#sigh is this not the greatest love story ever told???? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

just-dreaming-marvel · 22 days ago

Text

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 65

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,180ish

Summary: Wade is back with a cure. Will you take it?

Notes: Please send in reactions! The gift really has nothing to do with the chapter, I just love it.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

Logan woke up with a pain in his neck. He grimaced as he moved his neck from side to side cracking it. Sighing, Logan finally opened his eyes and remembered where he was. Your apartment. He glanced down and a his lips pulled up into a smile. You were still asleep, cuddled up to him. His arm tightened around you. As he looked down at you, Logan wished that every morning could be like this, you asleep in his arms.

A few minutes pass and Logan decided to carry you to bed. Trying not to jostle you too much, he maneuvered you into his arms and took you to bed. He covered you up before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Peanut, Buttercup, I’m home!” Wade shouted from the living room.

Logan quickly left your bedroom, shutting the door behind him as he rushed to the living room. “Did you do it?” Logan asked. “Did you find something?”

“Well, hello to you, too, Peanut. Seems like a lot has happened since I’ve been gone. You and Buttercup—”

“Wade! Just tell me you’ve found something.”

“Oh… I struck a cord with the big bag Wolverine. Your whole world just revolves around our Little Flame, doesn’t it? You completely fell head over heels in love with her and I wasn’t even around to tease you about it. Come on,” Wade outstretched his arms, “give your favorite roomie a hug.”

“I am not giving you a hug.”

“Come on, just give Buttercup’s savior a hug.”

“So you did do it?”

“I’m not telling you anything until I get a hug.”

Logan groaned and clenched his jaw. “Fine,” he huffed.

“Yay!” Wade launched himself forward and wrapped himself around Logan. “Come on, Peanut, you have to hug back or I won’t tell you.”

Logan grunted as he allowed his arms to wrap around Wade. Laura was at the table, watching with amusement as she ate breakfast.

“What is going on here?” You asked from the hallway, having woken up from the loud voices. “Uh… should I give you two some space? Need to go have a moment alone after being separated?”

“Exactly the welcome back I was looking for,” Wade commented. He let go of Logan and immediately went over, wrapping you up in a hug. “I missed you, Buttercup. And I brought something back with me. Which,” he turned and shook his finger and Logan, “I told you not to tell anyone about my little mission, and Little Wolf over there clearly knew.”

“I didn’t tell her,” Logan said. “I only told Y/N.”

“And I didn’t tell her,” you added.

“Oh, please,” Laura spoke up, “it was obvious what Wade was off trying to do. No one needed to tell me anything.”

“Okay, well, it’s time for story time with Deadpool!” Wade announced. “Every one sit back, relax and enjoy the show!”

~~~

Wade was as animated as ever as he told the story. Wade had found a universe that had an Ember with phoenix abilities on a superhero team that was a combination of the X-Men and the Avengers. The different version of you didn’t have the same problem that you were having. But using her and the files that Wade had on you, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Jean Grey, and Hank McCoy were able put together something.

“You should have seen it!” Wade exclaimed. “Some of the greatest minds in the multiverse, all working together to save our Little Flame! I should have taken a video. It was amazing!”

“Will it work?” Logan wondered, failing to keep his hopes at bay.

“Well, we didn’t exactly have anyone to test it on, but Stark’s fancy AI ran multiple simulations and they seemed very hopeful.”

You were staring at the vial of red liquid in Wade’s hand as everyone else in the room stared at you. Your thoughts were spiraling as you thought of the consequences of taking this cure that Wade had managed to find.

“Mom?” Laura pulled you from your thoughts. “What are you thinking?”

“I… Well, first, thank you Wade, for trying to find something. For risking yourself. It means so much more to me than you’ll ever know… But I can’t take it.”

“What?” Logan questioned.

“I can’t take it. At least, not yet.”

“Why not?” Logan was growing angry. Wade had potentially found a way to keep you with them longer—to keep you with him—and you were just going to throw that away?

“Because Wade can’t promise us that this will actually work. What if I take it and die instantly? What if I take it only to then die a slow and painful death? I don’t want any of you to have to witness any of the possibilities that my mind has come up with.”

“Doll, you’re dying a slow and painful death right now.”

“Yes, but it could be a lot worse. I want to live as much as I can while I can. And when the time comes that there is really no other option, I will consider taking the cure… I’m sorry. I can’t take the risk of losing time with you all. Can you understand that?” You looked at each of them. “Can you all respect my choice?” They remained silent. “Wade, I’m sorry if this upsets you. If I—“

“Hold it right there, Buttercup,” Wade interrupted, stepping closer to you and placing his hands on your shoulders. “This doesn’t upset me at all. This is your choice. And I will respect it. You want to live life the best you can for as long as you can? Then that’s what I’ll help you do.”

“Me, too, mom,” Laura stepped up. “However long we have.”

You gave them both a tight lipped smile before focusing on Logan. You could see the conflict behind his eyes. Logan was torn between forcing the liquid from the vial down your throat and obeying your wishes. He wanted more time. It’s something he felt was always slipping through his fingers despite the long lifespan. But you had a point, if the cure didn’t work, then taking it would only take you from them—from him sooner. And Logan wasn’t sure if he’d survive that.

“Lo?” You whispered, unable to wait for an answer any longer.

“I’m with you, darlin’,” Logan responded. “Whatever you need.”

You felt immense relief, but weren’t able to say anything before Wade beat you do it.

“Wait, Lo?” Wade questioned. “Is that what we’re calling him now?”

“Just her,” Laura smirked.

“Oh, really? Not as good as Peanut or Honey Badger but it will—“

“Not now, Wade,” Logan growled.

“Okay, okay,” Wade put his hands up. “But we,” he motioned between himself and you, “are so talking about this later.”

“Thank you for understanding,” you changed the subject back.

“I want you to keep this.” Wade offered you the vial.

You shook your head. “No. Keep it. I don’t want it near me.” You leaned close and pressed a kiss to Wade’s cheek. “Thank you for trying. I’m going to go get ready for the day. I have to go to work early.”

The three watched as you slipped into the bathroom.

“Well, I guess that I’ll keep this baby,” Wade shook the vial, “in a safe place.”

“Give it to, Logan,” Laura said.

“What?” Logan breathed out.

“You are the one I trust the most to kept it safe and to help do what needs to be done with the time comes.”

“Hey!” Wade exclaimed. “I found it!”

“And you did great, Wade. But I think it needs to go to Logan.”

“Fine,” Wade huffed, tossing the vial to Logan, who caught it. Wade yawned, dramatically stretching out. “Well, I need some sleep. Come on, Peanut.”

“What? Why?” Logan questioned.

“Because we need to talk before I hit the hay.” Wade went over to Logan and began pushing him out of the apartment. “See ya later, Little Wolf!” Logan and Wade entered their apartment, Wade slamming the door behind them. “What the actually fuck?! How have you not asked her out yet?!”

“It’s none of your damn business.”

“It kinda is! The tension between the two of you has increased by like a billion times and I totally saw you two asleep, cuddling on the couch earlier! Make a fucking move already!”

“It’s not that easy! I have no idea if she feels the same—“

“Then you are utterly stupid and your old age has caught up to your eyes!”

Logan shook his head and turned to look away from Wade. “What if I let her down? What if I fail her like I failed her in my universe?”

Wade scoffed. “You cannot be serious, Peanut. Fail her? You don’t have that in you, Howlett. I have watched you practically move heaven and earth to make her feel safe and wanted. You don’t have it in you to fail our Little Flame.”

The vial rolled around in Logan’s hand. “Thank you… For finding something, even though we don’t know if it will work and she didn’t take it… Thank you for trying.”

“Anything for my favorite couple. Now, I was serious when I said that I’m tired. But, one last word of advice, don’t wait to ask her. We don’t know know how many good days she has left and if this cure will work when she chooses to take it. Stop wasting time. You may have a good hundred years more, but her clock is ticking, Peanut. Don’t wait too long, only to regret it later.”

~~~

You were on Logan’s mind all day. You and Wade’s words about not wasting anymore time. He wasn’t try to waste time, at least that’s what he believed. What if you weren’t ready? What if he did something that pushed you away for good? At this point, Logan was sure that he couldn’t live without you. He is completely content to just be a friend in your life. To just love you without your love in return. He could live with that. But Wade had a point. Would he regret not trying something when it came down to it?

You could tell that Logan was stuck in his own mind, but didn’t push it as he helped you close up the bar. The two of you started walking home in silence. Logan’s hand that was nearest to you kept clenching and unclenching. He was debating on reaching for your hand, simply to see what would happen when he made a small move. So, taking a deep breath, Logan brushed his hand against yours. You immediately took a sharp inhale at the contact. Logan did it again, this time moving his fingers around your hand.

You yanked your hand away, immediately regretting it. You had simply become too self conscious of your hands because of how scarred they now were. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Logan’s face fall and his hands get stuffed into his jacket pockets. Guilt gnaws at you and you hate that you let your insecurities get the better of you. So you took a deep breath and looped your arm through Logan’s and leaned into him. Logan’s eyes went wide before he looked down at you. You can feel the tension release from his body as the two of you lean into each other.

The two of you walk slower, but it didn’t matter. You were both enjoying the silent time together and the connection. When the two of you finally reached your apartment door, you reluctantly pulled away.

“Thanks for walking me back, Lo,” you said quietly. There was something charged and changed between the two of you and you didn’t know what to do with it.

“Anytime, doll,” the edges of his lips barely lifted up, but it was enough for you to consider it a smile. “I… uh… I… Well, I was wondering if you, ummm, if you… you eat?”

“If I eat?”

“Fuck.” He raked his hand through his hair as he looked down at his feet, clearly nervous. “Of course you eat, we’ve had meals together. I’m a complete dumbass. What I’m meaning to say is… well, I… would you… I was wondering if you would like to do something tomorrow night… with me? Just the two of us.”

“Like a… date?”

“Uh, yes. Of course, if you don’t want to, please know that I take no offense. I know that this is—“

“Lo, stop, stop,” you placed a hand on his chest to try to stop his rambling.

You paused as you could feel his rapidly beating heart. He was so nervous and it was both heartwarming and funny. You could feel your own heart begin to race. This was a big question he was asking and you knew that it could change the dynamics of your relationship. Were you willing to take that risk? You looked in Logan’s eyes and felt the safety and comfort that only came with him.

“I’d love to go on a date with you, Lo.”

next chapter >

57 notes · View notes

two-white-butterflies · 2 months ago

Text

CHANGED | part one

Description: You have found that there are different types of love. Self-serving ones who grovel when abandoned in pity for themselves. However, there is another greater form of love, one that creates life. What happens when your husband uses you in the creation of the rings?

Pairing: Annatar/Reader reincarnation trope that i am a sucker for

Mairon — admirable, splendid, and gorgeous.

Your husband is perhaps the greatest maia to ever grace the lands, his gentle touch, his kind smile, his beautiful auburn hair — and his strong shoulders that you have found yourself massaging as of the late. "You are spending far too much time in Lord Aulë's smiths." You opened your mouth to speak, while continuing to massage his back.

"We are doing good work, my love." He defends.

The way that his eyes glitter at the slight of crafting, he brings the finest little treasures to your shared home every day. He creates stories behind the treasures, claiming them to have come from distant lands — you always answer him with a giggle, and he finishes every tale by telling you that he only made it up.

"We spend little time together. I've missed you." You sigh.

He turns to look at you — his eyebrows merged together, eyes filled with concern. "I apologize, lover." He pouts, and you press a kiss to his lips. "...and our child has longed for you too." You place a hand on your stomach. "Aulë says that a great darkness grows," Mairon says.

Goosebumps travel down your spine as you remember whispers of Melkor's darkness, he has always gone against Eru Illuvatar. "He visited the gardens yesterday, Iellas and I were looking for fruits for today's feast. He spoke to us, told us that this world is flawed." You informed, feeling the dread pool in the pit of your stomach.

Mairon rises to his feet.

He looks deep inside of your eyes, searching for any trace of — an emotion that you are unfamiliar with. "You must not speak of that encounter to anyone else, tell Iellas to do the same," Mairon commanded, his voice firm.

"We must tell someone. If Melkor seeks to sew discord — create a conflict that cannot be resolved by mere words, then the very peace of our realm is thrown in limbo." You whispered, afraid that anyone else would be able to hear. "Eru Illuvatar sees all." Mairon affirmed.

You wanted to argue with him — tell him that a dark cloud follows after Melkor, a cloud that you are sure obscures Illuvatar's vision. You stare deep into his eyes again, allowing those sea-green orbs to bring you peace. Mairon knows better. His power exceeds yours.

"— as his children, we must fight against temptation. It is our test." His eyebrows relaxed, but you could sense that there was a deeper meaning to his words. In his eyes, you could see conflict, of both light and darkness, of safety and reckoning. "I see no future in following Melkor's faith. No one shall follow after him, for no one shall desire to leave this paradise." You stated.

Valinor is beautiful — its green fields, warmth, and its promise of eternal peace. Only a fool would leave. Only a fool would follow after a dark mist of dread.

He cups your cheeks with his hands. He presses a soft kiss on your lips. You inhale his scent of roses. "We do not have to worry about that — because we are safe here. The whims of the Valar are beyond our hold, we can only do what makes us happy." He smiles.

"I love you, lover."

"I love you most,"

Mairon slowly turned distant after that, he'd make up excuses — tell you that there was work needed to be done in Lord Aulë's smiths. He'd wake up early in the morning and sleep late in the night. He'd whisper in your ears — all the ways that this world is flawed, all the creations of Illuvatar that are broken.

His songs, which used to feel like feathers and bamboo leaves, now turned grim, reminding you of rocks grinding upon rocks. You tried to intervene...you tried to help him, but one day he just left, without a note, without a word, without a goodbye.

The light that used to fill your child with strength now dwindled like their father — their movements became little, until one day, you were sure that there was no longer life inside of your stomach.

"You are the fairest of Illuvatar's creations," Yavanna's voice echoed throughout the large chambers. "I feel your light." She adds.

"Lady Yavanna, there is no life left for me to live." You opened your mouth to speak, and after centuries of crying and mourning your beloved and child, all joy has shaken off your body.

You kept your eyes on the floor, bowing in the presence of the Valar. Great darkness has consumed these lands and corrupted its people, even your husband, who was more powerful than you. "The Grey Havens exist to provide us with peace. It saddens me that you cannot find it here," Yavanna tilts her head.

"I do not wish to be...How I am jealous of mankind, for their souls can leave this sphere, unlike mine, unlike ours." You breathed.

How beautiful it must be, the feeling of release. The feeling of not having to be in this world anymore, simply a spirit or an energy that floats, incapable of thought, incapable of action, finished in existing.

"It is not death that your spirit seeks, but the privilege of forgetting." Yavanna looks deep inside your thoughts, feeling your memories flow through her veins. "Do you wish to forget, child? To have a new beginning?" She inquires, she is not the most merciful of the Valar, but she sees herself inside of you — she loves Aulë in the same way that you love Mairon, and the thought of her lover being pried out of her hands, it makes her shiver.

"If you will allow me, my lady." You say with hidden pleading.

Yavanna raises her hand — and everything turns to black.

Halbrand — veiled, hidden, shadowed.

You always hated staring at the sea, your mother says that the Grey Havens are always waiting for you out there — but it sounds so dreadful being stuck there, unable to do anything, unable to speak to any other creature besides elf and valar.

But now, you are stuck in the middle of sea, drowning because you refused to learn how to swim.

"Help me, please!" You scream, and a man helps you on his raft. The 'man' gives you a thin-lipped smile, saving you before you can inhale seawater. A cough escapes your mouth, feeling the unforgiving sun kiss your bare skin. "Thank you," you breathed.

The man standing in front of you is ... strange.

He has long brown hair that reaches past his neck. He has a charming beard and a mysterious fea. "What are you called?" He asks, feeling waves of familiarity crash over his body.

This elf maiden standing in front of him — with raven black hair and piercing purple eyes, he feels something hidden inside of her. 'I love you, lover.' His wife's voice floods his thoughts. Halbrand is in this raft because of you — because he wants to chafe his knees, earn his spot back in the Grey Havens, earn his spot back to you.

"Artanis," you say, your name sounds like a prayer.

Artanis, one of the names that he was supposed to give his child. He closes his eyes for a second, imagining his child standing in front of him, a smile ghosts his lips, how old was the child now? Ten thousand years? Fifteen thousand years? He has lost count in Morgoth's caves.

Will he even recognize you or his child? Will he even be allowed to see his family?

"I am Halbrand," he introduces himself.

"...and what are you doing here, Halbrand?" You raise an eyebrow.

"I cannot tell you, fair-Artanis." He chides.

You kept your distance from him, instead, choosing to sit on the farthest corner of the raft, intending to jump ship the moment that this blasted thing touches land.

Halbrand continues thinking about you, unaware that you are sitting right in front of him. "Where is your raft headed?" You asked, he tilted his head — for a second, your voice sounded so familiar. "...I doubt that we will be able to find safety until landfall." You added.

He chooses to ignore your chatty mouth.

"You are a deserter, aren't you?" He says with certainty. Nothing has changed with these elves, they've always run with their tails in between their legs.

Your eyebrows merged together, offended at his insinuation. "Do I have the look of a deserter?" You raised an eyebrow.

Halbrand admits you have the grace of a noble woman, the light of the two trees hiding behind your eyes. He chuckles, he must've wounded your vanity.

"You don't have the look of someone to whom things happen by accident," he teases, his eyes trailing back and forth between your eyes and your lips. The way that your waterline looks...no, it is the sea that is making him remember these memories of you. Of your warm hands massaging his back, of your fingers gently braiding his hair.

"Which means you were running. Whether toward or from something, I haven't decided." He placed a finger on his lips, pretending to be deep in thought.

You have landed right inside of his raft, it is biblical.

"Duty demanded that I return to Middle Earth. That is all that you need to know."

"Important Elf business, no doubt."

"What have Elves ever done to you?" You snapped.

You had already finished your studies by the time Halbrand learned to walk. Speaking from experience, it is always the youngest ones that have a lot to say!

"Do you blame us for your being stranded here?" You queried. Horrible people have horrible stories to tell. "Worry not, Artanis, it was not the elves that chased me from my homeland. It was the darkness that I am sure still remains there." Halbrand looks off to the far distance.

"Your home, where is it?"

"What's it matter? It's gone now." Halbrand interrupts. The light of the sun casts an eerie glow on his face. "I know something of the pain you carry. My father dedicated himself to eradicating darkness. My mother — she lost herself to temptation." You shared.

Your mother was one of the few people that Sauron stole from the Grey Havens. He sewed chaos into the very realm that he once promised to protect. "Morgoth has done terrible things to my kind," you continued. "— my aunt, her husband was Mairon before he became Sauron."

His eyes widen slightly, but his face shifts back to normal before you can notice. "Your aunt, did you know her?" He cannot fight against the urge to ask a question — even when it is uncharacteristic of Halbrand.

"She begged Yavanna to grant her new life. I was born centuries after her spirit left the Grey Havens." You informed. "...and her spirit, where is it now?" Halbrand tried to make his voice sound curious — like something that a human would say after hearing a tale about elves.

"Not even Yavanna knows," your lips pursed into a thin line.

Silence permeates throughout the atmosphere. You turned to look at him again. "What's that around your neck? Is that a mark of your people's king?" You stared at his neck.

"My people have no king," his voice turns cold.

He cannot return to the Grey Havens now. He must find you.

"But if they did, where might that kingdom be found?" You asked with furrowed eyebrows, a plan beginning to form. "What if I told you we might be able to reclaim it?" You say, hoping to ignite a fire of hope in his heart.

Halbrand will be useful to you.

"I am afraid you are short an army," Halbrand scoffs. There was something inside of him that shifted — like mechanical gears suddenly turning in the other direction. Darkness follows him, and engulfs his figure, but you are unable to see it, thinking of it as nothing but his strong fea.

"Leave the army to me." You state with confidence.

"Do you usually plan or do these schemes come to you in dreams?" Halbrand stares. "Why're you stranded at sea, anyways?" He interrogates.

"Because rather than rest in glory, I chose to seek out the very enemy responsible for your suffering." You raise your chin.

"Look, Artanis. You didn't cause my suffering, and you can't fix it." Halbrand breathes.

"I have pursued this foe since before the first sunrise bloodied the sky. It will take longer than your lifetime even to speak the names of those they have taken from me." You argued, he cannot help but roll his eyes again.

If only you knew.

"If you want to murder orcs and settle a score, that is your affair. Don't dress it up as heroism." He spat.

"Are you going to tell me where the enemy is or not?"

"The Southlands." He finally answers. His plan is already fully formed inside of his head.

"I need to know how many the enemy were, under whose banner they marched, and then you are going to take me to their last-known location." You demanded.

Seeing as his wife was no longer in the Grey Havens, and his child could have traveled to Middle Earth during the interim. He could only purse his lips before saying: "Alright, Elf." He relents.

But the moment that you find out about the truth.

It shall not be his fault.

PART TWO ||

COMMENT TO GET TAGGED

#annatar x reader #sauron x reader #mairon x reader #halbrand x reader

91 notes · View notes

moonmeg · 2 years ago

Text

"So, tell me! Where have you been all this time?", Cat asked handing her old friend a mug while sitting down on the sofa herself.

Breena accepted the mug smiling and crossed her legs before she began telling her tale.

"Well, it started with me traveling around the Isles. I wanted adventure, I wanted to see new things and so I packed my things and went."

"Your parents never told us that.", Catherine frowned.

When Ahana and her noticed Breena was gone not even Breena's parents knew where exactly their daughter was. All they had was a note saying to not worry, she'll be fine. Breena didn't have the best relationship with her parents and Catherine remembered the red-haired girl as a fierce and quite rebellious individual - the fact Breena left was not as big a surprise as it should've been. Yet Catherine and Ahana couldn't believe their trio was down to a duo over night and the news hit them hard. The hurt healed over the years whenever they convinced each other Bree is alright wherever she was. They knew their friend after all. Breena was perfectly capable of fending for her own.

"Prolly cause they dinna know either. I dinna tell anyone where I went. Even though it hurt me to leave Ana and ye behind.", Bree mirrored Cat's frown. She took a sip from the mug.

"Without a goodbye.", Cat added. Though what had happened was almost twenty years in the past by now the aching in Cat's heart upon learning she lost a friend, unknowing if she'll ever see her again, still lingered deep.

Breena glanced at Cat. She saw the hurt her friend was feeling and found herself confronted with one of her greatest fears: Having brought pain to a person important to her. It's what she tossed and turned around in bed for even years after she had left. She never wanted to see Cat or Ahana be sad through fault of hers, yet here she was facing the consequences of her own betrayal to herself.

"Forgive me, please. I regretted it every night.", she leaned forward urgently.

Cat looked up at Breena and softly smiled. She reached for her hand and reassured her friend: "Bree... no hard feelings. I forgave you years ago."

Breena sighed in relief. It seemed a big rock finally loosened from her heart. At least she could have Catherine back as a friend. Whether or not Ahana has forgiven or would forgive her and accept her as a friend again she couldn't tell -neither could Cat- but Breena would try to gain it.

Genuine smiles of happiness and gratitude were exchanged before Cat asked Breena to please continue with her story. It had been sixteen years since they last saw each other and Breena had at least one child now. Cat was beyond curious on how that happened. She remembered that in the trio Cat was the only one to ever positively speak of having a family and children. Neither Breena nor Ahana mentioned the wish to become mothers one day. And yet Robyn was playing with Micah down the hall in Robyn's room.

The red-haired woman smiled and continued:

"On my travels I landed at a small tavern. I originally only wanted to get a drink and maybe ask where I could find more provisions. There... there was this pretty lad who caught my attention. We started talking and learned the tavern belonged to his aunt. He himself was son to a farmer at the same village. He offered me a stay at the farm for the night as it was gettin' late, I accepted and one night turned into two, two into three and three nights into weeks."

Bree began to smile sheepishly. Her cheeks slightly flushing a light pink, causing her freckles to stand out more. It was obvious she told this from a feeling of fondness and genuine love. Whoever that "pretty lad" was, he had Bree's full adoration.

Catherine smirked kmowingly and tilted her head: "I doubt it was the fields and animals of the farm that made you stay."

"Course not.", Breena laughed, "I stayed because of my sweet goldie."

"Goldie?", Cat raised a brow in curiosity.

Breena gave her a glance and then stared into the mug. She ran her finger up and down the porcelain surface. Her lips never broke the smile. On the contrary: her face only softened at the image of her husband before her inner eye.

"Aye, his eyes are golden. So I started callin' him that and it kind of developed into a pet name.", she chuckled.

"Well, time went by and things started takin' their rolls. Pinin' turned to a relationship, a relationship turned to an engagement, engagement to a pregnancy and so on and so on."

"So you weren't married yet when you had your first child, eh?"

Cat took a sip as she continued to listen to her friend's story attentively.

"No, no, by the time the bairn was born I was already Mrs. Bower. But I take no shame in admitting Makenna was conceived before that. Titan, some people have a lover and bairns but never married and there's nothin' wrong with that."

"No, of course not!", Catherine held up a hand in defense, "I'm surprised you got married and had children at all. The Bree I remember never seemed like the type to do so."

Breena shrugged.

"People change. 'Specially once love is involved.", her lips curved into a small, fond smile again. The type of smile you wear when you think of your beloved. "My 16 year old self wouldn't believe I'm a wife and mother either.", she turned to Cat again with a laugh.

Catherine joined in on the laugh. Suddenly it felt like they were children again. Sitting by each other and laughing together. Breena may have changed as person but her laugh remained as contagious and loud as ever.

"You have how many?", she asked. The curiosity once again got the better of her.

"Three. Micah's the youngest. And the only boy.", Bree chuckled and sipped from the mug.

Cat, thinking she is sly, replied: "So there's two copies of you waiting at home, huh?"

Her friend scoffed.

"The only thing they copied from me are the freckles. They are copies of their father. Brunette, golden eyes, the same smile, the same face. Micah's the only one to get my red hair additionally to the freckles.", she laughed and sat down more comfortably on the sofa.

Tilting the mug around in circles on her lap she grinned. "Seems our sons take more after us. Robyn is like a carbon copy of ye. A few differences here and there o' course. Surely from the father?"

"Yeah.", Catherine stiffened. She hated that she did. She hated she was still so affected by Caleb's death. She hated her facade of the strong, single mother was so thin and easily breakable. Thankfully, she thought, Breena didn't notice it.

Instead, the freckled woman gleefully leaned back on the sofa, placing her arm on the back of if.

"It's yer turn now. Tell me what I missed in yer life.", Bree tilted her head as she let it rest on her knuckles.

Cat stared blankly and almost automatically started tapping her nails on the mug. She quickly gathered herself again and stuttered:

"Ah- uhm... well, I'll uh I'll spare you the first sob story of my first relationship. Let's just say I was left a heartbroken fool when mh partner left me for another."

"Left ye?", Breena's smile faded.

"For another?", her brows furrowed.

"How dare they?! What's their name? I'll-", she drew a circle into the air and the mug loudly hit the little table in front of the sofa.

Much like Ahana, Breena was ready to hurt whoever dared to hurt Cat. They knew Cat was able to take care of people like that herself but it was just this urge to defend and stand up for Cat no matter what.

"It doesn't matter, Bree. I was twenty when that happened after all.", Catherine cut her off and hoped Bree would let it go. She almost pleaded her to with the look on her face.

Breena kept her angry face but sank into the sofa again. Catherine spoke of that first relationship with such ease that it left Breena to believe she had moved on from it a long time ago and so she calmed down and loosened up the tension in her body.

Cat broke the eye contact with Breena as she thought about how much into detail she wants to go with the love story she shared with Caleb. How much she could go into detail without suddenly breaking into tears uncontrollably.

"Four years down the line, I had put a wall around me and swore off love to avoid being hurt again. Little did I know, the walls I built could so easily be crumbled... and all it took was a young man with short blond hair and the warmest brown eyes. A little frail but handsome. A bit awkward but kind and affectionate. I didn't want to admit it at first but had to give in to the fact that my heart beat faster and louder when he was with me... my blondie. My Caleb.", she smiled in a mix of melancholy and fondness. The images flashing before her when she closed her eyes were so vibrant and clear still. They always were.

She reached for the ring on the silk band around her neck.

"I loved him. I loved him like I never thought I could love someone. Titan, I still do!"

A moment of silence.

Bree eyed her friend worried. It was obvious now that this story does not have a happy ending either.

"But he's not here anymore, is he?", Bree asked.

Catherine shook her head slowly.

"Some people...", Bree scoffed again and crossed her arms in front of her chest, "the audacity they have! You don't deserve that, Cat! To be left alone with a child to raise! The least he could do is show himself to the child he partook in creating."

"Oh, no, Bree, you got it all wrong!", Cat leaned forward towards the other woman, "He didn't abandon me and is now living a life without me and Robyn! He... he was taken from us. Brutally and coldly. By someone he trusted."

The grip on the ring around her neck fastened, as if cenching to it would bring Caleb back.

Breena sat in shock, mouth ajar. It took her a little to get another sound out. She wasn't sure what to say. Wasn't sure what to do.

"Ye- ye're a... a widow?", she asked with hesitation. The information still not fully processed and still in a bit of denial that her friend had to experience her husband dying. That she had to bury the love of her life...

Catherine nodded in confirmation.

"Oh, sweet Titan...", Breena breathed and looked her friend up and down, unsure where to focus on, "Cathy, I-", she began and didn't know how to continue the sentence.

"I'm so sorry!"

"It's alright. I learned to live with it.", Cat tried her best to give a smile.

"But ye shouldna have to! A widow at thirty! That's horrible!", Breena grabbed Catherine by her arm in haste. She began stroking her thumb on Cat's sleeve in an attempt to show comfort.

She projected the situation her friend was in on her own life. The thought of being widowed, of losing her husband, the father of her children, someone so dear and important to her was torturous enough. To actually live through it is something Breena couldn't fathom.

Cat took Bree's freckled hands.

"It's alright, Bree, really. It- it still hurts but Roby and I visit his grave every weekend. I tell him stories and we pretend Caleb is with us, sitting and listening.", she genuinely smiled. However, there was a certain sadness lingering in her teal eyes, Bree noticed. It was almost painful to see Cat like this. It felt worse knowing there was barely anything she could do to help Cat. And it felt worst when she realized she was not there for her friend when she had needed it most.

"Did Robyn ever meet his father?", Breena asked quietly. She hoped Catherine would say "yes, he did.". She hoped the little boy was held in his father's arms at least once. She hoped he had felt the warmth of his father's cradling arms and she hoped he had heard his father's heart beat at least *once*. But Cat's face didn't seem like that would be the answer. Catherine looked down and let out a dry sob.

"I wish he did..."

#tdaac #tdaac comic #toh #the owl house #catherine clawthorne #catherine megpeggs #evelyn clawthorne #breena megpeggs #toh oc #the owl house oc

282 notes · View notes

velocesainz · 1 year ago

Note

Hii I saw you asked for ideas, it might sound weird but maybe a max x reader story about him falling in love with reader when hes with Kelly still and them breaking up and choosing reader? Idk fluff,smut whatever i would be interested no matter what😌

Sounds quite interesting, hope you enjoy!

We're meant to be

F1 masterlist | Main masterlist | Taglist

Summary: Max and y/n are co-workers and good friends. Max develops feelings for her while he is dating Kelly. What happens when Kelly finds out about Max's feelings?

Warnings: none, fluffy

Pairing: Max x driver!fem!reader

Third person POV:

Ever since y/n joined Red Bull racing, there had never been a single moment of sadness.

Y/n was loved by one and all. She was an icon in so many people's eyes.

Her and Max were the greatest duo the paddock had ever seen. Winning races upon races, most with a 1-2 finish with both alternating top position.

They were an odd pairing for sure. Fiery rage paired up with calm and collectedness? Unheard of.

Max POV:

I was walking around the paddock when I bumped into y/n who was holding a massive camera in her hands and interviewing people around her.

"Oh hey Max! Are you excited for today's race? Who do you think will win?" She asked me in her most 'formal' voice.

I chuckled and responded "I am quite excited for today's race, Belgium is like my second home. I would say I will win today but something tells me otherwise" I added that last line since she was looking at me as if she was going to murder me if I didn't say she would win.

"Thanks Max! Catch you later" was all she said before she skipped away happily.

God she's so beautiful. She's kind. It gives me butterflies.

Wait...

Am I...

In love?

I've never felt this with anyone, not even Kelly. I mean she's nice and all but I don't think she's the one for me.

How will I break the news to her? I'll have to figure out.

Kelly POV:

I was looking around for Max when I saw him talking to y/n, who was interviewing him by the looks of it.

After she left he kept staring at her and started blushing. Was he in love with her?

It wouldn't be very unlikely. He hasn't really been very affectionate lately and he's been spending more time with either her or Penelope.

I feel like he's falling out of love with me.

How can he recklessly fall in love like that? I'm his girlfriend!

I have to get him to stop interacting with y/n, otherwise I'll lose him. I need him for the money, I can't lose him at any cost.

Y/n POV:

I felt Max staring at me as I left or maybe i was imagining things. I am so madly in love with him I might be delusional, but he loves someone else.

I sigh and continue interviewing people as I was told by Martin Brundle who was trying to make a fun behind the scenes episode for sky sports.

Timeskip:

I got out of the car and stood proudly on top of my car, my 5th race win this season and I was officially in the lead in the drivers championship.

After podium celebrations I was making my way to my driver's room to relax for a bit before interviews when I heard some yelling coming from Max's room.

Being the curious person I was, I eavesdropped.

Max POV:

I was relaxing in my room after a decent race, P2 was a pretty good result.

Suddenly the door slammed open revealing my angry girlfriend, oh god this was going to be hell.

"Stop talking to y/n from this instant on." She said curtly.

"Who are you to tell me who I can talk to and who I can't huh?" I snapped back

"IM YOUR FUCKING GIRLFRIEND. WHO IS LOOKING OUT FOR YOU! I SEE THE WAY YOU LOOK AT HER-" she screamed.

"WELL JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE MY GIRLFRIEND DOES NOT MEAN THAT YOU GET TO CONTROL MY LIFE! AND YEA MAYBE I LIKE Y/N SO WHAT?" I yelled. This girl is getting on my nerves.

"SEE YOU ADMIT IT YOURSELF! YOU LIKE HER! EVEN WHEN YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND! HOW SHAMELESS CAN YOU BE?" She continued

"You know what? I'm done. Done with this relationship. You've never been supportive ever. It's as if you're with me for my money and that it. So kindly get the fuck out, gold digger" I was so happy to get all the feelings against her off my chest.

She looked at me in disbelief and walked out.

Y/n walked in right after Kelly left. Did she hear the argument?

"Are you alright Max? That argument sounded intense" she asked with concern showing in her eyes

"Yeah. I'm alright. Did you..uhm hear what we argued about?" I questioned

"Uhm...yea" she replied shyly

God I loved this woman so much

I walked up to her and kissed her.

The world seemed to fade away. I had the woman of my dreams in my arms I was never going to let her go.

#f1 x reader #f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen angst #max verstappen fluff #formula 1

196 notes · View notes

hey-august · 6 months ago

Note

B, G, K, R, S, Y For the alphabet!

I absolutely love your head canons for buggy!!! 💗

Sorry if this is a lot!

Ahhh, thank you!! Sorry for the delay with these! I had Too Much Fun writing them out! (NSFW Alphabet here)

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

For Buggy himself, he’s most apt to admit that he likes his hands. They’re the hands of a pirate and a performer. Calloused and agile. Plus he has a thing for nail care and finds it soothing to apply a layer of lacquer in whatever color he’s feeling at the moment. The pop of color really stands out when his hand is wrapped around a thick cock. Or digging into a dripping hole. Fuck, and seeing how many fingers he can fit? Yup, definitely a favorite of his. For his partner, it’s their smile. Aw, sweet. Of course he loves to make them laugh. To see their joy radiate up to their eyes. Even the sad, somber smile they offer the clown in his moments of vulnerability brings him a bit of peace. But there are two specific smiles that knock Buggy head over hills. That pump blood to his cock and leave him feral. First, is the soft breathy smile that slips out when his partner is on top. When his partner pauses to let Buggy’s dick nestle into place, they let out the most dreamy sigh and smile. And Buggy is in heaven. The second smile is when their face is coated in cum. Pearls clinging to their eyelashes, dripping down their cheeks, mixing with the spit on their outstretched tongue. The moment they risk getting jizz in their eyes, just to look up at Buggy and smile gratefully, all he wants to do is paint them again.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Buggy the Clown is a goofy fucker. He never stops talking. He always has shit to say. At first, it was a defense mechanism. All the humor and shenanigans kept the real feelings away. How could things get serious if he treated everything like a joke? If people saw a clown, then he’d give them a clown. “Lick it like a candy apple.” “Fuck, you could swallow swords in my show with a throat like that.” “C’mon, I wanna see you juggle these balls in your mouth.” (“I may not be a lion tamer, but I am pussy tamer.”) It dies down over time, but never goes away entirely. Buggy will never pass up an opportunity to invite his partner to the circus tent in his pants.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Mirror sex results in the best performances. Buggy rarely feels more like a star than when he’s watching his own lewd faces in the mirror while getting fucked. And Buggy is more than happy to take a backstage position when his partner is in the spotlight. Watching himself disappear into his partner, telling them to keep their eyes open, to move so he has a better view of the show - it strokes his ego hard and fast. But back to Buggy bent over in front of the mirror and drooling. There was one time his partner pushed the clown’s face against the cold silver and said to give himself a little kiss. What. The. Fuck. Licking and kissing the mirror and getting it dirty with spit and tears gave Buggy the most mind-blanking orgasm he’s ever had. In that moment, which stretched into eternity, he was a filthy fuck doll and more than okay with it.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes, but hear me out. Buggy’s interest in experimenting is driven by his image. Pirates swap stories and Buggy has all the best stories. Of course he does, he’s the greatest. And he’s done soooo many things. Really! Getting his dick sucked in a crowded restaurant - check. Stealing a chick from her boyfriend and fucking her in the bar bathroom - check. Then getting a blowjob from the boyfriend - check. Believe it or not, they all had a threesome afterwards and it lasted for days. Look, he still has the rope marks to prove it. Did that all happen? Abso-fucking-lutely. Really? Well…yeah. Sorta. Maybe some of it happened after the told the story. Buggy is a big believer in turning lies into truth. So yeah, Buggy will take risks to live in the reality he creates over stale beer. But he’s also down to experiment so he has more shit to talk about and prove he’s the best.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

If he could, Buggy would go until he passes out. How long that takes depends on how stressed he is, if he actually did any work during the day, how much he’s had to drink, and how good of a dicking it is. But this guy will hump and grind until he’s teary and whining. Until his balls are so empty that there’s almost nothing left to release except a few pathetic drops of mostly-clear liquid. Hands grabbing at the sheets and his partner, practically begging for more while his pretty eyes can’t stay open for more than a second. No, no, no, no, no, he swears he can keep going. Please, please don’t stop.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

There are ups and downs, but let’s talk about the ups. There are times when Buggy is revved and ready to go at a moment’s notice. His pupils dilate and his pants get tight when his partner is near. Any chance he gets, Buggy is whispering (loudly) in their ear about finding somewhere more secluded. If they do slink away, it’s a quickie that’s composed of a handful of sloppy thrusts and the pirate is satiated for all of a few minutes before he’s groping their ass again. It’s a problem, really. For everyone with eyes and ears.

#buggy alphabet #buggy smut #buggy the clown #buggy x you #x reader #buggy op #opla buggy #one piece buggy #buggy headcanons

40 notes · View notes

mint-yooxgi · 2 years ago

Text

{12} - Morning Mist - Yandere!Dragon!Ateex X Chubby!Reader

Yandere AU & Dragon AU

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Seonghwa)

Words: 10,355

Warnings: Threats, mentions of bones being reset, some blood and injuries. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Finally, a chapter I have been waiting for to write!! lmaoo my apologies if the beginning is a little slow, but there’s some big reveals in this chapter that I really hope you’ll all enjoy. The next few chapters might have some more important truths in relevance to the plot, so I hope you all look forward to that! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I do not do tag lists.

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Mini Masterlist

“You made her a Drygg Promise?” Seonghwa’s voice is full of disbelief as he stares at the younger dragon across from him.

“What Jongho chooses to do with her is completely up to him.” Hongjoong casually adds, turning the page of the book he’s currently reading. Though, none of them fail to miss how tense their leader seems, the sound of paper being harshly flipped through reaching their ears each time he so much as fingers the next page.

“You understand that if you ever go back on your word, a tattoo like mark will appear on your body branding you for all to see?” Yeosang meets the youngest’s gaze, arms crossed over his chest as a hint of worry bleeds into his tone.

Those that break a Drygg Promise are branded in dishonour, marking them as someone unfaithful and untrustworthy to others. It is one of the greatest shames that can befall a dragon, for the mark can never be removed, nor the magic ever be undone. Once a Drygg Promise is broken, it can never be made again.

“I know.” Jongho hums. “Which is why I never intend to break it.”

“Keeping a Drygg Promise is easier said than done.” Yunho states, sharing a brief look with the younger male across the room.

“Did she make one back?” There’s a hint of irritation to Wooyoung’s tone, his entire body stiff as he leans against the wall.

“No,” as soon as the word leaves Jongho’s lip, the male seemingly relaxes. “This one was purely just intended for me.”

“But she agreed to it?” Hongjoong glances at the youngest out of the corner of his eyes, watching the male carefully.

“She didn’t push me away.” Comes the younger’s response.

San pouts, shoulders slumping as he sits in his seat. He wanted to be the first one to make a Drygg Promise with you. It didn’t matter what it was, he just wanted to prove to you how loyal he could be. How faithful. Especially to you.

“You know as well as I do that once the connection is made, there’s no preventing that magic from taking hold.” Yunho sighs, meeting gazes with Hongjoong. “Whether she wanted him to be or not, he’s bound to it. At least from what he’s told us, it’s just him.”

“Why would you do something so stupid?” Mingi shakes his head in disproval, turning to look at Jongho in the next second. “Least of all for her?”

“If I recall correctly, you did some pretty stupid things when you were trying to impress that one she-wolf quite a few years back,” Yeosang hums, flicking his bangs out of his eyes.

Red begins to creep up Mingi’s neck, the male sputtering briefly. “Well, at least I didn’t imprint, or do something as stupid as make her a Drygg Promise!”

“You act like it’s the end of the world.” San grumbles, visibly becoming more upset the longer that this conversation drags on.

“I did what I felt was best at the time,” Jongho shrugs. “My love for her is none of your concern.”

“It is when you threaten our clan’s quest for the crown!” Seonghwa snaps, chest heaving with every breath he takes.

“Well, maybe I don’t want to find this stupid crown!” Jongho retorts, brow tugging downwards in a frown. “It’s made you completely power hungry and desperate to rule! Do you really think that you’d make a good leader when you can’t even swallow your pride for ten fucking seconds and admit your own faults?”

“Watch it, Jongho-“

It’s Mingi that gets cut off by the youngest next.

“And you!” He seethes, rounding on the flaming headed male. “Burning every fucking thing to the ground any chance you get? Tell me, again, how your anger isn’t controlling you.”

“Jongho.” Yunho stands, moving towards the younger dragon in attempts to deescalate the situation before it goes any further.

“None of us are fit to be rulers,” he continues. “Not when half of us can hardly make decisions on how we handle things or how we feel about them.”

Yeosang’s eyes narrow pointedly.

“Not when half of us can barely control our emotions.” Jongho’s eye flash at both Seonghwa and Mingi. “We don’t deserve it.”

“Jongho.” Hongjoong’s eyes flash, his book slamming closed. “That’s enough.”

“Don’t act like you haven’t been thinking about it, too.” The youngest huffs, a puff of smoke escaping his nostrils at how heated he’s become.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Hongjoong’s voice is low, ominous as he slowly stands to his feet.

The scraping of the chair against the wooden floor fills the silence in the room, each male now much more tense than before. A weight has settled over all of them, looming over their heads like a thundercloud.

“I am tired of these fucking raids,” Jongho’s entire expression drops, shoulders slouching as he curls in on himself. “I am tried of having everyone fear us everywhere we go. Our clan name shouldn’t be a cause for terror, or despair. It should be one to be celebrated and supported. There is no honour in senseless violence or killing. I am tired of all this bloodshed. Aren’t you?”

A heavy silence fills the air, drowning them in the harshness of Jongho’s confession.

Seonghwa sees red.

“You’re starting to sound like that fucking huntress-“

Snarls echo around the room, yet none are as loud, or as surprising as Yeosang’s.

“Don’t call her that.” The male’s lips are pulled back over his teeth, fangs on full display.

“What’s the matter with you?” Seonghwa voices, incredulously. “Has she bewitched you, too?”

“Don’t you dare go there, Hwa.” Wooyoung takes a menacing step forward.

“Yeosang couldn’t trust her, and then he spends one fucking day with her and suddenly he’s smitten!” Seonghwa counters. “You can’t blame me for knowing that she’s put a spell on all of you at this point. The fact that she made you make her a Drygg Promise just confirms it. She’s obviously toying with your-“

“I made her that fucking Drygg Promise of my own free will, Seonghwa,” Jongho’s tone is but a growl on his lips as he cuts the elder off. “Perhaps it’s you who needs to reevaluate how you see her.”

“It’s not like we’re going to be able to change it now,” Mingi sighs, shaking his head lightly.

“Even you are acting fucking different towards her since the other day.” Seonghwa’s eyes narrow at the younger male with the flaming hair. “What’s gotten into you?”

“We aren’t as stubborn as you are, Hwa.” Yunho says, eyes flashing at the eldest. “We’ve actually taken the time to get to know her, and realize that she’s not a bad person. We can learn a lot from her. Just look at how far San and Wooyoung have come with their medicinal training in a month!”

“I’m surprised she hasn’t poisoned you, yet.” Seonghwa grumbles, diverting his gaze to the floor for a brief moment.

San, Jongho, and Wooyoung all go to lunge at the eldest. Even Yeosang and Yunho twitch slightly in their spots, but again, it’s Hongjoong that acts first.

Slamming the eldest against the wall, Hongjoong pins him with an arm across the elder male’s chest. The younger’s eyes are a deep gold, flashing dangerously beneath the moonlight as Seonghwa’s own widen in response.

“I will not have you speaking ill of the woman that has not only saved your life, but the lives of your brothers more times than I can count. She has been kind enough to extend her knowledge to us after the multiple stunts you’ve pulled against her and her clan.” Hongjoong seethes, lips pulled back in a snarl as his fangs begin to elongate. “You bring more shame to yourself every fucking day, Seonghwa, that you do not admit your own shortcomings, and apologize for your mistakes. Jongho’s right, you would make a terrible ruler. We all would.”

Seonghwa can feel his heart pounding inside his chest, the familiar bitter taste of tears beginning to form behind his eyes. He blinks them back, but from the way Hongjoong presses him harder into the wall, the elder can tell that the younger is nowhere near finished with him yet.

“Until you can fucking get your head out of your ass, you are banished from this household until further notice.” Hongjoong commands, and he can feel the way Seonghwa’s breath hitches in his throat based on the way his chest freezes beneath his arm. “Do not come back until you have both learned the error of your ways, and have apologized to the woman we owe our lives to.”

In the next moment, Hongjoong shoves himself off of the elder male, backing away from him slowly. None of the others dare to say anything as Seonghwa spares one final glance around at all of them, worried about incurring the wrath of their leader after such a tense exchange.

“Fine,” Seonghwa huffs, straightening out his shirt. “If this is how all of you are going to act, I don’t want to be here, anyways.”

Without another word, or waiting for an answer, Seonghwa storms out of the house. The crisp night air greets him, and he’s immediately shifting, taking off into the night sky without a single glance back.

The six remaining males turn to look at a heaving Hongjoong.

Yunho, San, and Jongho all blink in shock.

“You really chose that witch over your own brother?” Mingi looks appalled, lips parted in disbelief at his leader.

“Watch it, Min.” Hongjoong’s eyes flash as he turns towards the taller male. “Do you want to get banned, too?”

“Not particularly,” he shakes his head sightly, hands raised in his own defence.

“Good.” Hongjoong nods once. “Because despite what it looks like, I’d really rather not have this clan fall apart.”

“We have noticed a slight change in you, Min.” Yunho observes. “Ever since you talked with her that one day.”

“You’re less…” San searches for the proper word, “hotheaded at times.”

Yeosang says nothing, observing the scene before him with his arms crossed over his chest. Casually, he leans back against the wall, making brief eye contact with the taller male. He quirks a brow.

“She just gave me something to think about, is all.” Mingi clears his throat, a faint blush beginning to creep up his neck.

“You? Thinking?” Wooyoung voices, eyes wide in amazement. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

Threateningly, Mingi takes a small step in the shorter male’s direction.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” Wooyoung laughs, putting his hands in front of himself for protection. “It’s just nice to have a conversation without it all bursting into flames.”

This time, Mingi doesn’t stop himself from lunging at the younger male. In a flash, he has Wooyoung in a headlock, the younger thrashing in his arms in attempts to escape.

A long sigh is escaping Hongjoong’s lips in the next second, noticing how Jongho has seemingly slipped out of the front door in all of the commotion.

“Where’d our youngest go?” San frowns, looking around the room.

“Probably to clear his head,” Yunho responds, pulling Wooyoung out of Mingi’s grasp.

The younger male immediately starts praising Yunho, all the while sticking his tongue out at Mingi who is being held back by the taller male.

“I’ve never seen Jongho act like this,” Yeosang’s gaze is locked on the wooden floor, a frown tugging at his features.

“He’s never really been huge on the whole quest for the crown.” Hongjoong shrugs, leaning back against the side of the table. “You all know this.”

“He’s always been silent about this kind of stuff, though.” San’s brow furrows, arms crossing over his chest.

“You know as well as I do that he can get very impatient at times.” Hongjoong replies, staring out of the window as if he can see that familiar golden dragon flying in the distance. “This whole imprinting thing is probably weighing on him in its own ways. He did think she was human.”

“We all did.” Yunho hums knowingly.

“I don’t think he cares about waiting for her in terms of the imprint,” Yeosang adds. “I just think he’s feeling inadequate for her in general.”

“I think you’re right,” Hongjoong sighs once more, turning his attention back to the males standing around the room before him. “It’s frustrating when you want to learn all there is about a person, but they keep you at arms length.”

“Speaking from experience, Leader?” Mingi quirks a brow.

“I’m just saying I can understand how Jongho feels.” Hongjoong responds, tilting his head in Mingi’s direction.

“I think we all can.” San mumbles, rubbing a hand over the side of his face.

A look is shared between Yunho, Hongjoong, San, and Wooyoung. Even Yeosang spares a quick glance upwards in response.

“Trust isn’t something that’s given,” Mingi comments, already heading down the hallway and to his room for the evening. “It’s earned.”

The sound of his door swinging shut echoes through the silence that has befallen the room. Five males can only stand there in shock, sparing glances at one another at the words that have just been uttered by their hotheaded brother.

Did he just agree with something you have always believed?

Blinking, Hongjoong clears his thoughts enough to face the remaining four males before him. “Remember, don’t let Seonghwa back in unless he has fulfilled his requirements. No matter what.”

Firm nods of agreement greet Hongjoong in response, the other males dispersing to their rooms for the evening shortly after that. Hongjoong, on the other hand, steps outside, the fresh air helping to cool his heated skin and clear his head even further.

Wordlessly, he shifts into his true form, stretching his wings out before leaping into the night sky. It wouldn’t hurt to take a quick flight around the area, and maybe even check in on you this evening.

After all, he’s just doing what he should be as his clan’s leader, and making sure Seonghwa hasn’t done anything to harm you in retaliation to his decision. No other reason…

You, on the other hand, had finally been able to finish that book you had been meaning to all those long weeks ago. Your eyes are strained, and exhaustion seeps into every pore of your body as you blow out the oil lamp resting beside you.

Just as you begin to crawl into bed, you sense a familiar presence flying closer and closer to your cabin. You’ve long since sensed the other circling over the area for at least ten minutes or so, so when you feel the other, you believed it’s simply Hongjoong coming to collect their youngest for the evening.

Unbeknownst to you, as you succumb to the darkness of your own consciousness, both dragons opt to steer clear of one another. Not once do they cross paths, purposely avoiding the other as they pass protectively over your territory.

Little do any of you realize that they stay for the entire night.

The very next day, Yunho visits you with Yeosang by his side.

To say that you’re surprised would be an understatement, considering you would have expected either Jongho or Hongjoong to have brought you the news of Seonghwa’s temporary banishment. Either way, you’re grateful for the information, inviting them in for lunch all the same. A fact of which they both gladly accept, Yeosang attempting to not look too eager as this will be the first time he’ll get to properly eat your cooking firsthand.

They stay for a few hours, offering you help around your house to do some small chores in thanks for the meal. You accept, and in no time at all, have completed your small list of things to do for the day.

Some time in the afternoon, you hear both Chenle and Renjun enter your house. You could sense their presences getting closer, and you noticed that Yunho’s head lifts ever so slightly when they get about thirty feet from your door.

A subtle smile had pulled at your features at that, happy to know that your training with San and Wooyoung has been beneficial not just for them, but their brothers, too. You may not have agreed to train any of the other Halas, yet, but that doesn’t mean they cannot train each other.

Needless to say, once both Renjun and Chenle entered your house to see those two specific Hala dragons sitting in your living room with you, all sharing glasses of iced mint tea, they were shocked. Chenle immediately ran over and jumped into your lap, smothering you in his affection and noticing how the smaller Hala of the two attempted to hide his irritation. At least he did better at hiding his annoyance than Yunho.

Some time later, all four of them opted to leave you for the evening. The Halas told you that they didn’t want to overstay their welcome, to which you replied that they were welcome anytime.

Both Yunho and Yeosang had blushed at that, small smiles tugging at their features as they bid you a final farewell and took off into the sky. Of course, Renjun and Chenle shared a look between one another as this occurred, a knowing gleam shining within the elder’s eyes.

The two Neos left shortly after that, Chenle reluctant to head home as always. He promised to come see you again soon, to which you simply chuckled at, and sent them both on their merry way.

Days pass, and both San and Wooyoung happily continue their training with you. More often that not, they are accompanied by one or more of their brothers, if they don’t come to visit you themselves on their own time. It’s nice having the company, and they get along great with your Neos, so you’re no longer worried about any conflicts arising. Hell, even Mingi has been starting to join his brothers at times, a fact which surprises both you, and them, more often than not.

For over a week, none of them have seen sight, nor heard any sound of Seonghwa. You track him the odd time, just to ease the worry in Hongjoong’s mind, apparent in the way the male’s hands twitch in his own hold, and his brow creases occasionally.

How you manage to be able to find the eldest so quickly, over such a vast territory still amazes him. Hongjoong has half the mind to ask you to teach him how you do it, but he doesn’t want to overstep. Though, you seem to catch on pretty quickly.

“I’ll send a message when I’m ready to teach you,” you smile, and it’s as if that single expression lights up the entire room. Then, you’re turning towards Yeosang and Yunho. “Do you two still wish to accompany me to Rose Village soon?”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Jongho stiffen.

“If you’ll have us,” Yeosang replies, a slight nod to his head.

“Again, I’ll send word when I’m ready.” You meet his gaze, shifting to look at Yunho in the next second. “I don’t know how you convinced Taeyong, but if he’s okay with skipping his favourite supply run of the month, then I have no issues with you two joining me.”

“If it’s his supply run, why do you have to go?” Jongho grumbles, arms crossed over his chest.

“I usually only join him on this run twice a year.” You say, turning to face the pouting male leaning against the side wall. “There’s a specific harvest festival that happens during both the spring and autumn seasons. I usually just gather the rarer herbs that the merchants bring in. Taeyong enjoys going for the flowers.”

“Don’t tell him you said that,” Renjun pops his head out your backdoor, wiping his hands on a cloth. “It’ll ruin his reputation.”

“Oh, my bad,” you playfully roll your eyes. “Big scary Neo leader likes flowers, big shocker there.”

“Wait, so it’s not Jungwoo that made the giant garden in their front yard?” San’s brows furrow, head tilting curiously in your direction.

“Oh, Jungwoo makes sure to maintain it,” you grin. “Along with dear Junnie here.”

At the way you move over to affectionately wrap your arm around the male’s shoulders, shaking him slightly, Renjun sends you a glare.

“My Neos are softer than you think,” you chuckle.

“We could still level a mountain if we wanted to,” Renjun grumbles.

“I know,” you hum, smiling fondly. “I would be upset if you couldn’t. Considering I taught you how to.”

“You can level a mountain?” Nothing but awe paints San’s features, the other Halas looking no different despite those that attempt to hide it.

“I can do many things, Sannie Boy,” you smile, though it becomes a little more unnerving the longer they all stare at you. “You just haven’t asked.”

The Halas all share a brief look between one another. None can deny the way hope begins to flood their veins, hearts beating erratically within their chests. Are you implying what they think you are? Are you, perhaps, beginning to trust them?

“Taeyong knows how to balance himself well,” you comment, shooting a brief glance at Mingi out of the corner of your eyes before turning to stare directly at Yeosang. “Wind can be harsh, and destructive, but it can also be calm, and refreshing. To every disaster, there is always hope.”

Yeosang nods, an understanding crossing his features as the others turn to look his way.

“Every power is like that,” you add, dropping your arm from around Renjun’s shoulder, much to the male’s content. “There’s good and bad in everything. What matters is how you wield it.”

“Oh, don’t start that lecture again,” Renjun rolls his eyes playfully at you, poking your arm lightly. “You have things to do.”

You shoot him a look before huffing out a laugh, “I suppose you’re right.”

“We better get going, anyways,” Hongjoong says, motioning for the rest of his clan to move with a jerk of his chin.

“We can stay and help,” Wooyoung offers, an eager gleam shining within his eyes.

You smile, “not this time.”

The way both he, San, and Jongho all visibly deflate at your response has you shaking your head, almost affectionately, at them.

“I’ll see you all again, soon enough,” you promise, waving them off. “Be safe. All of you.”

This is the first time Mingi has heard you wish them well while leaving, and he cannot deny the way his heart falters for the briefest of moments. A warmth unlike anything he’s ever felt before floods his veins, beginning from within his chest and spreading outwards. A feeling which he wants to feel more of, and soon.

Taking off into the sky, each Hala can still feel your gaze locked on them, tails flicking happily in the breeze. For the first time in a long time, they circle around one another, teasingly brushing each other with their wings, or rolling over their backs mid-flight. It makes them feel like their old selves again, a joy washing over them that they haven’t felt in a long time.

Finally, they can relax a little. Be more carefree. The weight of searching for the crown is no longer pressing against each of their shoulders, and it’s all thanks to you.

***

The tenth night after Seonghwa’s banishment from their nest, you hear a knock at your door. It’s faint enough that you almost miss it, as if whoever it is simply brushed their knuckles against the wood. However, from the presence you sense just on the other side, you know it simply isn’t just the wind.

With your guard high, and lights illuminating the kitchen, you open the backdoor.

The sight that greets you is one you honestly never would have expected, blinking mildly in shock.

There, looking even worse than the night you caught him with your dagger, stands the eldest Hala dragon. Scars litter what little exposed skin you can see of him, dirt and blood smeared against every free inch of his clothes. He holds his wrist in his one hand - the same one you broke all those weeks ago - rubbing it tenderly with his fingers. A gentle click can be heard each time he does so, the bones shifting uncomfortably beneath his skin.

His eyes are bloodshot as he meets your own, tears lining the corners and threatening to fall at any second. He keeps his lower lip caught between his teeth, grimacing as he meets your gaze.

Your nose crinkles from the stench radiating off of him, and you hear him sniffle.

You quirk a brow.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” his voice comes out small, strained from what little use he’s made of it over the past ten days.

The eldest avoids your gaze, suddenly finding the wooden flooring beneath your feet the most interesting thing he’s ever seen in his life.

“So, you decided to show up on your enemy’s back porch?” You hum, leaning against the frame of your open door.

“You are not my enemy.”

To say his words shock you would be an understatement, unable to hide the surprise from pulling at your features.

“Why did you simply not just go home?” Your tone is softer than a moment ago, and he finally lifts his gaze to meet your own.

The first of his tears begin to slip down his face. “I can’t go home.”

“Oh?” You tilt your head slightly in inquiry. “And why is that?”

He purses his lips as best he can, but he cannot prevent the way that his chin trembles.

The next moment, he straightens himself, as if in attempts to control his emotions. “Forget it.”

The way you can just tell that he’s attempting to hold on to the last shreds of his pride as he goes to turn away from you has a low sigh escaping your lips.

“Asking for help does not make you weak, Hala.” You state, noticing how he freezes in his spot at your words.

“Seonghwa.” His voice is gruff as he spares a glance at you from over his shoulder. “My name is Seonghwa.”

“And I shall refer to you as Hala until I deem it time for you to hear your name being graced by my lips.” You reply, arms crossed over your chest. “Do not forget you went after my back not once, but twice after I spared your life both times. Not only that, but you continue to insult me, and threaten me after everything I have done for both you and your clan. I have every right to watch you die right here on my back porch this very second, and revel in every moment of it.”

You do not fail to miss the way he flinches at your words, guard raising as his lips pull back in a snarl.

“This was a waste of time,” he manages to get out through gritted teeth, turning away from you once more.

“You need to work on your perception, Boy,” you state. “I never said I wouldn’t help you.”

Yet again, your words have him freezing in his tracks.

“I owe that much to those brothers of yours.” You hum. “Perhaps one more so than the others.”

“Jongho,” he whispers, turning back around to face you, approaching you cautiously all the while.

“Yes, you have your youngest to thank for this,” you nod softly, relaxing your tense shoulders the slightest bit. “He continues to surprise me every day.”

“Then you’ve-“

“No.” Your reply is somewhat firm, a gentle shake to your head. “I have not. But, like I said, he continues to surprise me.”

Seonghwa says nothing as he steps right up before the threshold of your door, that invisible barrier still keeping him out for now.

“Do you have any life threatening injuries that I cannot immediately see.” You ask him, eyes quickly trailing over the front of his torso.

You do not fail to miss the way that he seemingly shivers beneath your gaze.

“I don’t think so.” He mumbles, shifting slightly from foot to foot. Again, he rubs his wrist, the bones clicking together unnaturally.

“Alright, then you need to bathe before I treat you.” You reply bluntly.

“Excuse me?” He blinks, clearly taken aback by your command.

“Well, other than the fact that you reek for the moment, the cleaner you are, the easier it will be to treat your wounds.” You explain, a knowing look to your eyes. “Wounds that I’m surprised haven’t started healing by themselves, yet.”

“Where the fuck do you suggest I do that?” He counters, irritated frown pulling at his features.

“If you learned some patience, Young One, you would have already been told the answer by now.” Your gaze sharpens, shoulders tenser than a moment ago.

His lips purse once more, jaw twitching slightly in response.

“I will allow you to bathe inside, but the second I sense any hostility from you, I will not hesitate to reestablish my barrier.” A firm look is sent his way. “Believe me when I say: you do not want to know what it feels like to have your lungs crushed from the inside out.”

Visibly, the eldest Hala swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing from the movement.

“Do you understand?” Your eyes flash, an undertone of a threat to your words.

A brief pause.

“I understand.”

“Good,” you nod once before backing away from him slowly. “You may follow me.”

Hesitantly, Seonghwa takes a step towards your house. Slowly, he raises his one hand, testing the entranceway for that barrier to see if he’ll run face first into that invisible wall. When he feels none, a mild look of surprise crosses his features, but it’s gone just as quickly as it appears. Wordlessly, he enters your house.

The whole time you lead him to your bathroom, you keep your front facing him. Your eyes are sharp, guiding him through the house without even so much as a glance behind you to check where you’re going. Even when you reach the bathroom, you keep your gaze fixed on him while you begin to set everything up.

To say Seonghwa is a little unnerved would be an understatement. He would have thought you’d need to check your surroundings at least once on the trek to your bathroom. However, the way you watch him like a hawk doesn’t necessarily surprise him. He knows he deserves it. Hell, if he were you, he’d be doing the exact same thing.

“The towel is on the rack.” You comment, moving around him once he fully steps into the room. “Unfortunately, I cannot wash your clothes in such a short amount of time, but I’ll lay out some fresh ones on the bed for when you’re done. Don’t worry, they’re not mine.”

“They belong to your cubs, or something?” His voice is low, eyes darting almost longingly to the tub with faint steam rising from it.

“Or something,” you breathe. “I’ll be in the kitchen once you’re done. You decide whether or not you want to keep your shirt on while I treat your wounds.”

Without another word, you’re closing the door quite harshly in his face.

Letting out a low sigh, Seonghwa runs a his fingers through his hair. His whole body aches, and it’s a pain to even so much as strip himself of his tarnished clothes, but he does.

What’s even more surprising to him is how you actually agreed to help him. Sure, your guard is still high, and it’s clear you don’t trust him, but you still allowed him into your home. You still drew him a bath, and are going to treat his wounds.

Perhaps he should follow his instincts more often. Maybe, just maybe, Jongho and his other brothers are right. For once in his life, Seonghwa should swallow his pride. He may just likes what becomes of it.

Sliding into the water, the male nearly lets out a low groan at the way the warmth immediately begins to loosen his tense muscles. The faint scent of lavender and lilac fills the room, and he finds himself relaxing more into the tub the longer he lingers.

A little while later, and after Seonghwa has finished cleaning himself up, he steps out of the tub. Some of his smaller cuts have seemingly healed in the time he took to bathe, his muscles feeling looser and more relaxed.

Sure enough, once he steps out of the bathroom, nothing but a towel around his waist, he sees a small pile of clothes left on the end of your bed for him. They’re clean, but he cannot help but notice the undeniable scent of a male faintly clinging to the material.

For some reason, it bothers him.

Yet, you sure are extending a tremendous amount of trust in him right now. Maybe, you’re simply testing him. Seeing what he will do if left alone in your room without you watching over him at every turn. He could tear your entire house apart right now if he wanted to, but he doubts you would let him so much as scratch your walls. Either way, he’s still cautious. He doesn’t trust you fully yet, either.

Stepping back into the kitchen, he sees you already leaning against the side counter with your arms crossed. Jars and bowls of ointment and herbs rest on the counter before you, oil lamps spread throughout the room and illuminating the space brightly.

“Better?” You meet his gaze, not even fazed that he left the shirt you gave him undone for the moment.

A curt nod is all that greets you in response, his hand once more coming up to rub at that one wrist of his. Again, a small clicking can be heard emanating from the bones each time he rolls it.

You click your tongue. “You really don’t know how to survive in the wilderness on your own, do you?”

“Of course I do!” Immediately, he goes to defend himself, scowl taking over his features. “I just-“

You raise a hand in the air, halting his protests dead in their tracks. “You fell into a bush of wild rat thorns while chasing something, didn’t you?”

At the way he remains silent, you have your answer.

You sigh. “Are you aware of what wild rat thorns are?”

“They’re thorns, aren’t they?” He replies smartly, his features twisted into a frown.

You snort out a laugh. “You’re technically not wrong.”

“If my wrist didn’t give out on me, I wouldn’t be in this mess right now,” he snaps, eyes flashing dangerously as he meets your gaze. “It’s your fault I’m hurt.”

“Not my problem you let it heal incorrectly.” You hum, pushing yourself off of your counter in order to step towards your supplies all laid out before you. “Also, not my fault, when I was simply defending myself against your disgraceful attack.”

“I should have just killed you when I had the chance,” his scowl deepens, fangs glinting in the light of the lamps.

You sigh, shaking your head. “Do you not ever tire of the front you put up, Hala? Does it not weigh on you every day?”

The way his breath hitches is slight, but you do not fail to miss the way he freezes momentarily in his spot.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” His voice is low, deadly.

“Don’t I?” You quirk a brow, leaning forward to rest your one palm flat on the counter before you. “You’re the type to carry the weight of the entire world on your shoulders. Every little thing that goes wrong, you blame yourself for, lashing out at anything or anyone when they try and get close. You wish to become stronger so those same mistakes never happen again, and when they do, it consumes you. You always feel as if you have something to prove, too. ‘Best them before they can best you’, am I right?”

“What do you know about it?” He hisses, his eyes glazing over as a fresh set of tears begin to prick his vision.

“You and I are more alike than you realize,” you meet his gaze. “I was exactly as you are, once. I see my former self every time I look at you, back when I almost completely lost myself.”

Seonghwa’s expression is stern, whole body tense as he stands across from you. His hands are balled into fists at his side, and they begin to shake in a barely controlled rage. His eyes flash gold.

“You know nothing.” He spits, tone but a harsh growl on his lips.

“I know more than you do, Boy,” your own eyes flash in warning, mixing some herbs together in a bowl. “I know how toxic your behaviour can be, especially to those around you. There is only so much that another can put up with, if you do not choose to change, even if they care about you deeply.”

“You don’t know me.” His voice is low, body angled towards you as if he’s ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

“No, I do not,” you agree. “And you do not know me. But, as I have said, I have been where you are, and believe me when I say that you do not want to slip any further down that cliff. There is almost no coming back from it.”

Seonghwa smartly remains quiet, but there’s no hiding the disgust that pulls at his features.

“Now, would you still like me to treat your woulds, or are you going to throw another tantrum and storm out?” You quirk a brow, raising the one mortar in your hand and shaking it slightly.

Seonghwa takes a moment to think over his answer before wordlessly sitting himself down on the stool at the edge of your counter. His decision seems to please you, for the corner of your lips are quirking upwards as you nod once in his direction.

“When was the last time you properly ate something?” You ask, grabbing a separate bowl off of the side counter as you approach him.

The way his stomach growls is answer enough.

“That’s what I thought.” You chuckle, sliding the bowl full of berries over to him. “Eat that, and then drink this.”

Pouring the mixture of herbs into a steaming cup of water, you begin to swirl the contents with a wooden spoon.

Warily, Seonghwa eyes the fruit before him. He can feel his stomach twisting in hunger, but he’s cautious. Who knows what you could have added to these berries while he wasn’t in the room.

“I didn’t poison them, if that’s what you’re worried about.” You roll your eyes, taking a step forward to pluck a berry from the bowl and pop it into your mouth. You make a big show of swallowing the fruit before meeting his gaze. “See.”

Still, he doesn’t move.

“Look, you need to have something in your stomach for the tea to properly work.” You sigh, rubbing at the bridge of your nose with you one hand. “I can see that the herbs in the bath helped your minor wounds, but if you’ve been practically starved these past ten days, drinking this on an empty stomach won’t be beneficial to your health.”

A moment of silence passes between the both of you as you continue to stare at one another. That is, until the sound of his stomach growling quite loudly cuts through the tension.

You chuckle, a knowing look sparkling in your eyes as he grumbles to himself. He pulls the bowl of berries in closer. Slowly, reluctantly, he begins to eat the berries, eyeing you cautiously all the while.

Exhaling an amused huff, you place the tea beside him. “Good Boy.”

It’s faint, but Seonghwa hates the way his back straightens the slightest bit at your words.

“How do you know all of this?” He asks after a few minutes of stillness.

“I believe I have mentioned before that my father has trained me vigorously since I was small.” You reply. “Then again, I’m surprised your brothers haven’t shared all that they can about me in their little story times.”

“I wouldn’t know,” he mumbles, finally take a small sip of the tea you’ve brewed him.

The flavour isn’t anything special, but the more he drinks, the more strength he feels returning to his body. A warmth begins to spread outwards, radiating from the centre of his chest, heart beating firmer within. His wrist doesn’t hurt as badly, either.

“Ah,” you nod lightly in understanding. “I see.”

“The never shut up about you,” he says after a minute, staring into that now empty bowl.

“Do you still believe I have deceived them all with some spell?” Your voice is even, a hint of amusement bleeding through.

He takes a moment to think about it, hiding the lower half of his face behind the cup as he hums, “undecided.”

You laugh. For the first time in front of the eldest, you laugh.

To say the sound catches Seonghwa off guard would be an understatement, but it’s welcome, nonetheless.

“I may be strong, Hala, but deception is not something I have ever been good at.” You respond, grabbing a jar from your supplies on the counter and opening the lid. “At least, not bewitchments.”

At the familiar faint smell of lavender that fills the room when you open that jar, Seonghwa immediately know what type of ointment resides inside.

“Yes, you should be familiar with this paste,” you smile lightheartedly, watching as the tips of his ears dust a light red. “Yeosang informed me that you had run out of the last jar you stole.”

“Of course he did,” the eldest sighs, his one nail scratching lightly over a pattern on top of your wooden counter.

“Then, you know how to apply it,” you push the jar towards him.

“I thought you were supposed to be treating me?” He shoots you a brief look out of the corner of his eyes.

“I’m sure you don’t want me getting up close and personal with you any time soon,” you tilt your head knowingly. “You are more than capable of applying the treatment to the affected areas. Though, it won’t heal your wrist.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my wrist.” He counters, holding it to his chest protectively as his eyes narrow.

“Right.” You shake your head in disbelief. “And it doesn’t click every time you twist it.”

For the nth time this night, he purses his lips, but says nothing.

“It didn’t set, nor heal properly.” You continue.

“No thanks to you.” He spits, frown suddenly tugging onto his features.

“Would you like me to fix it for you?” You inquire, leaning once more against the side counter. “I can’t promise that it’ll be painless, but at least you won’t have any permanent damage this way.”

Seonghwa gently places his hand back onto the top of your counter, staring intently at his wrist.

“Why would you offer to help me? I’ve done nothing but disgrace you since we’ve met.” Seonghwa’s voice is low, words but a whisper on his lips.

“I am not unreasonable, Hala,” you reply, tone soft as if you’re coaxing a child out from hiding in the closet. “Like I said, you and I are more alike than you realize. Sometimes all it takes is one moment of kindness to show you a new perspective on life. Besides, I owe your brother.”

“I don’t understand you,” he shakes his head, lifting his gaze to meet yours in the next second. “You hold yourself like an ancient, yet you aren’t one. Why?”

“Does that bother you?” The corner of your lips tug upwards as you move to pull up another stool across from him.

“Not going to lie,” he rests both his palms flat on the table. “It pisses me off.”

“Because you hate the ancients?” You ask casually, dragging over a small bowl filled with a herbal liquid to rest before you. A cloth rests over the side, to which you begin to drag through the mixture, squeezing out the excess shortly afterwards.

“How do you know if I hate the ancients or not?” His tone is guarded, but he doesn’t look away.

“I told you, we are more alike than you think,” you sigh, wringing out the final drops of that mixture from the cloth. “Give me your wrist.”

Extending your left hand out, you hold it with the palm facing upwards to him.

Briefly, his eyes dart from your face to your hand, a hint of hesitancy to his movements. Still, he reaches out his injured wrist, placing his hand in yours gently.

Your touch is soft as you tenderly wrap the cloth around his wrist. In fact, it’s much more tender than anything the eldest could have ever expected.

A shiver caresses his spine.

“This will hurt,” you repeat your words from earlier as you meet his gaze. “Do you need to bite down on something, or will you be okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” his reply is gruff, already preparing himself for what is about to come.

“Brace yourself,” you warn. “I promise to make this quick.”

“Will you hurry up already- fuck!”

A loud crack echoes around the room as tears spring to the eldest eyes. The fingers of his other hand dig harshly into the wood of your counter, and he’s surprised he doesn’t smash the wood with how hard he’s gripping onto it. His bottom lip is pulled between his teeth, puncturing the skin lightly. Enough so, that he can taste the faintest bit of blood on his tongue.

Softly, you coo at him, brushing your thumbs overtop of the cloth as you set his bones properly.

Seonghwa takes this time to observe you carefully. Your face holds no malice in your expression, a softness to your features as you caress his wrist. There is an air about you that demands attention and respect, but he thinks it’s not even conscious on your part. An air of which he’s drawn to, inexplicably.

His gaze shifts back to your hands, still cradling his one wrist so tenderly. His eyes lock on faint scars lining your skin, raised in uneven bumps along the surface. Though, with the way they follow a circlet type pattern around your wrists, a sort of understanding washes over him. Scars of which he or his brothers have never noticed before, until he got this close.

As soon as you’re done, it’s like a wave of calm settles over him. His chest still heaves, but he finds the pain in his wrist ebbing away with each breath he takes. The bones in his wrist are healing unnaturally fast, and he realizes with one glance into your golden eyes, that this is your doing.

“You’re a healing dragon.” He states, a sense of awed bitterness radiating off of him.

“Not quite,” you sigh, finally releasing the hold you have on his wrist and taking the cloth with you.

“The hell do you mean, ‘not quite’,” his lips curl, that familiar anger flashing within his eyes.

“My existence is a myth in itself, Boy,” your eyes narrow as you push yourself up from your spot, moving to dump the excess liquid into the sink.

“What do you mean?” His brow furrows as he leans back slightly in his seat, observing you carefully. “Is that why there are scars of iron burnt around your wrist?”

A warning growl echoes around the room. “Be careful, Boy. You are asking questions way beyond your league.”

Seonghwa takes a moment as he looks down at his own hands which he has pulled into his lap. His wrist no longer hurts. Instead, a dull warmth has settled in his bones beneath his skin. He flexes his hand. “I’m sorry.”

You drop the bowl into the sink.

A brief silence settles over the both of you, only breaking once Seonghwa clears his throat.

“Thank you for healing my wrist.” He stands, and you can only blink at him in shock as he bows to you. “I apologize for all that I have done to hurt you. I can never take back my words or actions, but I realize now that I have misjudged you. Thank you for taking care of me when I don’t deserve it.”

A few more seconds pass by with him bowed lowly to you before he’s straightening himself. A moment later, and he’s heading towards your backdoor.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The corner of your lips quirk as you lean against the side of the counter.

“I fear I’ve overstayed and overstepped.” He replies.

“You’re suddenly a lot calmer than you just were a few minutes ago.” You comment. “What changed?”

Briefly, his gaze darts down to your wrists, and you sigh.

“So, seeing the scars my old iron shackles gave me was the deciding factor?” You voice, and you watch as he’s shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot.

Again, he remains silent.

“You certainly are a strange one, Hala,” you shake your head before motioning back to the stool he had previously been occupying with your chin. “Sit. We have much to discuss.”

Slowly, he creeps back over to his seat, sitting himself stiffly on the stool. He can only watch as you slide that still open jar of ointment closer to him from over the counter.

“Looks like you now pity me in the same ways I pity you,” you hum.

“I don’t need your pity,” he retorts, snatching that jar off of the top of the counter as he begins to rub the ointment over his upper body.

“And I do not need yours.” You agree. “That does not prevent it from still being there.”

“You never answered my earlier question.” He diverts the topic. “About why you hate the ancients.”

You move back over to your own stool, tugging it a little further out from the counter before sitting back down.

“Most of the ancients hold power to the highest regard. It has been engrained into me since I was small, and took years for me to unlearn that power isn’t everything.” You begin, eyes narrowing carefully at the dragon across from you. “I guard myself as I do because my father always raised me as a weapon. I was not supposed to ever exist.”

“That does’t explain why you hate the ancients.” He mumbles, pausing only briefly in his application of the salve to glance upwards in your direction.

“I don’t hate my Uncle, but I certainly resent my father.” Comes your blunt reply.

Seonghwa nearly drops the jar in his one hand before clinging to it for dear life. His eyes widen significantly, gaze darting upwards to meet your own.

“The reason I hold myself like an ancient, Boy, is because I was raised by one.” You state, voice giving away a hint of bitterness as you speak these words.

“Your father is an ancient.” His jaw nearly drops, sitting stunned in his spot.

“He’s the one that made that goddamn prophecy, too.” You spit, pure ire shining on your face. “And if you so much as ask me about that fucking Jewel, I will tear your limbs off, and shove them down your throat.”

Seonghwa raises his one hand in understanding, knowing very well that you will hold true to your threat. Even if he so badly wants to ask. Still, he cannot help the questions racing through his head. Though, one sticks out more than all of the rest.

Do his brothers know?

“I would appreciate you not spreading this around,” you’re quick to continue. “Your brothers are not aware of this fact yet, and I would like the chance to tell them myself.”

Guess that answers that.

“Why would you tell me this, then?” His eyes narrow, shifting his gaze from the jar in his hand to you.

“You said that we are not enemies.” Comes your blunt reply, tilting your head upwards slightly and staring down your nose at him. “Prove it.”

“You confuse me.” He shakes his head before continuing to apply the salve to his injuries.

“The feeling is very much mutual at times,” you agree with a slight nod. “What confuses me even more is how you haven’t discovered your power, yet.”

The jar of ointment falls from his hand.

“Careful with that, it takes a week to brew,” you tut, raising a finger and causing the jar to begin levitating in the air before being gently placed on top of the counter.

“How the fuck do you know I haven’t discovered my power, yet?” His chest heaves, eyes sharp as he glares at you.

“I have already told you countless times tonight how similar we are,” you begin. “Why do you think I understand your personality so well? At least, most of it.”

“You’re wrong.” He huffs, arms crossing in front of his chest. “I don’t have a power. I never have, and I never will.”

“Is that so?” You tilt your head in inquiry at him, mirth dancing in your gaze. In a flash, you’ve reached beneath your counter, only to stab your dagger into the top of the wood. “Tell me, do you recognize this?”

His eyes glint maliciously, guard high and whole body tense.

“How could I ever forget the blade you almost killed me with.” He sneers, leaning as far back from you as the stool will allow.

“That’s the thing, Hala,” you meet his gaze. “It should have killed you. In two, maybe three minutes, tops. Do you know how long you lasted?”

Seonghwa remains quiet.

“Fifteen.” You answer for him. “You lasted fifteen minutes before I started treating you with the antidote.”

“So, what?” He huffs, clearly unamused. “I got lucky.”

“Diluted frost berry leaves make anyone vomit on contact with their tongue,” you continue. “You had to ingest two spoonfuls in order for it to take effect.”

“I think my body was focussing on expelling the poison at that point.” He counters.

“It had already been expelled.” You reply, somewhat bluntly. “The fact that you could even move as much as you did after everything was a miracle, but not when you think about it logically.”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying.” He states, fidgeting in his seat.

“You told me that you fell into a bush of wild rat thorns tonight.” You place your hands onto the top of the counter, palms facing down as you lean forward. “Do you know what type of plant that is?”

He takes a moment to think before shaking his head.

“Rat thorns are one of the most toxic plants on this side of the fjord. A simple scrape from them can render you unconscious. Multiple pricks and you will become paralyzed. They are commonly used in assassinations as when their thorns are ground into a fine powder, they do not emanate a smell, nor do they have any taste.” You explain, and you watch his face drain of any and all colour. “Any other regular dragon would have died on contact, if not shortly after. The closest location of rat thorn bushes to my home is ten minutes away at top speed. You should have dropped dead within a minute. Yet, you managed to make it all the way back to my place, still breathing.”

Seonghwa begins to shake his head, standing to his feet with enough force to knock the stool he had been sitting on to the ground.

“The reason, Seonghwa, that your wounds do not immediately close when you get them,” you mirror his stance, leaning forward even further once you’re on your own two feet, “is that your body is working to expel any toxins you might have incurred during injury. Only when it deems those toxins have left your system will your cuts truly begin to heal.”

He clutches his head, backing up against the wall as his whole body shakes.

“This can’t be happening,” he mutters, tugging at his roots harshly. “This isn’t happening.”

“The reason, Seonghwa, that you are so prideful and stubborn, directly correlates to your power. A power which you have always had since birth.” Your voice softens the slightest bit, gaze easing as you notice him spare a tentative glance upwards. “Negative thoughts can be just as toxic as any physical substance, seeping in and drowning you in doubt and darkness. You just need to find the antidote.”

Slowly, his trembling stops, but those tears he had been so desperately holding back begin to streak down his face.

“You are a dragon with the power of poison, Seonghwa,” you smile softly at him, a gentle reassurance that everything will turn out okay. “Do not let it intoxicate you.”

Slowly, the male begins to sink to your floor. His back is still against the wall, eyes intently staring at his shaking hands.

“All my life,” he breathes, a light sniffle escaping him. “All my life I believed myself to be powerless.”

“Which is why I’m assuming you hate the ancients for putting so much emphasis on personalized powers,” you voice, noticing how his head shifts to look up at you from his position on the floor.

A subtle nod is all you receiving in response.

“Also why I’m assuming you’re so obsessed with this heedless quest for the crown.” You add. “You wanted to prove yourself as a dragon without traditional powers that you could be just as strong and ruthless as those with them.”

Again, Seonghwa nods, wiping at his eyes soon after.

“You will not be able to change your entire personality overnight,” you state, and you watch as he shifts his gaze back to you. “Yet, you should be aware of these things to start improving upon them. I will tell you the same exact thing I told that hotheaded brother of yours. You need to find the balance, and not let your power consume you. You are more than just your power.”

You hold his gaze as he slowly pushes himself back to his feet, wiping at his tearstained cheeks all the while. Softly, he begins to nod once more, sniffling lightly as he calms himself down.

“Thank you.” He bows to you once more, and his actions catch you off guard, just as much now as they did the first time. “For everything tonight.”

You smile gently at him in response, and Seonghwa cannot help the way his breath hitches slightly in his throat when he rights himself to see that glorious expression on your features.

He swallows thickly. Have you always been this kind? This beautiful?

You grab the jar of salve off of the top of the table, capping it carefully.

“You best be getting home for some rest,” you cross the small distance to your backdoor, opening it and nodding slightly in his direction. “They’ve all been worried about you.”

“I doubt they’ll even want to see me again,” his shoulders slump slightly as he trudges to the open doorway. “I’ll be lucky if they even let me back in.”

“Simply tell Hongjoong that you’re all finally ready to be taught.” You see confusion pull at his features at your words, causing you to chuckle. “He’ll understand.”

Despite his brow furrowing slightly, you see him nod.

“Don’t forget this,” you say, tossing the jar with the remainder of the salve in it at him, to which he catches easily. “Also, tell Yeosang and Yunho that I’ll meet them the day after tomorrow near the front entrance to my village at dawn.”

“Okay,” the eldest Hala nods once in understanding. He goes to take a step towards the forest before he’s halting in his tracks. A blink, and he’s turned back around to face you. “How can I ever repay you?”

You smile, leaning against the frame of the door as you cross your arms loosely over your chest. “I think you should be able to surmise that on your own, after everything we’ve discussed tonight.”

Understanding flashes across his features, and he nods once firmly in your direction.

“Do not make me regret trusting you, too, Seonghwa.” You say, keeping your voice level as you meet his gaze. “You will truly not like what happens if you do.”

Again, Seonghwa nods his understanding, bowing once more to you before shifting and taking off into the night sky.

A small smile rests on your features as you retire into your house for the evening. Slowly, you begin to put everything away, taking your time to clean and store the remainder of the herbs you’ve left out for the moment. The oil lamps are slowly put out until one remains in your hand as you retreat into your bedroom for the evening.

Tonight went much better than you ever expected it could from the moment you sensed him drawing near. You have no idea what the future has in store for you, but with how things are beginning to look, you believe it can only get brighter from here.

Speaking with the eldest Hala has also made you realize a few things. Things you just might be ready and willing to begin sharing with others again.

One dragon in particular sticks out in your mind.

You firmly believe that Seonghwa will keep his word and not tell the others about the personal truths you revealed to him this night. You see your younger self in him too much to believe he would betray you like that. Especially after tonight.

The fact that you wake up to a basket of fresh produce sitting upon your back porch the next morning only confirms it. Not just any produce, either, but the same exact produce that he had made you drop that very first evening. Back when you had met him all those weeks ago.

487 notes · View notes

witchezandwonderz · 3 months ago

Text

Threads of Destiny- Part Two

Pairing: Æthelstan x reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Multipart series: Starts in Season five and will eventually end in Seven Kings Must Die.

Part One

Masterlist

I have included a name for the female reader, as I feel that sometimes Y/N does not feel as personable- please feel free to replace this with your name as you read.

Whole story summary: Under the ominous glow of the Blood Moon, Katye flees for her life. Pursued by ruthless hunters, she crosses paths with Æthelstan, a mysterious man with his own burdens. As danger closes in from all sides, they must navigate a treacherous world of betrayal, survival, and unspoken truths. But in a land ruled by blood and ambition, trust could be their greatest weapon—or their undoing.

Katye froze, her breath hitching as her eyes locked on the towering figure before her. The flickering firelight painted his face with sharp shadows. Uhtred of Bebbanburg. Even without knowing the man personally, his presence was unmistakable. The tales of his exploits had reached even the most isolated villages: warrior, lord, traitor to the Danes—or saviour of the Saxons, depending on who told the story.

She knew everything there was to know about the man standing before her. He had grown up with her father, fought by his side, but also betrayed him. If Uhtred had stayed loyal, her father might still be alive.

Brida had made sure Katye heard her version of events—the bitter, venomous recounting of Uhtred’s betrayal. Yet Katye knew better than to trust every word Brida produced.

The truth was, Katye was the daughter of the great Ragnar Ragnarson. After his murder, Brida had tried to raise her as her own. But Brida was Brida. Her love was conditional, her promises fleeting. Katye was not hers, and never would be.

Brida wanted power, Brida wanted revenge. She sought retribution against anyone and anything that had ever wronged her or those she loved. And when Katye refused to walk the same bloody path, Brida turned on her.

That was why Katye was running now.

She hadn’t meant to find Uhtred. But fate—fickle, ruthless fate—had brought her here, to him. And to the mysterious, handsome man who had helped her so far.

"Who is this?" Uhtred’s voice broke through the haze, sharp and direct. His piercing eyes swept over her, then Æthelstan, lingering just a fraction too long on the satchel at her side.

Æthelstan stepped forward, his stance protective yet cautious. “I found her in the woods, running from Danes. They were after her.”

Uhtred raised an eyebrow, an amused smile curling his lips. “And why would the Danes be hunting a young girl like a pack of wolves?”

Katye’s face remained impassive, though her bruised eye and busted lip told a story of their own. Her hand gripped her dagger tightly, unwilling to relax. “I am in possession of something they want,” she said flatly, her eyes flickering between the faces scrutinising her.

Uhtred stepped closer, causing her to instinctively retreat, bumping into Æthelstan. “What is it that you carry?” Uhtred’s curiosity was evident, his tone sharp.

Katye hesitated, then straightened her back. “Nothing that concerns you.”

Uhtred’s expression darkened, offended by her bluntness. “You expect me to offer you safety, yet you refuse to tell me why you’re being hunted?” His voice rose slightly, irritation creeping into his words.

Æthelstan stepped forward again, now standing between Katye and Uhtred. “Lord, she has had a long few days and needs food and rest,” he reasoned calmly. “We can address this later.”

Uhtred paused, his eyes narrowing as he considered the younger man’s words. Finally, he gave a short nod. “Fine. But we will speak again,” he warned, his gaze flicking back to Katye.

She let out a small sigh of relief, grateful for Æthelstan’s intervention. She followed him through the bustling camp, though she couldn’t resist glancing over her shoulder. Uhtred stood where they’d left him, his intense gaze still fixed on her.

Feeling uneasy, Katye offered him a small, hesitant smile before turning away and quickening her pace. Her hand clutched her satchel tightly.

The camp was alive with movement. Groups of men and women laughed and drank around the fires. The air was thick with the scent of smoke, roasting meat, and damp earth. No one paid her much attention as she passed, much to her relief. It was a strange feeling—being ignored. For years, she had been watched constantly, her every move monitored. The freedom felt foreign. Unsettling.

Æthelstan approached an older woman tending a large pot over a fire. He spoke to her in a low voice, but the noisy camp made it impossible for Katye to hear. Moments later, he turned back, handing Katye a bowl of steaming stew.

She hesitated for only a moment before accepting it, embarrassed by how desperate she felt. The warmth of the food seeped into her hands, and she forced herself to eat slowly, though hunger clawed at her stomach. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a proper meal.

“Thank you,” she murmured after swallowing a few bites. Her voice was quiet, almost lost in the sounds of the camp.

Æthelstan’s expression softened at her gratitude. “You must not have been around many kind people,” he observed gently.

Katye shook her head, her focus still on the bowl in her hands. Within moments, she had finished every last drop. She flushed slightly, embarrassed by her own haste. She handed the empty bowl back to Æthelstan, who only smiled.

“Come on,” he said, his tone light. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He led her away from the camp, their path lit only by the faint glow of the fires behind them and the silver light of the moon. They stopped at a small stream in a secluded clearing. Æthelstan knelt by the water, soaking a strip of cloth before wringing it out.

“I’ve nothing better to clean your wounds with,” he apologised, glancing up at her.

Katye chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Please, I am no lady. This will do fine.”

Æthelstan laughed, his grin wide. “You may not think so, but you look like a lady to me. Even if you are covered in mud.”

Katye rolled her eyes but smiled despite herself. She stood still as Æthelstan carefully dabbed the cloth over the cut on her cheek. His brow furrowed in concentration, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek as he worked.

She found herself watching him too closely—the way the firelight highlighted his sharp jawline, the faint crease between his brows. Her gaze lingered on his lips for too long, and she quickly looked away, her cheeks warming.

The sound of footsteps made them both step apart. A young man emerged from the trees, dark-haired with a teasing grin. He tossed a bundle of clothes to Æthelstan. “Here. Thought you might need these.”

Æthelstan thanked him, his tone light but hurried.

Once the man had gone, Katye cleared her throat. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to wash properly.”

Æthelstan looked startled. “The water will be freezing.”

Katye smirked. “I’ll survive. Now, if you’d kindly turn around.” She gestured for him to look away, already untying her cloak.

He hesitated, then turned his back, standing stiffly as she stepped into the stream.

After a while, Aethelstan started to worry, yet did not dare turn around, for he feared that he may see her in a way that she did not want to be seen.

"Katye" He called out. "Are you well?"

He then heard the sound of twigs crunching and cracking from the ground, followed by Katye's voice. "Yeah, you can turn around now."

And so he did, intending to ask if she needed more help. But when his eyes landed on her, the words faltered in his throat.

There she stood, droplets of water trailing down her skin as she adjusted the clean tunic Æthelstan had provided. The fabric clung to her damp body, outlining curves she would rather have hidden. Her long black hair, now free of the caked mud, cascaded down her back in wet, shining waves. The moonlight caught her features—the bright green eyes, a small, delicate nose, and a light dusting of freckles scattered across her cheeks and nose like stars.

Her eyes sparkled, now clearly more alert due the cold water, and her features, though soft and feminine, carried strength. She looked both fierce and fragile, a contradiction that he couldn’t quite reconcile.

“Is something wrong?” Katye asked, breaking the silence. Her voice carried a hint of suspicion, her eyes narrowing slightly as she held her hands on her hip. She was painfully aware of how the damp fabric clung to her, revealing more than she was comfortable with, but the Dane within her told her not to care.

“N-no,” Æthelstan stammered, quickly looking away. His cheeks flushed red, and he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I just… I didn’t realise—” He stopped himself before the words could tumble out. I didn’t realise you were so beautiful.

Katye’s lips curved into a faint smirk, though her cheeks warmed as well. “Didn’t realise what?” she prompted, raising an eyebrow.

“That you look…” Æthelstan trailed off, fumbling for something safe to say. “Different from before”

“Ah, so you’re saying I looked terrible before,” she teased, her tone light.

“No!” he protested quickly. “That’s not what I meant.”

Katye laughed softly, the sound surprising even herself. It had been so long since she’d found anything to laugh about. “Relax, Æthelstan. I’m only teasing.”

He smiled at her, relief softening his features. “Clean looks good on you." His cheeks flushed once again as the words tumbled from his mouth.

Her smirk widened, and she shook her head, moving past him to gather her satchel. “You’ve a strange way with compliments,” she laughed, gaining great pleasure from watching how embarrassed he was becoming.

Æthelstan watched her as she bent to pick up her belongings, her hair falling forward like a curtain. He forced himself to look away, inwardly berating his wandering eyes and thoughts. She’d been through enough, he reminded himself. She didn’t need his admiration or awkwardness adding to her burdens.

When she turned back to him, her green eyes caught his again, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them seemed heavier somehow, charged with something unspoken.

“You’re staring again,” she pointed out, tilting her head slightly.

“I—” Æthelstan hesitated, then cleared his throat. “I was just… making sure you’re all right.”

“I’m fine,” she replied, her tone softer now. “Though I should probably thank you. For all of this.” She gestured vaguely to her clean clothes and the river behind her. “You didn’t have to help me.”

“It was nothing,” he said quickly, his voice steady despite the warmth still lingering in his cheeks. “Anyone would have done the same.”

Katye’s expression hardened slightly, her guard rising again. “No,” she said quietly. “Not anyone.” She then sat down where she stood, patting the ground next to her, indicating that he should sit too.

"Can I trust you?" She asked. Aethelstan nodded in return. "No, can I really trust you?" She affirmed, attempting to communicate how serious she was. He nodded, again. "Yes".

Katye nodded, gaining courage to tell Aethelstan the story of why she was in this mess.

"My name, is Katye Ragnarson. My father, was Ragnar Ragnarson" She began to explain. Aethelstan watched her face closely, captivated as she told her story.

She explained that when her father had died, she was very, very little. Although he was in love with Brida- whom Aethelstan had heard countless stories about- she could not carry children of her own, the gods forbade it. She never knew her mother, for Brida had her killed as soon as her father had been killed. Brida attempted to raise her, but the older Katye got, the more they fell out. A loyal friend of Ragnar, gave Katye a satchel of things that her father had left for her.

"What is in it, Katye?" Aethelstan asked her, gently and cautiously placing his hand on hers. Katye gulped before removing the satchel from her side and placing it instead on her lap. "It contains three things" She stated, now undoing the satchel. "My fathers ring, a letter from my father stating that I am his only heir, and a prophecy." She breathed the words, relived that she had finally told someone who did not want to kill her for it.

She looked at Aethelstan, who sat in close proximity to her and blinked at her, encouraging her to continue. To which, she obliged. "The prophecy states that Ragnars true blood heir, will destroy the Danes, by allying with Saxons, signalling the end of the Dane way of life. Hence, why they all want to kill me."

--------

A/N: Likes, Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated:) <3

#the last kingdom #tlk fandom #tlk fanfic #aethelstan #aethelstan x reader #last kingdom #uhtred of bebbanburg #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom fanfic #harry gilby

25 notes · View notes

skyrim-forever · 2 months ago

Note

Your favourite thing about how you've characterised Ondolomar :3

Ouuuuuu this is an excellent question. I think my favourite thing about how I’ve characterized the reason I’ve given him for enlisting in the Thalmor. To explain I’ll post a snippet from a fic that deal with this directly, following is from Chapter 3 of If I came dying at your door:

“I’ve told you about my father, how I am not fond of him.” She nods. “It is a bit deeper than that. You know my people pride themselves on their racial superiority, good breeding of the utmost importance. I come from a good family, my parents, grandparents, etc. All predominantly come from good households, high status, on paper we are the ideal Dominion citizens.” She looks at him intently, noticing how since he’s brought up his father he looks away from her, staring off into a corner. “There are more than just physical failings, having a good lineage isn’t enough to make you perfect, you must refrain from any moral failings. Failings of character.” He continues. “My father committed many moral failings. He was a drunk, cheated frequently on my mother, with women who were as awful as he was. He got into public brawls, multiple arrests, would have been deplorable to any society but especially to one as strict as mine.” She puts a hand on his shoulder, a light grip to comfort him. “And that had an effect on how my mother, sister and I were viewed growing up. Particularly as his son I was seen as a failure waiting to happen. Only a matter of time and would I turn out like him. I kept my head down, eventually leaving Sunhold to study Dwemer history in Alinor. I had not made it a year before I enlisted. They sell a grand story. Promises of improving your station, your respectability. Bringing glory to the Third Altmeri Dominion is the greatest thing you can do for your family.” There’s a deep tired sigh, one that has been held for far longer that she could ever know. “And they were right, life did get better. My mother had more respect and was viewed favorably for having her son join; my sister was able to move up socially, allowing her to eventually marry someone she loved very dearly. And once my father finally passed due to the toll the drinking took on him, life got even better. I had brought pride to our family name. All I had to do was believe them and I did, I did for a very long time. So very dedicated to the cause.”

And within this cracks in his belief in their cause begin to occur, and growing to love Theodora is the last straw for him to lose complete faith ❤️

#tesblr #oc: theodora #ondolemar #I don’t wanna fill his tag with my shit #but his tag has been a bit empty so this can’t hurt #thank you for the ask!#really great question friend!

13 notes · View notes

blingblong55 · 2 years ago

Text

Nothing much- John Price

Based on request:

I had a kinda angsty to fluffy idea and thought you'd be great I writing it (I love reading your angst). So the reader doesn't have the greatest of parents, they'd yell at them when ever the reader got hurt instead of helping them. Fast forward, now the reader struggles revealing their injuries to the 141 During a mission the reader injures their arm. Theyre successful in stitching up the wound but is having a hard time wrapping it. Then one of the guys walk in, they help them and have a sweet heart to heart (I'm thinking either Ghost or Price would be a perfect fit). Sorry if this is kinda hard to understand it's been a long day and my mind is all jumbled lol

GN!Reader, fluff, angst, father figure!Price

Life is not always the easiest or most understanding, sometimes we are born into families that without much love or care raise us. The lack of care and love would be shown when parents would yell at you rather than help treat your wounds. One small cut they knew you accidentally did on yourself when you were jumping rope and they'd yell or make fun of you because how dare a child have fun without thinking of the consequences first.

The team had been sent on a simple mission, with nothing too much to worry about and no heavy planning. On the way out of the last building you cleared, a civilian holding a knife for their own protection mistook you for the hostiles, they stabbed you and when they noticed you were the ally they apologised and ran away scared.

You walked out of the building, and you held your shoulder, pretending you were sore as you kept pressure on the wound. No one knew about such a wound and all you could do was keep a straight face and walk to the extraction point. Ghost and Gaz talking about some weird building they went into and making some rather hilarious comments. Soap and Price talking about their plans for the weekend and you separated from the team, hoping they would not notice your sudden quietness.

By the time you all made it back to base, you walked quickly to your room, blood staining your black vest and some blood loss making you dizzy from time to time. You took your vest and shirt off once alone in your room. Medical kit on your bedside as you hissed and bit your lips while cleaning such a wound. In times like this, you can feel your family judging you, and criticising you for getting injured. Always the clumsy one whom they hated.

Price without any knock walks in, "Knew it.." he ushers out. Cigar in hand while the other holds his bucket hat. Part of you felt like he would yell at you, and criticise you for something that wasn't entirely your fault.

"Sorry," you mumble. Always apologised because you knew best when your parents would yell at you. "Hey, no need to, I'm sure this isn't your fault," he sat next to you, taking a look at your shoulder.

"How'd it happen?" he was always so soft with you, never being too cold or strict because without you saying much you told him your life story. To others outside of his team, he was a strict, rude and cold Captain. He began to clean and close the small wound, something he had to learn to do since most of the men he worked with were bound to get injured on the field.

"...Why didn't you tell me about this?" part of him asked to make some conversation but the other part knew to not force you to go to the med bay. He had tried with Ghost before and he knows a man like him is stubborn and doesn't give trust for free. Ghost was also a reason why he learned how to clean and close minor wounds.

"I did this, so no one should help."

"That's what they told you?" he asks once more not wanting to push the boundary. All he received was a small nod. He sighed and put a bandage on the closed wound. "Well, I'm not them, don't place me in the same category with them...I care Grim..I really do.." he places a hand on your other shoulder. You look at him, teary-eyed. "Price?"

"Yes, kiddo?"

Oh, the sweet words he always gave you. "You are better than them," you referred to your parents. "So much better that...you make me feel...safe..so safe that it's scary." He wipes the tears that roll down with soft delicate touches. This was the same conversation he once had with Ghost when he too was scared of how much affection and care Price had given him.

"You'll always be safe with me, kiddo...always" he kissed your forehead and patted your thigh. "Rest and tomorrow I'll check that shoulder, good night, r/n"

"Good night, Price"

152 notes · View notes

flowerandblood · 2 years ago

Text

Wicked prayers, sweet penances (8) (End)

[modern! priest • Aemond x Strong • female]

[warnings: sex content, domination, religious guilt, incest, fluff]

[description: Aemond, a deeply religious person, enters the seminary, wanting to fight the thoughts, that have been poisoning his mind for years at the sight of his niece. He returns home as a priest, but the desire he has been running away from returns to him again. A story full of incest, sexual tension and religious guilt.]

Previous chapters: Masterlist

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

_____

What happened in his life in the weeks following his decision, was pure nightmare. His mother burst into tears, when she heard what happened. She was even more devastated by the fact, that he refused to explain why he was leaving the priesthood. He couldn't tell her, that he was doing it for his niece, with whom he had been madly in love since childhood. Not even leaving the priesthood would make it sound any better.

His parish priest could not understand this decision either. He even said, that if a woman turned his head, they could do something about it, move him somewhere else. He didn't want to move. He wanted to be with her, to fuck her, to wake up and fall asleep next to her. He was tired of running away.

To his surprise, the person who showed him the greatest support was his own father. He told him, that he felt from the beginning, that it wasn't the way for him, but he couldn't convince his mother not to push him. Aemond was relieved to accept his offer to work in their family business, until his situation stabilized.

His appearance in the company, already without a clerical collar, caused a lot of confusion. Everyone asked him what happened and if he fell in love. He did not answer these questions, pretending not to hear them. As promised, he rented the apartment where they met. He immediately made a second pair of keys for her.

The apartment was small and was located at the very top of a tenement house in the suburbs. They wanted to make sure, that no one close to them would notice them. She used to tell her mother, that she was going to spend the night with friends or to a party, but in fact she was coming to him.

They agreed, that they wanted to spend the weekend together, rest and regenerate. This time was crazy for both of them. Even though it was hard for them, they felt closer than ever. Not a day goes by, that they don't talk on the phone or text each other. They were together and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

He was in the middle of preparing dinner, when he heard the quiet turning of the key in the lock on the front door. He shuddered with excitement, he hadn't seen her in over a week. They tried to avoid suspicion and seen less often, but for longer periods of time.

"Good evening!" He heard a happy voice and immediately smiled under his breath. She was taking off her shoes and jacket, breathing heavily, obviously tired from going up the third flight of stairs. She placed her backpack in the hall as she walked through the living room to the kitchenette.

"Good evening." He murmured, extending his hand to her, and she immediately bent down under it and hugged him. He wrapped his arm around her and kissed her hair, as he stirred the spaghetti in the pot with his other hand.

"Smells delicious. I'm so hungry." She sighed and looked at him. They kissed greedily, her hand tightening on his shirt. It was still hard for her to get used to the fact, that he wasn't wearing a clerical collar, but he wore all black anyway. He broke away from her with a wet sound.

"Lay out our plates, we'll eat in a moment." He murmured, kissing her forehead earlier, turning off the gas under the pot.

She obediently did as he instructed, pulling out the crockery she had picked out earlier in the shop. In fact, his apartment was their apartment. His niece helped him choose furniture, bought the necessary items, and they both wrote together, about what they would like their space to look like. Especially for her, he bought a large, oak bed on which they could lie together.

They sat down at the table, putting on spaghetti. Aemond opened the wine, red and semi-sweet, just the way she liked it. He poured them into a glass. Before they ate, he said a prayer, as was his custom as a priest. He didn't want to give up these habits. He knew he had made a mistakes, but despite appearances, he felt relieved after leaving the priesthood.

The fact, that he loved and wanted, was not so great a sin, as that he could no longer do his ministry properly. When he left, he finally felt, that he was standing in truth before God. He did not lie to the faithful, the parish priest and his mother. At least in this respect.

Their relationship, although incorrect in the eyes of many, was not such a serious sin for him. Many noble families have married their uncles and cousins throughout history. They were related by half, so that already made him feel less bad. They just lived as an ordinary unmarried couple, like most of the country.

He had talked to her many times, about how she felt about all this. He didn't want to be selfish and force her into a relationship, that would burden her in the long run. She was surprisingly sure of her decision. She wanted to be with him no matter what.

On one of their first nights together in his apartment, lying naked next to him, after having fucked twice in a row, she told him, that she had been in love with him since childhood. He wanted to cry at the thought, that she had reciprocated his feelings from the beginning.

They decided, that as long as she was finishing her studies, they would stay here. Then perhaps they would both move to another city and live there together permanently. They both wanted it.

They ate dinner, talking about the events of the past week. Despite the fact, that they wrote to each other every day, the topics did not end for them. Aemond had to find himself in an office reality, that made him incredibly nervous.

Everyone there was chasing goals, that were meaningless to him. They entered the results into tablets, that made no sense to him. Nevertheless, he did not want to disappoint his father and did what he was told. He attended all meetings and talked to clients.

After they finished eating, they looked at each other thoughtfully. His niece smiled warmly at him. He was hard from the moment she walked in to his apartment. He hadn't seen her in so long, that he wished for nothing more, than to throw her on the bed and fuck her all night long. She stood up, looking at him thoughtfully.

"Shall we take a bath?" She asked gently.

He looked at her with a look, that said it all. She smiled and went to the bathroom, turning on the water in the tub. They chose one that was comfortable for both of them. She loved hot bubble baths, and she had a whole range of different oils to go with it. She poured a few of them into the water, they immediately began to foam, a nice, pleasant smell spread around.

Aemond stood, leaning against the bathroom door frame, looking at her calmly. She already had her toothbrush, creams and makeup removers, pajamas and nightgowns bought especially for his house.

He saw, that she had taken one of his favorite strappy nightgowns, halfway down her thighs, a light, lace-embroidered, slightly sheer one, that he could see through her beautiful body. He thought with amusement, that she probably wouldn't even be able to wear it in time.

When she found, that there was enough water and that it was at the temperature she wanted, she began to undress. She had long ago ceased to be ashamed of him, on the contrary, he had the impression that she was tempting him with her body more and more. Encouraged, he reached for the waistband of his pants, undoing it slowly.

He watched as she pulled off her shirt, with no bra underneath. Her soft breasts and pink nipples gleamed in the soft bathroom light above the mirror. She took off her pants and then her panties, leaving her completely naked.

She tied her hair into a bun with a rubber band and stepped into the tub, submerging herself in the foam. He joined her after a while, sitting across from her, his knees slightly above the water. They stared at each other for a moment, her legs resting on his thighs.

She pretended not to feel his hard, swollen manhood against them. She leaned against the edge of the tub with the back of her head, closing her eyes, relaxing completely. They both lay there in silence, relaxing.

They both flinched, when they heard the notification sound from her phone. She reached for it with a wet hand and glanced at the display, then sighed as she put the phone down. Aemond raised an eyebrow.

"It's him again?" He asked calmly. She just sighed.

He knew there was a man who liked her. She showed him his messages, as she thought about what to text back, to make him leave her alone. He couldn't believe how jealous he was of her. The fact, that he couldn't show and tell the world, that she was only his drove him crazy.

"He texts me once in a while, he doesn't understand what I'm saying to him." She sighed heavily, rubbing her temple. "I'm tired of his behavior, but he's a PhD student I'm taking classes with and I can't be mean to him. At least until I pass this semester." She said helplessly.

Aemond pursed his lips and looked away. They had talked about it several times before, and he knew what the situation was.

Seeing his expression, she got up and moved towards him, straddling him, his swollen cock feeling the pressure of her belly. She turned his cheek towards her. They stared at each other for a moment in silence. His lips parted slightly as she began to rub against him, his manhood throbbing impatiently, craving her attention.

"You know, that I'm all yours. Only, only yours." She whispered, leaning over him, her lips brushing his, her wet breasts pressing against his chest. They both gasped, as his cock began to press against her from below, their lips massaging with a sticky, wet sound.

"I need to feel you" He whispered into her mouth helplessly, and she shivered at his words. She stood up, all covered in foam like Botticeli's mythological Venus. She turned to face the wall and leaned in, her buttocks and wet, swollen entrance on level with his face.

"Just fuck me" She said softly. Unable to take it any longer, he took her buttocks in his hands and licked her throbbing, wet pussy.

She moaned loudly at the feeling of it, his tongue teasing her clit before sliding deep inside her. Her buttocks began to press harder against his face, as he massaged her, the rough surface of his tongue pressing against her where she liked it.

"Do you like it, when your uncle takes care of you?" He purred, licking her with the tip of his tongue, teasing her all over, her thighs quivering with desire.

"Y-yes, you make me feel so good" She moaned helplessly, panting heavily, apparently she was about to come.

He rose from the water, placing the tip of his cock against her wet, throbbing entrance, teasing her without putting it in.

"Did you miss it? Missed my cock inside you?" He asked feisty, he was angry and jealous, he wanted to drive her to the brink of despair.

"Yes, I missed you so much, please" She sobbed, and he couldn't refuse her.

He entered her with a sudden, confident motion, filling her with his throbbing cock to the end. They both moaned loudly and panted as he began to fuck her, their wet bodies slamming against each other with a sticky sound. He watched with delight, as his cock moved in and out of her, taking what was his, what was always his.

He thought they really were like Hades and Persephone. Hades was her uncle too, he wanted her too and he stole her, drawing her into the world of darkness as he was now. From sweet, innocent Kora, he made her his Persephone, sexual, moist and eternally thirsty. They were now in his dark world of the dead, this was their 1/4 year, their winter, where their bodies writhed together.

"I love you." He gasped helplessly, his hands clenched tight around her buttocks, his cock fucking hard and fast her tight, throbbing cunt. He couldn't count how many times he'd cum inside her, how many times he'd experienced that forbidden pleasure with her. He knew he would never stop doing it. That if she wanted to, he would even be ready to have children with her.

"I love you too, so, so much!" She sobbed loudly and came, moaning in convulsions, her insides clenching mercilessly against him, his thrusts brutal, seeking fulfillment.

"Just like that, God, yes!" He gasped in delight, cumming inside her with a low moan, moving for a moment longer with a wet, sticky slap. He slid out of her finally, his cum running down her thigh.

He turned her to face him, pulled her in sharply, and kissed her deeply, tenderly, passionately. She cuddled up to him, returning his kisses sweetly, purring into his mouth. He picked her up, walking out of the tub with her. He took a clean towel and wiped her first, then himself.

He carried her to their bedroom and placed her on the bed, laying next to her, lying on his side. His hand caressed her beautiful, glowing skin gently, their bodies hot from bathing and orgasm. They enjoyed the cool sheets around them. Aemond looked at her body thoughtfully.

"Aemond?" She asked quietly. He looked at her, surprised. She used to tease him by calling him uncle. He loved it when she said his name, just like she did when they were kids. She often did it at his request in bed, when he was fucking her, or when she wanted to tell him something important.

"Hmm?" He grunted, touching her cheek.

"Do you remember how I used to come to you at night, after my father died?" She asked quietly. He nodded.

"We kissed then, didn't we? On the lips." She said, even in the darkness he could feel her blushing.

"Yes." He grunted at the pleasant memory.

"I loved it when you did that. When you touched me. Only you. I didn't go to sleep with Aegon or my brothers. I wanted you. How could you leave me?" She asked softly, her lip quivering. They never talked about this period, finding it too painful for both of them, enjoying the here and now. He swallowed hard, dropping his eye.

"I couldn't handle what I felt. I thought you'd loathe me. And you'd be right." He said low and hesitantly, running his fingers over her shoulder. Her lips parted slightly.

"Promise you'll never leave me again." She whispered in a trembling voice.

He felt a shiver run through him. He pulled her to him, pressing his forehead against hers, his hand on her cheek.

"Never."

_____

This is the last chapter of this story. Thank you all for receiving this story so well and I invite you to read my other fanfics! 💖

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @avgdusterfan @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @random-ocity @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @snh96 @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes

Others: @letmeloveyouuuu

172 notes · View notes