#that could explain why they were always so unstable

[tanglepelt]

This is a super fun idea.

Imagine the letters being constant. Starting with normal stuff he vents about. Like the school bullies the fact he keeps failing his classes.

Ohh if it’s a clone situation his first letter could be about how he understands the confusion. He had to process the fact he had a clone already. Then the bullies and stuff after.

Then the ghost attacks are sprinkled in here and there. How his adoptive parents are more and more distance.

Then a whole letter about the fruitloop. The basement, the times vlad has kidnapped him, the whole “camping” incident and then the plans to break him.

Imagine the terror the bio parent would have hearing about his humanity being ripped out by said front loop then how he fought his future self. Danny’s letters only get more concerning.

The siege of amity. The time his city was almost fed to plants. How skulker is hunting him. Wanting to skin him. Just concerning facts.

One day they just stop. The parent could begin to fear the worst. It wouldn’t be a huge jump in logic to fear there child had reached his end.

Then a letter comes. Casually apologizing for not writing. He had been captured by the government who experimented on him. That it wasn’t to serious of experiments. He still had his organs and everything would heal.

His bio parents outed the fact he wasn’t fully human to the guys in white. (No explanation on who those are)

It’s not a big deal his friends broke him out and they are now on the run. Danny promises to write more.

The bio parents were already struggling with the fact they had a kid. The fact he seemed to be very much in danger. Just to not get a letter for a month. Only causing them to justifiably be pissed. Not at Danny but at the government.

There’s never been much to work off. Now they knew there is a government agency with guys in white (not a hard jump to Giw). It’s finally something they can work with.

Danny finds out hes a clone/ adopted, and instead of processing that like a normal person he decides, "Well its not like they can find me so imma mess with my bio parent(s) while venting my frustrations. Two birds with one stone."

Hence (hero or villian of your choice) begins receiving letters via untraceable magic of him telling them he's thier clone/son and just telling them about his day/past adventures.

Unfortunately most of his adventures are horrifying and the person is desperately scrambling to find thier dumb (possibly undead) child and rescue them.

It probably doesn't help that Danny only signs his name as Phantom and is careful not to give clues to his location.

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Being Their Weapon

Requested: a preference of femreader being the boys' main weapon, that homelander doesn't even know of..? 😫 dialogue prompt 27 & 60 - anon

A/N: Reminder my loves! Prompts only go with fic requests, no other kind of requests. It's all in the pinned post, please be sure to read! I've updated it recently to be as clear as possible :) I also only write gn!readers as it states in my rules linked in my bio. Hope you can understand! I based it loosely off this fic because I think the Supe abilities would fit perfectly! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Butcher didn't like you and you didn't like Butcher. He punched you, he hit you with his gun. He knew you thought about killing him that day, grabbing his wrist and killing him instantly, but Frenchie stopped you. When you agree to help them, you make sure it's known that you're not doing this for Butcher at all. That if it were just him asking you, you'd let him die. He thought you were stupid. Stupid and dangerous and unstable. Kicking them out like that only proved him right. Regardless of what Hughie or Frenchie or Kimiko said, nothing would change the way he felt about you. He would never admit that he was grateful for your help, but he was. If everything went to hell, at least they'd have you. Still, he couldn't help but eye you every time you came in. He didn't like what you could do. If you decided you weren't interested, if you felt threatened even a little bit, you could kill all of them without even trying.

Hughie had no problem with what you could do. It's not like you could control what the V did to you. And you never wanted the V in the first place. It was intimidating sure, but he wasn't scared of you because of it. Underneath the fear, the resistance, was someone who just wanted to be treated with a little kindness. He could do that. He could do more than that. He tried to talk to Annie about why she was so hesitant, but she just couldn't explain it. You warmed up to Hughie pretty quickly. He was curious about your powers. You showed him what you could do with plants, fruits and vegetables mostly. They'd rot in your hands. You could kill everyone and everything. You admitted to him all the things you missed, but were too scared of doing, even with gloves and protection. Hugs mostly, petting animals. He hadn't realized how much your powers would affect you. The least he could do was not be scared of you. The least he could do was be your friend.

Annie tries not to stare. Alongside the whole "killing people with your touch" You were a little cagey. The last time she saw you you were screaming at everyone to get out of your apartment. Now you stood beside Frenchie, trying not to draw attention to yourself. You clung to Frenchie and Kimiko, keeping everyone else at a professional distance. She tried to be nice, she tried not to flinch when you moved too fast or abruptly, but she couldn't help it. Like M.M. she was wary about you. You'd all done things you weren't proud of, but you turned your Supe-ability into a prpfession. A dangerous one that left a lot of innocent (and not so innocent, you'd like to point out) dead. She knows your upbringing wasn't the most traditional, but was that really an excuse? You could tell how she felt just from the way she looked at you. You tried not to take it personally.

M.M likes you, but he doesn't like the idea of you. Killing people just by touching them is just too much. Too dangerous. He makes sure he's never too close to you. Unlike Frenchie who is quote affectionate and far more easygoing than everyone else, Marvin was stressed out. He watched you carefully, keenly, making sure he only came near you when you were wearing gloves or something else that prevented any skin from showing. You know he feels this way and you don't push it. There were tons of people in your life like him, scared of you, petrified even. You knew it was better to keep your distance and not to try anything funny. It was just easier. No jokes, nothing. You didn't mind keeping your relationship professional. Marvin knew how important you were, that it was a big sacrifice given your past to accept this offer, but he couldn't let go of the idea that you could kill any number of them with your pinky alone.

Frenchie is the first person you trust out of the whole group. He comes back to see you alone. If you truly don't want to help, he won't force you. He just wants to talk. Despite yourself, you let him in. Maybe loneliness is finally getting to you. You're still wary, but eventually you let go a little, realizing he was going to keep his word. You become friends. He's the first friend you've had since you were a kid, before being locked up. He wasn't as afraid of you as everyone else was and you were constantly reminding him to be careful around you. You start to ask questions, logistical ones about what it would mean to join the team, what it would mean to take down Homelander. He assured you they would never let anything happen to you. You trust him. When he brings you to meet the team officially, there's a collective sign in relief. If the plan went wrong, if they ran out of options, they would always have you. You were the perfect weapon. To Frenchie though, you were just a new friend, teammate.

Kimiko likes you. If Frenchie likes you, then she does too. You're a little hesitant to start signing with her. Your hands flying everywhere wasn't such a good idea given that you could kill someone. Still, she didn't mind. She understood the fears, your past. The both of you had been used. The both of you had been given Compound V. You both killed people. Kimiko was the second person you trusted and this tome it was immediate. She wasn't scared of you, though she understood your hesitation. Good things were never truly good. There was always something horrible lingering just behind it. Friends were nice. Friends were a good thing. But doing this? Killing Homelander? That could lead to something awful. You had to be hesitant. You had to be careful. She wasn't going to hold this kind of thinking against you. You had as much a right to be afraid as they did.

[dolicekiss]

Yandere Will Graham Headcanon

PAIRING: Yandere!Will Graham x reader

CONTENT WARNING: Noncon (not in detail), dark Will Graham, yandere behavior, manipulation, coercion, obsessed Will, adult grooming, taking advantage of reader, trauma, kidnapping, abuse, murder, guilt tripping, forced impregnating.

He first laid his gaze on you when he found you cooped up in the corner of a house, a victim of utmost violence by the hands of an unstable woman who thought she was only protecting you from evil — a mother who'd lost her child so she went on a rampage to kidnap girls and forcefully mother them.

Will Graham had saved multiple girls from the clutches of that woman but you — you had caught his attention.

Late at night, he often found himself thinking about you. How your hair hovered over your face, the sheer terror in your eyes. You were the most abused and hurt victim of that woman. It left a scar on you.

His visits at the hospital you were admitted grew more upon finding out from Jack Crawford that you were an orphan.

Bringing you food, taking care of you, even reading books to bring ease to you and sleeping on the couch across your bed.

Slowly and surely, he found his way underneath your layers and coaxed you into depending on him. Grooming you into becoming dependent on him.

Whenever he didn't visit, you denied your food as well as resisting to eat your medicines. But when Will Graham came, everything calmed down.

People began to talk. Just why had you grown this attached to him? And when Will Graham was told to stay away from you by Jack Crawford, it only angered him.

So he stopped visiting you. Waited and waited for you to be discharged, lurking in the shadows. He waited for you to come to him and when you came running to his office, it was a sight he couldn't forget.

Yandere!Will Graham who immediately took you in when you came to him — knowing he had you wrapped around his finger.

He saw you talking to Alana and after eavesdropping on your conversation with her, he figured she was advicing you against him. It angered him. So he decided to get rid of her.

When she ended up dead, everyone was scared because of how brutal her death was. It even left you scared, turning to Will for comfort.

And the man welcomed you with open arms. Telling you to never leave him, or you'd end up like her too.

Only he could protect you, only he could save you like how he already did against your perpetrator and you believed him. How could you not? He was always there to protect you.

Yandere!Will Graham not allowing you to leave his house, guilt tripping you into taking care of his dogs because they don't have anyone other than him.

One day you were cleaning around the house and found a heel, a very familiar looking heel. It was Alana’s and before you could register what was happening, Will was behind you.

He tackled you down on the floor, holding you against it while trying to explain himself.

You'd realized that Will had killed Alana, the same man who claimed to be your protector.

“She was telling you to be independent, to find yourself. Just how could I let that happen? You're mine, I did all this for you.”

There was no way you could free yourself from him. You were terrified, remnants of your horrifying experience coming back to you.

Will held you tightly against his chest as he stabbed you with a syringe, rendering you unconscious. When you woke back up, you found yourself chained.

He sat right next to you, arms on his knees as he stared at you. Eyes glimmering with excitement when he saw you regained consciousness.

“Don't be afraid. I would never hurt you, don't look at me like that.”

It didn't matter. You were all over the place. Face wet with tears and sweat, lips twitching in fear and breath ragged. You were still a sight for sore eyes. His sore eyes.

Yandere!Will who believed that the only way to change your mind was to fuck you, take you right then and there and make you his totally.

And after he was done with you, he'd left you so braindead, there was no way you could leave him now.

Weak minded, broken and with nowhere to go, you accepted him.

Yandere!Will promising you that he'll give you a child to strengthen your relationship — no matter how much he feared his own turning out like him. He was willing to risk it for you.

[litnerdwrites]

Rhys being the 'most powerful hl' ultimately hinders the story. If SJM wanted the nc to be underdogs, it should've been the smallest, most unstable court.

Historically, objectively bad or unmoral people can sometimes be the best rulers while objectively good or moral people can be terrible rulers. Take advantage of this.

Make Rhysand need to wear the mask of the cruel, ruthless high lord in order to prevent the CON and Illyria from rebelling. Make both of those places have a certain amount of political and militaristic power over him that would explain why he can't just force them to do as he pleases.

Have the NC be the court with the highest crime rates, and poverty rates and Rhysand be considered a ruthless ruler. One who 'lets' amren out on the prowl to steal wealth (preferably from greedy rich nobles) but they don't know that it's redistributed into running the NC, and looking after the people.

Have Mor actually help woman but drinking and visiting the con or other cities under the guise going there to flex her power and act tyranicle, but secretly leave money, medical supplies, tickets to boats/carriages, etc. Or even instructions to their library where sa survivors heal (maybe not in the how, but somewhere else, hidden or warded).

Have Azriel and Cassian push the limits of the Illyrians, not enough to incite war, but to keep them in line. If men clip wings, have Azriel either assassinate them or Cassian publicly punish or beat them but not reveal the reason why, so it comes off as tyranny.

Make them act like villains for a damn reason, and actually accomplish things in the process, even if it's small. Perhaps even have the land itself be dying (like the dusk court centuries ago), making food harder to come by too.

Maybe even have the concept of Velaris be a legend, of the Night Court's former glory, but in the current story, be a shell of itself. This would give the so-called court of dreams something to dream about and work towards.

Have the previous rulers of the nc be objectively moral people, that were bad at ruling and created the unstable political climate Rhysand needs to navigate, while Feyre gives him new perspective. Have Elain and Nesta come in later, and help teach Feyre about politics based on what they knew from their mortal lives. Give them dreams and aspirations of their own.

Give each of the Archeron Sisters something in the NC that would cement it as their home, if that's what you want to do. Have Feyre speak with the Illyrian women, teach them to hunt, learn of their issues, etc. Have her repair her relationship with Nesta over helping them, with Nesta using the training of her childhood to help the Illyrian women overthrow the corrupt lords that insist on treating them as lesser than.

Give Feyre and Nesta a chance to learn about each other, their childhood, how neglected Feyre felt and how abused Nesta was, before coming together to reach a common goal. Then, Nesta could become a diplomat that helped the nc repair their foreign relations, giving her the chance to travel that she always wanted.

Make the humans have innovative methods of agriculture, given they don't have magic. Have Elain want to help the people of downtrodden villages and towns, teaching them about those innovative methods, to help rejuvenate the land. Still let her have trauma, but let them have their own reasons to want to stay in the nc or not stay in the nc.

Making Rhysand 'the most powerful hl' doesn't make him unique or interesting. It makes it too easy to wonder why he won't do something when he sits in a seat of power and privilege, to do it. So, take away that power. Give him something to earn. Give the entire IC a dream/vision for what the NC could be and work to it, throughout the books, instead of handing it to them on a silver platter. Make them work for it.

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Heaven is not fit to house a love (like you and I) | Last Part

Word Count: 13.8k

Genre: smut, angst, fluff

Summary: When you first met your boyfriend, it was love at first sight. No, more than that. It was love before you even met. It felt like you had known each other in another life and were meant to find each other again. 

But that's not actually true, is it? You and Beomgyu don't actually know each other from another life, and the dreams you've been having aren't memories of your past life either. That's ridiculous. 

But then why does Beomgyu get so defensive about them? And why does each dream feel more real than the one before? 

A/N: this is the sequel to my series YAMQN but I'm trying to write it in a way that it would be comprehensible to people who have never read YAMQN. The parts in italic are the dreams. 

Warnings: fem!reader, sub!gyu, dom!reader, dom!gyu, sub!reader, fingering, handjobs, missionary, doggy, mentions of previous noncon, yandere behaviour, violence, bodily harm, alienation

You still have the dreams, the memories, the torment. They never went away despite you trying your goddamn hardest. Your brain seems to conjure them up harder and more vividly the more you work to push them away. You don't know if Beomgyu knows this but he's beside you every possible second of every day, keeping you busy and helping to push it all away, or at least distract you from it. 

You've quit your job. Beomgyu isn't unreasonable. He will help you get another job, just as soon as you feel better. But not right now. You're not ready yet. You need rest and he makes sure you get it, devoting every second he's not at his job or getting you food and stuff you need to taking care of you.

He wanted you to move away, just pack your things and get away from this place that had brought you both such grief, but you couldn't go through with it. Not yet. You had freaked out when he suggested it, telling you it would do you good to get a fresh start and get away from Taehyun but you know he wouldn't be the only one you'd be getting away from. All your friends are here. Your family is here. And even though you're hardly seeing them right now, you know it wouldn't be right to completely uproot yourself from everything you've ever known except Beomgyu. Even though you'd promised to completely and fully devote yourself to only him, you know it can't be good for your already unstable mental state.

You tell him that you'd feel so terribly alone if you move away, especially when he goes to work. So he offers to quit his job to spend all his time with you, explaining that he has put aside some savings he could use for the time being but you still refuse. You tell him that you'd be horribly selfish to let him waste the little precious money he saved up just so he can babysit you but you don’t tell him about how much it scares you to cross that last boundary, to let him completely and utterly devour your entire life despite something at the bottom of your soul telling you to just give it to him.   

Beomgyu reassures you that he doesn’t mind. He wants to spend his money to make sure you're taken care of, but you still refuse. You stand your ground and hold onto the last shred of your life that is not his–for what? You don’t know–and he reluctantly lets it go, for now at least. 

Instead, he uses the time he does have with you to pamper you, feeding you breakfast in bed, getting you things to occupy your time while he's away, drawing baths for you when he gets home from work. It all feels so terribly familiar. The sense of deja vu choking you but Beomgyu is determined to mentally and physically push it all out of your mind and take its place instead. 

He only reads you happy poems and stories, only sings you cheerful love songs. You feel like he’s lulling you into a deep slumber. You're still where you've always been–your friends and family are still within reach, your old life is there to reclaim if you want to–but it's like he'd succeeded in putting a wall between you and the world just like he wanted, and it scares you that you can't tell if that is a good or bad thing. Maybe you should just give into him, fall into him and dissolve into his being until no one will ever be able to pull you apart again. 

You feel his fingers knead the skin of your shoulders as he sits behind you in the bathtub–once again using his free time after work to take care of you instead of giving himself a break after working hard all day. Bubbles and candles surround you, the calming scent of them permeating your brain like a drug, aided by the glass of wine in your hand, to lull you further into your slumber. You let out small hums of appreciation under Beomgyu's expert hands that seem to know you better than you know yourself. How does he know where exactly to touch to unwind a particular knot in your back or relieve a certain stress that has been nagging you for a while? All you have to do is sit there and sip your wine, letting the groggy feeling from the liquid combine with the blissful pleasure of Beomgyu's touch to submerge you deeper into a dreamy state that one day you may never wake up from. 

“There is this beach I was reading about online that I'd like to visit.” You tell him lazily and he chirps happily. He always gets so excited when you initiate any outings or dates to go on and it makes that familiar tender spot in your heart ache at how selfish you’re being. He tries so hard to make you happy and fill your life up with fun and exciting things to do to distract you from the loneliness, and yet you so rarely respond in kind. “Sure. Anything you want, my love.” 

You smile, hearing the relief in his voice, and you go on, a little more excitedly. “It's near that old medieval castle at the cliff top. It's very popular.” 

“Oh, that place.” His hands falter and you can feel a sudden strange chill in the air. “It's just an overrated touristy spot. I know plenty of other beaches that are better.”

You pout. You didn't expect his response. He is usually happy to do whatever you want and you had actually been looking forward to going to that particular beach for a while. “But I want to go there. The beach looks really nice and I thought I could even go explore that old abandoned castle with my prince.” You giggle, trying to crane your head back to send him a flirty look but the expression you find on his face wipes all hints of playfulness off yours.

“And I don't want to. Pick literally anywhere else.” His response is strangely irritated and you frown. You should probably drop it. He is right. There are plenty of nice beaches around. You don't have to go to that particular one. But something about his sharp refusal prompts you to dig more. Stupid girl. Don’t you know that curiosity killed the cat? 

“Why do I need to when we can just go there?” You huff, tension creeping back into your shoulders. 

“I said no.” He rebuts with no explanation and your fiery temper sparks through the heavy fog that has been weighing on your brain. 

“Oh, you said no? Well then if Master says no then I guess that's the end of it.” You snap, your anger begging for you to let it catch fire.  

“Why are you being difficult? I thought you said you'd listen to me?” 

And just like it, he snuffs it all under his finger. You immediately shut down. How long is he going to hold that over your head? You've quit your job. You haven't spoken to Taehyun since then. You hardly see your friends. You stay home waiting for him like a dutiful little housewife. What more does he want from you? You know you've made a mistake. You know you promised to make it up to him and regain his trust, but surely asking to visit a stupid beach doesn't count as a potential breach of trust, does it? 

“Forget it.” You mumble, deflated. You were really looking forward to going there. The place looked super pretty online. It was one of the few places lately that have managed to get you excited at the prospect of visiting them. It held a certain vibrant draw to it when everything else seemed gray and dull in comparison. But you guess you can’t have even that.

You try to get out of the bath, no longer in the mood for intimate messages, but Beomgyu holds you back. Of course, he does. 

“Wait.” You hear Beomgyu sigh and let his hands drop to the water to circle around your waist and pull your body back against him, his lips kissing the junction between your neck and shoulder gently, apologetically. “I'm sorry, baby. I just have a bad feeling about that place. Can't you trust me on that?”

A bad feeling about the place? What the fuck does that mean? It’s just a beach, what could possibly go wrong there? 

Still, you hesitate. You didn’t think that anything could go wrong by being friends with Taehyun either and that Beomgyu was being overly jealous and paranoid but here you are. Maybe if you go there you'll fucking drown or something crazy like that.

You suppose you can give him that. You know if you had a bad feeling about a place, Beomgyu would not force you to go there. It probably wouldn’t be fun anyway if you make him go and he hates every second of it. You want to do something you both enjoy. 

But you really wanted to visit that place. Maybe you should go when he's at work… 

No. Just the idea of going out in public alone without Beomgyu makes you shudder. You can't handle being around people without Beomgyu's comforting presence to rely on. He's got you right where he wants you.

“Fine.” You say in a small voice, finally relenting. 

“Thank you, princess.” He sighs in relief and the tension in the air begins to dissipate once again. “I know you’re bored. I promise to take some time off work and take you on a nice vacation somewhere. How does that sound?”

“Okay.” You mumble unenthusiastically. 

“Come on. Cheer up.” He holds your jaw gently and turns you towards him, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that slowly turns sensual. 

“Beomgyu…” You whine into his mouth, the water shifting as you rub your thighs together. He will never not have an effect on you. You’re too weak for him. 

“I know, princess.” His hand drops between your legs, loosening you up. “I got you.”

His light touches are as strong as electric currents coursing through your veins, and before long, you find yourself squirming in his hold, pushing yourself closer to his touch while paradoxically trying to get away from the intense feeling at the same time. 

But he doesn’t let you. He throws his other arm over you, caging you into place as he takes a hold of your breasts, kneading them until your nipples have pebbled in need. 

“Baby…” You keen, pushing your breasts further into his hand, and crying out as he pulls one of your perked nipples between his thumb and forefinger. 

“Relax for me, baby.” He hums, holding you in place as he works his fingers inside you. It stings a bit as the water dilutes your arousal but he throws your legs on either edge of the tub to give him more space for his fingers to easily breach your hole, the heel of his palm working in tandem to bring you to the edge so scarily fast that you barely even register the sharp bite of his teeth on your neck as he zealously marks you. “Let me take care of you.” 

It’s a spell–a bid to get you to let go, and it’s so hard to not give in when he makes it feel so damn good. 

You're so exposed like this. Even though there is no one here to see you but Beomgyu, it feels like the whole universe is watching him spread you open to his satisfaction and no amount of faux demurity would fool the universe into believing you're not a willing participant in all of this. It's hard to care about your debauched display when your orgasm was heating you up from the inside so much you feel like you might spontaneously combust. Why is it always so intense with him? How does he do it so well? 

You may never know but what you do know is that your orgasm was rolling towards you like the water rolling over the edge of the tub, sharp and sudden, and when it reaches you it threatens to take you under. But Beomgyu holds your head above the water as his relentless fingers continue to fuck you until you yield to his will. You break apart under his touch, forgetting about everything except him in those few moments, forgetting about the beach, the castle, Taehyun and everything you've lost–the only thing registering in your mind is Beomgyu's touch, Beomgyu's smell, Beomgyu's warmth.  

“Beomgyu, Beomgyu, Beomgyu!” You cry as your whole body convulses in his arms, yet it doesn't slip from his hold for even a second, and when you finally come down from your quaking orgasm, you're still in his hold but half of the bath water had spilled over the edge, exposing your skin to the chilly room air–a stark contrast to the searing heat of Beomgyu’s hard cock pressing against you lower back as he tries to subtly jerk himself off against you, and it's your turn to hold him in the palm of your hand.

His quiet desperation brings even more memories to mind, memories of prince Beomgyu needily humping you in frantic attempt to get off, secret exclamations of desire and forbidden love whispered hotly on the skin of your neck or ears or breasts as he mounts you like a dog in heat in a way that he makes sure to tell you is not befitting the image of a prince like him. 

But when you turn around, it's your Beomgyu you see there, a regular college student on the surface, though nothing about him is regular. Is he really even your Beomgyu? The image of him in front of you shimmering and wavering between the Beomgyu you know and prince Beomgyu, and you're not sure which one is real anymore.

“You’re perfect.” He tries to reach out to you but you put his hands on either edge of the bathtub. “Keep those there.”

“Baby–” He starts to whine but shuts up when you grab his submerged cock and start jerking him off roughly. More water splashes out of the tub but neither of you care. He'll clean it up after anyway and you don’t even feel guilty about it. 

“Please, please.” He cries pathetically as if you're the one in control.

“Please what?” You ask curiously as if you're expecting him to suddenly reveal something that would make sense of the tangled mess you've made of him in your mind. 

“Anything.” 

You snort. “God, if someone is to see you like this they'd think I never touch you. You've been cumming every day, in my hand, my mouth, my ass, my cunt, on my face, my tits, my back…”

“It's not enough.” He shakes his head, looking delirious. “Never enough.”

“Well if it's not enough then what's the point of me doing this?” You taunt, going to pull your hand away from him but his own hands quickly fly out to grab yours and put it back on his cock as his whole body springs forward to get close to you as if he could glue his body to yours so you can't escape. “No! Please!”

“Get your hands off me.” You growl and he quickly puts his hands back on the tub's edge, trying to appease you so you wouldn’t deny him, but it’s not enough. He has to feel as helpless as he makes you feel and so you push him away roughly, his head almost hitting the ceramic as his back meets the wall of the tub. 

“You can't keep your hands to yourself, huh?” You purr, raising your free hand to his chest to play with his nipples, making his back arch and his fingers turn as white as the ceramic they're gripping onto while your other hand twists over his cock. 

“Sorry.”

God, you hate hearing that false word fall out of his mouth. You're pretty sure Beomgyu has never been sorry for anything in his life. 

“Are you?” You challenge, squeezing your hand around the head of his cock tightly. “Are you really sorry?” 

“Princess?” He cocks his head to the side innocently, as if he has no idea what you’re talking about. God, how he drives you crazy. “Please, I’ve been good.” 

Has he? You can’t tell anymore. He's poisoned your mind so much you can't think straight. 

You sigh, jerking him off fast, hard, knowing that the only thing that can soothe your troubled mind right now is watching your tormenter–your everything��fall apart in your grip just like he had done to you over and over again. And he doesn't disappoint. 

“Fuck! Oh, gods, I'm so close.” 

“Gods?” You laugh. That’s new. “I'm your only god, baby.”

“Yeah… only you.” He easily agrees with whatever you say, no thoughts behind his big adoring eyes, his body lying limp in the bathtub, only his hips moving to meet your fist everytime it goes down to smack against his pelvis. “Wanna cum for you. Worked so hard for it.”

“You did, didn't you?” You coo, one of your thumbs brushing against his hard nipples while the other teases the slit of his leaking cock. “Worked so hard to take care of me. Just need a little bit of attention in return, don't you?”

He nods eagerly, his lewd unabashed moans echoing all around the small bathroom as his high builds and builds, not daring to snap without your divine order. “Please, please…”

“Poor baby.” You tsk, looking at the man laid out before you and knowing in your heart of hearts that he was far from innocent. 

Rotten. That's the word that comes to mind when you look at him and you can't put your finger on why. But then why does he still look so beautiful to you? 

“Cum for me, love.”

“Yes! Thank you!” He cries out, his cum shooting out of his cock and immediately dispersing in the soapy water, tainting it like he's tainted you but you can’t get yourself to get away from it, the same way you can't get yourself to get away from him. You're rotten too now.  

“I love you so much.” He slurs as his body sinks into the water. 

“I know.” You do. It's the only thing you can be sure of anymore in the confusing mess that has become your life. That and “I love you too.”

___________________________

“Taehyun, what are you doing here? How did you get this address?” Your slow dreamy life comes into sudden disturbing focus when you see the one person you've been hiding from standing right outside your door. But your barrage of questions can't stop him from pushing past you into the apartment and back into your life. 

“I got your address from Yujin.” He explains once he's in and you look around in worry. He shouldn't be here. You'd barely managed to convince Beomgyu not to hurt him when he found out you had kissed him. What is he going to do if he finds him alone with you in the apartment while he's at work? You can't even let yourself think about it. It's too terrifying. You need to get him out. Why the fuck would Yunjun give him your address? Is she doing this to get back at Beomgyu? To get back at you? 

“Please leave. Beomgyu is going to lose his shit if he sees you.” You tell him as if that's not the understatement of the century. But Taehyun doesn’t appear to be phased. 

“I know. He is very dangerous. That's why I'm here.” He tells you, calmly acknowledging your statement that would have anyone else possibly running for the hills. “I have to tell you something. I think you were right. I think the dreams are memories.” 

You freeze in your spot, all thoughts of getting him out of here suddenly put on the backburner. What the hell is he saying? Has he gone crazy too?

You have secretly, shamefully, been harboring that rotten suspicion for a while now. The dreams just all felt too real to just be dreams. Nothing that vivid, that detailed, could just be the product of a slumbering mind, right? Besides, it didn't even stop at the dreams. You were having these “recollections” even while you're awake now, but you don’t dare believe them to be real memories because what would that mean for you? Best case scenario is that you've officially lost your mind and worst case scenario is that all of those dreams and images actually are real and Beomgyu really did all those awful things. You did all those awful things for him. 

“What makes you say that?” You gulp, asking cautiously. This feels like one of those moments that could forever change the trajectory of your life and maybe if you keep a cool safe distance away, you'd come out of this unscathed.

“I have been having more of them too. They have been plaguing my every sleeping moment, my every waking moment. They’re driving me insane–” He looks up at you and his expression almost knocks you off your feet. You know that look all too well. You see it in the mirror every day now. It’s the look of someone feeling themselves going mad and hoping that they really are because the alternative is just too cruel to consider–all the grief, all the blood, all the loss. No, it’s simply too much to bear, and you can hear the same torment you’re running from twisting his voice as he goes on. “Memories of us together… we were married in your dreams, right?”

His face is afflicted with an agony so raw it lashes against your skin in thick, bitter strokes that leave you gasping.  You never told him that. How did he know that? Okay, calm down. Breathe. This doesn't mean anything. He just had a lucky guess. Nothing more. 

“Yeah.” You admit slowly, watching him cautiously as if waiting for a further attack from him, and he doesn't disappoint. 

“You left me for him.” He says, an accusation in his voice that makes you falter. He is speaking to you as if he’s now fully convinced that the dreams are true, as if you really were married and you’d left him for Beomgyu. 

“No!” It feels strange defending something that a possibly fictional, possibly real version of you may have done because she's not you!--or is she? You didn’t leave him but you did. You don’t have to answer for her crimes but you feel compelled to try to anyway. “I thought I was saving you.”

But that just makes him angry, his fury so deep it couldn’t possibly have just been born today. It feels ancient, the edge of it sharpening over centuries. “Don't lie. That's not why you left.”

“It is. I swear. I just wanted to save you. I wanted to save everyone.” Your words sound insane even to your own ears but they're tumbling out of your mouth before you can even fully process them, again feeling compelled to defend yourself. You don’t even understand half of what you’re fighting about–your only aid in this battle are half-formed images of a fabled previous life you don’t want to remember.

“You’re lying to yourself.” He spits out bitterly, his visage taking on a hue that makes him look much older than he actually is–that makes him look like the Taehyun from your dreams, afflicted by loss and death and forced to grow up way too quickly. And here he is again, aging years in the blink of an eye. “You knew how crazy he was. You knew he wouldn't stop and you didn’t care. You just wanted to go back to him. You never fucking cared.”

“I didn't. I swear to god–” The way his conversation was heading brings a fresh wave of nauseating deja vu crashing onto you. You shake your head, trying to dispel whatever Folie a deux you both seem to have fallen victim to. You need to pull the plug on this insanity before you completely lose your mind. 

“Forget it. This is insane. Those memories aren't real. We're just working ourselves up into a frenzy. My brain has obviously sprung up all that shit out of my anxiety regarding me and Beomgyu's relationship, and after I told you about them, you started dreaming them up too.” You narrow your eyes at him as you attempt to rationalize your way through this mess, “Or you're taking advantage of my obvious mental instability to convince me to ditch my boyfriend to be with you.”

That must be it. It's the only explanation that makes sense and you try to hold onto it like a woman drowning, but Taehyun refuses to let you. 

“For fuck's sake, woman, wake up!” He grabs you by the shoulder and shakes you as if he could forcefully shake off the walls of denial you’ve been trying to build around yourself. “It's me. We've been reincarnated again for some sick reason and we're forced to relive everything we've done again, just in a different setting. Maybe it's a punishment. Maybe it's a test to see if we would choose differently. Choose right.”

“And the right choice is you?” You ask and he scoffs, looking affronted by the mere idea of there being a question about it. “It clearly isn't him. After all he's done to you. He imprisoned you. He raped you… He killed you.”

He looks as if he doesn't fully realize what he'd said until he’d said it, as if the returning memory was compelling his tongue to speak before it's been fully realized in his brain, and as the memory passes through him to you, you suddenly feel a sharp, piercing pain in your abdomen. It only lasts for a second but it draws the breath right out of you. For that second it feels like your soul is being carried away on that breath and you panic at the terrifyingly all too familiar sensation of dying. No. No. No.

But just as suddenly as that breath was exhaled, it was shoved back into your chest when Taehyun covers the phantom wound with his hand. Your own hands quickly clasp around his, and your eyes widen in a gruesome realization. 

“He killed our baby.” You whisper, your face suddenly wet with tears you didn't realize were there. Oh god. You're the dead ex-girlfriend, aren't you? There was never anyone else. It was always you.

“He did. He wasn’t going to let anyone have you if he couldn’t. Even your own child.” Taehyun says, allowing a painful melancholy back into his voice. “So he stole you from the world.” 

You and Taehyun slowly and fearfully piece together this traumatic past life you seemed to share, some details you had already recalled before while others were triggered by Taehyun’s own mad recollections. It's not a perfect story. There are many gaps in it but the main frame is enough. 

You were a Lady at Prince Beomgyu's royal palace. You loved each other but couldn't be together because he was betrothed to someone else, couldn't even tell eachother. But Beomgyu was secretly plotting to keep you bound to him, and it was working until Taehyun came into the picture and you developed an interest in each other. Beomgyu didn’t like that and he went crazy and… he hurt you. That pushed you to finally escape from him and marry Taehyun but your marriage wasn't perfect and Beomgyu took advantage of that. He threatened the lives of thousands, including Taehyun, if you didn’t go back to him. Taehyun told you not to but you did. You thought you'd be saving him and everyone else but you had just stupidly walked into Beomgyu's trap. He never intended to let Taehyun live. And when you finally realized your mistake, when you saw Taehyun's life on the line, you acted in a moment's frenzy to save him, plunging your knife right into Beomgyu's heart and ultimately succumbing to a fatal wound he dealt to you in response with a kiss and a promise that he'd find you again.

And he did. Gods help you, he did. 

It's a horrific story, disgusting, cruel, and you don’t want to believe it. It can't be. 

“We have to go. We have to leave before he comes back.” Taehyun pulls on your arm but you hesitate, automatically digging your heels on the ground and not letting him move you. He stares at you in shock. “You can't be serious? You're choosing him again after everything?”

You shake your head, panicking. “No, Taehyun–”

You want to tell him that you haven't chosen anything. You just don't know enough to make a decision. You still don't know if any of this is actually real or if you're both just mad. Even if your brain tells you it is, your heart tells you that it can't be true. This is ridiculous. Beomgyu loves you. He would never do this to you. And who is to say that he even knows any of this himself? What if he's just like you and Taehyun were at first, only feeling an inexplicable sense of love for you and hatred towards Taehyun that he doesn’t even understand the source of? Is that why he had been acting so irrational and scared to lose you? Because he has all these emotions he can't explain? 

And what about Taehyun? Yes, you had something maybe in a past life but does any of that translate into right now? Can you abandon Beomgyu and the real love you have for each other in order to build a relationship based just on memories of a previous life that ended tragically for all of you? Did that past Taehyun even love you?

You want to explain all of that to him but you don't even get the chance to before you're interrupted by the sound of keys turning in the front door's lock. 

Your eyes widen and fear grips your heart. Despite what you tell yourself about none of this being real, you suddenly fear for Taehyun's life. 

“Hide. Please, hide.” You try to tell him but he's not listening to you. He has no intention of hiding and you can see that when he grabs your hand and pulls you behind him roughly. 

When Beomgyu steps into the house and sees you, all doubt in your heart about the memories being false dash out of the room with the first word out of his mouth. 

“Again?” He asks coldly, viciously. “I knew from the moment you met him that this would happen. Even centuries later you can’t fucking help but act like a slut when he's around, huh?”

“You knew.” You croak, throat closing up to try to prevent that breath from escaping once again, fear shaking you to your core. “You always knew.”

You were too kind. Too stupid. He wasn't acting crazy because he loves you so much and was afraid of losing you. He wasn't acting crazy because he didn't understand his own feelings. He was acting crazy because he's done this before and he’ll be damned if he lets you ruin it again. 

"Of course I did. I have to find you every time.” 

“Every time?” The shaking spreads to your heart, weakening it, throwing off its rhythm. Your poor, naive heart that doesn’t know what to do with itself when the one person it loved and trusted in the world has been lying to it this whole time. “This happened more than once before?”

He laughs cruelly. “This, something else, the details differ but it's always us. Me and you.” He turns to Taehyun with rage that could hardly be contained in the small room. “Not him. I haven't seen him since that first time. The gods really wanted to piss me off this time.”

“Or maybe they wanted her to finally break free from you.” Taehyun's grip tightens around you–to hold you back or to protect you, you don’t know–something that Beomgyu doesn’t fail to notice, his upper lip curling in a snarl, clearly displeased that Taehyun even dares to touch you. But before he can act out on his rage, you speak up. 

“So what? We just keep getting reincarnated and reliving this misery over and over again?” You’re surprised he hears you when you can hardly hear yourself. 

“You do. Not me. I was only reincarnated once, right after we died. I spent many lifetimes in your tomb, mourning you. I thought that was what I was brought back for and I would've stayed there forever but I was drawn out by the gods who wanted me to realize they’ve sent you back again and again for me to find you. It's amusing to them, to see me suffer and lose you.” 

He knew from the beginning. He knew lifetimes ago and he lied to you from the start, made you feel crazy for having these dreams, tried to gaslight you into believing it was all in your head all while working to put distance between you and everyone else so he can have you all to himself. How long was he going to keep up the facade for? Is this what he did every time or does he always come up with new cruel and unusual ways to break you just like he did that very first time? 

“Why?” You ask lowly and he stares at you in confusion, not understanding the question so you gather up your strength and speak louder, more clearly. You need to finally get answers. “Does it ever work?” 

“Sometimes it does. For a little while anyway, before the gods decide we've had it good for too long and tear us apart again.” He scowls, blasphemously enraged at those mythically evil gods. “At first I thought they were giving us second chances but they're just laughing at us, watching us get together before ripping us apart like a child ripping the wings off a fly.”

“Then why let them? Why keep doing it?” You ask again and Beomgyu directs his anger at you. 

"Would you have been able to have all those memories of us, not just of our first life but every single one after, all these fragments of our infinity together and just ignore it and move on, just pretend like you don't know the other half of your soul is out there waiting for you to complete them?"

You shake your head. No. You've fallen for it before you'd even regained your memories. You can't imagine how brutal it is on him. God, to imagine him scouring the earth looking for you only to lose you again and again in horrific ways… it made your soul ache for him despite everything. 

"I have to keep trying. We were so close this time. We were fucking happy. I worked so hard to make everything perfect for us but you had to ruin it. You had to let him in.” He growls at Taehyun who was unimpressed with his entire confession. 

“If my mere existence was enough to ruin your happiness then maybe it wasn't real from the start.” He challenges, not letting you go for a second. He'd learned his lesson. His hold on you hurts, turns your hand cold and blue but you dare not protest. “You've lied to her, manipulated her and blinded her until she bowed to your twisted will and even then she was still struggling against you every step of the way. If you really loved her, you would let her go. I bet she was the most happy during those lifetimes when you were under the ground in her tomb where you belong. You killed her. You deserve to mourn her for eternity. You don't deserve to get a second chance with her.” 

“It doesn’t matter what I deserve. I know she wants to be with me, which is more than I could say about you.” Beomgyu’s face twists in a sadistic grin. “Despite everything, she still can’t live without me. You know, because you've tried to make her. She never loved you and it kills you to know it.” 

That works. Taehyun lets go of your hand and lunges at him. Beomgyu is on the ground before the scream leaves your tense throat. He didn’t stand a chance. You’ve seen Taehyun fight before, and Beomgyu–immortal being that he is–still is not able to weather the flurry of punches Taehyun’s trained fists are raining down at him. 

Taehyun pummels him to the ground right in front of your eyes and you can’t bear to see it. Yes, Beomgyu has hurt you. Yes, he has been lying to you and manipulating you all this time. Yes, he's done unthinkable things for you, to you, but you still can't just stand there and watch him get hurt. You're sick of all the pain. You want it to be different this time. Maybe that's the way to break free of this curse. 

You try to tear them apart but Taehyun is like an unstoppable force that has been dying to be unleashed. You cry and pull and plead but he doesn’t stop, slowly reducing the love of your life into a bloody, gory crime scene before your very eyes and you don't know what to do to stop him. 

It’s only when you see the glint of a knife as he pulls it out of his pocket that you’re able to finally do something to stop the carnage, and you throw yourself over Beomgyu in order to protect him. 

“Please!” You cry out, inconsolable. “Please, stop hurting him.”

Please, don’t take him from me again. You hear her sob from deep inside your soul, getting louder and louder by the second as she struggles to finally break through the rusty door of memory and time. 

“He has to die.” Taehyun growls, looking crazed. “He won't stop until he’s dead.”

No. No more death. That can’t be how it ends again. 

“I can't let you hurt him.” You sob, shielding Beomgyu with your life. You don’t know if this Taehyun would kill you–You don’t know if past Taehyun would’ve killed you–but you can’t let him do this. 

“I knew you would choose me, princess.” You hear Beomgyu’s muffled voice from beneath you and look down to see a demented, bloody grin on his face before you and Taehyun are thrown off him. 

He does it so easily, leaving you to gape at him in shock. If he could’ve done this from the start then why did he let Taehyun beat him up? 

You watch in horror as the tables quickly turn and in the blink of an eye it’s Taehyun that is on the floor and Beomgyu is on top of him with his hands around his throat, choking the life out of him. No matter how hard Taehyun tries to push him off, he does not budge. 

You try too. Beomgyu was never heavy, even you are usually able to throw him around if you really wanted to, but now he is like a rock that can’t be moved. You rip at his clothes and nothing. You claw at his skin and nothing. Nothing happens except the slow snuffing of Taehyun’s breath under him. 

“No. Why are you doing this?” You wail, tears burning on your cheeks. “Just stop. Please. I can’t lose either of you again.” 

But you should’ve known better. You should’ve known that would only make Beomgyu angrier. "This is why he has to die. We were happy before he came along and we’ll be happy again once he’s gone.” 

You can see Taehyun’s face turn blue as he struggles and fails to push Beomgyu off him, the only sound coming from him are his thrashing limbs, no air able to escape from under Beomgyu’s death grip. 

The view is enough to suffocate even you and you quickly say everything you could think of that might persuade Beomgyu to spare Taehyun, even if spelt your own doom. “Don't hurt him. I'll go with you. I swear I will go with you and I won't try to fight you ever again. Just let him go. Let him go and I’ll be all yours.” 

“Your promises mean nothing to me when you’ve broken them so easily before. It doesn’t matter. You’re mine anyway.” He answers, unimpressed and you shake your head. “I will fight you every day if you hurt him. I will never forgive you. You may have me physically but my heart won’t be yours anymore. You’ve fucked up so much Beomgyu. You owe me this.” 

He grunts, his hands tightening around Taehyun’s throat for a second–the poor man’s face almost turning purple now–before he loosens his grip enough to allow a thin, raspy breath of air into Taehyun’s lungs. 

“What does it matter anyway? He'll be reborn again. Away from us.” He spits out angrily, his fingers twitching–dying to resume their vice grip on Taehyun’s throat but thankfully holding back.  

"It matters to me. If you want me to let you have me, you’ll spare him.” 

To your surprise, it is not Beomgyu but Taehyun who speaks up, his voice so uncharacteristically weak coming out of his almost crushed windpipe. “Let him kill me. Maybe then I'll be rid of you.”

The coldness in his voice freezes the air in your lungs, forming jagged icicles that tear you apart from the inside. 

“You've made a fool of me too many times before. I will not live out another life as a fool. Free me of you.”

You hold back your tears. “Taehyun…” 

“You'll never escape from him because you deserve him.” 

Beomgyu looks torn between his fury at Taehyun’s vicious attack on you, and his relief that he’s ruining whatever goodwill you’d built up behind his back, but he seems to settle on the latter, a slow unkind smile warping his lips. 

“See what he is? He was never the better option. He would never love you like I do, unconditionally and forever. Let me kill him. It will do us all good.” His voice turns fearsome on that last appeal and you struggle to remain unshaken in the face of it. Yes, you deserve this. If all the little and big pieces of your past life that have come back to you are real then you deserve to live in a world bound to the monster you nurtured and hated by the one man who tried to break you free from him. 

“Let him live.” You insist, fighting both men for Taehyun’s life now. “Let him live or I’ll make sure that all that you’ve worked for this time will have been for naught. You may as well kill me after him because you’ll never be able to have me in this lifetime again.” 

Beomgyu bares his teeth at you like a feral dog, unhappy about your demands of mercy for the sake of the man who in his eyes was the reason he lost you–and by the sounds of it is intent on doing it again.

“If you keep me alive I will hunt you both down until I kill you.” He warns and Beomgyu looks at you in a silent plea, like a child begging to pour salt on a slug, but you shake your head at him. 

Do you not care about his threat? Of course you do. Do you not believe him? Of course you do. But just like before, you've got no one to blame but yourself and Beomgyu–Beomgyu because he forces the strings of fate to weave to his will and bring you together no matter how ugly and knotted it ends up making your lives, and you for always stringing along innocent people into it, tying them up into a mess that isn’t their own. 

“Come on, Beomgyu.” You put your hand out to him. “Let’s go.” 

You see the vitriol in his eyes soften at the extended hand. You know he wants to take it. He wants nothing more than to take your hand and disappear forever with you–Taehyun is an afterthought to him, this entire life just a distraction in the grand scheme of things–and so he does. He reaches out to take your hand, but not before he grabs Taehyun’s head, smacking it against the hard ground and knocking him out. 

You gasp at the violent action, withdrawing your hand in shock but Beomgyu doesn’t let you, reaching out to clasp it tightly in his own hand, reminding you that once you give him something, you can never have it back. “Beomgyu!”

He rolls his eyes, standing up and pulling you flush against his body. “He’ll live. Might take some time to recover, or better yet he’ll be dumber for it, but he’ll live just like you wanted. Now forget about him and just focus on me.” He grabs your chin and turns your gaze away from the unconscious Taehyun and towards his own face. “You have to hold up your end of the bargain now princess or you'll pay with his life.” 

Of course. Even this small act of kindness couldn't be selfless. He only did it in order to ensure your good behavior. As long as you live, you’ll have to appease Beomgyu's demented whims or Taehyun’s life will be on the line. A deal with the devil.

Your lips tremble and you ask yourself. Is this really what you deserve after all? Were the sins of your past life so offensive to the gods that the only way to pay for them is through eternal damnation with your monster? Was there no hope of salvation for you? And would you have taken it if there was? 

“Where are you taking me?” You ask in a shaky voice as he pulls you after him and away from the flat, leaving every part of this temporary life behind. 

"Somewhere no one will ever find us.”

__________________________________

The journey to this place in the middle of nowhere lasts longer than you could’ve imagined, longer than you could stay awake, that it feels like he was really taking you somewhere at the edge of the universe where no one can reach you ever again. You doze off as the adrenaline that had kept you going until now leaves your body, and Beomgyu is more than happy to let you rest in the backseat of his car as he takes you through dark remote areas you wouldn’t have been able to keep track of even if you were awake. 

When you finally reach your destination and groggily step out of the car with his help, you almost think you’re still dreaming, because in front of you is a massive mansion you’ve never seen or heard off before. All the way around was nothing but empty woods, the imposing and impressive structure seemingly completely cut off from the rest of the world. 

You look at Beomgyu in shock, the sleep flying off your eyes at the unexpected sight. 

Beomgyu grins–or at least attempts to through the swelling of his lips, his bloody teeth barely visible underneath. Oh, your poor beautiful boy. He looks like a mess. “Do you like it, princess?” 

“H-How?” You ask cluelessly as he pulls you towards the entrance. “Being immortal has its perks. I knew I needed to make myself a small fortune to show off whenever you were ready to come back to me.” 

You’re in for a bigger shock when you finally step inside the mansion, because everyone and everything here–all the decorations, furniture, servants and household staff gathered around to greet you–are all styled in a way you only recognize from your dreams. The entire mansion looks as if Beomgyu had plucked it straight out of your first life. 

And yes, there are people there. You had been fully expecting this grand building to be running on magic or something ridiculous like that. After all, if immortality and vengeful gods are real, what makes the thought that stupid? But no, there are people here and you honestly can’t tell if they belong to this era or if Beomgyu somehow stole them from your previous life. 

“Welcome home, my lady.” A woman who you presume to be the head of the household staff bows towards you. You just stare at her, mouth agape. She didn’t look like she was wearing a costume or putting on an act. She looked exactly how you remember the staff at the old palace looked like.  

And what did she say? Home? Is this really home? It looked like it–definitely smaller than Beomgyu’s old palace despite how big and opulent it is by modern standards– but you’re scared by how your guards are already going down by the familiar sight. 

Beomgyu nudges you as the woman straightens back up and stares at you in expectation. 

“Uh, yes, thank you.” You chew on your lip and Beomgyu chuckles lightly. “You’ll have to forgive my princess. This is all a bit of a shock for her. I am sure once she goes back to her old self, she’ll be much more mannerly.” 

“Ah, yes, of course. Silly me.” The woman laughed graciously in turn, “The poor dear must be exhausted from all that travel. I know we have all been waiting for her to finally arrive but I suppose our welcome party will have to wait for the morning when she’s properly rested.”

They have been waiting? They knew you were coming. Beomgyu was always going to win, wasn't he? It was just a matter of time. He always does.

“That’s right. She can hardly stay upright from the fatigue.” He pulls you towards him, and you realize belatedly that he’s holding you up by the waist. “Pray tell me that our bath is ready.”

“Of course, my prince. And a fresh change of clothes too.” She chirps happily, proud of her immaculate service. “It’s all waiting for you upstairs.” 

“Wonderful.” Beomgyu turns towards you and smiles, “Let's head to our chambers, love, shall we?”

Your spacious bedroom has an almost equally large ensuite attached to it where some servants were still fussing about, putting extra oils and salts into your bath to make it gentler and more calming, before Beomgyu dismisses them and goes about his familiar habit of bathing both you and himself. You barely register any of it, too preoccupied by the overstated luxury of the place around you to pay much attention to him undressing you and pulling you into the large tub–the water a perfect temperature, the smell heavenly, his touch both gentle and purposeful as he attempts to cleanse you of your previous life. 

You feel both out of place and right at home, the two very different sides of you pushing and pulling as you look around the room. The way this bathroom is decorated and even the products he’s using look and feel more expensive than your entire life had been so far, and Beomgyu appears well aware of that fact and quite pleased with it too–happy that he could finally show off what he’s been dying to for so long. You always had a feeling he wanted to shower you in the finer things and you never understood or accepted it because you thought he was just another broke college student making stupid rash decisions in order to impress his love, but now you get it. 

He makes sure to explain to you the source of everything he’s using and the rare ingredients that go into it, trying to appeal to that old part of you that had apparently yearned for spoils and riches. Of course these weren’t just simple shower products that normal plebs use. These were made specifically for you, just waiting for your arrival. He points out every aspect of the bathroom and the room attached to it that seems to be catching your eye at the moment and tells you how he chose them and where he got them from–how he chose the golden and brown accents because they’re reminiscent of the sunflowers you so adore–how he had the ceiling decorated in shining stars to resemble the stars you would see when you laid in each other’s arms in the palace gardens. It was all so meticulously planned and decorated just for you. 

Is it really for you though? It may have been for a past you but are you still her? Can this extravagance be for you when you never even realized that anyone would ever care to spend so much money on a place that everyone else uses only to get rid of their waste or wash off the dirt and grime off their bodies? 

But as Beomgyu continues to flaunt it all to you, you realize that even a room as ordinary as a bathroom is another space where the rich and powerful can show off their wealth. It’s a room where they go to shed the filth of the outside world away and relish in their highly curated luxury and beauty just as Beomgyu is doing right now–diligently scrubbing that real world off you and washing it down the drain until this fantasy mansion looks like it could be where you belong. 

If just the bathroom was hard for you to wrap your head around, you can’t even begin to describe how lavish the connected bedroom is, but one thing that catches your eye amidst the exuberance of it all is the portrait in the middle of the wall facing you. It’s a portrait of you and Beomgyu, or rather prince Beomgyu and the person you were back then. He is standing behind you in all his royal garb and you’re in front of him dressed in the finest silks and jewelry money can buy, shining like his most prized possession as one of his hands rests on your shoulder and another is seen wrapped around your waist possessively.  

“Do you like it, princess?” He asks after he dries you off with the softest towel you’ve ever felt on your skin, his hands almost mirroring the portrait as his slightly bloody lips follow the curve of your neck, not caring if he leaves small crimson streaks on your skin. “Does the place suit your taste?” 

“It’s…” You utter slowly, eyes jumping around the room as Beomgyu stares at you with hopeful anticipation, waiting for the realization of all his effort, but as you say your next words, his expression falls. “It’s a lot.” 

“A lot?” He scoffs, offended. “The you I know would never say such a word.” 

You gulp. “Well maybe that person isn’t here anymore.” 

Why would you say that? Why would you purposefully upset him when he’s shown you time and time again what he’s capable of? It’s a lie of course. She has always been there deep inside, slumbering but not dead, just waiting for him to come back and awaken her. 

“Not there anymore?” He growls, pushing you onto the impossibly soft bed and climbing over you, not as gentle as he had been so far. “Bullshit. You just need a little reminding.”

He kisses you roughly, angrily, with the weight of centuries of longing that had turned sharp and tender. You can’t help but respond back. Despite your words, she claws her way out of the abyss at his beckoning. 

“Why do you always have to make me work for it?” He growls, nipping at your neck while his fingers find their way between your legs, the easy practiced way he can get you dripping no longer such a mystery to you. He has honed it over lifetimes. “Why do you love torturing me?” 

You? Torturing him? He has controlled you in this life and the first one and probably all others in between. He has manipulated and hurt you in countless ways and yet you’re the one hurting him? 

“Because you deserve it.” You breathe out mournfully, “We deserve it.” 

His swollen lips curl in distaste. “I don’t care. As long as I got you, I don't give a shit about anything else. Let me be damned for all of eternity as long as you're mine.” He kisses you again, the metallic bitter taste of blood combined with his natural sweetness so fitting for him, your corrupted angel. “Always mine.” 

He pushes his fingers inside you and your pussy takes him easily, knowing who it belongs to before even you did. 

The way he has you on your back with your legs open and your feet in the air is a scene you’re sure has recurred over and over again across your centuries with him, repeatedly laying his claim to your pliant body until you can no longer rebuke him, your body knowing what to expect now even if your mind still struggles to catch up. 

You feel Beomgyu pull on your hand to wrap it around his cock, the silent order from him not needing to be said out loud for your body to start acting, your grip on him turning firm as your hand moves in that practiced way over his cock that has his jaw hanging open and his back arching into your touch, his eyes hungrily feasting on the sight of you splayed open and ready for the taking.  But he waits, letting both your desires build up to an unbearable heat. 

“Fuck, Beomgyu… just do it already.” You hiss, sick of the wait. He knows you're his. You've always been and always will be so he should just get it over with. But of course Beomgyu can't let it be that simple. He has to force you to say it. He has to rub your face in it so you won't dare disobey or deny him again. 

“Is my princess in there?” He cocks his head to the side, his thumb flicking your swollen clit, making you bite down on your lip. You can’t bear the way he looks at you. It makes your skin burn. 

“Yes.” A few hot tears fall down the sides of your face. Why bother fighting it anymore? He has won. 

“Does she want me?” He continues, pulling his fingers out and making you whimper at the emptiness as he takes your hand off him so he can replace his fingers at your entrance with the head of his cock, hot and thick, taunting you with what he could give you if you bend to his will. “Do you want me?”

He leans down to press his forehead against yours, locking eyes with you and looking right into your core, forcing you to face him as you give in. 

You let out a pathetic cry. “Yes. I want you. I will always want you.”

“Good girl.” He pushes inside you, letting out a heavy sigh of relief, like coming home after being lost for so long. “I missed you so much. I always knew you'd come back to me.”

He did. This entire mansion is a testament to it. And so you lie there on your back and take it, getting fucked open by Beomgyu, his beat up face not taking away from his beauty. If anything, his bruised and bloody visage contrasts with the backdrop of the elaborate and extravagant ceiling above him and serves to drive home the lengths he’s willing to go–the ugliness and horror he’s willing to let come pass so he can have you, so he can steal you away and keep you as a good, pliant fucktoy for the prince who had always been greedy for more than his fair share. 

“Maybe I should thank the fool for getting you back to me.” He murmurs, making your eyes jump from the glittering chandelier above him to his sparkling eyes that cannot be dimmed even by the blackness around them, that have only been put off once by death itself before he revolted against it and came back for you. “Getting you to remember us.” 

You frown. You know what he means. You were together before Taehyun came into the picture but not fully, not the way he wanted you to be. But now he's slowly getting back the you he's always been chasing, the you he may have only reunited with a few times over centuries. You understand that. Still that doesn't mean he can disparage Taehyun, and it doesn’t mean that you want to be reminded of him. 

“Don't speak of him.” You don't want to hear it. You're here, aren't you? He won and you’re here. He should just let you forget what that has meant for you. 

He smiles, more than happy to not speak another word of Taehyun ever again, and rewards you by bending down to kiss you as he fucks his cock ruthlessly in and out of you, fully devoted to helping you forget. 

“Fuck, I really missed you.” He groans against your lips before pulling back so he can feast his eyes on you. “Now that I have you back I don't think I can give you a break until I show you just how much I missed you. Gotta make up for all our lost time.” He drills his cock faster and harder into you, the wet sounds of flesh meeting flesh ringing around the room so loudly you're worried that all other occupants of the house can also hear it. “Not gonna rest until all your holes are filled to the brim with my cum and you remember just how much I love you.” 

“Gyu…” You whine at his loud promises, fearing the rest of the household is hearing his filth. “Keep it down.”

He laughs, fucking you harder. “Why should I? Everyone here knows who you belong to. They know their master will be fucking his princess every night. Every day. They may as well get used to it now because I don’t intend on hiding any of it.”

“What?” Your cheeks flush bright, surely he is not suggesting what you think he’s suggesting. 

“This isn't our old palace, princess. I don't have to hide what is mine anymore and I expect you not to either. And if that means they can hear or even see me claiming what is mine then so be it. It’s what I always wished I could do anyway.” 

Yes, you know that very well–images of Prince Beomgyu’s attempts at inappropriate touches in public flitting through your brain. You shake your head, whining. “Not hiding, just common decency…” 

“Fuck that. Gonna show the whole universe who this pussy belongs to.” He growls, and you feel one of his hands move between your bodies to reach your pussy, his fingers easily rubbing your soaked lips and making your thighs tense up. 

“Beomgyu!” You cry at the sudden spike in pleasure, your pussy clenching around him when you get no escape from it, his hips incessantly thrusting against yours and barreling you towards what you know will be a blinding orgasm. “It’s too much.” 

He shakes his head, fingers going faster. “Not enough. Never enough. Now cum for me, princess. Make a mess on my cock.” 

As if you could have stopped it even if you wanted to. Your orgasm causes your whole body to seize up–your thighs crash around his thin waist, your pussy spasming on his twitching cock, your nails digging down into the flesh of his back as you throw your head back and cry out loudly, the irony of you asking for decency not lost on your grinning lover. 

“That’s it. Good girl. Now take it. Take all of me.” He grunts, spending himself inside you, the first of the many times he promised you he would. The first of your lifetime together. “I love you. I love you so much.” 

In the heat of it all, it takes you a second to respond, a second too long for Beomgyu’s liking, and he grabs your face and makes you lock eyes with him. “I love you.” He repeats, continuing to fuck his cum into you as he waits for your response. 

“I-I love you too.” You gasp out, your nails digging even deeper into his skin, begging him to give you a break, the overstimulation ruthlessly gripping your own flesh. “I love you. Please.” 

He finally slows down. It takes him a minute to completely stop, and you can see that he didn’t really want to but he does iit for you. “Did you miss me?” He asks, doubt and insecurity plaguing his swollen features, silently asking you to put his troubled soul at ease. He may be a cruel and calculating being sent back to punish you for your sins, but underneath it all he’s still your lovesick boy, your prince whose soul yearns for yours, and it would be the cruelest thing of all to deny him that one thing that keeps him from perishing.  

You nod, reaching out weakly to play with his hair, your muscles cut down by fatigue then completely turned to mush by pleasure. “Yes, I did. I missed you even when I didn’t know who I was missing.” 

He smiles gently at that, letting out a small breath of relief that conveys all his vulnerability before bending down to give you a sweet peck on the lips. “I’m right here. I promise to keep reminding you..” 

You don’t know if he’s promising this to himself or to you, but it leads your mind to troubling questions. 

“Are they going to let us stay together?” You frown, suddenly apprehensive at the thought of those cruel gods he’d spoken of. Now that you have him–now that you know exactly what you’ve been missing, it petrifies you to have him ripped away from you again so soon. If you must be damned to be with him, then let you be with him, damn it!

“For this lifetime, maybe.” He answers hoarsely, uncertainly. “Every time you choose me, we're doomed further. They're just letting us rack up the debt.” 

“Choose? Do I ever have a choice?” Your question is innocent, your mind too scrambled to come up with an intentional attack, yet Beomgyu still perceives it as such. 

“Of course you do. You always do. If you reject me enough times, you condemn me to a hell like no other, to being cut away from you forever.” He answers defensively, needing you to know that you’re not blameless in any of this, and you know you’re not because your heart spasms painfully at the thought of being forever severed from him the same way an artery spasms around itself to keep from bleeding out. “If I force you then it's the same. You have to choose me yourself. That's the only way we can be together.”

A sick feeling of realization hits you. You suddenly get it–why he let himself get beat up by Taehyun. He had to wait for you to choose him. If he had just killed Taehyun and took you away, it would’ve tallied up against him. He had to let you doom yourself. Even if all you’ve done to earn damnation is to hesitate when Taehyun asked you to run away. Even if you did it to save Taehyun, it didn’t matter. You choosing him will always be your sin.

He's right. These gods really are wicked and unjust.  

“Do I choose you every time?” You ask in a small, shaky voice and he frowns, your question prompting what must be disturbing memories to spring to his mind. “Not always but most of the time.”

“What happens when I don't? Do you let me?” You hold your breath, anticipating his response. Does he let you be? Does he force you? Does he hurt you? Is every time you choose him similar to this time and your first life? Could you be pardoned by pleading that you’ve been forced into it or is the sheer amount of times you chose him enough to prove your wickedness beyond a shadow of doubt?

“Why are you asking about that now? You chose me in this lifetime. The rest doesn’t matter.” He brushes you off, goosebumps prickling your skin at his diversion. In his nonanswer lies the truth. No, he doesn’t let you. He doesn’t accept defeat. He never did and never will. 

“Doesn’t that bother you, what they’re doing to us? Forcing us into this cycle over and over again?” You push tentatively. “Don't you want to be free?” 

If you stop choosing each other, will you break this infernal cycle? 

“From you? Never.” He tells you with all the certainty and conviction a man can hold, forehead pressed against yours, your breaths intermingling as if your souls are greeting each other. “Darling, if they give me the choice between heaven and you, I would choose you every time. My existence is meaningless without you, salvation is nothing to me if I can't be with you. I would go through this hell again and again just to spend these precious few moments with you. Let me suffer alone for lifetimes if it means I get even one day like this to feel your love once more.”

Your heart swells, different emotions warring inside of it–eternal love for him, happiness that he is so devoted to you that even death can’t keep you apart, anger that he won’t grant you salvation, hate for everything he’s put you through, horror that you will never escape, soul deep fatigue at the weight of it all–but you can’t even begin to untangle them from each other because he doesn’t let you. This is your reunion and he won’t let it be ruined by your doubts. 

Instead, he flips you over, pushing you onto your tummy and pulling your ass up, the sound of him jerking his drenched cock to hardness the only thing you can hear over the ringing in your ears before you feel it breaching your pussy to fill you up again. He lays himself over you, his hips immediately go to work fucking you, making use of every moment he has stolen with you. 

“Gyu…” You whine, mind too fried to care much about the way you’re drooling over the expensive sheets. “Too fast.” 

“I’m sorry, princess. Just wanna make up for all the lost time. I promise I’ll be gentler later, will take care of you so well.” He babbles, the strain of the pleasure he’s getting from your tight walls evident in his voice. “Promise. Just be good for me tonight. Okay?”

You get it–his desperation, his insatiability. This is one of the only few times in his long, lonely existence when he gets to be with you and have you fully in this way–his princess brought back from the unfathomable and untraversable void of death and lost memories for him. And you can’t find it in you to deprive him of you right now. You’ll think about it later. You’ll worry about what this means for your soul’s eternal damnation tomorrow, but for tonight, you’ll let him have you. You’ll let your rotten souls rejoice in the company of their other half. 

“Okay.” You mumble dumbly, letting him take you like a bitch as tears of overstimulation line your lashes and your fingers clutch tightly onto the sheets. You can’t even pretend that it doesn’t feel good, every thrust of his hips, every touch of his hands, every filthy word he says, every load he release inside you–it all shifts and molds you into the wretched lover he’s been searching for, the walls you’ve built up to contain her getting torn down with every position he takes you in until you lay limp with no fight left in you and it’s revealed that there is no one behind those walls. There never was. She was always you. 

When he’s finally has his fill, and you’re more dirty and ruined than you ever were before the bath, he lays down next to you and takes you in his arms–his tight embrace suffocating and hot after what he just put your body through but he doesn’t care. You don’t care. You’re with each other, and that’s how your story always ends and begins. You've been here many times before and you'll be here for many more to come. 

You are at the edge of sleep, almost falling over, when you hear a small sniffle and feel him shake ever so slightly under you. You look up to see his teary eyes and you lift your hand to his face to brush those very costly droplets away. “Why are you crying, baby?”

“I'm just so happy. I missed you so much.” He whimpers, his hold on your getting even tighter. “I love you.”

You know. You couldn’t have understood it so fully before but now that you know a fraction of what he went through to get here, you know that his love is not a mere mortal love. It has defied fate itself and it will live on for eons to come. As long as you're on this earth, he'll stay here to find you, and when you leave, he'll follow you wherever you go, be it heaven or hell or the unfathomable unknown. As long as you're together, his wretched and weary soul can find its peace. 

“I missed you too. And I love you.” 

And I'm sorry it has come to this. I'm sorry I let our once precious love grow so gruesome and hideous that this twisted ending is our only version of happiness. 

_______________________________

A/N: aaaand that's the end of this portion of the story. let me know what you think of this ending. less death than usual lol.

would you rather get tyun's ending (mostly tyun focused) or continue the story from where this chapter leaves off (mostly gyu focused)? Or would you rather a new unrelated story entirely?

Here are some teasers for the two ideas

Tyun's ending:

“Where do we go from here?” You ask defeatedly and he narrows his eyes at you.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you’re clearly angry at me. You don't trust me.” 

“Yeah, and?”

You frown too. How can he not see where the problem lies? “How are we going to stay together like this?”

“Are you thinking of leaving again?” Now he starts getting angry, vindictive, the wrath of the warlord in him cutting through the centuries. 

“No–”

“Because I won't let you. All your bullshit excuses are gone. there is no war. You can't pretend you're going back for the greater good.” His voice is mocking on the last part, and you feel your face heat up.

“It was not an excuse!" You sputter. You can't believe he's saying this to you. "It was real!” 

“You’re my wife. That's what's real and you should've stayed loyal.” He tells you unkindly, not interested in your explanations.

“So you want me to stay just out of principle even if you're just going to hate every second of being together?” It would be funny to see the way he has completely not changed even in this new life if it wasn't so painful.

“Maybe. But I certainly won't be made a fool of again and maybe it's high time you experience some consequences for your actions.”

Gyu's ending continuation:

“How could you do this? How could you be so stupid?” Beomgyu's response to you slipping out for the day seems like a wild overreaction. You know he insists on controlling every aspect of your life so you won't leave him again but going out to walk through the surrounding small village for a few hours could hardly have many consequences. Not when he apparently controls the whole village. 

“You’re overreacting.” You roll your eyes at him but that just makes him freak out more. 

“You don't know what you're risking. He could have found you! He could have taken you away from me!” 

“What are you talking about?” You push him off you. “How would he do that when you know exactly where he is at all times?”

You scoff at him but the scared look on his face makes you falter. “You've lost him, didn't you?”

He doesn't answer you, and you watch his face grow paler. “What is he going to do? You’re immortal.” 

“But I am not all powerful, and there are beings out there more wicked than me.” He tells you fearfully, reaching out to hold you once more. 

Unrelated fic idea:

“Fuck, this feels amazing.” He groans and turns to you, “Can I use him every day?” He asks you cheekily and you grin as you hump against Beomgyu harder. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. Look at him, he’s soaking my hand with precum.” 

You hear Beomgyu garbled moans around Soobin’s cock and you question him. “What’s wrong, baby? Is Binnie using his big cock right this time?” 

Beomgyu whines again and you laugh at him, but Soobin doesn’t find it so funny, not with his cock getting the full brunt of all of Beomgyu’s vocalizations. “Oh god, I’m close. Can I cum on his face?” 

You grin widely. “Of course, Binnie. I’m sure Gyu wants to help out his hyung any way he can. He’s so needy he’ll let you cover his pretty in cum because he knows that will earn him a reward. Isn’t that right, baby?”

Also you can send and ask for any of the characters and I’ll answer as the character

[cherllyio]

Mei is connected to Chaos - Theory (Spoilers)

This theory started out after I did an analysis of chaos powers and how they work, more specifically with our two known chaos-powers-holders: Macaque and Xiangliu.

Here I realized that their chaos powers share two very important traits, that are also found in the Samadhi Fire:

The powers have a connection to the persons state of mind (meaning if they are unstable, the powers will also be unstable)

Just look at how, after Xiangliu lost connection to chaos, he went insane.

And then there is also the theory that the reason Macaque died was actually because his shadow powers took over him, as we see here (Just look at how they latch on to his body!):

He even laughed like a maniac while Wukong and Macaque were fighting! (as we heard in season 5)

2. They also have a general black core in the middle, no matter if its just general chaos powers, or shadow powers, which core seems to be chaos.

And this also goes for the Samadhi fire!

1. The Samadhi fire is incredibly unstable, and if Mei wasn’t in the right state of mind, she would have destroyed the world.

Princess Iron Fan describing the Samadhi Fire: “But over time it became… unstable.”

2.The Samadhi fire does indeed have a very strong black core, even after Mei has taken control of it!

Not only that: Try to take look at how it looks, when the Samadhi Fire was about to explode vs when Macaque used the stronger parts of his shadow/chaos powers:

AND how Mei, Xiangliu, and Macaque also has a sort “lightning” connected to their powers:

Mei: “This ol zippi zappy lightning thing? I’ve always kind of- “

Red Son: “You haven’t lost your connection. That’s the Samadhi Fire!”

And if The Samadhi Fire is connected to chaos, it would actually also explain why Red Son even had the Samadhi Fire!

Because it’s not treated as a part of Red Son’s "normal powers". Instead, the Samadhi Fire is explained as a completely different thing. Seeing as they could remove that part of his powers, without removing the rest.

DBK: We had no option but to… remove this power:

And while it may sound strange at first, that someone would give a demon baby, chaos powers (as they did with Macaque in the “deal”), it does actually make sense.

As whoever that “he” is, that Xiangliu mentioned, seems to want the universe to be destroyed. And what was it, that was so dangerous about the Samadhi fire again?

Red son:” The Samadhi fire is more than just an inextinguishable flame. It’s an interdimensional weapon with a destructive power to burn through the very fabric of reality!”

And not only would it destroy the fabric of reality, but it would also destroy the cycle! (it is “interdimensional” after all)

Which would also explain why LBD was so interested in first MK and Wukong (someone who has a very close connection with the cycle) and then the Samadhi fire! (Something that could destroy the cycle)

She likely knew about the cycle, which would make her motivation for “destroying” it, make even more sense.

So, if anything, giving Red Son (especially as a baby) chaos powers, would actually be a really clever, and quick way, to destroy the cycle, leaving only the primordial chaos left:

(notice the lightning again!)

And this is not just speculating! As we saw in season 5, they kept bringing the Samadhi Fire up, meaning it’s still important.

More specifically with this little guy, who is not only a “failed replica of the Samadhi Fire”, but also has an incredibly important place in Chinese Mythology!

More specifically I believe him to be “a failed replica” of Taouwu, who is explained as: “a creature with a human face, tiger’s feet, pig’s teeth, a long tail, and flowing hair.”

And what do you know? That fits our little creature exactly!

Meaning that the one who gave Red Son thoughs powers was Taouwu, and now (when Red Son tried to make a replica of it), it represents itself as Taouwu!

And Taowu is actually also known to be part of a group called “The Four Evils”, that are known to be the most malevolent beings in the Chinese mythology!

They are even sometimes explained as being the antagonist counterparts of the Four Guardians! Meaning that if the Guardians symbolize “order”, these guys symbolize “chaos”. (Which is definitely important!)

Which could hint at, that either one of these guys are the “he” who is winning or is connected to him in some way! (Hundun, as seen in the picture, legit represents “chaos”)

And that’s not even getting into the theory, that the Four Evils have a high chance of being the ones, or one of them at least, who made a deal with Macaque! Though- that will take some time to explain, so I will just link that theory here.

But more importantly the Taowu, in itself, symbolizes stubbornness and arrogance.

And here we have Red Son (someone who is very arrogant) and Mei (someone who is very stubborn), who has thoughs powers, meaning that they would also be the perfect fit for these powers!

Quick examples:

Red Son: “Get off me you peasants!”

Red son: “You (Mei) and the newdle boy will stop at nothing to defeat her (LBD), that’s how I know you won’t lose.”

Conclusion

The Samadhi Fire is, in its core, a destructive and unstable power, aka: a chaos power.

Which also includes a lot of similarities back to normal chaos powers (like we see with Xiangliu and Macaque) With examples like being unstable, a black core, and lightning.

Meaning that Red Son didn’t “create” the Samadhi Fire, and instead was likely given it by one of the Four Evil’s, more specifically Taouwu.

And since Red Son already had fire powers, and was a demon baby, no one would suspect anything, and Red Son wouldn't remember getting them.

But what do you guys think? :)

[ornii]

Tara Carpenter x Male Reader?

Funny enough, I was never a big Horror Fan so the Scream series went under my radar. Conveniently enough I decided to watch the latest one and I gotta say not too bad.

Trust

Takes years to form, can be broken in one moment.

After a short but memorable service in the Army, you were able to take an honorable discharge after barely a year, after searching a Home you saved your squad from a makeshift IED. It Left a few scars, but that was the last of the physical damage, mental damage can never truly be measured and heal fully, but you’re managing. Hearing the Murders of Woodsboro, and Tara surviving thankfully.

You and Tara had been friends since moving to Woodsboro years ago, just kids at the time but there was something really different about her, you couldn’t put your finger on it but she always lit up the room, and specifically took your breath away. Leaving for Basic Training, you never got a chance to admit it, but you knew once you returned it was the first thing to do on your bucket list.

So when you were discharged, Blackmore University was a nobrainer to attend. But it was only downhill after that, the Killings return, and it seemed to return just as you did.

It was all too much of a coincidence for anyone else to ignore. So they did the only sensible thing.

You were standing in the middle of the apartment, unsure of what to do. You were essentially surrounded by Tara, Sam, Chad, and Ethan. “I don’t understand..” you said, your eyes tracing along the eyes staring at you. “You think.. it’s me?” You ask. And Chad stepped up first.

“We heard what happened at Woodsboro, it just, takes someone pretty skilled to do that stuff..” he said, Chad had an attitude that he didn’t want to believe it, but a capable man with a knife is pretty tough. You looked over to everyone else, Quinn seems indifferent, Sam was reluctant to speak and Tara couldn’t look you in the eye.

“Tara, Tara look at me…” you pleaded, Teary eyed she slowly looks up to meet your gaze.

“You really think I could do this? I came back here for you, why would I…” you slowly trail off, silent as you truly were at a loss.

“I don’t want to believe it..” she said, “but.. it just all looks bad..” She admits, and that truly broke your heart, the one person you wanted to believe you, before you could say anything, Ethan walks over putting his arm around Tara to try to soothe her. Ethan always had a slimy attitude, and you never really felt, safe around him. But seeing him do that to Tara made your skin crawl. Something about this, about all of this, was way off.

“(Y/n), Quinn’s dead, we have to stop this before more people die; if it isn’t you then the police are gonna release you.” Sam explains, and they wheel an office chair with arms over for you to sit. Seeing how distressed Tara was, you very reluctantly sat down on it, and allowed them to bind your arms to the chair. Tapping your foot restlessly, you eyed Ethan. “Feel safer now?” You said obviously with sarcasm, and Ethan give this look. Of disappointment.

“Look I know service does a lot to the brain.” He started, and you realized just what he’s about to do.

“No you fucking don’t..” you cut him off sternly and harshly, knowing his plan to blame your PTSD and use it to label someone as unstable. Ethan gives you another look, as if he’s hiding a smile.

“Let’s give him some fresh air at least, would be better for him.” Ethan walks over and calmly pushes you to the balcony, “it’s for your own good.” He mutters a bit abruptly, and walks back to the others, you can’t hear what they’re saying but Tara eyes you a few times. You wanted to plead and beg for her to listen to you, but it would have been for nothing, she’s already convinced it was you. Your train of thought was cut off by footsteps around you, mostly above, you hear them and look up to see someone heading down, it was too dark to make out who it was, but once you saw the flash of steel with their knife you instantly knew.

“Guys! Guys!” You shook and kicked to get their attention, they all looked over as you fought to break free. You screamed for help, It was too late, heading down the fire escape, Ghostface made their appearance, grabbing your legs they lifted you up and over the balcony, you felt the instant dizzying sensation of being tossed and your head slammed hard against the lower balcony rail, it all went dark after that but you tumbled against more rails and slammed on a hard sheet metal roof and slid off onto the ground.

Somehow, you still lived. Opening your eyes slowly you see the hard New York ground and the wheels of a dumpster, using what strength you had you were able to stand up, seems the chair broke most of your fall, but still causing cuts and bruises and probably a cracked rib or two. Using the dumpster you prop yourself up and reach into your pocket with your bloody hands to your cracked IPhone, it was near impossible to make any calls, but one app did catch your eye. Find my IPhone. Tapping on Tara’s name you spot her location, a old theatre. Tearing off the tape on your wrists you look around for anything to defend yourself, all you see is a sharp end of plastic from the fallen chair. Snatching it you make you plan.

You stand up, feeling a hot burning pain in your leg, specifically your ankle which probably has a torn ligament or shattered bone. You push the pain down and limp your way to the theatre. Pushing the door open with your bloody palms you limped in, to a sight you least expected. You watched Ethan terrorize Tara, who looks ready to fall off a ledge, Sam barely holding on as Quinn, who never was dead approaches, and Detective Bailey, aiming a gun at them all. It was all a ploy to kill you and lessen the numbers. Ethan’s words “for your own good” kept running in your head, he set you up to get killed. All that military training began to pay off, you crouched with a bad limp and had to crawl to avoid making too much noise, you crept up behind Bailey and didn’t hesitate. You took the sharp plastic and rammed it into the side of his neck with force. Using his other hand he tries to hold his neck to keep the blood loss. You reached and gripped his hand hard, forcing him to Aim at Quinn and crushing his tigger finger. A bullet flies and almost hits Quinn, Sam looks up to see you and you continue to force him to pull the trigger until one bullet gets lodged right in the head of Quinn. She drops dead and so does Bailey. You stood there, silent as Ethan turns to see you. You didn’t care why he did it, you didn’t care to even ask.

“Get Tara up.” You gave Sam her order and she took the change to yank her sister up while you handled Eathan. He danced the knife around his hands, waiting for you make a move but you knew better. You kept calm and locked in. Ethan thrashed at you to land a hit but you kept calm, keeping your distance and avoiding close cuts. You watch in go for a stab, you open your arm, he goes past it and you lock his arm under yours, with one swift jerk up you snapped his arm, you cocked back and began to hammer his face in, punch after punch. Ethan stumbles around and with one judo throw you slammed him into a table, exhausted from the ass beating you promptly put on him, he lies there, laughing.

“You don’t deserve her, I always wanted to stick something in her… and she picks you, a fuckin freak who cries when fireworks go off..” Ethan spoke with venom though his bloody teeth. You looked at him, disgusted.

“Cry me a river.. and fuckin drown in it.” You grabbed him, dragged his head to the edge of the table and lifted up your arm and slammed your elbow right into his eyesocket, his neck snaps back with a crunch, as he lays there, dead. (Y/n) slumps down, exhausted. After dispatching three serial killers like John Wick he finally breathes as the nightmare is over.

The FBI and Police arrive, taking statements and doing some investigating and body clean up. You were getting the cuts and bruises patched up, and the ankle looked at.

“Hairline fracture. Gonna need some time for it to heal but you’ll be walking again.” The EMT gave a warm smile to you and went to tend to Sam. You leaned your head back to finally rest, you felt a presence approach, he could immediately tell it was Tara.

“…What do you want?” You said, you tilt your heard back forward and look at her. She looked good, even if she was getting murdered half an hour ago, still so.. beautiful. “Can We.. can we talk?” She said, almost in a whisper. You scoot over the ambulance seat to let her sit down.

“I’m… so sorry I didn’t believe you. And you almost got killed for it..” she bit her bottom lip to keep from crying, as angry as you were, she got baited into it, you put your arm around her.

“I wish you trusted me but I understand why you didn’t, let’s just, relax first.” You felt her lean into your arm, content with how things are finally.

“Yeah.” She closes her eyes to take in the moment, and you finally let this nightmare end.

[myersgirlxxx]

Shadows of the occult 0.2 Shadows Stirring

Part 01 Wednesday x fem reader

summary: In the shadowy halls of Nevermore Academy, you navigate the delicate balance between reality and the Other Side. As an occultist with a powerful yet unstable connection to the elements, you learn that the Other Side does not come easily. it demands secrets and sacrifices. Caught in the gaze of the enigmatic Wednesday Addams, you must confront the darkness within before it consumes you.

Warnings: Dark themes, mental health, supernatural elements, intense relationships and mature content.

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

Nevermore had a way of feeling suffocating at night.

Not because of the towering trees that loomed just outside the windows or the eerie silence that blanketed the school’s ancient corridors. No, for you, it was something else. The nights were when the Other Side pressed hardest, when the elements whispered most clearly, clawing at the edge of your thoughts.

You were used to it by now—the pull, the weight of being more there than here. It was part of you, part of what you’d become. But tonight, something felt different. There was a restlessness in the air, a gnawing in your chest that wouldn’t let you sleep. The element of Blood hummed, tugging at your senses, trying to pull you deeper into that other realm.

But you couldn’t afford to lose control. Not here.

Not when eyes like Wednesday Addams’ were watching you.

You sat up in bed, your breathing steady but tense, trying to shake the feeling when a soft knock sounded at your door. Unusual for this hour. No one ever came to your room, especially not when the moon hung so low in the sky.

Your fingers brushed against the cold surface of the door before you opened it, revealing exactly who you least expected.

Wednesday.

She stood there in the dim light of the hallway, her expression unreadable, dark eyes gleaming with the kind of detachment you had grown to expect from her. No one else would disturb you at this hour, but Wednesday was different. She didn’t follow anyone else’s rules—not even the unspoken ones.

You leaned against the doorframe, trying to mask the unease creeping up your spine. You could feel Blood pulling, stirring with her presence. Too close. Too soon.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Addams?” you asked, leaning casually against the doorframe, your voice dropping to a lazy, teasing tone.

Wednesday’s eyes flicked over you, as if she were calculating something, but her face remained impassive.

“You’re awake,” she said, her voice clipped, not bothering with pleasantries.

You chuckled softly, tilting your head as you studied her. It was always fascinating to watch someone so controlled, so distant, yet always watching, always calculating.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you replied smoothly, “but if I’d known you’d be stopping by, I would’ve stayed up earlier.”

Her gaze lingered on your face, unblinking, not rising to your bait. She wasn’t one for playful banter, but you had never expected her to be. That didn’t mean you’d stop trying.

You crossed your arms, feigning nonchalance, though you could feel the weight of her stare. The elements whispered at the edge of your mind, tugging at you, but you kept them at bay. Wednesday Addams had a way of making people feel exposed without ever lifting a finger.

You were curious, though—why had she come?

“You always keep tabs on your classmates this late, or am I special?” you asked, a teasing smile playing at the corner of your lips.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she didn’t take the bait.

“There’s something... off about you,” she said finally, her voice low but pointed. “And I don’t trust things I can’t explain.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you kept your face neutral. That was dangerously close to the truth. The pull of the Other Side, the elements swirling just beneath the surface, was something no one at Nevermore could know about. Not yet. Not even Wednesday.

But that didn’t mean you had to show your hand just yet. You leaned in slightly, lowering your voice.

“If you wanted to get to know me better, all you had to do was ask,” you murmured, your lips quirking into a sly grin.

For a second, her expression faltered—just a flicker of something like annoyance—but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. Wednesday Addams didn’t rise to the challenge, not in the way most people would. But you could see the way her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, as if she was assessing your every word, every movement.

She stepped back from the door, turning as if to leave, but her voice cut through the silence before she did.

“Be careful who you flirt with,” she said quietly, her tone colder than the night air outside. “Not everyone plays the same game.”

Her words hung in the air, and for a moment, you felt the sting of the truth behind them. But you weren’t one to be intimidated easily. If anything, her cryptic nature only intrigued you more.

“Who said I was playing?” you called after her, keeping your voice light, though your pulse was still racing.

She gave you one last look, her expression unreadable as always. And then, without another word, she turned and walked away, disappearing into the shadows of the hall.

You exhaled slowly, the tension in your body still coiled tight as you closed the door.

The pull of the elements hadn’t faded. If anything, it was stronger now, more insistent. You could feel them clawing at the edges of your reality, trying to break free, to take hold. Blood, Knowledge, Death—they were all there, whispering, waiting.

You leaned your head back against the door, eyes closed, and took a breath, trying to center yourself, but the hum in your veins grew louder. The elements were restless, tugging harder at your control.

And as much as you tried to suppress it, you knew Wednesday was right.

Secrets didn’t stay hidden forever.

The question wasn’t if they would come to light—but when.

And who would be watching when they did.

Part 3?

[amethystwrytes]

Safe. (Part Six)

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin X Fem. Reader X Lee Minho

Summary: A broke ER Nurse offers up her services to a large crime organization in exchange for much higher pay and benefits that are unconventional, but lucrative. The life proves to be questionable at best, and downright isolating at worst which leaves her feeling unsure, unstable and dangerous. 

Warnings: Explicit language. Explicit depictions of sex (some chapters will be more explicit than others sexually). Violence. Blood. Trauma injuries. (Organized) Crime. Emotional manipulation. Discussion of murder and physical assault. Medical inaccuracy galore. Smoking. Past addiction. Legal inaccuracies. 18+ Only MDNI

Chapter WC: 8k

AN: If I were to debate any more over this I just wouldn’t ever post it so F it, it’s out there and now I can’t take it back haha

~ PART SIX ~ (Series M. List Here)

“Is something bothering you lately?”

It’s seven in the morning and you’re tangled up with Minho in bed. After days of being apart, you were relieved to have him next to you. Though Hyunjin was more than able to keep you company (on nearly every surface in the house, no less). But now, Hyunjin is working, or rather has been working. Doing weapons and ammunition deliveries and collection always ends up being a graveyard shift activity, the dark of night used as a cloak to do bad things with bad men. Though you don’t quite understand why they think it’s beneficial, police work at night too, and you often think that doing these weapons deals would be more effective mid-afternoon in the plain of day where no one would expect an arms deal to be taking place, but what do you know? 

“What do you mean?” Minho asks, setting his phone down on the side table and rolling over into you. 

“You’ve been so restless lately, I barely see you sleep, it’s been quiet I thought, since all that happened with Taehyung. Are you uncomfortable sleeping here? We could stay in your apartment,” you suggest, holding his head into your chest, sleepily stroking his hair. 

“My apartment is in the city, loud and lit up 24/7. It’s barely big enough for me, stuffed with boxes and boxes of shit I don’t need, and I can count on my fingers how many times I’ve actually slept there and not just at my office. It’s much better here with you,” he explains. 

“Then why so restless and fidgety?” you wonder. 

“It’s like you said baby, it’s been quiet since the Casino fiasco with Kim, in fact it’s been too quiet. We murdered one of the men who attacked you and I expected that to ignite a whole blood bath, and yet nothing, nothing has happened,” he says, his hand sliding under your nightdress and fanning out over your tummy, tracing gentle circles all over. 

You suppose he’s right. If you had one of those “There’s Been [this many] Days Without an Incident” signs, you could put double digits in the number slots. You haven’t even had to nurse anyone back to health lately. Jisung tripped a few weeks ago walking down the stairs outside his apartment and rolled his ankle. Seungmin got into a bar fight over a girl he’d just met - you cleaned up his face but he didn’t even need stitches. Other than that it had been unusually quiet in your house. 

“Maybe nothing will happen, maybe Kim doesn’t care that you killed the guy,” you say, though even you have to admit it makes zero sense. 

“Mmm,” Minho shakes his head across your chest, “That’s not how it works Love, not by a longshot.” 

“What can you do?” you wonder. 

He braces himself over you with one of his arms and kisses your lips, “All I can do is wait for his next move. If I send my guys after him then all I’m doing is risking their lives for something I’m not even sure of, so I wait, and waiting is sometimes excruciating,” his fingers slide up to one of your breasts and play at your nipple, stiffening the bud of nerves and sending signals between your legs, your lips part and a relaxed breath escapes, “In the meantime, I quite enjoy killing time with you,” he grins. 

He moves on top of you, slotting himself between your legs, you feel his clothed erection press against your cunt as he ruts against you, his mouth exploring your neck, jawline, and lips. 

“Flip,” he growls, his hands heavy and pressing against your hips. You flip onto your stomach, lifting your ass off the bed, pressing yourself against his aching length, you know exactly what he wants. You hear him shuffling, shoving his sleep shorts down and your night dress up your back. You feel him line himself up with you, dragging the head of his cock through your slick. 

You brace yourself, digging your fingers around the thick comforter as he slams into you. You let out a gasp at the sudden roughness, but just as quickly your gasps turn to heady moans, wordlessly pleading for more, for harder thrusts. Minho gives them to you, his fingers impossibly tight around your hips, pushing and pulling himself in and out. 

“Minho…” you say his name, barely a whisper but also a warning. Your fingers move between your legs, rubbing yourself in soft circles so your orgasm explodes around him. He slows his thrusts, allowing your spasming cunt to milk his own high. 

He finally collapses back down on the bed next to you, chest rising and falling heavily as his breath returns to normal. 

“Can I ask a favor?” you open one eye and stare at him. 

“Anything.” 

“I want to learn how to shoot,” you say and he looks at you with a raised brow, “a gun, that is.” 

“Well yes,” he chuckles, “I didn’t think you meant a bow and arrow. I’m just a little surprised I suppose, but I think that’s a good idea,” he nods. 

“Something small, nothing that will knock me off my feet or send me reeling back,” you continue. 

“Mm,” he thinks, “I’ve got a .22 at the office that would be perfect for you. I have a meeting with Hyunjin and Felix this morning, to see how the evening collections went. I’ll send Hyunjin over with the gun after, once he gets some rest he can take you to the range, maybe tomorrow, that sound good?” 

“Mmhmm,” you yawn, your morning excursions leaving you sleepy again. 

“Go back to sleep baby,” he leans over and kisses you, “I’m going to get dressed, Changbin will be here until Hyunjin arrives later, okay?” 

“Okay,” you whisper, you feel him shift and scoot to the edge of the bed. Maybe it’s because you’re still half asleep, maybe it’s because he fucked you so good, but without really thinking you call to him, “Minho?” 

“Hm?” 

“I love you.” 

It doesn’t surprise nor bother you that he stays quiet as he rises out of the bed and makes his way to the bathroom, you don’t really care if he feels the same or not, don’t really care that he doesn’t seem to want to comment on your confession. At the moment you just sink back into the mattress, letting the warmth of the blankets overtake you and drift off again. 

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

“Alright Doll,” Hyunjin stands behind you at the gun range, Changbin and Seungmin have tagged along, evidently this is one of their favorite pastimes. “What you want to do above anything else is relax.” 

You snort, “You hear how absurd that sounds, right? Nothing says relaxation quite like being in a situation where I need a loud, dangerous gun.” 

“I meant you need to relax during practice,” he smirks, “If you relax while you’re practicing and get used to hitting your target, it won’t matter what kind of situation you’re in when you need it. You’ll be used to it.” 

“Okay, okay,” you grab the gun and aim at the target, closing one eye and trying to line the barrel up with the big black circle on your target dummy. 

“Why are you closing one eye?” Changbin asks, the three men looking at you puzzled. 

“I…don’t know? That’s how they do it in movies?” you say sheepishly. 

“If you close one eye you’re only going to see half as well, that’s dumb,” Seungmin says. 

“Fine, okay, both eyes open, got it,” you look forward again, your eyes trying to line up the little nub thingie with the target. 

“You’re relying too much on the front sight,” Hyunjin chuckles, “Your eyes look crossed.” 

Changbin and Seungmin giggle and you huff in frustration. 

“You know what I think would be helpful? If I actually got to shoot the damned thing. Let’s start there and then you can give me your critiques, okay?” 

Without giving them an opportunity to answer, you look back, close one eye, try to line the sight up with your target and pull the trigger…and you can’t even see where your bullet went. 

“Alright, so let’s start with number one: you weren’t relaxed whatsoever. Number two: you closed your eye again, and number three: you weren’t even focusing on the target, you were too busy relying on your sight, which is useless if you’re not looking at the target.” 

“Try again,” Changbin smiles enthusiastically. 

Seungmin cocks his gun and points it at the target then unloads several rounds, you look at the end of the range and see he’s hit the dummy multiple times in the head and center of the chest. All fatal wounds. He looks at you smugly and winks. 

You take a deep breath and turn your body towards the target again, picking up your gun and aiming. This time you take a deep breath, you keep both eyes open and pull the trigger. And again, your bullet has flown off into God knows what dimension. 

You look at Hyunjin in frustration and he cackles. 

“Sweetheart you’ve only shot it twice, don’t look so sour. That stance was much better by the way,” he stands behind you again, his hand gently bringing your arm back up to aim at the target. “Keep your other hand under the grip, to keep it steady, okay?” his lips are a little too close to your ear, and you feel his warm breath against your neck. 

“Okay…” you whisper back. Suddenly aware of the warmth. You side eye Changbin and Seungmin, who seem to be having a totally separate conversation as they clean their other guns. 

“Just like sports, you want your body to be facing the target at first, it takes a lot of practice and skill to be able to hit something that you’re not facing head on,” he puts his hands on your hips and lines it up with the target down the range. 

“Now, take a deep breath…just like that…and look at what you want to hit,” he says. You nod and stare at the big black circle in the center of the dummies chest. “Pull the trigger slow and steady while you exhale.” 

You do as he says, you repeat the steps a couple times actually, then finally pull the trigger slowly. 

You don’t hit the circle, but you can see the bullet hole has hit the lower right hip area of the dummy. You’re on the board, so to speak. 

“Look at that,” he whispers in your ear, his hand giving your hip a seductive squeeze, “that’ll do some damn good damage. Good job baby.” 

“Thanks,” you breathe, staring at his lips, “I need to go to the restroom, excuse me,” you say, your hidden fingers dancing across the zipper of Hyunjins pants. He bites his lip and looks down at you wantingly. 

You set the weapon down and dust your hands off on the side of your jeans, then walk out of the shooting range, down the narrow corridor to the rest rooms. You stand in front of the sink, looking at yourself in the mirror, wondering if Hyunjin picked up on your very telepathic message. You’ve got no Earthly idea where this horniness came from, if maybe shooting a weapon is evidently a turn on for you, or if it was the way he was so close, pressed against you, teaching you - either way, you need him, and you need him now. 

You wash your hands, straighten out your hair and just stare at yourself some more. You’re about to give up - it would probably be better to wait until you get home anyway - when the door to the bathroom swings open and Hyunjin barrels in, locking it behind himself. 

“Naughty little girl,” he growls before pressing his lips to yours, immediately pushing you against the sinks, lifting you up to set you on the questionable countertop. “Getting me fucking turned on,” he continues, his mouth trailing down your neck. 

“Fuck me, please,” you whisper. 

“Really?” he looks around, “Here?” 

“Yes,” you start undoing his pants. 

“Shit,” he moans when your hand wraps around his throbbing length. “Yeah, okay, okay, just…here sit on this,” he drags you off the counter and removes his shirt, spreading it over the surface. 

You shimmy out of your jeans and hop back up, pulling him back in and capturing his mouth with yours. 

“God you are dripping wet,” he groans, teasing you with his cock, “Feels so fucking good.” 

“Please,” you beg, your nails digging into his skin. 

He pushes into you and you both gasp. 

“Fuck!” you cry out and he chuckles against you. 

“Shhh, you’ll get us in trouble,” he whispers, his hands holding the sides of your thighs to keep you steady. 

“Feels so good,” you whimper, quietly, into his ear. 

“You’re killing me today…fuck…”

“Shit…like that…oh my god…”

“Hey,” Hyunjin grabs your chin and forces your gaze to his while he continues fucking into you deep and heavy, “I love you, so fucking much.” 

“I love you too,” you pant, “I love you too.” 

You wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips against his, your cries getting lost in his mouth while you cum for him. 

He frowns at his shirt as he shrugs it back on, “A shooting range bathroom is not as romantic as your book, but I hope I got the point across, and I meant it, by the way, I love you.” 

“It was authentically us, and I meant it too,” you squeeze his hand. 

“I do not accept this dingy ass bathroom is authentically us, I am an artist god dammit,” he teases and you laugh. 

A knock on the door startles both of you and you scrunch your nose as Seungmin hollers, “If you guys are done fucking can we go get some lunch? I’m starving!” 

“Everyone knows, don’t they?” you smile at Hyunjin. 

“Yeah, you’d think it would be a cone of silence but these mother fuckers are nothing but catty gossips…and I suck at keeping my feelings for you hidden,” he says. 

“Good.” 

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

Mornings that you get to spend with both Hyunjin and Minho are your favorite. They typically follow a steamy night of unimaginable pleasure, for one, but you also enjoy the peaceful safety you feel when you’re all sitting at the table drinking coffee and chit chatting. It’s comfortable, much more comfortable than you ever imagined it would be. You know that Minho is still struggling with it to some extent, struggling with the relationship. He never commented on your profession of love for him, never brought it up again. It’s confusing, since he never seems to have a problem when all three of you are piled in your bed, limbs tangled, lips everywhere. He’s more than happy then, and more than happy when you’re alone with him. He also doesn’t seem to mind the morning banter over coffee, even now as you watch him talk shop with Hyunjin, a pleasant expression on his face, it all seems fine. 

Yet there are these moments sprinkled into the mix where you can feel his hesitation, feel the withdraw. You don’t feel it with Hyunjin, he’s all in, all the time. Happy as a lark as he sits on the opposite side of the table, sketching something in his notebook, laughing about something that happened on a collection run with Jeongin. You’ve noticed his sketches include a lot more Minho lately, and the expression he draws on him isn’t as dark and dangerous as it once was. 

You decide that in this moment it doesn’t matter, eventually you will have to speak on it, eventually you will have to get Minho to dredge up his feelings. Not right now though. Right now you’re going to drink your coffee and laugh with them and watch Hyunjin draw, and hold Minhos hand under the table. Right now you’re going to enjoy this moment. 

Because unbeknownst to any of the people sitting at the table, the calm before the storm is about to be over. 

It starts with Minho’s phone ringing. He puts it on speaker so he can set the device down and still hold your hand and sip his coffee. 

“You’re on speaker,” he indicates to the caller. 

“Boss,” it’s Changbin, he’s breathless, and sounds as scared as he did the night Hyunjin was stabbed. “We’ve got a problem.” 

Minho lets go of your hand and Hyunjin sets his sketchbook on the table, a serious look on his face as his eyes meet Minhos. 

“How big of a problem?” 

“A really big fucking problem,” Changbin answers. 

Minho knits his eyes closed, “Did we lose anyone?” 

Your very breath leaves your lungs and you could hear a pin drop from two houses down. You try to remain calm as the faces of the men you’ve come to care about flash in your head. You have to force yourself to stop asking if you’ll have to say goodbye to one of them, to more than one…

“No, nobody’s dead,” Changbin pants into the speaker, and the three of you let go of the breaths you’ve been holding, “but Boss…they blew up the fucking warehouse. Jisung and I pulled up after we heard the explosion, Jisung ran in like a fucking idiot - I guess to be sure no one was in there - he burnt his hands and I have Chris driving him to ___ right now but he said it’s all gone, the guns, the ammunition, all of it,” Changbin explains. 

Hyunjins eyes widen, but Minhos expression distorts into such a dangerous anger that it petrifies you. It’s only when his fist comes down hard on the table that you move, running towards the stairs to get dressed and ready to treat whatever burns Jisung has. 

“That’s not all,” Changbin says and you pause.

“What else?” 

“I’m a safe distance away at the moment, but every fucking emergency vehicle in a 100 mile radius is there. Local, federal…every type of investigator you can think of or imagine is over there snooping around what’s left of the building.” 

“God Dammit!” Minho yells so loud it shakes the china in the cabinets. He picks up his coffee mug and throws it with brutal force across the room and it shatters against the wall, leaving a hole in its wake.  

“Get the fuck out of there and meet me here at the safehouse, if you smell like fire go shower first and destroy the clothes you’re wearing so no one can link you to the area. I’m calling my lawyer.” 

Minho disconnects the call and slams the phone down on the table. 

“FUCK.” 

You try to stop your body from shaking and continue upstairs to get dressed. 

There’s Been Zero Days Without an Incident. 

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

Minho’s lawyer is a sharp dressed man with thick black glasses named Kim Namjoon. You watch him sip his coffee, a fresh batch you made once you and Hyunjin cleaned up the broken mess from the cup Minho threw against the wall. 

Jisung sits in a chair in front of you as you apply some antibiotic cream to his burns. Nothing too damaging, but his palms will be tender for a week or so, you warn him. 

“As much as I love watching you enjoy your coffee, I’ve got a smoked warehouse and every investigator about to descend on my front door, so let’s just get to it Kim, how fucked am I?” Minho asks after the silence becomes too loud. “Am I looking at prison time?” 

Your hands freeze over Jisungs, “Ouch,” he hisses and you realize you’ve squeezed too hard and look at him apologetically. 

“Actually,” Namjoon sets his mug down, “the silver lining here is that whoever blew your shit up cleared you out of your illegalities. Meaning that as investigators comb through your warehouse, and trust me they are, they aren’t finding anything incriminating. Old slot machines and Casino junk, nothing that can’t be explained since you do in fact own a Casino. Kim Taehyung did you a favor without realizing by stealing the weapons.” 

“Well aren’t I the lucky one? I’ll have to send him a fucking fruit basket then,” Minho seethes. 

“Do whatever you need to do, but we can work with arson and keep the investigators out of your ass as long as the guns are gone, I know that fucks up your other business,” Namjoon raises his brow, “but you know I can’t help you with that.” 

“Yes, well, when I’m dead because I’ve got a target on my back - since six fucking organizations aren’t getting their ammunition and weapons from me on time - you’ll be down a shit ton of money without that cushy retainer I keep you with.” 

“Stop,” Jisung whines and you realize you’ve squeezed his hands again. 

“Sorry,” you hiss, and start bandaging his hands. 

You watch as Minho paces the sitting area, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“We’ve got to get those fucking guns back,” he growls. 

Namjoon interjects, “I can’t be a part of this conversation, but I’ll tell you this, the District Attorney wants your head on a silver platter. You may not officially be charged with anything Lee, but it’s no secret in this city that you’re more than just a Casino owner. So I suggest laying low until this arson investigation is over, they’re going to be on you 24/7, regardless of whether or not they find shit at the warehouse,” Namjoon warns. 

“Do we have anyone in that office?” Minho asks. 

Namjoon shrugs, a smug smile on his face, “Not officially, but I have it on good authority the DA himself gets his dick sucked by a sweet little twenty-something who teaches tennis at the country club he tells his wife he’s golfing at every weekend.” 

Minho chuckles, “Well, hold that dick sucking thing over his head like your life depends on it in exchange for not serving my head on a platter, if we’re lucky maybe Kim Taeyhyung hasn’t got to him first.” 

“Will do, but it does pose a risk, we could just piss him off and he’ll try to work you harder,” he explains. 

Minho shakes his head, “I don’t have anything to lose at this point,” he says, but you don’t miss the way his eyes flick over to you momentarily, “I can’t lay low when I’ve got three quarters of a million dollars in weapons missing.” You’re not sure if he’s explaining himself to Namjoon or you. 

“Alright then,” Namjoon stands and sees himself toward the door, “I’ll play a little dirty for the moment and keep you posted on the investigation. Good luck with that target-on-your-back shit.” 

“Thanks,” Minho deadpans and locks the door. 

Everyone from Christopher to Jeongin sits around the room waiting for Minhos instruction. You busy yourself by cleaning up first aid supplies in the background, totally unsure of where you should be or what you should be doing. Judging by how quiet the rest of them are, you definitely know you shouldn’t be talking. 

“We’ve got to steal those guns back,” Minho repeats himself. 

“It’s a suicide mission,” Hyunjin says with a sigh, folding his arms, “That’s exactly what he wants us to do and he’ll be waiting to take us out.” 

“Yeah? Well what about all the organizations who have already paid for their weapons and ammo this quarter? We might be able to talk some of them into waiting, but Min and Jung are ruthless sons of bitches who will kill us all for not delivering what we already collected on,” Seungmin argues. 

“Now hold up,” Changbin interjects, “We have never lagged on business with them, not even when-” Changbin stops and looks at Minho and you know, not even when Minho was mourning his wife, but he doesn’t say that, “Not even when we’ve been down on our luck. So why would they not be understanding this one time?” 

“Sorry, are you new here?” Seungmin laughs darkly, “You think sending them a ‘Thank you so much for your business, unfortunately we’ve hit a snag’ note is going to matter to them? Why don’t you spray it with your perfume before you send it by doves-”

“Enough!” Minho thunders and the arguing comes to an abrupt halt. “None of you are wrong, there are no options that don’t pose a risk, I don’t want to do this in a way that gets anyone killed.” 

“How much would it cost to just go back to the source, to Jiyong? Ask him for a new supply of weapons?” Hyunjin asks. 

“On such short notice?” Minho laughs, “Millions. Plus we’d be on our own smuggling them in, which I’m sure would make our friends at the DA’s office happy since they’ll be watching us so closely - all of us in prison for life? No amount of blackmail could stop the DA from bagging such a big break, especially over something like dick sucking, every politician in this city is getting their dick sucked by someone who shouldn’t be sucking it,” he sighs, “But even if we could find a way to do that, Jiyong is a loose fucking cannon as it is and I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him, the man is psychotic. He may fuck us over just to watch us go down, even if it means he’s out millions of dollars, he doesn’t give a shit,” Minho drags his hand down his face. 

“We have to steal them back from Taehyung,” Seungmin mutters from the corner. 

Hyunjin sucks his teeth, “If we do that, at least one of us will die doing it,” he says. 

“So we die stealing the guns back, or we die for not delivering the weapons, or we go to prison smuggling replacement weapons in,” Felix outlines, “Is that where we’re at?” 

“We vote then,” Minho stands, “We vote, because Felix is right, your lives are all on the line here, there’s not a single option we have that doesn’t end in potential death or prison. However, Jiyong isn’t an option, we just can’t trust him in a situation that’s already fucked to begin with. So, what’ll it be boys? Steal the guns back and take out as many of Taehyungs fuckers as we can, or plea for mercy from our clients and hope they’ll be gracious and not kill us where we stand?” 

“Steal them back,” Seungmin raises his hand, followed by Jeongin, Jisung, Felix, Christopher and reluctantly, Changbin. 

Minho looks sympathetically at Hyunjin who sighs, nods, then raises his hand, “Steal them back then, we don’t plead for a goddamn thing.” 

Minho smiles, “Then let’s go to work.” 

The small group disperses momentarily, probably so they can take a moment to digest the situation, something you’ve been trying to do all day to no avail. 

Minho walks over to you, “Well, I think we can agree that your term to be trusted has been met,” he laughs softly, but for whatever reason you find that his words have struck some deep emotional string and your eyes blur with hot tears. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he puts his hand on the small of your back and guides you towards the spare room you use for your medical supply storage. Hyunjin locks eyes with you and sees the tears, he shuffles over to join the two of you. 

“What’s going on?” he asks. 

“I’m trying to figure that out myself,” Minho replies, rubbing your shoulders. 

You don’t really know why you’re crying so hard, but at this point you’re audibly sobbing. 

“Babe?” Hyunjin tilts your face up. 

“I just…I don’t want anyone to get hurt…” you admit. “I’m sorry,” you gasp between sobs, “I don’t know why I’m crying so hard, it’s not like I don’t know what happens out there…” 

“It’s alright Love,” Minho pulls you into him, which for some reason only incites more tears, “this was the first time you’ve really heard us talk about things, the first time you’ve really been able to understand how deep in this we are, so it’s not shocking that it hit you hard, the reality.” 

You nod, trying to compose yourself. You take several deep breaths. What the Hell is your problem? Are you truly shocked to know that these men risk their lives? As if you’ve not had them bloodied, shot and stabbed on your kitchen table? 

You seem to get past the hiccuping sobs and right yourself, “Sorry,” you sigh, “I’m just worried about you, all of you. How will you do this? How can I help?” 

Hyunjin smooths your hair and kisses your forehead, “The best way for you to help is to be ready for anything medically speaking, making sure you have everything you need for any possible situation, that’s how you help baby.”

You nod, and look around the room, “I’ll take inventory, make a list of the things I can’t get at the pharmacy, Christopher and I can run out later this week to stock up on trauma supplies.” 

Hyunjin kisses you gently and squeezes your hand, “I’m going to go start strategy talk, our next deliveries for the quarter are due in just under a month, that’s not a lot of time.” 

You and Minho watch as Hyunjin leaves the room. 

“He really is the best I’ve got,” Minho sighs. 

“But you don’t like the situationship we’ve got going, do you?” you ask, which comes as a surprise to you. This isn’t the best time to be talking about relationships, not with everything that just transpired, and yet it fell out of your mouth anyway. 

“What are you talking about?” Minho asks, looking genuinely confused. 

Fine, you guess now is the time, “There are moments, not often but enough that I notice, where you get so quiet, where you feel so distant. I assume that’s because you’d rather it just be you and I, just the two of us together.” 

“I suppose that would make things simpler,” he says, “and it’s true that the moment you said you had feelings for both of us it hit me hard, it was a blow to my pride, but then your face flashed in my head, how you looked that day that I threatened you, how you had just asked me not to give you a reason to be scared of me and I realized that I love you, ___, and I love you in whatever way that comes as.” 

You smile, “You love me, huh?” 

“Yes,” he pulls you into him and kisses your cheeks and nose, “I love you, it’s not something I take lightly and it’s hard for me to say the words because now it’s real, now you know, and now I can actually lose you and if I do I think I might lose myself too.” 

“You won’t lose me,” you whisper. 

“Mm,” he nods, “Just promise me you’ll always be careful, always keep an eye over your shoulder.” 

“I promise.” 

“I need to go back to them,” he gestures towards the door and pulls away. 

“That still doesn’t explain the way you get so quiet sometimes, so contemplative, like you’re questioning it,” you call out to him. 

“I’m not questioning our arrangement Love,” he answers. 

“Then what?” 

He looks toward the sitting area, then back at you, “I guess I just didn’t expect to start caring about him in a different way, that one took me off guard, and yes it does pull me out of the moment sometimes thinking about it.” 

You nod with a smile, “I see.” 

“Yes, so don’t worry baby, okay? I’m just getting used to this new part of me.”

“Okay.” 

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

“So that’s the thread for the stitch kit, the gauze, the wound care kit, I’d like to get an extra pair of clamps and some sort of disinfectant, iodine if they have it but I suppose alcohol will do if they don’t,” you tell Christopher, tossing a few extra things in the basket. 

“I dropped your medication list off with our guy, I’ll know what he can get us and what he can’t by the end of the day,” he shares. 

“Miss ___?” a voice calls your name and you turn towards it. A man in a cheap suit smiles as he walks up to you in the aisle. 

“Don’t say anything,” Chris mutters under his breath before distancing himself from you. 

“You are Miss ___, are you not?” the man produces a photo on his phone of you and Minho, it’s from the night at the Casino. 

“I suppose I am,” you shrug, plastering a casual smile on your face. You can feel your pores opening from the impending sweat and your heart begins to race. 

“You’re familiar with Lee Minho, the man in the picture?” 

“I know who he is, obviously,” you look at the photo, unable to deny that it’s you, “and you know who I am it seems, but I didn’t catch your name?” 

“Beg your pardon ma’am, my name is Jeon Jungkook, I’m the lead Detective on an arson case we’re working at a warehouse Mr. Lee owns,” he smiles and shows you his badge. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

“Oh, yes, I think I heard something on the news about an explosion outside the city yesterday morning, it was Mr. Lees, you said?” you try to feign surprise but this Jeon guy doesn’t look amused. 

“It was, and I was hoping maybe you’d be willing to come into the station sometime to answer some questions about the, uh, possessions Mr. Lee seems to have lost in the fire,” he grins smugly. 

“Well I’m not sure why you’d think I’d know about anything he lost. That seems like a conversation to have with him, or perhaps the insurance company,” you say. 

“The possessions I’m speaking of aren’t ones that are likely covered by insurance ma’am, and I bet you know that,” he replies. 

You shake your head, “Then you’d lose your bet, Detective, because I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Right, I see,” he sighs, disappointed, then digs in his back pocket and leans in closer, “Here’s my card, if you decide you’re done protecting the bad guys then give me a call,” he looks over your shoulder, “Don’t think I don’t see you Bang, be sure to be a good lap dog and carry Miss ___’s medical supplies to her car for her,” he looks at you, “wouldn’t want you to forget anything then not be able to patch up Lee’s boys,” he winks then walks off. 

He knows. He knows who you are and what you do. He knows everything. Or maybe he doesn’t but obviously he suspects or he wouldn’t have said any of that. 

“Hey, are you good? You look pale as fuck,” Christopher asks but you don’t answer him, suddenly you’re stomach is churning, acid and bile and the iced coffee you drank on the way here bubbling and lurching up, “Hey, ___?” 

“I’ve got to get out of here,” you rasp, no matter how deeply you breathe it feels like you’re not getting enough air, “I need to get out, get me the fuck out of here!” you yelp.

Chris nods and sets the basket on a shelf, “Okay, okay, come on,” he ushers you toward the parking lot. 

It’s no use, even though the breeze is cool and soothes your skin, your stomach still twists and the nausea is too much, you brace one hand on the side of the car and bend over, vomiting all over the parking space, your shoes, and the rear tire of the car parked next to Chris’s. 

“Fuck…” Chris gags, he opens the door and leans in, plucking left over restaurant napkins from his center console and handing them to you. 

“Thanks,” you say hoarsely, wiping your mouth off, then bending over to wipe your shoes. You walk over to a nearby garbage bin and toss the napkins in. You feel better after puking your guts out and finally take a breath.

Chris holds the passenger door open for you, “Well, good thing you didn’t overreact or lose your cool or something,” he laughs and so do you. “Do you want me to go back in and buy all the shit we came here for?” 

“Yes,” you sigh, resting your head on the seat, “Please. Can you get me a lemonade or something as well?” 

“Yeah, be right back.” 

“Thank you Chris, and, I know we’ll have to tell Minho about the detective but for the love of God can you please keep your mouth closed about me having a nervous puke session after? He already worries too much about me. If he thinks I’m going to barf every time I leave the house then I’ll be trapped like a rat.” 

“I swear.” 

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

“Like the lawyer said baby, investigators are going to be watching, but they don’t have jack shit on us, I’ve spent my entire career ensuring that anything they have is circumstantial at best, completely inadmissible, you are fine,” Minho soothes. 

“I’ve never been on that side of things before,” you say softly, “I’ve never really been on any side of the law, I guess, but being the one approached, being asked questions - God that was awful.” 

Hyunjins hand grazes over your hip, “They’ve got nothing on you baby,” he kisses your bare shoulder. “Don’t let it bother you. Don’t let him get to you.” 

“He knew exactly what I do for you, he said it plainly,” you point out. 

“So he knows you’re a nurse and made an educated guess that you use that knowledge to help people, big fucking deal, that’s nothing, certainly not a crime, and neither is being in a picture with me, you’re safe baby,” Minho continues. “I protect my people, I would never let anything carelessly slip through the cracks, would never let anything happen to you, to either of you.” 

Hyunjins hand stills on your hip and you can feel him staring at Minho from behind you. He clearly wasn’t aware of his upgraded position in Minhos emotional capacities and you grin in spite of the shitty day. Especially when you feel Hyunjins erection growing against your backside. 

“Shower?” he asks the two of you. 

“You boys go,” you sigh, “I took a shower this afternoon. If my hair gets wet I’ll kill you and I am not fucking anyone in a shower cap,” you laugh, though if you’re being honest your stomach is still queasy and while the thought of getting fucked out in the shower is always appealing, you don’t need the shaking and bouncing right now. 

“You usually shower at night though,” Minho pouts, rubbing his nose against yours. 

“I…” you don’t want him or Hyunjin to know that you got so nervous after talking to the officer that you puked, you do not need them fretting over you, “I spilled something on myself earlier and wanted to clean up after. Besides, I feel like crap today, I’m no good,” you chuckle, stretching out on the bed with a yawn. 

“Then we’ll stay here until you fall asleep,” Minho scoots in and tucks you under his chin while Hyunjin presses himself to your back, and you instantly feel the hardness again. 

“Be right back,” Hyunjin squirms off the bed and trots off toward the bathroom. 

“What’s his problem?” Minho looks at the door. 

You giggle, “Our Hyunjin is feeling a little stiff, if you catch me, I think he went to go fix that.” 

“Oh…” Minho trails off, but you catch the way he keeps his eyes fixed on the door. 

“Go,” you nudge him a bit. 

“Without you?” Minho raises his brow. 

You cock your head to the side, “See, unlike you, I’m not possessive,” you smile and kiss him, giving his bottom lip a little bite, “Go.” 

Truth be told, the scene playing out behind the bathroom door entices you, you can feel the wet pooling between your legs, feeling uncomfortable and slick, and you think of pulling yourself out of bed to join. However, the weight of the last few days seems to be catching up to you, the level of tiredness you feel rivals the way you felt after leaving your third 12hr night shift of the week back at the hospital. You haven’t felt this sleepy in so long that not even the two men getting busy in your bathroom, wishing you were in there with them, could stop your eyes from fluttering shut and immediately going to sleep. 

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

The full night of sleep doesn’t seem to even make a dent in your exhaustion. The following day you still drag your feet, unable to do anything productive despite the growing to-do list you’re making in your head. Not to mention that your stomach still doesn’t feel quite right and you begin to wonder if you’ve eaten something or caught a bug. 

When your phone rings, waking you from your second nap of the day you want to toss it into the toilet. 

“We’re about five minutes out,” Jeongin yells into the phone. 

Fuck. 

“Who is it and how bad?” you ask the same question you always do. 

“Seungmin got shot in the leg,” he answers. 

“Okay, I’ll be ready.” 

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

Seungmin sits on the kitchen table, his foot propped up in one of the seats as blood drips down his calf. His face contorts everytime you press the gauze to his wound and you only take a tiny smidgen of satisfaction from that. 

“It grazed you,” you squint, “but it grazed you deep. I need to flush it with saline and clean it up before I can decide if you need stitches or not,” you explain. 

“Well do that then, it hurts,” he whines and you roll your eyes. 

“I’ve got to get back to Lee and the others, tell them what we found before you got sniped in the leg,” Jeongin says, pacing back and forth. 

“What did you find?” you wonder out loud. 

“Why do you need to know?” Seungmin snaps but rights himself when you and Jeongin both shoot him a look. “Sorry.” 

“Taehyungs front business is all in hotels, that we knew, and we also know his actual business is heroin, we’ve never known where his storehouse was though, until now. We just found it,” Jeongin says proudly, “that’s got to be where he’s keeping our stolen guns. He couldn’t keep that much hardware hidden in a hotel.” 

“Go,” Seungmin says but looks behind him at Christopher who sits in the living room spectating, “take him with you, no one goes anywhere alone, you heard Lee.” 

“You two good to sit here together?” Jeongin asks with a smirk. 

“I’ll be nice if he does, and if not then I’ll just go in a little deeper with those stitches,” you smile up at Seungmin. 

“Just go, I’m fine,” Seungmin huffs. 

Chris and Jeongin leave and you continue to work silently on Seungmins leg, trying desperately not to think about how sick your stomach feels. 

You clear your throat after several moments, “You know, asking people to stop getting shot so much is a request I never thought I’d have to utter so often,” god your stomach is killing you - banter with Seungmin? Ugh. You are off today.

“Mm, so sorry Princess, that I inconvenienced your day of doing absolutely nothing. You’ve still got pillow marks on your face for Gods sake, have you just been asleep all day?” he retorts. 

“Yep,” you say, swallowing hard, trying to keep whatever is in your stomach from coming up. 

“Makes sense, you look like absolute garbage.” 

“Feel like it too,” you agree, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand. 

“Well fuck __, it’s not fun being an ass to you if you just sit there and take it,” Seungmin scoffs, “What the Hell is wrong with you anyway?” 

“I don’t know,” you frown, pulling your hands away from his leg, “I just…” your hand flies up to your mouth and you run across the kitchen so you can vomit into the sink. 

“Ughhhh,” Seungmin groans, “are you sick or something?”

“I don’t know,” you pant, gripping the edge of the counter, “I think I ate something I shouldn’t have,” you say. 

“Oh sure, that’s what they all say but really you’ve probably got some disgusting, contagious bullshit,” he covers his mouth and nose dramatically with his arm, “stay away from me.” 

“Are you going to stitch yourself up then? Besides, the only people I’ve been around are you guys, are any of you sick? Hm?” 

You pluck a paper towel off the roll and wipe your mouth.

“You’re not pregnant are you?” he laughs and puts his arm back down. 

You freeze, falling back into the chair you’ve been stitching him from. Your eyes go wide as different numbers matrix-drip down your brain. You don’t remember how long it’s been since your period, but you know you’ve had multiple since you started working for Minho, was the last one at the last house? This house? You can’t remember. The realization that you haven’t remembered to get a Depo shot since you were working at the hospital, however, is a much more violent intrusion, hitting you like a semi truck barreling into a brick wall. You told Minho the first time you’d ever been together that you were good, that you were on birth control, and at the time it was true. In the chaos of everything though, you’d not been back to the doctor, you hadn’t even thought of it. How could you not have thought of it?

You look up at Seungmin, body numb and eyes wide, unspeaking. 

He lets out a windstorm of a sigh and rolls his eyes, “Oh for fucks sake.”

Endnotes:

1. Ooofffff. Don’t hurt me

2. I will do tag lists this evening 😘

[blakeswritingimagines]

A Little Bit Happy

Summary: You seem to have won your husband's heart all over again after the news of you having his child, until he shows you how truly dark his heart is.

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: Part 1 Burn The House Down

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

"I'm pregnant." She spoke softly.

His eyes widened for a split second before he broke out in a soft chuckle. Was he imagining things, or were you truly saying what he thought he heard? “Do you mean it?” He asked slowly, taking in every word. He was unsure, but this would explain the weight gain, as well as why you had been so… moody. He had no other choice but to believe you for now. A child! This changes everything. Aemond was shocked. “P…. Pregnant?! Are you… serious?!” He was speechless. He tried to keep his composure but he could not hide his joy and excitement. Was it true, you were carrying his child? The thought alone sent his heart racing. He looked at you and put a smile on his face. This was the news he had been waiting for all this time. And he looked you straight in the eyes. “Is this true?” he asked, his eyes filled with joy and wonder. You heard Aemond's reaction, his eyes widened in shock and excitement. And you knew it was as you expected. You were truly carrying his child. "Yes, it is…" You replied in a sweet voice as your face grew bright with a wide smile. You felt so happy that Aemond was excited about the news, hoping the tension between you both would dissolve. "I am pregnant with our child." You continued, as you placed your hand on your stomach. "I've been trying to keep it a secret, but it has become difficult to hide. I guess I can make it official." You laughed and glanced at Aemond, who seemed to be beaming with enthusiasm. You wanted him to be happy and to hear the news he had been waiting for all this time. "It's true," you said, your eyes shining brightly.

“A baby?!” Aemond said with a grin. “You’re saying we’re going to have a baby?!” He placed his hand on your stomach, as you had done. “My lovely wife… I had feared that this day would never come. I could not imagine a day when we would not bring forth the next generation of our house. But, my worries are gone. We have made what I most desired.” Aemond laughed with joy and embraced you, holding you close in his arms as his grin grew wider and wider. Your hand rested on your stomach, the movement of your hand looked as though you were comforting the child being carried within. And he was overjoyed by this revelation. This was no secret anymore. Aemond was a man changed. He smiled and took your hand bringing it to his lips and kissed it. "Our child. Our beautiful child."

Months later, the pregnancy went smoothly and you began to notice your belly growing larger and your mood changing. You felt your emotions become more intense as the pregnancy became more advanced. Your moods shifted from happy to angry to anxious to affectionate, all in the span of just a few hours. You could not explain it. Aemond knew your mood swings were common and he understood it the best he could. However, these mood swings of yours were becoming more frequent and intense as the pregnancy progressed. He was constantly finding himself walking on eggshells, unsure of which mood his wife might have. Your mood swings were often unpredictable, and Aemond never knew what to expect from one moment to the next. But he understood, you were carrying a life within you, it was bound to create such mood swings at the least. He had to be patient with you. And he was. The days he seemed to be distant were now fewer and further between the two of you, he was there by your side always. He could see the weight changes, you were getting rather large now. He could notice it in your face and around your midriff. It was not easy being married to someone who was so emotionally unstable. It was especially exhausting being forced to play the role of husband and father at the same time never finding a good enough time to come clean about what he'd done. He was constantly stressed and his nerves frayed at the slightest change in your behavior.

The pregnancy was taking a toll on you. Your mood swings were becoming more and more uncontrollable. You would be laughing one moment, sad the next, and you could not figure out what to do about it. You felt that you were losing yourself and had no control over your feelings. You were now getting closer and closer to the due date. Your belly was huge and you were uncomfortable even as you constantly asked if you were fat or pretty. You tried hard not to let it bother you, but it was getting more difficult to ignore. “My dear, you’re gorgeous.” Aemond’s tone was filled with love and kindness as he spoke to you. “You are bigger yes, because our child is too, but you are not fat. And you are not losing yourself.” He added as he held you close. “You are becoming a mother. These feelings are natural. You are carrying our child within you. Your emotions are bound to be different. This is how it should be. You are going to give life. You are becoming more beautiful with each day.”

You listened to him carefully as he tried to reassure you about your changing body. You felt your confidence rise at the way he talked, calming your nerves with his words. You looked into his eyes and saw nothing but love, nothing but honesty. "Thank you, my love… You are right. This is how it should be." You smiled faintly, feeling more at ease. You felt your mood shift slightly, your pregnancy hormones calming down. It felt good to hear the words come from him directly, not just in your head. He was happy to see, that his words were helping. He took you into his arms and held you. His hand stroked your belly, as he spoke. “You are more beautiful now than ever before.” Those were the words he believed in this moment. You were not getting larger, you were getting more beautiful. Because the child within you was, a part of you both. It was beautiful to him. Aemond kissed you, it was a long kiss, filled with love.

Aemond was filled with nerves and excitement as the day of childbirth approached. He was as much worried for his wife’s health as he was for the child’s. But he did not show his worries to you. Instead, he tried to keep calm you. “You will be fine.” He told you. “In a few hours, we will see our child. Our beautiful child. I will be right beside you the entire time my dear.” He held your hand and kissed you once more. “I know you will. You have been by my side through everything… This will be no different.” You smiled gently at your husband, feeling comforted by his words. As you felt the baby kick inside your belly, you looked down and placed your hand upon your stomach, caressing the baby.

“Our beautiful child.” You repeated in a soft voice as you looked up to Aemond. Your breathing steadied and you felt more calm as he held your hand in his and placed gentle kisses upon it. You tried to focus on the good instead of the anxious thoughts that swarmed you. “I am so nervous.” You quietly admitted to him, feeling your emotions rise as you remembered the pain that would come during the delivery. “It is natural to get nervous my dear. But you won’t feel a thing. I hired the finest maester there is in King’s Landing to see to it that this whole process is as painless as possible.” He would let nothing happen to the woman he loved. You need not to worry. He would make sure of it. “When the time comes… we shall hold hands, and you need not fear any pain. I shall be by your side to ensure nothing goes wrong.” He spoke to you in a soothing tone, trying to quell your fears.

In your mind, all was well. You were going to give birth in a few hours to the child. A boy or girl. That did not matter much to you. As long as the baby was healthy and strong, it was all you could ask for. But the burning secret. It loomed over Aemond. He could not even feel anything but shame knowing what he was keeping from his wife. He had to keep this from you otherwise all would fall apart. He could not tell you. Not now. Perhaps never. It was the secret that loomed over him, that he felt he could not disclose to her. This was something that could change everything. But he could not find the right way to go about breaking the news to her. You were carrying his child, and you did not deserve to go through this pain when he could ease it. You were so vulnerable and he could not risk hurting you in this way. “I cannot stop thinking about the pain.” You said softly as you felt the discomfort in your stomach, moving your hand to your lower midriff and rubbing it gently. “What if I do not survive?” You whispered to Aemond, looking for reassurance from him as your eyes were glued to his. The burning guilt only grew as you approached your delivery hour. He knew he should have told you sooner, but each day the news got harder to reveal.

The more you spoke, the more he felt ashamed and remorseful. It had been months, and he had yet to tell you. What was so hard about telling you the truth, the same truth you so desperately wanted to hear. But it would ruin everything. The guilt he felt for hiding this from his wife was unbearable in this moment. You seemed so worried. You were afraid. You were looking at him of all people to console you, to tell you everything would be alright. “You will survive. I promise you that.” He told you. “You are strong. Stronger than any in the realm. I have faith you will emerge victorious.” The promise was meant to soothe you, to ease your fears, and he hoped you would believe it. He did not know how much further he could keep this from you. He had to figure out a way to tell you soon. But not now. Not while you were this fragile. His words comforted you, allowing you to smile faintly. Your gaze softened as you looked into his eyes. “I believe you.” You nodded, your breath becoming steady once again. “Just be by my side during this delivery, and we will be fine.” You said, holding his hands. You felt the contractions tightening and you gasped quietly, looking over to Aemond for a moment. "Thank you." You gave him a small smile, trying to stay positive. Your nerves seemed to have calmed down, and his words had given you a sense of relief. "I'm looking forward to holding our baby in my arms… The thought of me actually being a mother… We will raise our son or daughter with love, and we will be happy as a family." Your voice was soft and loving. You closed your eyes and leaned in to rest your forehead against his chest.

You and Aemond were celebrating the one-year nameday of your babe being born. Holding held a grand feast, inviting all the important lords and ladies of the realm. The mood was lighthearted, and a sense of happiness permeated the air. The two took some time away from the feast to enjoy the evening alone together, walking through the gardens of the Red Keep as Aemond said he needed to speak with you. Aemond had been preparing for this moment. He wanted to finally tell you the truth. It had to be done. You were finally alone, the moment he had been dreading for so long. But he could not delay any longer. He had to tell you. All the signs pointed to now. “My love, there's something I must tell you” But now he hesitated again. Maybe this was not the best moment. Maybe it should be done tomorrow, yes. Tomorrow was a better day. Tomorrow was good. He will tell you tomorrow. But as the time of the walk came to a stop, he finally built up the courage.

You smiled at Aemond, not noticing anything amiss, and you continued walking with him through the gardens. You had been enjoying the quiet moment with your husband as you enjoyed the beauty of the gardens. Your mind was occupied with the happiness of the day, and you wanted to cherish the moment. "What is it dear?" Aemond stopped for a few moments. The time had come. He did not enjoy watching you walk and be so happy when he knew that he was going to shatter all joy. He hated himself and everything about what he was about to say. He turned to face you. For a few moments, he could not speak. But then finally, he managed to gather his words together. “I… there is something I must tell you. But I implore you, please understand…” You felt a sudden tension in the air when Aemond stopped walking and you could not read his facial expression. The feeling of unease set in and the happiness you had been feeling vanished. You looked up to him, awaiting him to continue speaking. You suddenly stopped as well, your face softening as you noticed the look in Aemond's eyes. You immediately grew worried, sensing something was wrong. There was a hint of fear in your eyes as you spoke to your husband, your tone becoming urgent. "What is it? What is wrong?" You said, your heart pounding.

You were so innocent. Too innocent to know what he was about to say. He would need to break this to you gently. To be kind in this moment. To not be too harsh. The guilt was eating him alive. There was so much he had done wrong. But he had to tell you. You deserved to know what he had been keeping from you all this time. “There is… an important thing I need to tell you…” His voice was filled with guilt. He struggled to find the words. To put a voice to his actions. And as he felt his heart pounding, he pushed through. “I have… I have seen.. another woman.” He paused. It felt as though the entire world was closing in on you both. “Her name is Alys… Alys Rivers. And I have been…” You did not believe what you just heard. You thought your whole world was crumbling down before you, yet Aemond's words were slowly chipping away at your heart. The fear and anger built within you as you listened to him confess about his affair. You felt cold and numb, all hope and happiness lost within you at that moment. It took you a few moments to even breathe, the shock of it making your heart sink even lower. You couldn't even look Aemond in the eyes… you just kept her eyes on the ground.

Aemond noticed how you did not look up to face him. It tore him to pieces. He was the one to hurt you. He was the one who had caused this. He was hoping there would be some sort of understanding. But he was not so lucky. “Please, I beg you. I could not stop myself.” He knew that what he did was unforgivable. But he had to at least try to make his case. It was all he could get out at this moment. He paused for a moment and thought about the consequences this could have. You were so sensitive and he was pushing you to the absolute limit. He did need to keep his words right. But he wanted to try something. Blame you for not getting pregnant sooner. He thought about that for a minute. It was the only thing he could think of, but was it the right thing to say? Could a simple lie ease the pain for now at least? He looked at you, hoping that his excuse would be enough. “You could have gotten pregnant sooner.” He said. He was testing the waters. He had to find a way to shift the blame.

Those words hurt you more than he could ever imagine. Hearing those words come out of his mouth shocked you to your very core. You hated him for blaming you, and yet your heart clenched at the thought. The rage inside of you grew hotter as you listened to his cruel remark. You felt furious as you thought about him placing the blame on you when he had been the one who had strayed from the marriage. That was absolutely unfair to you. You had been trying your very best to give him a child, while he had been fooling around. Your face grew pale as Aemond tried to blame you, and you felt your heart sink even lower. Your eyes turned to him, filled with anger and grief as you could not believe what he just said to you. You started to tremble, and your expression turned cold, as all of the memories of the failed attempts to bring another child to life came swirling into your mind whispering in a broken tone. "I did all I could." It was the best thing he could do. He had to do it. He could not imagine what would happen to him, to his marriage if he did not succeed. You might leave him. So he must use his cunning. It was something he had been practicing for years. He knew you were smart, but your feelings made you weak. He had to use it to his advantage. “You haven’t been trying hard enough, my love,” Aemond said in a harsh tone, His eyes softened to not give away his deception. “Yes… I only wish you would have done more.” He said to you. “I cannot help but think that this is all your fault.”

His words cut deeper than a razor, cutting directly into your heart. You froze at his words, unable to speak. You felt so lost and alone now. Your whole world was falling apart. Your heart was shattered. All of those times when you had attempted to bring another human life into this world… you gave her all, feeling so much frustration and worry when the attempts failed. To say it was all your fault was just cruel, but you kept quiet, letting him continue. The plan was working. He could see it in your eyes, in your expression. All he had to do now was continue to play it out. He was getting what he desired. The seeds of doubt had already been planted. And you were not stopping him. You were letting him dig his heels in and plant more. He had to continue, the entire fate of his marriage depended on it. He continued to push you. He was not holding back even as he stepped closer and cupped your face. It was best this way. No regrets. If he could not have your forgiveness he would settle for this. “It has always been so easy for you to give up. First with the miscarriages, then the failure to conceive sooner. It is sad, that it took me having an affair for you to do anything in life.”

Tears were flowing down your cheeks, your heart in pieces. You tried to keep your composure, but it was all becoming too much for you. His words were too cruel and too devastating. And the more he spoke, the more he cut into your heart making you think you should apologize, making you feel worthless. You were too weak to even speak, your mind and body both numb as you stood there, letting him continue. Yes, that was the effect he needed to see. The tears. The sadness. Your weakness. It was all there. He just needed to continue. “You need to understand your duty as a wife… it is to provide your husband with an heir. And you failed. You have failed until recently.” Aemond was enjoying this. Seeing you like this. You were so meek and pathetic. The thought of you on your knees, begging him to forgive you was not too far off now. He continued. “If you had tried harder…” he said. “If you had offered more…” The cruel words flowed from his mouth and landed perfectly. You were in a state of shock, but you were not fighting back. Instead, you were allowing him to tear you down. He could continue down this path and finally, he would have you. It did not take long for tears to flow from your eyes. He was taking full advantage of your sadness. No time for remorse now.

You could not believe what you were hearing. It was too much to bear. Your stomach twisted at these words. You felt sick. As you stood there, tears pouring down your cheeks, your voice was no more than a whisper as you let out some words. "P-Please…" You choked out as you tried to look away from him. Your knees began to tremble as you felt you were close to breaking, your eyes filling with fear. You were so close to giving up. Your strength failing you. 'Good,' he thought. You were close. He could taste your defeat in the air. His words had found their mark. You were in a despairing state that he had never seen you in before. He had to keep pushing you. You were on the brink, he could see it. You were on the verge of giving up. Now he just had to press on. “Your failure was the reason that I turned to another woman. You had the chance to give me children. You had the chance to keep me happy, all of those times when we tried…” He waited for you to apologize. For you to beg forgiveness. This is it. This was the moment that the seeds he planted would blossom into something grand. The thought of you on your knees, begging him to forgive you put a grin on his face. “Please?” He said, smiling at you as he watched you tremble. “Please what?”

"You're right. It's all my fault." You said as you finally looked into Aemond's eyes, your eyes overflowing with tears. "I should have tried harder. I should been a better wife. I should have given you more children. Please, please forgive me." You said as you began to weep, unable to hide your emotions any longer. You felt so weak, and powerless, and he had succeeded in breaking you even as you leaned against him for comfort. Exactly as planned. You were his. Now that you had said the words, you had admitted it. Your apology was accepted, despite its emptiness. You would not try again. “Good.” He said. “I hope that you have learned your place as a wife and as a woman… I hope that you will learn from this situation. And… I suppose I can forget this incident, so long as you behave yourself from now on. But I forgive you. I want to give you another chance.”

Relief washed over you at his acceptance of your apology and his forgiveness. You smiled softly at him, finally feeling some hope again after what felt like weeks of misery. You didn’t want to disappoint him again, and now that he had given you another chance, you were determined to make it count. “I promise you that I will behave. I won’t fail again.” You said in a soft voice before looking away for just a moment, feeling ashamed. “Thank you, my love.” “Of course.” He said, giving you a reassuring smile. “I know you will not let me down.” He saw how you still looked ashamed. A thought popped into his head. He must go further with this for now. Perhaps he would regret it later on but for now. “The fault is not completely with you. I have failed you as well. I have not loved you enough. I have not appreciated you. I have not given you all the attention you deserve.” He knew this was not the truth. But it was needed to ensure your completely submissive state. “Now, shall we return to the feast?”

[myocsfanfictions]

THE WRATH OF FIRE

MASTERLIST

Princess Ysilla Targaryen is the only daughter of Prince Daemon Targaryen and Lady Rhea Royce. The affection that she felt for her mother was strong, while her father had never been there, acting as if Ysilla was not even his. But she was. The dragon egg that had been put in her cradle hatched. An outcast of a dragon was born. A dragon with no legs. An outcast of a dragon for and an outcast of a dragon rider. Ysilla’s hair was dark but streaked with white. She was a Targaryen, and her wrath was not different from the one that burned inside the members of the House of the Dragon.

《 Previous - Next 》

CHAPTER 7

The morning of her name day, the Queen congratulated her, "Eleven of age today. I wish you all the best."

Ysilla had risen from her seat next to Helaena to bow graciously, "I thank you, your Grace." The Queen smiled at her, a hint of pride in her eyes.

"You've finished the dress," she said, observing the white gown with green embroidery that Ysilla was wearing. The girl had found many new interests as she lived in the Capital. She had often spent time with Queen Alicent and other ladies who came to the castle as guests.

Ysilla had learned how to sow and make her dresses, including her riding attire for when she went flying on Darysyr's back. At five, she would have never thought that creating something of her own would make her feel so proud of herself. But being close to the Queen had introduced her to a more polished and elegant side that she had never thought would have enjoyed. But she did.

"Princess Ysilla is growing to be very fair," she heard Lady Redwine say.

That day, Ysilla and Helaena had to attend the Queen with the ladies. Ysilla had never liked that woman, always looking at her with sufficiency. But that had been the first time she had complimented her. When she was that skinny little girl of five dressed in simple clothes, people's eyes judged her.

The goat's daughter. Her father called her. And for long, she had felt like one.

She wanted to be liked and accepted by the people in the Red Keep. It was important. Alliances, rumors, and opinions were all linked. Bad rumors brought a bad reputation. And bad opinions did not bring good alliances. Or alliances at all.

"Princess Rhaenyra's second son seems healthy, your Grace," Lady Redwine said as Ysilla looked at Helaena's sawing work on her piece of cloth.

"Thank the Seven; both the mother and the child are healthy," Ysilla said, turning her eyes to observe her Queen. She had heard the strange tone of her voice crack, even if she was trying to keep her posture.

Ysilla had heard some whispers in the castle the day Jacaerys had been presented at court. But they had only grown worse when Lucaerys had been born. Both boys were dark-haired and had nothing of their father, Laenor Velaryon, in them.

"People say they are bastards," Aegon told her one day as they sat in his chambers, as they usually did, spending time together after their studies.

Ysilla regarded Aegon, "She could never do it." she said, "Rhaenyra would not cheat on her husband."

Aegon laughed as he lay on the ground. His purple eyes looked up at her, set on the cousins of the furniture. "Why?"

"We've studied politics, Aegon," she said, glaring down at him.

He smiled again, "I like to hear you read."

Ysilla sat up. "Then now listen," she answered. Rhenyra is married. She has a duty toward her husband and her people." Aegon seemed bored, but she kept talking. She was used to his behavior. "An unclear parentage brings an unstable claim to the throne." She explained, "Do you remember what I told you about my father? He would have liked to insinuate that I was a bastard for my dark hair so that he could accuse my mother of such a vile act." Those words tasted bitter on her tongue. She still remembered clearly what her mother had told her so long ago.

"But your pretty hair is streaked with silver, and your eyes are purple like ours." He answered, resting his weight on his elbows, his eyes looking at her. "So no harm done."

Ysilla lowered her eyes sadly, "There are always repercussions."

If she had been a bastard, her father would have disowned Lady Rhea, ruining her reputation. But maybe she could still be alive.

"Ser Criston," she greeted as she walked towards the Queen's chambers.

"Princess," he said, bowing his head respectfully. Ysilla felt like blushing. It happened quite a lot with Ser Criston lately. She had started to notice how beautiful the features of his face were, and that thought always made her blush. She felt a little stupid every time he was the one guarding the chamber.

"Princess Ysilla, your Grace," Ser Cole announced as she entered through the door.

"Thank you, Ser Criston," the Queen answered. The man bowed before exiting. "You are early today," Alicent said, gesturing her to come sit next to her.

"How was your morning, your Grace?"

"The King had trouble with his hand this morning," the Queen explained with a heavy breath. The Maester is tending him."

"I hope his Grace will recover soon," Alicent's lips turned into a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"How was your morning with Aegon?" She asked Ysilla, changing the subject. Ysilla took a breath.

"You know your son," Ysilla answered, "He gets distracted easily."

The woman took a breath. "At least he is less distracted by you. Thank you for keeping an eye on him." Ysilla shook her head.

"No thanks needed," she said sincerely. In six years, she had grown fond of all the cousins. But there was something that Ysilla could not quite understand. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course," the Queen answered.

Ysilla took a moment. She didn't want to make a wrong impression after those years in which the Queen seemed to favor her. "You once told me that it was important for Aegon to respect his duty since he was next in line," she noticed Alicent's posture become stiff all of a sudden. But she didn't interrupt her. "Rhaenyra has given birth to two healthy sons. Couldn't Aegon get discharged from all these duties?"

The Queen's face darkened. And for a moment, Ysilla thought that maybe she should have kept quiet. But then, the Queen spoke.

"You are quite observant, Ysilla," she said, their eyes met. Very little slips from your sight. So tell me, when you've seen Rhaenyra's sons, what did you notice?"

Ysilla bit her lips, lowering her gaze. "What should I have noticed?" she did not want to answer. It was another dangerous accusation, the one that she was about to make. And from the look the Queen was giving her, Ysilla knew that she could not avoid answering.

"There's no Laenor in those children," she said truthfully, feeling uneasy about such words. Alicent nodded her head as she listened to her.

"There are many whispers in the castle, and they are spreading." the Queen said, standing up, her hands clenched together as she walked towards the window. "No one believes those children are Laenor's."

Ysilla frowned, "Shouldn't the King do something about it? Didn't he notice?"

"He does, and yet he refuses to see." The irritation in the woman's voice was evident. Ysilla, on the other hand, wondered what it would have been like to have a father who'd have protected her at any cost. She felt envy.

"But this puts all of us in great danger." Ysilla frowned, looking at her Queen with worried eyes. What danger?

"Aegon is a challenge to Rhaenyra." The Queen explained.

"A challenge?" She asked, confused.

The Queen nodded her head. Her hand moved to touch the skin of her neck, and as she did every time, anxiety rose in her.

"When Aegon was born, many believed him to be the rightful heir." Ysilla knew that Rhaenyra had been made Heir to the Iron Throne long before Aegon came to the world. If he had been born years before, surely the king would have named him, like tradition wanted. But the King had changed that tradition.

"He surely had done it to prevent my sweet husband from becoming King," Ysilla still remembered her mother laughing. She kept saying that, and it made her laugh every time, even after years.

"The King didn't change his mind, though," Ysilla said, quite sure she was not mistaken.

"No," Alicent let out a heavy breath. Perhaps no one would have questioned her rights. But now, giving birth to bastards..." The irritation in her voice was evident. Ysilla knew how righteous the Queen was. Duty was the most important matter. It came before anything for her.

"What might happen?" Ysilla didn't like where their conversation was going.

"If her right to the throne were ever challenged, my children would be the first obstacles to overcome."

Ysilla understood now. And a shiver went down her spine. If someone had ever questioned Rhaenyra's claim, since her children were considerate bastards, people would have turned to Aegon. Viserys' firstborn son shared the same name as the Conquerer. So, the only thing that stood between Rhaenyra and the Throne was Aegon. And with him, Aemond, Daeron, and Helaena. They were Targaryens, sons and daughter of the King that now set the Iron Throne. They would have to die.

This thought made her shiver with fear and rage. She had already lost her mother to schemes to gain power. She did not want to lose the people that had now become her family.

But Rhaenyra was family as well.

"This is not meant to happen, though," Ysilla tried to look at the situation from a better perspective.

Alicent looked at her with pained eyes, "I wish not, child. But if it is the worst to come, we all better be ready. That's why Aegon has to learn."

_____________________________________________________________

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[8myass]

.. caretaker .. pairing. mark lee x female reader genre. fluff pov. second person (you, yours, yourself, etc.) (‘y/n’ usage) synopsis. mark just wants to take care of you like you take care of him. wc. 0.9k cw. best friend!mark tw. teeth-rottenly cute, pet name (‘babe’), cuddling, socially awkward mark, mentions kissing a/n. soft mark y'all omg

Mark was the sweetest, most sincere person you’ve ever met. He had a heart of gold and always put you above others, even when the two of you were just simple acquaintances. You quickly became best friends, though. Friends turning to some sort of situationship, neither of you really knew what your relationship was turning into at that point, but you both loved every moment of it and savored each other's company. 

However, the poor boy always managed to get himself in hot water when it came to your shared conversations. He would say things that came out the wrong way, not at all how he meant it, but because he lacks knowledge of social cues, he doesn’t understand what he said wrong. You were a teacher for him and his awkwardness in relationships, whether that be romantic or platonic. 

He loved you for that, for helping him become a better version of himself, a version of himself that he loved as well. If it were anyone else, you would’ve left him by now, left him in the dark to handle his problems alone, wondering what he did wrong to leave you hating him. But you didn’t, you’re still by his side taking care of him, helping him, keeping him on his two unstable feet. You were his lifeline, really. If it weren’t for you, he wouldn’t have been able to comprehend why he’d been in so much shit with his past relationships before over simple things he’s said.

He still messes up sometimes, saying things that make you question the true meaning and whether or not he was being rude or just ignorant, but you always correct your mindset and tell yourself that’s just Mark. And it is, but you love him. You love his silly, stupid self. You’ve loved him for quite some time now and he loves you even more than you could ever love him in return. He just sucks at proving that to you. You were too intimidating when it came to romance, he never knew how to approach the situation. He was predictable to you, so he would always try to be unpredictable, but that always failed because it was so predictable of him, you expected it.

But one day, you came down with a cold. You were supposed to meet him later on that day, but you were too ill to get out of bed that morning, let alone make it to your car to drive a few miles out of your way to stuff down food that you undoubtedly would throw up the moment you got home. You decided to call him and cancel your plans, explaining the scenario to him. You were apologetic, which led to him becoming sympathetic. 

By the time you had hung up the phone, he was already knocking on your front door, letting himself in and running you a warm bath, heating up some soup, and pouring you some cold medicine to force it down your throat when you refused to take it yourself. You were so happy to have him here helping you that you didn’t even fight him when he helped you change into a comfy pair of pajamas and laid you down in bed, covering you up with layers of blankets to make sure your shivering was contained enough for you to actually get some sleep.

“Thank you, Mark,” you whimper, throat too sore to speak to your fullest extent of happiness. You wanted to jump up out of bed and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug and kissing his pretty lips, just as you always did when you were too excited to contain yourself. You hated how weak you felt, you were making your sickness seem so dramatic, you being nothing but an inconvenience for Mark right now, you’re sure he has some other, more important, things he could be doing instead of taking care of a twenty-year-old who is perfectly capable of taking care of herself. “You really don’t have to stay, you’ve done enough for me. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? To let you know if I feel better.”

“I’m not leaving you, Y/n,” he frowned, leaning down to press his soft palm against your forehead, moving your bangs off your skin, gentle eyes meeting your shaky ones, “I will never leave you, don’t worry about that. I’m here for you no matter what. That’s what friends are for.” Friends. That was a hard sentence for Mark to get out. Friends… that’s not what you were, that’s not what either of you wanted to be.

“You’re so sweet, I don’t deserve you,” you pouted, wiggling around under your blankets to make room next to you for Mark to lay down, “Lay with me then. Hold me.”

“Gladly,” he slipped under the blankets alongside you, wrapping his arms loosely around you to pull you against his body, head pressed firmly into his chest. “This might sound weird, but I like it when you’re sick.”

“Why’s that?” you chuckled, knowing he didn’t quite mean it the way that came out. He was still working on his word placements, you understood that.

“Because then you let me take care of you,” he laughed in turn, brushing his fingers through your hair as a comforting hand trailed along your spine. You hummed in response, not making another sound as you slowly drifted off to sleep. “Now get some rest, babe. Feel better in the morning.”

[hallayaps]

Hallo :D

Can I please request either Itto, Kaveh or Alhaitham (you can choose since idk what characters you like writing and i love them all) with a reader who was injured in battle with them. <3

Requests are always open ^^

Hallo :D

You requested either but i couldn't help but to do all LOL, i love all those characters as well so don't you worry, you didn't mention if it's about how they take care of the reader or how they protect them or how would they react seeing them get hurt so i took liberty at doing that i hope you enjoy :>

Notes: reader is gender neutral, has a hydro vision and is a blue oni due to recessive genes and all in ittos part, reader knows both kaveh and alhaitham from the academia in their separate parts and is a researcher for the academia AND is roommates with kaveh and alhaitham but they come and go because they go all around teyvat... Blablabla let's get started (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠).

It's my first time writing, English isn't my first language, characters aren't lovers yet but it takes that route somehow, enjoy :)

ITTO

Inazuma's sky was a tapestry of darkening hues, with the sun dipping below the horizon, casting long shadows across the vibrant landscape.

You had recently arrived in Inazuma, seeking to understand more about your heritage as a blue oni after going and tracking your family lineage and figuring out Inazuma could be a good head start.

To your luck (?) you met Yae Miko and she took interest in you because of your unique looks that people don't see everyday, or at least these present times they don't, with her sly smile, suggested you meet Arataki Itto, as she explained that he leads a gang and all you were visibly concerned as he seemed troublesome but when she mentioned he was a fellow oni you somewhat relaxed and understood why him exactly.

The meeting was nothing short of electrifying. Itto’s enthusiasm was infectious, and he immediately took you under his wing, thrilled to have found another oni, he talked and talked, bragged about his horns and compared them to yours.

And as you walked through the streets of Inazuma, Itto regaled you with tales of his adventures and avoided his misadventures but clearly he was a very bad liar, you two passed time and he decided he totally had to introduce you to his gang, so y'all began looking for them here and there.

But the evening took a sudden turn when you encountered a group of Abyss Order members. Itto, always eager for a fight, drew his weapon with a grin. You summoned your Hydro vision, water swirling around you as you prepared to defend yourself.

The battle was fierce, the Abyss mages casting dark spells while you and Itto fought back with ferocity. In the midst of the chaos, a mage’s attack broke through your defenses, especially that you were trying to focus on your charged attack, the mage came through and as he was using the electro element it caused a reaction between you two and as much as you protected the side of your stomach was hurt badly, pain eating all your senses and crushing your stability, you fell into the ground holding where you were hurt while trying to recover fast before anything more happened.

“No!” Itto screamed as he was fighting the abyss Heralds , filled with rage and concern. He charged forward, dispatching the remaining enemies with a flurry of powerful serious blows on the contrary of his nature. When the last of the Abyss Order was defeated, he rushed to your side, worry etched on his face, his joyous usual unserious expression wiped of his face, he held your face looking for traces of life on it, and then he averted his gaze down where your holding yourself as he pushed your arms aside softly he saw the bruising and he felt a mix of complex emotions such as fury and worry and sadness.

“Hang in there, buddy,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “We’ll get you fixed up in no time.” he tried to smile to encourage you, he helped you get up but seeing how unstable you were although you were persistent on being okay, he lifted you in his arms in bridal style.

Itto carried you back to the city, his strength making the journey swift. He took you to a healer, staying by your side as they treated your wounds. Despite the pain, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of belonging, knowing that you had a friend who would protect you no matter what, but at the same time you contemplated whether to ask the healer about the strange beating in your heart, but that wasn't a thing until Itto touched your face softly and it increased when he lifted you, is something wrong and is it because of the injury or what?

You wondered, you seemed out of it so he called out "you with us buddy?" As you came back to reality you looked at him bashfully as you cursed yourself at your strange actions right now, but you decided to brush it off.

"yeah, I'm okay don't worry"

;)

Alhaitham

The Akademiya was a distant memory, but its shadows still lingered in your life. You and Alhaitham had grown from rivals to reluctant allies, as y'all grew up and see it all as a silly past and just your time as teenagers, now sharing an apartment in Sumeru, y'all were close... Very close and everyone noticed that but only you two seemed oblivious that y'all acted like a married couple most of the time. Your role as a researcher kept you constantly on the move, and Alhaitham often joined you on these expeditions, his knowledge and analytical mind proving invaluable, you guys lived together because you didn't see a need to get a whole apartment for yourself if you're constantly here and there, and alhaitham didn't mind your company. He totally doesn't enjoy you being around and hopes for your researching to be in semuru most of the time, ooh you totally don't make his house feel like a home in addition to kaveh :P.

Once, his deep dark (?) wishes totally did become true and you were doing your job in semuru, surprisingly he was reading books in that field and decided to accompany you, according to him he has to see if the contenf of the books was reliable because they were old and there was little to no knowledge capsules about it, such journey led you deep into the Sumeru rainforest, where you were investigating the unique properties of the local flora. Alhaitham was beside you, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the vibrant chaos of the jungle. As you meticulously cataloged your findings, an ominous rustling drew your attention.

Without warning, a band of treasure hoarders emerged, eyes gleaming with greed. They had heard rumors of your discoveries and wanted them for themselves, seeing them hurling in your direction Alhaitham reacted instantly, his Dendro vision activating as he created barriers to protect you both.

The fight was intense, with the treasure hoarders pressing their advantage. You used your Hydro vision to fend them off, and although it was a great combanation with alhaithams and created hyper blooms, they outnumbered y'all and only focused on you as a target so it was significantly hard to keep up, a well-aimed strike from a hoarder’s blade found its mark, cutting through your defenses and leaving a deep gash on your arm.

Alhaitham’s expression darkened, his usually composed features although he's not very expressive a visible fury was taking over his face, and instead of defences he harshly attacked. He dispatched the attackers with a series of precise, devastating blows. When the last of them lay defeated, he turned to you, his hands gentle as he inspected your wound.

“You should have been more careful,” he said, his voice tinged with a rare softness. “We need to get you treated immediately. Let's take you to tighnari and see what we can do, he's surely around the corner”

Despite the pain, you managed a weak smile. “You sound like you care.”

Alhaitham rolled his eyes, but his concern was evident. “Of course, I care. Let’s get back to the city.” he stopped your bleeding by wrapping a cloth tightly around your injured arm and in one swift motion he lifted you as if you were weightless.

The journey back was a blur, with Alhaitham supporting you every step of the way. Arriving at tighnari's, he meticulously treated your injury, alhaitham joining for help and to support you during the quick operation, his hands steady and sure. As you rested, you realized that beneath his aloof exterior, Alhaitham truly cared for you, a bond forged in the fires of shared adversity. You felt a blush coming and blooming in your cheeks and as the two showed concern you played it off ”ah, probably a fever, maybe that blade was infected?” but you shouldn't have said that, as now tighnari is going to run more tests and alhaitham is gonna be close for a longer time.

Or maybe it was for the best?

;)

kaveh

Life with Kaveh was never dull. The architect’s passion for his work often led him into interesting—and sometimes dangerous—situations. You, once rivals in the Akademiya, had grown close, now sharing an apartment (under the "mercy" of alhaitham) and frequently crossing paths in your respective careers, you were a researcher, and as one of kavehs greatest and closest friends, that only know about his living situation with alhaitham as you were the same although you payed your rent.

You often inspired him, by your findings and your journeys, you were like an long time open book helping him to never run out from inspiration, and in return he'd share his thoughts on the riddles and the origins of your findings, analyzing the patterns and all, and although y'all could just somehow catch alhaitham in a good mood and free and ask him, it was way fun and it was a great route of passing time.

One day, Kaveh was commissioned to deliver a custom design to a client in the bustling city of Port Ormos. Ever the perfectionist, he had poured his heart into the project, and you decided to accompany him for support. The sun was setting as you arrived at the meeting point, a shadowy alley that immediately put you on edge. You clenched your fist just in case, as your other hand held your sword in a way that wasn't visible for the other party, your vision dimly illuminating that Alley.

As Kaveh presented his work, the supposed clients revealed their true intentions. They were scammers, seeking to steal his designs and leave him empty-handed. Before he could react, they attacked, intent on taking everything.

Kaveh fought back with surprising tenacity, using his knowledge to his advantage in his fighting style. You summoned your Hydro vision, creating barriers of water to protect him. But in the chaos, and in your focus on their target, your dear friend, one of the scammers landed a blow on you instead, as they didn't care for who is the actual target and with who they were doing business, leaving you wounded.

“No!” Kaveh shouted, his eyes wide with fear and anger. He knocked the assailant away, his normally gentle demeanor replaced by fierce determination. “You’ll regret this!”

With a final, desperate push, you and Kaveh drove the scammers off. Panting and bloodied, Kaveh rushed to your side, his hands trembling as he checked your wound. “You’re hurt… I should have been more careful.”

“It’s not your fault,” you reassured him, wincing as pain flared. “We need to get back and treat this.” he said.

Kaveh helped you to your feet, his support unwavering as you made your way back to the city. Once home, he carefully tended to your injury, his touch filled with guilt and concern. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured, his voice breaking. “I never wanted you to get hurt because of me.”

You reached out, taking his hand. “We’ve been through worse, Kaveh. I’m just glad we’re both okay.” you smiled lightly to reassure him, the injury wasn't that bad but he clearly felt guilty as he thought it was all because of him.

As the night wore on, the pain faded, replaced by the comforting presence of your very close friend. Kaveh’s usual cheer slowly returned, his worry giving way to relief. In that moment, you quietly admired him, how his hair framed his face ever so perfectly, how he smiled and reacted to alhaithams teasing, and how he gently tended to your needs and how soft his touch was on your skin, it seems like you're yet to figure out why you became so aware of everything concerning him, and the weird pace your heart is beating at, but you just thanked the dendro archon for the safety of everyone silently in your heart, as you tried to brush off the million thoughts that are running around in your head and took a glass of liquor to toast with your friends.

;)

Aurelia.

[natti-ice]

Dream Invader- Castiel.

Pairing: Castiel x fem!reader

Summary: Castiel takes a trip into Y/N’s dream and finds some interesting information

Warnings: written in third person (she/her pronouns) (1.6k words)

Author’s note: this is a reupload, I wrote this a while ago!

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3

The Impala drove down a dark road, no other cars for miles. They had just got a case two states over. They had just finished a hunt so they didn't have any time to rest. Dean is in the driver's seat, Sam in the passenger, Y/N in the back passed out. She wasn't new to the game, but it always wore her out like a newbie.

Dean went through all the channels on the radio, either they were static or they were playing some new top 40 song. He wasn't a fan of this new generation's music. He was getting annoyed, he settled on silence.

"All this new technology and they can't get better signal out here" Dean grumbled, mostly to himself.

"People don't listen to the radio anymore, Dean" Sam mumbled, fighting his sleep. He was exhausted, he got four hours of sleep in the past two days. He was always on edge, afraid something would happen when he slept.

"Shh, Y/N's sleeping"

"Must be nice" Dean said looking up at the rearview mirror. "Jesus!" He said startled.

Sam jumped, the tired leaving his body. His hand immediately reaching for his handgun, snapping his back to look in the back seat.

"Cas, you have to stop popping up out of nowhere" Dean sighed

"Sorry, I figured this was better than showing up in the middle of the road."

"I wanted to come with you guys on this hunt, I had nothing better to do" Castiel explained.

"Why didn't you just call?" Sam asked

"I uh- I lost my cellphone" He replied, he had no idea where it was. Probably some country in Europe, he's been to too many places this week.

"Whatever just give us a warning next time" Dean said

-

The four of them drove in silence for another thirty minutes. Y/N is still sound asleep. As much as Dean loved to drive, looking at a bunch of nothing is boring. He was trying to think of a game to keep him occupied, maybe like 'count how many trees you see' he probably couldn't count that high.

Checking the mirror once more, he saw a faint smile on Y/N's sleeping face. She was always a peaceful sleeper, he wondered how after all the things they had seen. How could anyone sleep after that? He was happy she could sleep, he never wanted her to know the feeling of running off adrenaline and bad coffee.

He got an idea, not his best work but he had to deal with what he had.

"Hey Cas" The angel looked up, he didn't know road trips were this boring.

"Yeah?" He answered

"Why don't you hop into Y/N's dream, see why she's got that smile on her face"

"Dean-" Sam started

"C'mon it's harmless Sammy. Just a little bit of fun" Dean said before his brother could tell him how that it was an invasion of privacy blah blah.

"I don't think that's a good Idea, Dean" Castiel didn't understand how this would be "fun" But he knew humans found entertainment in weird ways.

"Don't be a buzzkill. Just use your little angel powers and see what she's doing."

"She's probably running through a field of flowers or something"

"Fine. I'll do it, but don't ask me to do anything weird for at least a week"

"Deal, now go" Dean said, he could feel his brother's disappointed glare as Cass disappeared.

"What?" he asked

"Boundaries Dean, boundaries." Sam sighed

"Oh please it's not like Cas doesn't show up in our dreams three times a week"

Silence.

"No, he doesn't" Sam said confused

"Whatever, you know what I mean" Dean nervously squeezed the steering wheel. Oh god, do I dream about Cas? he thought.

"Right.." Sam replied giving Dean a skeptical look

-

Castiel landed on some unstable surface. Looking down at his feet, his black shoes were sinking in sand with every step. He looked around at his surrounding, he was on a beach. The sun was starting to set, the sound of waves crashing filled the air. It was so picturesque.

He could hear faint music coming from his right. Off into the distance, he could see two people standing. He figured it was Y/N, but he didn't know who the other person was. He walks closer to the pair, he noticed small candles lit around the two.

They were swaying to the tune playing from the small radio on the ground. It was one of those old love songs. It seemed whoever she was with, they were romantically involved. When he got about 6 feet away from them, he could see who the mystery person was.

It was him.

Well, his vessel.

They seemed so happy, in love with the moment. Y/N had her arms wrapped around his torso resting her head on his chest. While dream Castiel's hands were on her waist. He didn't know she felt that way about him, maybe it was just the dream.

He watched them for what felt like forever, as he took in the sight. He had a strong love for Y/N, he had trouble figuring out what kind of love. She was one of the most beautiful humans he'd ever met. She's smart, funny, caring, in his eyes she was perfect.

Though, he wasn't sure how relationships between humans and angels would be seen by the man upstairs. Honestly, he didn't care.

He guessed he had been standing there so long Y/N felt his presence. She looked over and saw him. "Castiel?" her eyes went wide.

He freaked out and didn't know what to say, he vanished out of the dream landing back in the Impala.

Shortly after, Y/N woke up from her sleep. She looked over and saw Castiel. Her hope of that meeting being a part of her dream went out the window. He saw what she was doing. She prayed to anyone who was listening that he didn't think anything of it.

"Morning sunshine" Dean said when he saw she was awake.

"How'd you sleep?" He asked, he could see she was disheveled.

"Fine" She replied, trying to keep it together

"Did you see anything in there, Cas?"

"Nope. Just like you said, fields." He came up with the lie on the spot, he didn't want to embarrass Y/N anymore.

"That's boring-"

"Hang on, you told him to go into my dream?" Annoyance in her voice

"It was just for fun Y/N, plus like he said, he didn't see anything" He said in defense.

"You son of a bitch" she said flicking his ear

"Ough!"

-

The rest of the drive was mainly silent. Y/N didn't talk to Dean much and didn't say a word to Castiel. She was so embarrassed, out of all the dreams he could've walked in on it was that one.

It had been reoccurring for months, she and Cass on a beach in each other's arms. Not one problem in the world, it was just them. Her crush grew stronger as the dream progressed. She had done so well hiding her feelings for the angel. Now all of that is gone because Dean is nosy.

They finally made it to their next case, pulling up to a motel parking lot. Sam and Dean went inside the office to get a room, leaving Cass and Y/N alone.

They stood outside the car waiting for them to get back. Needless to say, it was pretty damn awkward. The silence was killing Y/N, she spoke up.

"Thank you" she said

"What?" Castiel was confused

"Thanks for not telling them what you saw." she kept her head down

"Oh, you're welcome... I didn't think it was my place to tell them about your dream."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to invade your privacy" he felt so bad about this.

"It's alright. At least now you know." she sighed

"Know what?"

"You're gonna make me say it?" she looked up at him. He looked very confused

"That I like you, Castiel."

"Oh," he swallowed "I didn't want to assume anything, I had no idea about this"

"No one knew, I didn't want it getting in the way of the job. Plus I know there's no chance you feel the same way-"

"You're wrong" he cut her off

"Huh?"

"About how I feel, I do feel the same. I guess I've been keeping a secret too." He looked deep into her eyes to make sure she knew he was telling the truth. " There hasn't been a day that's gone by where I haven't thought about you, how kind and sweet you are. Not to mention how stunning you are."

Y/N thought she was still dreaming. She couldn't believe what he was saying, her heart started to race. She couldn't find any words, so she used her actions.

Her eyes flickered down to his lips back to his eyes, leaning in slow in case he wanted to back out. He matched her actions, leaning in connecting their lips. She runs her hand through his hair deepening the kiss.

"What the hell did we miss?" Dean's voice pulled them out of their daze, pulling apart from each other.

"Hey guys" she nervously smiled

"Hey" Dean mocked "Should we get you two lovebirds your own room?" he laughed

"Leave them alone" Sam said "c'mon rooms this way" he led the group towards the motel room

Dean walked in between Castiel and Y/N one arm on each of them pulling them in for an awkward hug.

"Isn't this great, my two best pals together. I can hear the wedding bells already!"

Join a tag list!

[nightlyrequiem]

You fed us 💗Hyper-fem × Valeria💗 (ty sm <3 ily) Now, would you mind sparing some

🩸Creepy-Goth × Valeria🩸?

AHHH I love the gothic subculture. I wanted to be goth when I was younger, but I was both too poor to buy any clothes and not crafty enough to make or alter my own. I also couldn't get into the music 😔

I'm not sure if you wanted a one-shot or headcanons but I feel headcanons will be best to cover everything!

Will forever have a place in my heart though <3

Valeria with a Goth S/O

A goth in a small town with a very warm climate is very uncommon. In all her thirty-eight years of living Valeria had never seen a goth person IRL. You were in such an odd place too. Well, not odd for normal-dressed dressed people. Seeing you in your long black flowing skirt with your layered black tops and tangles of jewelry caught her a little off guard. Even your makeup seemed unusual. White face with exaggerated eyeliner and contour, black lipstick. And you were just in a coffee shop ordering a coffee.

She approached you, because of course she did, she couldn't just not see what was going on. You were sat at a table by yourself with your laptop. Valeria's first ever words to you were "It's not Halloween yet." She thought it was funny, but you just gave her a singular bored look and went right back to ignoring her. You've heard it all.

Valeria eventually introduced herself like a normal person and asked genuine questions. You were so eloquent and poetic with your words. Using romantic language to explain your hobbies and interests to her.

It didn't take long for Valeria to snatch you up. She did her best to court you. Listened to all the songs and watched the movies you recommended her so she could have conversations about them with you. She even brought you 'animal' bones to add to your collection. Watching your eyes light up made her day.

Most people are weirded out when they find out you're into taxidermy and collecting bones. Why would you do that? That's so weird. You are unstable. Blah blah blah. Valeria didn't seem to mind though. Sometimes she'd even tag along when you went out in search of dead things. She'd even bring you roadkill, how romantic.

Your home is filled with cleaned bones, taxidermized animals, and dried plants. You were very proud to tell her that you cleaned some of the bones yourself. Which devolved into you explaining the process. A bucket filled with water, let it soak, add peroxide, get a toothbrush and carefully clean off any remaining skin or fur. Valeria admired how passionate you were about this.

Other people would've been weirded out. You've been compared to Leatherface and Ed Gein. It always saddened you that people couldn't see the beauty of it'. You were giving a dead thing a new purpose.

Valeria LOVED watching you get ready. Sometimes you'd have hauntingly beautiful music playing in the background or a horror movie. For obvious reasons, Valeria really liked that you weren't all that frightened about blood and gore.

Also, I definitely believe that Valeria has let you goth her up at least once. (And I think she secretly enjoyed it.)

Anyway, back to what I was saying, she likes to watch you get ready. Watching you tease and hairspray your hair was relaxing for her. Corsets, big boots, collard, ruffled blouses, long skirts. Your fingers always clad in chunky rings with bats or spiders or dark gems. Valeria proudly accompanies you in public, showing you off. Or so she thinks. You're really just running mundane errands.

Sometimes you'll say something odd or off-putting. Other people will give you weird looks but not Valeria. She adores how your mind works. She also loves how knowledgeable about bugs and spiders you are. She personally will kill spiders, but she's watched you pick up the non-venomous ones bare handed to either look at them closer or to release them. (I'm heavily projecting here because I love spiders. My favorite is the Goliath Bird Eating Spider, which lives in the rainforest areas of South America.)

She killed one in front of you and found out very fast that you did not like that. She wonders how you'd react to finding out she kills people too. With all the horror movies and books you read she'd think that you would be fine with that. You're very open and passionate about your world views though and Valeria knows you probably wouldn't be.

Like I said, you live in a warmer climate. Las Almas, Mexico to be exact. The scorching sun and all black, heavy clothes don't mix well. Valeria has taken up to carrying around icepacks and bottles of water. She also gifted you an umbrella to keep yourself shaded under1. Black of course. The canopy tapers into the outer ribs like a bat's wing.

Valeria likes it when you plan dates. It sounds cliche but you often set up dusk time picnics in the local cemetery. You're very respectful about the dead. Not trampling over the graves. Picnicking there isn't that bad anyway because the dead are probably happy to get some visitors.

Valeria loves you and all your quirks.

[twst-kumi]

Twisted Maiden [Act I] CHAPTER 10

Writing a fight scene was harder than I thought, so I focused more on [Name]'s psyche and inner feelings during the moment. The next chapter will be the conclusion of [Act I].

Warning: non-implied mention of psychological abuse

[ACT I] CHAPTER 10

Everyone watched in horror as Neige’s magic was suddenly becoming unstable. He was muttering to himself like a madman. Tears in his eyes, he laughed bitterly before crying out loud. It's in a wretched scream that Neige's appearance changed. 

“_ Why… I'm perfect… I'm always perfect… so WHYY?

_ Neige!” 

[Name] screamed as the idol’s monster roared behind him. Seeing Vil hugging her in his chest, Neige was even more furious. It was like everything was crumbling under his feet. A screech resonated in the room as everything shook like in an earthquake.  It was way scarier than she thought. Unlike in the game who showed little to nothing, this was reality. It was horrible, [Name] could feel her stomach churn at the sight. That black gooish ink that suddenly escaped through his mouth, eyes, and ears, even the nose didn’t escape as his appearance changed. He looked like a shadow of himself. His fair skin was white almost like a corpse. The young girl was terrified, she couldn’t move an inch. 

“_[Name]! Come back to us [Name] we have to go!”

Vil pulled her with him as they escaped the room. Neige screamed, annoyed by the actor's interference. Behind them, Aurelius and the others followed them. This was way different from in-game. Far from the Overblotted Neige, Vil held her face. He looked deep into her eyes, as she looked terrified. Vil couldn’t imagine how traumatizing this could be for her. She was just a magicless girl far from her home, all alone. And this happens. 

“_Look at me, it’s alright. Everything will be alright [Name]. 

_Is he going to die? If this continues…”

Vil couldn’t bring himself to answer. From his knowledge, no one ever survived their overblot. Their magic will slowly deplete and the mage will die. He just held her in his arms, unable to say anything. [Name] felt powerless, it wasn’t like in the game. In fact, it was never explicitly shown how the overblot was dealt with. 

Overblot Neige floating behind them screeched as he threw whatever was around him. As everyone was taking cover, a rock hit her head. [Name] trembled as she looked at her bloody finger. Her head was ringing. Once again she was forced to face the hard truth, this was reality. She could die here. The gears in her brain were rolling as her primal instinct kicked in. She was wondering if killing Neige wasn’t better. She didn’t know if she could save him, she wasn’t sure she would be able to, this wasn’t a game where she could die and revive infinitely. This was reality. 

“_It’s not fair… I worked so hard…”

[Name] was brought back to reality by this soft whisper. Looking around she couldn’t find the source. It sounded like a child, sobbing and alone. 

“_It’s not fair… I did everything I was asked… so love me…”

The voice came from Neige, but also not really from him. It was difficult to explain, but the young girl was sure it came from somewhere within Neige. Looking at him, [Name] took a deep breath. She couldn’t say it was impossible to save him without trying. Observing his attack, she was able to notice two things. Neige looked like the overblot monster and his attack control was mostly plant-based. 

“_Pyro….

_What?

_WE MUST USE FIRE-TYPE SPELL!! IF WE USE THEM ON THAT MONSTER BEHIND, MAYBE WE CAN SAVE NEIGE!”

Vil looked at her surprised for a moment. She looked different from the fear-stricken behavior she had just now. She didn’t just look determined, but also ruthless in a way. This [Name] looked more real and dazzling than usual. The group decided to try and follow her suggestion. It was better than doing nothing. Ambrose and Makoa stood up getting in the front to protect the children. They were more experimented than the youngster so they knew it was their duty to protect them. 

“_Alright we will try it, but if things become too dangerous. I want you all to evacuate the dorm. Do you all understand?”

They all nodded before concentrating on the fight. Under the careful pointer of the young girl, it was strangely easier. Vil had a strange feeling of familiarity but couldn’t pinpoint where. The fight was long but with the teacher as support, they almost easily destroyed the monster. The glass head exploded shards and ink flew everywhere. 

***

Everything was black and gray as she looked around. She could hear the sound of sobbing somewhere. Walking toward it, she saw a young child hiding under a tree. He was holding a teddy bear in his arms. The child had clear white skin and jet-black hair. 

“_Are you alright?”

[Name] reached to touch the child. The minute her finger touched his shoulder, a strong light surrounded her. Looking around, she saw the child watching a show on TV. The young girl now could recognize the child, Neige. His eyes shined at the scene he was focused on the show. The woman behind him smiled and laughed softly. 

“_Do you love Vil-chan that much? 

_Yes, I looove Vil-chan!! I want to become like him!

_ Fufu, I’m sure you will become like him if you work hard.

_Really?”

The woman laughed looking at the child. [Name] smiled softly before the scene changed before her. Neige, still a child was in a studio. He looked tired, ready to collapse. The man in front of him, his teacher watched him with a smile. 

“_Come on, Neige. You will never be like your Idol if you don’t work hard.

_Will Vil notice me, if I work hard?

_Of course!”

Neige’s face sunken at his word. The child was obviously tired. It was easy to see, but that teacher still pushed it through. Shaken by the man, Neige forced himself to smile. He stood up and forced himself to return to the lesson. Every bridle of memories was the same. No matter what he did, they all said the same thing. “You will be loved if you work hard.” “Vil loves hard-working people.”

She could see how distressing it was for him when he noticed Vil despised him. He worked so hard only to be met with hate. Unconsciously, they conditioned him to be starved of affection. They used it as a way to “blackmail” him into working hard. So when the long-awaited reward turned out to be contempt, Neige was lost. At first, he told himself that it was because he didn’t work hard enough. Until [Name] appeared. 

It was strange to see how others perceived her. The young girl silently cringed as Neige's voice reverbed around her. 

In Neige’s eyes, [Name] was perfect. Everything she did, she did it flawlessly and easily. He knew he fell in love at first sight with her. “Wow, she looks like a princess. So pretty.” Neige said nothing but he agreed with the student who said that during the entrance ceremony. She must have been a princess in her past life, that was his only conclusion. Neige also felt a strange connection between them. Being recognized by such a perfect soul, he felt good. He wanted nothing more than to cling to it. And so he worked hard to look like he would be a perfect boyfriend. So one day when he confessed to her, he was sure she would accept his feelings. But things didn’t develop that way, and the culprit was Vil. The moment she walked on the set, Vil’s attention was on her. Like a moth to a light, like him, Vil was attracted to [Name]. Deep down, Neige felt jealous. Unlike him, she easily entered Vil’s circle, while he worked hard to be at his level only to be met with hate. And just as easily, Vil looked perfect by her side. Their chemistry worked well and Neige felt like he was losing the place he was working hard for. He didn’t know when this happened, but he knew something inside him was twisted. 

“_It’s my fault, I wasn’t good enough… I’m sorry.”

[Name] looked at Neige, he was sobbing his face buried in his knees. The young girl walked up to him. 

“_It’s not because you are not enough that I don’t love you. I do like you, but just not like you wanted. 

_I see, do you love Vil? 

_I like him.”

Neige smiled before standing up. He hugged her slowly before burying his head on her shoulder. 

“_I’m sorry, I hurt you.” 

[Name] looked at the red apple in her hand. It was red and ripe. She wondered how an apple could look so red and perfect. Surely it wasn’t natural. She wondered if it was poisoned as she took a bite. 

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