appear across the farthest colony worlds named cosmic rust. Metal skyscrapers began to crumble, citizens were falling apart in medical beds, space bridges were forced to shut down to stop the rust from spreading. This was the first major disaster that Nominus Prime had to face and he was utterly mortified. Then, when all hope of saving the colonie and their species was lost, a strange race of techno-organics appeared. These beings were the quintessons, five faced octopus like people who claimed to be the creation of one of the thirteen prime to aid cybertronians in understanding the organic side of the galaxy. They offered a cure to cosmic rust and asked to use the space bridges to help spread the cure. Desperate to end this nightmare, Nominus gave them access to the space bridges without question. Almost immediately, he would regret this decision. These were not benevolent geniuses, but black hearted and capitalistic entrepreneurs. Not only were they the ones who invented cosmic rust, but they had created a great number of gadgets, combat drones and weapons specifically designed to annihilate cybertronians. In the blink of an eye, the whole of the cybertronian race was conquered and enslaved. Nominus was publicly executed, the matrix was taken, and the cybertronians were sold as commercial goods or military hardware to all other species in the galaxy. This would go on for thousands of years, until a hardened soldier named U-Haul began to lead a rebellion with the aid of Alpha Trion and a brilliant engineer named Termagax. The cybertronian uprising was slow and bloody, but through cleverness and determination the quintessons were defeated. The matrix was found, U-Haul had become Sentinel Prime, and the cybertronian race was free.

Age of Restraint: When the dust settled and the quintessons were driven away from the colony worlds, Sentinel Prime and Termagax went to work on rebuilding their civilization. Sentinel, having seen their kind’s technological power used against lesser beings firsthand, initiated the Nominus Edict. Unless there was unanimous agreement of every senator of Cybertron’s cities and other colony worlds, no new colonies would be made, and no technology was to be shared with other alien races. While he had the wellbeing of both his race and all other alien species in mind, his time as both slave soldier of the quintessons and uprising leader left him scarred and paranoid. Through the cybertronian government, he enforced the law to a borderline imperious degree. Termagax grew to resent Sentinal Prime, believing that the cybertronian race could thrive in the galaxy if they weren’t so restricted. She formed the Ascenticon movement, a growing group of bots who not only wanted to explore the cosmos but cooperate with the organic races that they’ve distanced themselves from. This philosophical debate between security and isolation vs freedom and alien collaboration went on for dacades, neither side quite gaining significant ground over the other. Eventually, the exhausted and embittered Termagax stepped down as Ascenticon leader and gave the reigns to her protégé. That protégé was a quintesson mining slave turned gladiatorial champion named Megatron, who had big plans of his own.

Age of Civil War: Not long after becoming leader of the Ascenticons, Megatron began to fully preach his personal doctrine. He believed that the cybertronian race deceived themselves into believing that they shouldn’t be proud of their power. The gladiator fear mongered that another species like the quintessons would conquer them if they didn’t show their dominance. True galactic peace can only be achieved through tyranny. Many cybertronians, in the ascenticon movement and beyond, were radicalized by Megatron’s words of might making right. In short time, Megatron amassed an army and called his new empire the decepticons. The mad tyrant and his followers overthrew the government and imprisoned Sentinel Prime. But much to Megatron’s surprise, the matrix did not deem him worthy of being a prime. He angrily dismissed the matrix and the lineage of primes as outdated and weak as his empire rapidly grew. Alpha Trion, sneakily taking the matrix back, set to work on creating a counter resistance to this new militaristic regime. The elderly prime already had a perfect candidate for the next prime; a former ascenticon who disavowed Megatron’s violent means of peacekeeping despite once being friends with him. A young data clerk named Orion Pax, who believed Cybertron had a responsibility to aid to those who needed it, and that freedom was the right of all sentient beings. And so, Optimus Prime was born. This counter resistance, named the autobots, grew arguably faster than the decepticons did. Cybertronians across the galaxy could see Megatron for the warmongering tyrant that he is. The civil war, waging primarily on Cybertron, lasted for eons. It all culminated in Megatron seizing Vector Sigma, a supercomputer near the well of all sparks that gave newly formed cybertronians the basic history and knowledge of their kind. The decepticon leader planned to hack Vector Sigma to forcibly program his beliefs into every new cybertronian to be protoformed. Horrified by this assault against free will, Optimus journeyed to the core of Cybertron to do something unthinkable. Through communication with Primus, the great creator poured his life-giving power into a device known as the all spark. Optimus threw the all spark into a space bridge with randomized coordinance, and it was lost to the stars. Their home planet torn apart and essentially dead, the Great War began to spread across the galaxy like wildfire. Earth, rich with crystallized energon beneath the surface, is the latest battleground.

Age of Beast Machines (possible future): Manipulating Megatron through dark energon, Unicron is revived. The very first planet destroyed is Cybertron with his new herald Galvatron and an army of terracons. The chaos killer goes on a galactic rampage, consuming stars/planets and creating heralds to spread his influence. Scrambling to save the galaxy, the remaining autobots and decepticons join forces in an effort to slay Unicron. Against all odds, they defeat the chaos killer once and for all. But their victory is bittersweet. The galaxy’s remaining stars and worlds are few and far between. The night skies feel unnaturally blackened. Their war now made pointless, the remaining cybertronians join together in rebuilding on the planet earth and the one surviving colony world known as biosfera. With virtually no energon left, the first order of business was to create a new type of fuel. The scientists of biosera, a jungle world primarily made up of beast mode cybertronians, came up with an unorthodox solution. They would alter their biology and transform into a techno-organic race, flesh and metal fused at the cellular level. Through this technology, they’d be able to live off of solar energy, need minimal energon, and even be able to consume meat and plants for substance. While a good number were hesitant to make such a radical change, they had little choice. Slowly, the cybertronian race flourished once again. Once new generations were protoformed, two sections of one government began to spread across the stars. One group was the Maximals, scientists and explorers that aided young civilizations and researched the new galaxy. The other group were the predacons, the core military that fought off space pirates and crushed growing dictatorships. Although the two groups bickered amongst themselves over their clashing ideologies and methods, they still cooperated and respected each other. But rumors are circulating that a small handful of Unicron’s heralds are still alive. If they are, their willing to bend space and time itself to assure their fallen master’s ultimate victory.

Notes: This lore is a combination of Aligned, both IDW continuities, Beast Wars/Machines and a dash of Last Autobot Standing. One major difference is that Solus Prime survives in this continuity, but we’ll get to that in the next part.