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kidrauhlschik · 7 months ago

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Let The World Burn. - I.N.

1. The New King and Queen

In the end, he managed to forget that a king is nothing without his queen.

Part 2 will be linked in the master list above!

Pairings: Jeongin x Reader (and some love triangles among the way.) enemies to lovers, royalty au!

Warnings: ANGST, implied smut, war, aggression, anxiety, depression, death, please let me know if i miss anything... (this was heavily inspired by the song “Let the world burn” by Chris Grey.

Word Count: 3.5k

You had your destiny planned out for you since before you were born. While your mother, the queen of Eldoria, still carried you, your father, alongside the King of Rexerum, forged an alliance between their two kingdoms.

The Queen and King of Rexerum were a powerful pair, ruling their realm with vigor and passion, in slight contrast to your parents, who led their kingdom with kindness and a deep sense of unity. Rexerum was one of the strongest kingdoms of its time, invincible and unwavering. An alliance among the two kingdoms was deemed to be the best strategic decision of the millenium.

When Prince Yang Jeongin was just a year old and you were still in the womb, both kingdoms decided to unite. Once the King of Rexerum passed, it was decreed that the two of you, once of age, would marry and lead both nations to greatness.

You had always known of this, at only six years old, you received the first letter from you betrothed.

"Hello, I am Jeongin. I am looking forward to a happy future with you." Though brief and simple, the letter was deeply meaningful to a six year old's heart. To you, it felt like a fairytale coming to life. What young girl doesn’t dream of her Prince Charming?

At the age of ten, you received a gift from the prince. A locket with a letter. "Hold on to this locket, and one day you will place a petal from your wedding bouquet inside." You wore that necklace every day after you received it.

At the age of sixteen you finally knew what your future husband looked like. You received a painting that took months to arrive to your homeland. He was very attractive, with fox-like features, sharp eyes, and a cheshire smile. He looked full of life and kind, almost like a dream to your sheltered eyes.

When you turned nineteen, you finally received the final letter. It was from Jeongin, announcing that his father passed away due to an unexpected illness. He didn't explain much aside from the fact that his father was bedridden for weeks before he finally succumbed to a sickness that you couldn't quite understand. The last words of the letter being, "See you soon, my love."

Despite the dire circumstances, you couldn't help but feel excitement. A queen of a country and a bride on the same day seemed overwhelming but very exciting to you. The roses that sat in every corner of your room seemed brighter all of the sudden, like it was their own farewell to you.

Being sheltered from the world, due to your parents putting everything on the alliance, you were not allowed to leave the castle unless it was absolutely necessary. Only learning the world through stories and teachings. As much as you mourned you father-in-law-to-be, it meant the start of your new life.

Your mother, in her stunning blue and black dress, bid you farewell in tears, wishing you the best and telling you that if everything goes well, this would be the last time you'd see her, because after your boat sailed, your duties as princess of Eldoria, would be nothing in comparison to your rights as the queen of Rexerum. Her crown shined under the sun, made from pure silver, and decorated by sapphires and diamonds, so intricate and delicate, it made you wonder what the crown you would wear in Rexerum would look like.

Your father told you to be strong, he was never a man of affection, but he held you close and whispered, "Be careful my daughter." Before you left your homeland and parents.

On the sail to Rexerum, you held on to your locket that still sat around your neck. Nervous and anxious, but at least you knew that Jeongin would be waiting for you at the end of the road. You loved him, despite never meeting him, but maybe you were living in a fairytale that you never wanted to reach the end of.

The ship took four days to arrive to Rexerum, the only person that kept you company was your advisor and best friend Lee Felix, who kept your spirits up anytime you felt hopeless or homesick. He was your rock. "You are going to be an amazing queen your highness." Was his go-to phrase, as you rolled your eyes at the term, 'your highness.' He was your best friend, and you've told him that the formalities could be dropped behind closed doors, but at this point, he was saying such things with no purpose but to get under your skin.

When you finally arrived to the foreign kingdom, a crowd awaited you. The citizens of this new country, welcomed you with open arms, all hoping to catch a glimpse of their queen-to-be.

The man that held his arm out to you at the dock was not your future husband, much to your disappointment. You understood why Jeonjin couldn't be there though. His father had just passed, and now he was preoccupied with the arrangements of the wedding and coronations of the both of you. He is a king afterall now, is what you told yourself.

The horses leading your carriege couldn't be any slower. You were practically shaking with anxiety and excitement to finally fulfill what you were born to do.

However, when you finally arrived to the castle, you were caught off guard. You were raised in a palace full of light, flowers surrounded every wall, your followers would come and go as they pleased in order to meet the royal family, the air was happy and free. You couldn't help but notice the stark differences in your new home, surrounded by soldiers and walls. The castle seemed gloomy and even the servants would keep their head down and wouldn't dare to make eye contact with you.

It caught you off guard when you were lead through the back entrance by soldiers who only addressed you as, "My grace."

They led you to a room on the third floor in the place, the room a bit bigger than your old one at home.

"Your belongings will arrive shortly my grace, please make yourself comfortable and enjoy your stay," The guard still wouldn't make eye-contact with you, which made you slightly uncomfortable because you were raised with the belief that every person in your country is your family. You stand for the people and someone not seeing you as such, is very out of your comfort zone.

A day went by, and you still hadn't met your husband-to-be.

"It feels stuffy in here." Felix said, as he opened the windows of your new bedroom.

"I'm sure this is just a spare room, once I move to Jeongin's room, it'll be better." You said as your new ladies prepared your wedding dress. A white, flowy dress with loose sleeves, and beautiful embroidery awaited you. One of your ladies, Rose, if you remembered correctly, was putting your hair up with a flower shaped clip. She didn't say much, aside from agreences.

"I hope so, because this place feels depressing." Felix looked at your reflection on the mirror as you sighed out loud. "I know, but maybe the prince is preparing something special." Rose's movements halted for a second at your words, you only realized because of the eye contact she made with you through the mirror before focusing on you hair again. She seemed worried or maybe hesitant, but then again, this was a huge shift in the kingdom so it was expected.

That night is when you were to walk down the aisle, yet you couldn't help but adore this new sense of freedom you received. No longer under your parents rule, but under your own. The servants wouldn't say much to you aside from telling you about your itinerary. Lunch with the queen, dressing ceremony, walking down the aisle, consummation, and living the rest of your life with the King.

You woke up the morning of your wedding feeling a sense of wonder, your luncheon dress was ready, sky blue, long, and made from silk, was prepared for your meeting with the queen, but since your anxiety wouldn't let you rest prior to the lunch, you decided to wonder the garden.

The garden was the only place that reminded you of home. Roses and daisies surrounded the area. Wisteria flowers decorated the fences and walls. The place felt serene and free in comparison to the gray walls that surrounded the palace.

That morning, you took advantage of your new found freedom and asked Felix to accompany you in search for your wedding bouquet.

You roamed around the pond on the west side of the palace, finding red and white flowers to build your wedding bouquet. Felix made you a flower crown, made from peonies and jasmines, as you hopped around the area boasting about your future filled with excitement.

Felix feigned happiness, although he wished that in another world, another life, his status would be higher, or yours lower, so he could maybe, possibly dream of a world that you would see him as more than a friend or advisor. He was happy for you nevertheless.

You were unaware that through a window on the fourth floor of the palace, your future husband was observing you. "Foolish." He whispered under his breath as the arms of his beloved enveloped him from behind in a warm embrace.

"Let her be." Rose said as she graced her lips against his neck, his body craved her warmth and chased her as she pulled away.

"I don't want to. I don't know her. I have never spoken with her. I do not understand why my parents would tie me down to someone that they didn't even know. What if her intentions are misconstructed?" Jeongin turned to Rose, who was merely covered by his robe.

"Innie, you're a king, your ties are more than trust, they are for the good of our country." Rose was always so good to him, so understanding.

"If I am the king, why can I not choose my queen? I would choose you a million times over in a heartbeat my love." He approached her as she sat on the bed.

"You know it's harder than that my love." She leaned back as Jeongin hovered over her, "Can we at least be together one more time before this afternoon?" He asked as his hands roamed her body, his hands traced her waist, her hips, and until they finally landed on her thighs, pulling one of her legs around him, "I just want to feel you again." He whispered into her ear as he pulled the robe back and felt his lover crumble with his every move.

You held you self-made bouquet with pride. You looked beautiful, all in preparation to meet your husband. You stood behind the doors of the coronation room. The ceremony was smaller than you expected, more a formality than anything. In your country, wedding was a celebration, a birth of a new family, a new root in a never ending garden. This was different so far, after being in Rexerum for two days, you began to notice the differences. The lines between royalty and common folk were very clear in your new nation.

Nevertheless, you waited for the priest to announce your arrival.

Once he uttered the words, "And now we welcome the princess of Eldoria and the new queen of Rexerum to our country,-" Guards opened the grand doors, and you began walking down the aisle.

Despite your nervousness, you managed to look in Jeongins direction. He was looking down, almost seeming avoidant.

When you reached the end of the aisle, you tried to offer him a smile, but he was avoiding your gaze with everything he had in him. Once you reached his side, the two of you looked forward as the priest continued the ceremony.

Eventually, he made the two of you turn to each other for the vows, once Jeongin finally made eye contact with you, he couldn’t lie to himself. You were beautiful, your eyes had a light in them that he had only seen once, in the eyes of his lover. A face so innocent, that anything could break the wonder. Your dress was beautifully embroidered to represent your old country, flowers laced the fabric so subtly. A flower crown sat on top of your head so delicately, made for you by the hands of someone that loved you so well.

Yet he couldn’t help himself but to look at you with resentment, no emotion behind his brown eyes, his jaw locked and stiff, he was looking down at you and all of the sudden you felt small beneath his gaze.

You are a princess and a queen-to-be, feeling small was something you weren’t used to. Yet, beneath the king of Rexerum, you felt like nothing but a peasant. The man you built in your delusions was not present in your wedding.

"I stand before you, as the king of the great country of Rexerum, bound by duty. I vow to honor this union. May we find harmony in our shared path. I, King Yang Jeongin, take you, YN LN, to be my wife. I offer you my crown, my kingdom, my protection, my name, and my duty. I promise to fulfill the obligations of this union, as dictated by tradition, and to honor our commitment in the eyes of our realm. May our paths intertwine until…” he takes a deep breath, “until the end of our days." After his vows, he slips a ring so shiny that it could blind you, onto the ring finger on your left hand.

After hearing his vows and reading the room, you felt truly out of place. Nervousness seeps into your bones, a feeling you’d never felt before. With a shaky breath, you let your eyes wonder Jeongin's surroundings. You spot his mother, Queen Dowager, standing off to the side, poised and proper as all queens should be.

You try to calm yourself to keep face, but then you spot your advisor, Felix, he looks somber, almost as if he could read your thoughts. He gives you a small nod of encouragement, so you force yourself to collect your thoughts and turn back to your husband-to-be, and put all of your royal training and preparations to utter the next words.

"I, YN LN, humbly accept the honor of becoming your queen. With reverence for the history and the future of our kingdom, I vow to stand by your side in prosperity and adversity. I promise to carry the mantle of royalty with dignity and grace, to support you in your reign, and to cherish our realm and its people. May our union illuminate the shadows and strengthen our bond as we journey through life together, as partners and sovereigns." The shortened version of your vows is all you could muster. Of course this is an arranged marriage, but you thought that he at least cared about you. He was the one that had been writing you letters for so long, you wondered if the same man that stood before you was remotely the same person you imagined at all.

Once you slipped the ring on his finger, the two of you turn back to the priest and get on your knees.

"May the blessings of the divine rest upon this union of hearts and kingdoms. As you, King Jeongin, and you, Queen YN, embark on this journey together, may your love be steadfast and your commitment unwavering. May wisdom guide your decisions, compassion soften your hearts, and unity strengthen your reign. Let peace reign within your palace and prosperity within your lands. May your union be a beacon of hope and inspiration to all. In the presence of all who witness, I pronounce you King and Queen, bound in sacred matrimony. May your days be filled with joy, and may your love endure for all time." As the priest finished his speech, you felt someone take off the flower crown felix had made you and replace it with a weight on the top of your head. A golden crown embellished with rubies and pearls sits on the top of your head, almost the opposite of the silver crown that decorated your mother’s head on the day of your departure.

The guests stand and clapped for their new rulers. Everyone of them bowing as you and Jeongin made your way out of the room. The second you step through the doors, Jeongin leaves your side, walking down the other side of the hallway.

"Hey!" You call out before your mind catches up with you. He halts in his steps and doesn't even bother to turn around to look at you. You're not even sure why you called out to him. It's foolish.

"What's going on? Have I misunderstood this union? Why are you upset?" With that, he turns around, unmoving from his spot.

"I am upset because my life was dictated for me before I could speak. This union is for convenience. Do not think of it as more than that." With those words he continues to walk down the hallway, indifferent, leaving you confused and distraught.

He leaves you with your thoughts, he was a man that you didn't know. Your husband, a man that had a whole life before you, and apparently wasn't willing to share his story. You begin to wonder if those letters you received were written by him in the first place.

When the time for the consummation ceremony came, you were scared and nervous. Being a virgin and unaware made you feel small among all of the things that were belittling you on the same day. You did not feel like a queen. You felt as if the world was shaking beneath you. Too fast and too big, the world is unforgiving, and you are coming to learn that very quick.

The night, began before you could collect your thoughts. After being led back in to your room, you were rushed into taking off your dress for a much simpler attire, just covered by a robe, delicate and embroidered, you were lead to a room that had sheer curtains surrounding it. You knew that there were numerous people surrounding you. A priest, the court, and the royal family were all observing you, alone.

Your nerves were off the roof. You felt uncomfortable, anxious and scared. How could you feel okay, surrounded by strangers observing you? As you let your your skin rise and your body tense up, you heard a sound, a distant door.

Before long, Jeongin came through the door of the open bedroom. You backed away from where you were standing out of caution.

He held his hands out and kept his face serene. "I am sorry about earlier, but this is our duty as rulers." He said as he approached you. You knew better. He meant well, so you allowed his approaches to continue, unmoving.

As he sat face-to-face with you, you began to really see him. Not in a painting, or in a story. You saw the human being you were intended to marry before you were born.

His sharp features seemed much softer up close. His eyes were soft, admiring, and glowing. When he put his hands around your waist, he was careful, almost as if he could break you.

"You are my queen. Only me and you matter at this moment." He said as he softly held your face with his left hand so you couldn't look at the crowd, forcing you to only focus on him.

With his right hand, he pushed the silk of your robe back, holding your waist. He guided your face towards his own, staring into your eyes. This is the Jeongin you always imagined, and he was finally there for you.

He noticed your hesitation and fear by your shaky form. He pulled your body towards him. His warmth felt strange as you had never been close to someone before then. His sharp gaze softened. His cheshire smile became soft and tame. He felt safe, and even though the safety was only fleeting, you held on to it at the moment.

"It's okay." He whispered as the both of you were inches apart.

You took the initiative and moved forward, grazing his lips. He made the final move and locked his lips with yours. The kiss was soft, as if he was aware to be gentle with you. His touches were gentle and careful. He made you feel safe.

He backed you up to the bed, and hovered over you. His hand reached the strap of your nightgown before he paused, "May I?" You managed to nod despite being flustered. He lowered the gown and once you were exposed, he took you in.

He appreciated every part of you and kissed everywhere he could. He made the consummation feel easy. Although you were uncomfortable at first, Jeongin pulled every stop to make sure you were always comfortable and under pleasure.

The experience made you confused.

After being so gentle with you, he had to care for you. Right?

A/N: This was supposed the be larger but I will break it into parts instead. Thank you for reading! I will make a taglist if enough people care lol

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cloudywriting05 · 10 months ago

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don't delete the kisses

chapter two.

Coriolanus stared at the back of her head. Was he angry? Intrigued? Upset? All the above? He didn’t know. All he knew was there were two ways to go about it, to have her under his arms, or have her go under. Coriolanus wasn’t insecure about his intelligence up until her arrival. How was it possible she was able to be smarter than both him and his father? It was an insult to the Snow family name for her to be in the same room as him.

He hated her already. He didn’t care that she was painfully gorgeous, or that she seemed sweeter than fruit, easy going or any of the above. If she was at the academy, his entire plan and legacy is threatened. No doubt on earth she would get the Plinth’s prize, absolutely no doubt. Coriolanus needed that money more than life itself. He refused to let a scummy district girl who bought her way into the Capitol take it from him either.

His irritated thoughts were cut short by the sound of the bell, concluding the class. Coriolanus remained seated, eyes pinned to the back of the girl's head while she packed her book and pencils away hurriedly. The bodies of his classmates rushing towards the exit, he continued to glare, seething in his seat, wondering what he could do to get her under control in some way. The girl seemed to have finally have her stuff arranged, tugged at her skirt, and leaving her seat. Coriolanus, now standing, was still glaring at her; she now noticed. What’s this guy’s problem?she wondered to herself as she continued up the stairs.

“You alright there, blondie?” she asked, stopping at the start of Coriolanus’s row. They stood across from each other in silence for a moment.

Coriolanus, taken aback, admitted to himself she was even prettier up-close, “I’m fine, did I scare you?”

“No, you didn’t. Just try not to stare at me like I stole something from you, and if you are gonna stare– say hi… or something?” she smiled, turning her foot to walk away.

“What’s your name?” Coriolanus blurted out, his own way of getting her to stay.

“What’s yours?”

“Coriolanus Snow,” he said proudly.

“Ah, so it was you at the top of the academic list– right after me, at-least.”

Coriolanus’s forced smile dropped, instantly angered by the snarky statement at the end, “I guess I’ll just have to learn from you, ma’am.”

“Ma’am? I don’t even look old.”

“Debatable.” Coriolanus snapped back, earning a gasp from her.

“Do you have a problem, Snow?” she asked, the anger in her tone was apparent. She took steps closer towards him, refusing to break eye contact. She raised her head to look Coriolanus in the eye: her nerve impressing him.

“Not necessarily, doll, just stay out of my way. I don’t really like beggars or district scum; it doesn't matter how pretty or smart they look, or even how rich they appear to be.”

“I don’t necessarily like stuck-up schoolboys with bad bleach jobs but here I am,” she laughed.

She placed her hand on his arm, sliding it down at an excruciatingly slow pace. “Your anger is reasonable, Coriolanus, but I simply refuse to apologise for being better than you. Second place sucks but are you seriously gonna punish me because you aren’t smart enough?”

“Second place isn’t in my vocabulary, beautiful; I would say whatever floats your boat but I’m not sure if you district people have ever seen water…” he snickered, looking down at the girl.

She let out a short laugh and rolled her eyes, “Funny one, idiot. You can make fun of me for being from the districts, but you will always be second place to me, a district girl. Hey, at least it’s proof that people in the Capitol can’t buy everything they need– like in your case, braincells.”

“You can charm your way up the top with your pretty eyes, but you will never be Capitol. Never.”

“That shit doesn’t bother me, why would I wanna be grouped with you? Fucking dingus.”

Coriolanus, fuming, watched his new enemy storm off.

Coriolanus spent the remainder of his lunch scolding himself for arguing with her. How could he let his jealousy take over like that, and insult her? A part of him was satisfised, yet he felt like a phony. He called her district scum while he didn’t have a penny to his name, it was ironic. He didn’t have a clue on earth was he going to repair the relationship between them, or if he necessarily wanted to. He wondered briefly if it was best that they stayed enemies and ruthlessly competed for the Plinth Prize.

He walked to his final class, Literature, continuing to ponder about the girl. He slid through the door with his head down.

“Coriolanus Snow, better late than never.” Professor remarked, Coriolanus shot his head up towards him.

“Sorry, I was just putting stuff– “

“It’s alright, Snow. Take a seat.”

Coriolanus breathed a sigh of relief and looked for a seat, his eyes grazing over the girl he’d been losing his mind over for the past hour. She was glaring at him from the front, she rolled her eyes and turned to face the front again. She sat beside two girls Coriolanus could not name, and in front of Sejanus, who was staring at her as well. What’s that dumb-ass staring at? Coriolanus thought.

The Professor cleared his throat, “As you all know your grades in this class are vital to pass your final year. The assignment for this semester is slightly different from others we’ve done in the past. I’ll assign you a partner, your jobs are to find a novel that’s been adapted into a movie. You are both going to analyse and submit a document detailing what the difference are between both works, and how it positions the audience to feel and think.”

Coriolanus sighed eternally. Partnered work? Sounds like hell, he thought to himself. He hadn’t watched many movies due to the lack of money to rent or buy any. He’d seen a few as a child but could not remember the last movie he’d watched, before his parents’ demises, at-least.��

“I’ve already organised your pairs, please come forth when you hear your name,” the professor requested, taking a seat on his desk, “Coriolanus Snow?”

First, as always. Coriolanus shot up from his chair and made his towards the professor, everyone erupted into pointless conversation.

“Yes, Professor?”

“I’ve paired you with the recent transfer, you are the closest to her in academic terms– “

“Sorry? Sir, that is a reason to not pair me with her,” Coriolanus protested. His plan was to aim for a grade higher than the girl, not have the same grade as her.

“Snow, I don’t like your tone, neither do I like your back chat. I like you, don’t bug me. Grab your task sheet, collect the girl, and find space in the library and begin your planning. Thank you.” the professor hissed, not raising his eyes off the papers in front of him.

Coriolanus stood there, stunned. He was going to be stuck with the district girl for weeks completing this assignment. Was this the worst situation? No. He had her to herself, there was still a chance to get on her good side. The idea of being paired with her shifted in his head, he was now eager.

#the hunger games #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #ballads of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #coriolanus smut #coriolanus x oc

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ripromulus · 1 year ago

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for non soulfire watchers here is what the team is looking like rn:

> Tired Grinding

> Some Luck!

Luck Gets Nerfed

Someone Rage Quits

> Has To Start Over Again

> Their farm is trampled

> They replant

> It gets trampled again

> Eats whatever

> Good News!

The Family Dog is finally being a Team Player.

now only taunts the other dogs over the yard to defend his team or to get an advantage

doesn’t go into fights he knows he’ll loose

doesn’t stop moving, doesn’t stop guarding

> their farmer gets a day off!

> their farmer repeatedly dies

> Captain has sick tunes they listen to during boat rides

> Morale Boost! Trousers arrives!

They have a pretty base now and a cute little one eyed baby.

They immediately imprint on it and get severe separation anxiety.

The Family Dog has started calling two of them kids.

> Morale Decreased!

The number of players waking up consistently decreases, they’re not awake at the same time and a War is coming.

they are behind and lack resources

> One of them is held hostage and gets killed

Her body and items she grinded for are burnt.

> Morale is low…again

> Tired Grinding

> Only 3 of them wake up for the war.

Their flimsy “No Harm Eggs” talks between other teams was ignored.

They loose, horribly.

Now they have team up with their “enemy”

> Morale is in hell, it’s probably in the 9th circle now, frozen in a lake of ice. Cold, just like the day they first got to Purgatory

> OH LOOK! the engineer made a normal mob farm that works.

#qsmp team soulfire #qsmp

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one-idea · 7 months ago

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I honestly find it kind of funny that when you read the novels for Ace we find out that Deuce left home because of having bad grades in medical school and instead was wanting to be a writer by adventuring out to sea. Yet in some twist of fate he ends up being a doctor anyway

Honestly I have mixed feelings about this.

Because it is both funny but also sad and sweet at the same time.

He was a medical school drop out. He left his family, his past, his name, even his face behind because of the disappointment his family had in him and his dream. I’m sure he has a lot of hurt feelings tied to the field of medicine. Especially if his family were doctors, they don’t seem to be the kindest people to him.

I’m sure he left because he felt he could never measure up. He could never match them in skill. Never live up to the expectations and never be excepted for dreaming something different.

So he leaves it all behind to chase his dream.

And almost immediately dies.

If Ace hadn’t arrived of Sixis could Duece have found a way off?

But that doesn’t matter because Ace comes. And sure it’s a rough start but in the end Deuce leaves with the person who will change his life (whether you see them as romantic or not Ace changed his life forever) even giving Masked Deuce his new name. And he gives him the opportunity to chase his dream. To seek adventure and write his novel. And Deuce has to be so excited

But being a pirate is dangerous. People get hurt. And suddenly Deuce is in a position where instead of knowing the least about Medicine he knows the most. And that has to be terrifying for him. He’s a medical school DROP OUT he shouldn’t be trusted the patients! And yet here Ace is trusting him with his life and the life of their crew.

It has to be equal parts touching and terrifying to have that trust. Trust he feels like he can’t live up to. His family never would have believed in him like this, and yet they were also right not to do so. (In his point of veiw) a drop out should have patients.

Yet when they join the Whitebeards he is put under Marco in the medical division. If he was truly a failure as a medic they would have moved him. So either his skills improved with the Spades to the point where he only needed some guidance from the Whitebeards or he was never truly a failure he felt he was in the first place. And maybe he just needed a different environment to learn in. Maybe the Whitebeards were better at teaching then his previous school. But either way there has to be so much resentment and self doubt in that field.

But also he left being a doctor behind to be an author. It’s his dream. Yet he puts it on the back burner for Ace. For their crew(s). I’m sure he still writes but that’s not his title on the boat. Imagine if Zoro’s goal was to be the world’s greatest swords man but he was known as the watchman because of how much time he spent in the crows nest. If that’s the only way the crew referred to him. How enemy’s saw him. Not the swordsman of his dreams but the job he did for the crew. It’s hard to sacrifice for the people around you. Especially with something that Deuce must have trauma with.

It’s so fascinating and I wish more people would dig into him. He’s a great doctor. But his history with it and his conflicting dream make him fascinating to me.

#one piece #masked deuce #ace x deuce #acedeuce #portagas d. ace #fire fist ace #one piece ace

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boredwench · 5 months ago

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I have way too many fanfics going inside my head and all of them are about Lin BWHAHAH - I’m way too shy to post any of my AUs and headcanons here but I’ll get this little one out because I’m obsessed. I yap a lot and I need an outlet for this so forgive me for any typos, run-on sentences whatnot hehehe. Lin has a son from Tenzin named Qiu. He’s five years older than Jinora, an earthbender married to a lovely non-bender woman named Ai and he has a little daughter named Poppy, after his great-grandmother.

For obvious reasons, Tenzin doesn’t know about Qiu. Because of the strains of her work (and life in general), Lin didn’t know she was pregnant until she was on a spontaneous vacation with Bumi (he practically dragged her to the boat; Lin refused to take her mandatory vacation time and the previous Chief - not Toph - hired reinforcements to get his protege to relax). Mid-tirade, Lin crumbles to the ground and soon enough when help gets to their cabin, Bumi is carrying his squalling nephew, shell shocked. When Qiu arrived, Lin’s gray world suddenly turned technicolored. Qiu filled up a massive hole in Lin’s heart that her family carved out. Ever since that day, it was Lin and Qiu with fun Uncle Bumi on the side.

Qiu Beifong though, wasn’t a name that you would hear in the papers or from the mouths of the common. If you asked a random civilian for a Qiu Beifong or for Lin Beifong’s son, they would either be confused or laugh at your face. For the first few weeks of his life, Lin was an anxious mess. She didn’t know she was pregnant so what if something is wrong with the baby? What if her drinking, occasional cigar, and ramen noodle diet makes him sick or gives him colic? Spirits did she give her son colic? A myriad of scenarios went through Lin’s head and all of them made her want to puke. She wasn’t even thinking of Tenzin when she had Bumi register her son’s name as Qiu Wang. All she was thinking about was the hostage situations she didn’t want her son to go through with the Beifong name. Lin had too many enemies and too much press on her back and she didn’t want that for her son. Lin gave her son everything her mother didn’t give her, and one of them was peace.

Qiu is a mama’s boy and the complete opposite of Lin: he is hyperactive, very affectionate, and is kind of like his grandpa Aang reincarnated. Qiu grew up to become an Architect and would work with his Uncle Baatar in Zaofu. Qiu and Lin are very close. While Lin is strict, she still makes sure Qiu knows how much she loves him.

#lin beifong #atla #tlok #oc

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whxre-bxby · 2 years ago

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Fanfiction further down! Scroll!

Recom Mansk x Recom f. Y/N

Masterlist

"Greeting Death With A Smile"

Summary: Mansk is present on the boat for the last fight against Sully and Neytiri. He gets wounded and thinks he’s going to die alone. Luckily you find him in time, but you don’t know if it’s already too late.

WARNINGS: uhm TEARS, ANGST, Death, Blood, Violence tiniest bit of sad fluff, I’M BALLING MY EYES OUT WHILE WRITING THIS I THINK THAT SAYS ENOUGH

(Like, read at your own risk cuz I’m in pain I miss him sm)

Word Count: 4102

If u wanna feel even sadder i recommend you listen to (When it‘s cold I‘d like to die alone) it helped me cry my eyes out to the point that the tears burned my skin :)

Quaritch was giving instructions while, Lyle, Z-Dog, Prager, Mansk, and I stood close and listened. We were the only recom’s that I knew were alive. All the others had since been killed but since new things always kept happening, we couldn’t let our guard down and there was no time to mourn.

I had to run past Ja who lay lifeless on deck and it made me feel sick. I felt the urge to at least pull his body somewhere else but I knew we didn’t have time.

We had two of Jake’s kids hostage here with us and the Colonel was trying to get him to turn himself in for his daughters.

I sighed, not knowing whether I would live to see another day. I wasn’t even sure why I was doing this or whether I thought it was right. But as a marine, you’re taught to listen to orders, even if you don’t agree with them. Listen and obey. That’s how you become a good soldier. And definitely never doubt your superior because they know what they’re doing.

Deep down, I did doubt it though. Not just Quaritch’s plan but this whole mission. Our existence. It was all still a big mess to me.

“Hold fire!” Quaritch orders as we watch him and Spider dive back into the water.

“He’s comin’.” he added, turning to me and another human soldier.

I pin my ears back and hold back a shiver from the cold. My clothes were wet but ignored the feeling and focused on holding my weapon ready.

“Let’s get this guy.” Quaritch said like it were the easiest thing in the world. My ears perk up. I listen even though I doubt. Even though I don’t understand, I listen.

“It’s what we came here for.” the Colonel keeps talking, looking at everyone around him.

I notice how all of us are no longer fully with him. Prager and I exchange looks but with no expression because we are both in denial of our doubts and worries. Pretending they aren’t real.

Even Lyle doesn’t nod along to his superior's words like he usually would. He would always back up everything Quaritch said but now he just stared at the ground, holding his gun and letting the Colonel’s words go in one ear and out the other.

Mansk looks at us and I can tell he has the same problem. We aren’t convinced but what option do we have? We’ve already done so much harm here. Once again. There’s no turning back because we’re marked down as the enemy for every single Na’vi on this planet.

We aren’t wanted here so we must listen.

To be completely honest, when I look at Quaritch one may think he knows what he’s doing. But I also occasionally catch a glimpse of doubt in his eyes. As if he weren’t sure why he would want to do this. Maybe he isn’t. I know damn well most of us hate the humans we used to be but we can’t do anything about it.

He claps his hands together and his confident expression returns. He tells us to take our places and I look at the ground before going to cover my area of ground.

We waited in silence for Sully to arrive and within the next few minutes, something exploded on the top deck. Prager and Z-Dog ran up the steps while I stayed on the lower deck with the rest of the team which is also where our hostages were.

My ears flick in multiple directions as I hear screams and I see Neytiri land on her Ikran. Her presence here meant death to many. Perhaps it would be me too.

Bodies start falling and I run over to pull a few soldiers out of the fire. Quaritch retreated to take cover close to where the two kids were while Lyle and Mansk continued to cover their ground.

Someone shouted ‘Eyes up’ and I saw Jake and Neytiri land on the lower deck now. That meant they wiped out the entire top deck already.

I see Lyle and Mansk still standing and am about to go to them when I hear a scream of agony behind me. An injured soldier covered in flames. Without thinking, I run to him, pulling him away from the oil-covered metal pole and helping him put out the fire on his leg. He’s missing his other one.

He lets his body fall back and sighs a little in relief, seeming to not feel the pain of his missing leg due to shock. I know he won’t make it through this. There is no one here to help. Everyone is trying to live.

Quickly, I turn around and that’s when I see Lyle get pushed over the rail by Jake who turns in the opposite direction of me. Mansk is no longer in sight.

I leave the wounded man behind because he passed out and I wouldn’t be able to help him anyway. I also just happened to care slightly more for Mansk and Lyle.

I jog over to a large red metal pole, keeping my gun raised an looking around. Maybe a recom was injured and needed aid or perhaps I could spot either Jake or Neytiri and get at least one of them down.

I press myself against the side of the column, looking over my shoulder at the rail which Lyle fell down. His body looked limp as it fell, making my gut wrench. Probably nothing I could save.

Suddenly I hear a distant shout.

“Y/N!” the voice of the Colonel echoes through the blood-stained walls of the ship.

I flinch and just as I go to turn around, my knee is kicked in and I’m hit in the head with the base of a gun.

I fall forwards and my body summersaults over a rail. My movements stop for a split second until my weight rolls to one side and suddenly I’m falling again. I land on the hard ground with a big thud which sends immense waves of pain through my body.

In a state of shock, I look up at the hole I was pushed in but no one is standing there anymore.

Slowly I get up, holding my side. I can’t move properly. I think I broke or at least cracked a rib. The lights in here are broken and since only a few work, it’s very dim.

I look up and notice I’m not alone.

Mansk couldn’t comprehend what happened fast enough. His heart dropped when Jake pointed the gun at him but luckily he ran out of ammo. In the next second, he lost his balance and hit his head on a metal pole next to him, falling over it. He saw Jake take his gun and launch it away before his upper body started tilting back.

His upper body was resting over what seemed to be a dent in the ground but as he slowly turned in pain, he realised it went further down. Mansk felt as though he was slowly falling through the ground but he couldn’t prevent it because his eyes kept blacking out. He saw how he slowly fell into darkness and his feet lifted into the air, falling with him into the void.

The sound of gunshots and shouts was distant now and he lay at the bottom of the hole he didn’t see before. Light reflected inside from the fire above but it wasn’t strong enough to help him see.

He groaned in pain, slowly lifting his injured body off the ground and pushing himself against a wall so that he was sitting upright. Mansk saw his shades on the ground next to him and noticed they were broken.

He once made a joke that he would die with them when Lyle teased him about constantly wearing them. Maybe it was time.

His head would drop in the direction the ship tilted as he lay limp against the cold metal.

Mansk shouted for help, calling out the names of the people he thought might still be around but there was no answer. No one heard him.

His vision became blurry and when he looked down he saw his abdomen was covered in a small puddle of blood. Whether it was his he didn’t know.

But he wasn’t afraid he would die. This is how he imagined it. He knew very well that one doesn’t mourn death in the military on Pandora. Mansk was ready to close his eyes for the last time and die alone, in peace. After all, it was his fate. Even though he hadn’t accomplished his mission, this is what always awaited him.

He lost track of time and seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness every few minutes. What woke him up was a scream which came from right above him and a thud of a body which landed a few feet from Mansk. His eyes managed to open and he saw a blue figure. Blood pumped through his veins as the feeling of fear returned again but once he noticed the U.S uniform, he dropped his head back in relief. It wasn’t Jake or Neytiri.

I whine out in agony as I straighten my posture and see Mansk sitting and leaning against a wall. My face brightens and for a second I forget about the pain.

“Mansk!” I shout, leaning back down on all fours and hugging my waist while looking up at him. He lifts his head and his eyes widen when he sees me.

“Y/N?” he asks, but his voice sounds weak. I smile, feeling relieved he’s alive and that I’m not alone.

“Oh thank god, I thought everyone was-” I say, crawling over to him before my hand comes in contact with a small puddle of fluid. I want to shake if off my skin but when I glance down I notice its colour. It’s not water, it’s blood. And it’s not mine but his.

My heart sinks when my eyes move higher up Mansk’s body, noticing how his blood has drenched the clothes on his stomach. When I look up at him he’s gazing at me with half-lidded eyes. Just above them, a new trail of blood is forming and slowly drizzling down the side of his face.

“Oh, Mansk…” I whisper, ignoring my own pain and kneeling next to him. His eyes follow me as I move around him and he looks weak and exhausted. I don’t think he can move much more than his head.

“Where are you hurt?” I ask, gently lifting his arm to check whether the blood is coming from his side.

“I don’t know…” he whispers, barely moving his lips or jaw. His eyes occasionally close while I apply pressure to check where the pain is coming from.

I hear him hiss through clenched teeth and I gently return it to its previous position. “Sorry,” I whisper.

He breathes heavily through his nose, looking down at himself. I notice how the blood doesn’t seem to stop.

“Come on, we need to get you back.” I softly say, lifting his arm over my shoulder. But I didn’t know how to get out of here, I was just hoping that the darkness would lead to a door which could lead us outside.

“No.” he breathes out and his body tenses. I freeze my movements and look at him.

“You can’t stay here Mansk.” I say, trying to motivate him to see if he can get up.

“I can’t move.” he whispers, biting down on his teeth as he tries to pull his arm from my shoulder.

“Y/N, I can’t feel my legs…” His jaw trembles and his voice breaks a little. His words go straight to my heart, seeming to tear it in two.

I look away, furrowing my eyebrows together while I convince myself that there must be another way. Quickly, in hopes of helping him, I lean over his body and apply pressure on his big wound to try and stop the bleeding.

I feel the corners of my eyes sting and my nose itch. The common sign that showed me I was about to tear up.

Mansk sighed and when I looked up at him he was softly smiling at me. It wasn’t a happy smile, but an appreciative one.

Mansk knew that what you were doing wouldn’t save him, but your attempt made him smile. Knowing you cared enough about him not to leave him behind warmed his heart as it slowed its beating.

“Stop looking at me like that, I’m gonna get you out of here.” I say, having to look away because otherwise, I might just break down. But my words didn’t seem to convince Mansk at all. They just refreshed his fading smile.

Even if we would somehow make it out of this room, our chances of dying were probably worse on deck because Jake and Neytiri were still there. And if they weren’t, there was no way we could get off this ship. We were both too wounded to fly our Ikrans. It wouldn’t work.

With the next inhale he tensed up and coughed while I steadied him and kept him sitting upright. His legs were motionlessly laying on the floor in front of him while his chest heaved. I noticed him cough out a few drops of blood which is what did it for me. Mansk wasn’t doing well and my hopes of him surviving were dying out.

“Thank you…” he whispered as his cough finally retreated. I look up at him through glossy eyes, wondering what he meant. I wasn’t going to let him see me cry, because crying would be acknowledging that he wasn't going to make it. As long as I held them back, there was still hope in me.

“I thought I’d-” he said, being cut off by gasping for air. “...die alone.”

A smile formed on his lips again as his eyes remained fixed on my face.

Mansk knew all recom’s were something close to friends but he didn’t think he ever had anyone close enough to him to stay with him through his last moments. He expected to be left behind somewhere, injured and no longer deemed as useful.

“Come on Mansk, don’t give up on me.” I say, my forced calm voice breaking as I feel my bottom lip begin to quiver.

“I’m glad you’re here…” he struggled to say, forcing the words out of his pained chest while keeping his faint smile. It was slowly fading again.

I gasp, pressing my lips together to not lose it. I reach for his limp and blood-stained hand and hold it between both of mine. Feeling how cold it is has me fighting back tears.

I shiver from shock and pain. My broken rib was poking me and it hurt like hell.

"I can't save us." I whisper to myself, my voice trembling.

Suddenly, I feel how my legs are wetted and I look down, dreading to see blood but this time it is water. The room was slowly tilting to one side and the water was flowing in from the other side of the room. Mansk had noticed it too.

“You-” he said before coughing up more blood and I lost it. “You need to go.” he said, his voice sounding pained and forced. I knew he was suffering but I couldn’t let him die here.

“I’m not leaving you, Mansk.” I whisper, pressing his palm against my cheek. The tears blur my vision before spilling down my cheek, burning my skin a little.

“You can- live.” he says, swallowing back a cough while he struggles to breathe.

I clench my eyes closed, not wanting him to leave me as well. I knew Mansk for a long time and even though we were never really close, he had been a part of my life since I arrived on Pandora. We rarely talked but we knew we had each other's back and it didn’t cross my mind that I could lose him during this war. Now that I was face to face with the aftermath of violence, I was crumbling down. He meant too much to me, I couldn’t let him go.

“Don’t worry about me.” I whisper, forcing a trembling smile onto my face. I point to the opening of the hole we fell through. “I’ll get out there.” I say and his eyes slowly drift from my face to the opening in the ceiling and then back to me. He doesn’t seem sure of it but he doesn’t question it any further. His movements become so faint that I notice his presence slowly fading away. Mansk’s eyes slowly unfocus from my face and I reach out and cup his cheek while tears continue to spill from my eyes.

“Mansk-” I sob, trying to stay composed in front of him. He blinked, opening his slowly closing eyes a bit more and looking at me again.

“... stay with me, come on.”

My fingers gently tap his cheek while the water on the floor mixes with his blood.

Mansk opens his mouth to say something but he can’t push out a single word and instead, he slowly struggles to inhale before closing his mouth again.

I hold his palm against my chest, roughly where my heart is as I try to keep his attention on me.

“Please, don’t do this to me…” I sob, clutching his hand. He stares at me and his eyes look sad but he can’t say or do anything.

“Mansk, please you’re all I have left.” I cry out, dropping my head down before looking up at him.

“Thank you…” he repeats and ever so faintly whispers. He was grateful I was by his side because in truth Mansk did want to live. Mansk wanted to wake up to the morning the next day and be with everyone else. But that wasn’t possible. Not only because he was slowly dying, but because everyone has had since probably died.

I rub my thumb over his cheek, trying to comfort him. He’s looking into my eyes and furrows his eyebrows together a little as if he were confused about whether my tears are actually for him. Like he didn’t think he was worth my pain.

Mansk looked at me almost apologetically and his lips parted while he tried to get more air into his lungs. I couldn’t see his chest heaving anymore but I felt so mild air fanning from his mouth with small exhales.

I bit down on my lip, watching him and needing proof of life every few seconds.

He’s staring at me, grateful he wasn’t left alone and I notice how his eyes start to unfocus again. I gently tap his cheek, waiting for his eyes to readjust like they did last time but this time Mansk’s head is slowly falling to the side and into my palm. His eyes fade out and stare into nothing as they move from my face to the empty space behind me. His soft breath stopped fanning against my hand and his face was no longer contorted in pain or sorrow. It was blank and relaxed.

Mansk’s hand slowly drifted off my chest and loosely fell on his lap.

I wanted to scream and call his name but all words got stuck in my throat and I held onto him while my mouth gaped open. Tears fell from my face onto his now lifeless and numb body.

His blood continued to colour the rising water around me red. It had already overflowed his legs and reached up to his waist.

I held on to his body, pressing my face against his shoulder and crying my eyes out.

At this point, I had lost absolutely everyone and everything. We couldn’t return to family on Earth because we were Na’vi and now we had all lost each other.

Z-Dog lay on the top deck with a bow in her hip and one in her face while the ship started to slowly sink.

Prager lay on his side, motionless with a spear through his chest.

Lopez’s body had now sunk to the bottom of the ocean after he was shot by an arrow.

Walker, Zhang and Fike both had been shot down by arrows too.

Warren and Brown got an axe in their body.

Ja I had left behind after he was killed by the Tulkun.

Lyle was floating in the water, struggling to stay above the surface.

I didn’t know where Quaritch was but I knew he couldn’t help me.

And Mansk… lay bleeding out in front of me, lifeless and cold. His head was tilted to the side and I knew that he was gone. I could never talk to him again. I would never see him again. I know even if I survived, they wouldn’t retrieve his body and he would stay here and sink with the ship.

The water was filling the room more rapidly now but I still clung on to Mansk, crying his name.

I noticed his broken shades floating in the water and picked them up.

Remembering how much he liked to wear them I steadied his head and carefully put them on him after closing his eyelids. He would have thanked me if he could have for this.

My body was shaking but I knew I was going to die here too if I didn’t leave soon. I get up and the water reached up to Mansk’s neck already. It was gushing in from a half-open door on the other side of the dark room.

I look up, making sure the exit is still there but suddenly I see the water start flowing in from the top. The entire room is slowly turning over and the water flowing on deck has managed to push over the door which now completely closed off the hole we were in.

The room gets a lot darker and the water is leaking in from the side and from the top.

I groan out in pain through my sobs. I have tears staining my cheeks and my nose became runny and stuffed. This isn’t how I wanted things to end. We were finally starting to enjoy being alive on Pandora and now we died because our past selves made us finish something they couldn’t.

I look back at Mansk and see that he is fully submerged in the water now. I cry out, hating how helpless he is and how helpless I feel now. My side aches even more and I clutch my broken rib, trying to bite back the pain. I wouldn’t be able to swim in this anyway.

Within minutes, my feet are no longer touching the ground and my head is bumping against the ceiling. I’m crying out for help in pain but no one can hear anything over the noise of the flowing water. I wonder if anyone is still alive but I highly doubt it. There is a crack in the wall which is letting the oxygen in the room be replaced with water. I struggle to swim and keep my head above the surface.

(Art)

But then I ask myself, why I’m fighting? There was no use to it. Everyone was gone and I was stuck and injured.

I deeply inhale one last time before the entire room is submerged in water. My eyes open and I peer down at Mansk, who is lifelessly half laying at the bottom.

Since I’m going to die I might as well join him there so neither of us has to be alone.

I swim down with the last of my strength, watching how the last few bubbles of air escape his slightly parted lips. My hand once again reaches for his and I hold on to it for some form of comfort before I face upwards and let all the air I have to escape my lungs.

I start choking and look at Mansk. The light specks on our skin were slightly illuminating the water but his were more faded. I looked closer and watched how the light slowly vanished from him, one dot at a time.

It wasn’t long before I started drowning and a few minutes later, my lifeless, artificial blue body sunk down and joined Mansk on the floor of the ship.

Our bodies would stay here, most likely forever since all the death here was just a failed mission.

The lights from my body had now disappeared too and we were dragged down to the bottom of the ocean along with the ship. All because some humans wanted us to finish what they couldn’t.

So there I lay, greeting death with a smile once again, in hopes of meeting Mansk someday and somewhere far from here.

(I'm going to try and make some art to this)

Tag List: @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @number1gal

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throwaway-yandere · 2 years ago

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"If you truly loved me, you should be dead." (Yandere Hitman!Dainsleif/Reader)

a/n: shoutout to rin for giving me that wine prompt, general for making me simp more, and ana for indirectly giving me that final push to write abt dain again lol. Maybe I enjoyed this way too much. Sorry for the b&w manga panels lol.

unreliable summary: Dainsleif– a well-known ex-hitman– recently discovered that his deceased spouse might be alive. Whether or not that’s good news is entirely up to his mental state to decide.

Cw: yandere themes, mafia au, religious themes, major character death, violence, UNRELIABLE NARRATORS, mentions of cancer, and grief mixed with suicidal thoughts. Hurt/no comfort. Please PLEASE prioritize your mental health first before consuming dark content. you matter first and foremost.

“Dainsleif, Excommunicated. In effect, 6:00 p.m., Eastern Standard Time.”

—---

“Get in.”

“B-But what if!–”

“Just get in, Thoma.”

Dainsleif uncapped his hip flask as Thoma trembled at the foreboding skyscraper in front of their smaller and seemingly insignificant stature. He’s not bothered by Thoma’s reaction, besides–

What sane person wouldn’t be intimidated at the sight of a hotel run by criminals?

The Heavenly Principles is a chain of hotels established by the Abyss Order. It is also regarded as a haven for those with blood-stained nails– but never freshly coated hands. The Snezhnayan branch is the cruelest and most frigid one. They won’t bat an eye if you had arrived after a “job”, but it is most certainly a problem if you conducted “business” inside. It’s a neutral territory for the underworld with several ground rules. Rules that, once broken, would result in what is referred to as “ex-communication”… and no one wants the Adjudicator to hunt them down.

As fate would have it, the infamously retired assassin turned "Bough Keeper" aided a corporate bodyguard inside. Thoma spoke about how the Adjudicator was looking for his Lady without ascertaining the reason why. To soothe the "pup"’s nerves, Lord Ayato kindly asked his old friend Dain if he could drag Thoma to Lord Arlecchino. If Dain knew how finicky the lapdog would be, he probably would've turned the favor down.

"Why are you so sure he's not after Ayaka?" Thoma boldly asked.

Dainsleif refrained from sighing.

The only reason Thoma wasn’t afraid of Dainsleif was that the retired hitman made an oath to his spouse that he would never kill again once they were married. Nowadays, Dain’s income relied on mundane “clean-ups” or sometimes disarming bombs. He dismantled himself from his old responsibilities and became the Abyss Order’s errand boy. Currently, his job is the lowest rank yet he remains respected. As the Bough Keeper, his job is to clean up and handle disputes as long as it doesn’t result in the death of any parties.

A bit similar to Thoma’s line of work, but the bodyguard loathes that comparison. In his point of view, Dainsleif’s eyes are terrifyingly empty when compared to his. Thoma fears his eyes. It reminds him of the time he rowed a boat to Inazuma from Mondstadt. Being stuck in the middle of the sea is not what rattles him, it’s when Thoma gazed and saw the difference between the water and skies was heavily blurred, unable to pinpoint where the ocean ends.

That uncertainty makes anyone shake. They’d rather not make an enemy of a man who is one more step to having nothing to lose.

“If Adjudicator Cyno were out to get her, he would’ve surely ended her life by now,” Dainsleif answered, walking without as much letting the bodyguard catch up. “It’s far more likely that he has business with me and not your lady.”

The adjudicator would surely look for him in the next 3 hours.

“But My Lady has–”

“Not caused actions that'll make the Abyss Order turn against her whatsoever.”

Dainsleif stopped by the tinted glass door and Thoma exhaled deeply. They had been walking for hours since the ex-hitman refused to take a taxi. He claimed that a walk would be safer for Thoma. Assassins don’t act kind towards bodyguards, so seeing Dainsleif march beside him (rather, in front of him) is more than enough to secure his safety.

“Rest assured, once you talk to Arlecchino you’d realize that he’s not after the Himegimi.”

“A-And I’m supposed to be more relaxed by the possibility that he’s after her brother instead?”

“Yes,” he replied. “Because the Adjudicator wouldn't thoughtlessly kill the person who runs the Heavenly Principle's Inazuma branch. I'd appreciate it if you think critically.”

Katheryne, the receptionist, opened the hotel's door. She welcomed Dainsleif in, but if her hair was any longer she would’ve slapped her locks against Thoma’s face with how quick she was to turn and disregard his presence.

“Good afternoon, Sir Dainslief, Thoma,” she said in a monotone voice. Her lack of honorifics when addressing the bodyguard was noticeably rude. “Please, do not wait around outside, come on in.”

The hotel looks even more spacious and positively regal inside.

Thoma had anticipated that a place where "lowlives" would find sanctuary would be horribly run-down and neglected, but he cynically understood that money talks—and crime speaks louder. His skin crawls at the idea that the blood money used to construct this infrastructure served as its fundamental foundation, but he lacks the courage to say it.

“So… Do you come here often?” Thoma whispered.

Dainsleif blinked– and Thoma can barely determine the subtle shock on his face.

“... Yes. Yes, I do.”

Dainsleif proceeded to advance toward Katheryne without explaining why he was taken aback by that question.

Thoma normally takes the front line during security disputes in the Kamisato Esate, but this hotel is a very different situation. If the act of clinging onto Dainsleif’s toned arm won’t disparage the Kamisato Clan’s reputation, Thoma would’ve done that in a heartbeat. A few oddballs gave him the side eye, and a ginger-haired man almost charged at Thoma with a makeshift lance before putting it away when he saw Dainsleif.

“Holy shit. It’s the dead Twilight walking!!!” The ginger greeted with empty eyes. “Where’ve you been, comrade?! And what’s with the news we just heard? You gave Skirk an aneurism.”

Dainsleif took a sip of his pocketed Death After Noon with a look in his eyes that screamed “Here we go again.”

“Your concern for me is flattering, Childe,” Dainsleif spoke, bored. “I’m only here for personal matters.”

“Is he a relative of yours?” This “child” squinted his eyes, piercing them against Thoma. “Must say, he looks like a total greenhorn.”

Thoma raised his hand, “I’m–”

“That’s not worthy of your concern, and don't bother him.”

Thoma was grateful for Dainsleif’s nonanswer. The way he phrased it had implications that he might be a VIP and therefore untouchable.

“Alright then, who am I to disrespect a legend’s wishes?” The “child" patted Dainsleif’s shoulder.

“In any case, welcome home for the last time, comrade.”

Dainsleif diverted his gaze.

“Home?”

This place is not his home, he refuses to let it be so. The scent of cocoa truffles, the messy watercolor-ed desk, the bulletin board littered with red threads, and scattered impulsive notes about a character’s dialogue– where is it? Is this stiff hotel Dainsleif’s home when there’s no sign of life– no sign of them? In here, there is no bed to fix, no brushes to dry, no markers to cap–

and no insomniac spouse to forcefully tuck into bed at 2 AM.

A strained laugh exited Dainsleif’s throat, and a burning sensation in his eyes nearly reminded him that he does have emotions he cannot bottle underneath a cool facade. Yet, as that laugh reverberated in the otherwise silent lounging area, the ex-hitman steeled himself. That phantom coil in his chest dissipated and was replaced by something hollow.

Midnight cuddles and drinks with his spouse, watching their eyes crinkle as they ramble about their last horror piece, pulling them closer just to see the stars in their eyes. That scenery? It was his home. It was what street musicians dub like Venti would as happiness. Not the silence after slaughter– not the quiet of the Principle's lounging area.

The Bough Keeper closed his eyes and answered the two oblivious men with a flat voice.

A “home” to get back to...

“I… no longer have a home.”

He's already reached his journey's end. All his bones await now is death himself.

For only death can lead him back home into (Y/n)’s arms again.

Dainsleif sighed.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Childe. Do svidaniya. Extend my greetings to Skirk if you have the chance, and when you try your hand at hunting me down: do your best.”

—-------------

“Found you."

The woman of the hour smirked as she peered over her shoulder. Her luxurious locks of short dark-streaked albino elegantly hair swung as she faced both Dain and Thoma.

“Oh? Well, it’s only because I wanted to be found.”

Dainsleif sat at one of the chairs unperturbed while Thoma tried not to squirm as the Heavenly Principle’s Snezhnayan branch proprietor– Lord Arlecchino– organized her documents. The enormity of Thoma's situation was lost on her. Arlecchino's face was barely wrinkled, a sign that she takes pleasure in her job. Despite carrying out a task that required undivided attention, her piercing stare dug holes in the wall clock. Her lack of focus relieved Thoma, but only for a fleeting moment.

3 hours more, huh?

Arlecchino fished out a paper from her desk pile.

Never been one to beat around the bush, she laid the facts drop-dead on the table with a loud thud.

“(Y/n) is alive, and Her Highness expects that both Dainsleif and Kamisato Ayaka know where they are.”

…

Dainsleif didn’t utter a word.

“E-Excuse me?!” Thoma gasped.

Dain’s spouse died years ago. Much like a cat leaving the house when it knows it will inevitably shake hands with death, (Y/n) vanished when they knew the next month would be their last. Their family on their mother’s side had always been riddled with cancer and similar illnesses. When they muttered sweet phrases about how they wanted his last memories of them to be of them smiling and cheering him on– Dainsleif didn’t question the validity of their death.

So for Arlecchino to say such a thing is a bit…

“There’s no way! Sure, (Y/n) was close friends with the Kamisatos– but My Lady cried during (Y/n)’s funeral. Ayaka had always been honest to a fault– she wouldn’t have been able to lie, act, or keep a secret like this–”

At least, that’s what Thoma assumed. All he has is word-of-mouth from his master and the Darknight Hero’s associates. The Dawn Winery isn’t the most reliable source unless you’re trained at fact-checking rogues and fabulists’ crude testimonies. Thoma may be a streetwise man, but he always exuded naivete when surrounded by men like them.

Dainsleif cut him off immediately.

“Your rambling is as banal as Katheryne asking for “Dinner Reservations” after business. Worse, yours suffer from how unwarranted they are.”

Thoma went silent to both Arlechinno and Dain’s immediate relief. The two understood it as Thoma perceiving a threat, but in reality, the bodyguard just wasn't aware that “dinner reservations” meant cleaning up a crime scene.

“Where is (Y/n)?” The ex-hitman looked at Arlecchino nonchalantly. “If that intel was real, where are they now?”

“Y-You can’t be serious, Dain!” Thoma gawked. “Your spouse died long ago–”

“Where are they now?”

Silence filled the room as the assassin repeated his inquiry with accentuated obstinacy. Dainsleif knows his spouse better than them so Thoma cannot question the widower’s line of thought.

(Y/n) (L/n), may not have been an official criminal in the eyes of the underworld, but they were guilty of multiple accounts of rebellion, sedition, and illegal associations. They penned propaganda in literary mediums and had repeatedly given out tactics on how to dismantle the current system under a 4-lettered pen name, “████”. His spouse was devious by nature and a long-winded conversationalist– which emphasizes a noticeable stark contrast when seated beside their stoic husband.

If they were alive, they must be watching this conversation while suppressing a smirk.

(Y/n) was the type who would laugh at their own funeral. An expiration date made more sense to them than a promise of forever. Fixity made them uneasy. Dainsleif cannot trust others to share a domestic life with them when he is wholly aware that they’ll die from their hereditary illness. (Y/n) sought thrills more than comfort, which is a reason why he can't cross out the possibility that they had grown bored of their marriage and used their health as an excuse to–

No. That’s an awful line of thinking.

(Y/n) loved him.

… Surely, they did?

"Don't lose your composure, Twilight. I'm not saying this so you could drown yourself in grief with fire-waters. I’ve heard word from Pantalone that they’re likely in Sumeru City during the Sabzeruz Festival, but as (Y/n) loved to say–”

“Information always travels faster than people,” Dainsleif closed his eyes, tasting the words as if it was his deceased lover that imparted them themselves. “That leaked intel is as reliable as wet tissue paper.”

(Y/n)’s insight in regards to trends had been prescient– which is a kinder and less pessimistic way to say they likely already knew the adjudicator had been trailing them for some time. Runaways follow oft‐trod paths to free-trade zones– his spouse would be no exception.

That is, of course, if (Y/n) is alive.

But they’re not.

Dainsleif refused to believe it.

If (Y/n) (L/n) truly loved him, they wouldn’t be alive right now.

“Let us temporarily assume that your spouse is alive for the foreseeable future, Dain,” Arlecchino said, noticing Dain’s subtly pained expression. “For the sake of formalities– are you aware of the repercussions you will face if they were?”

“Repercussions…?” Thoma’s eyes widened.

Dainsleif shook his head.

“If it’s as I suspect, then this is a tragic state of affairs.”

“Indeed,” Arlecchino placed a hand on her hip, subtly pushing away her coat to signify her slotted holster. She tilted her chin up menacingly at Thoma.

“Since you can’t catch up, Mister Kamisato Estate Representative, allow me to spell everything out for you– Dainsleif would be formally announced as a “sinner” in the next 3 hours.”

Thoma’s eyes widened, unlike the man who was affected by the news.

“HAAAH?!?”

Dainsleif sipped his flask again, unbothered.

“Sinner” describes individuals who have been banned from all services, resources, and relationships with other members of the criminal underworld. Sinners become a target for any individuals who wish to kill them with a large bounty placed on their heads. And an ex-communication ordained by the Heavenly Principles is a guaranteed high payroll. When it’s the Abyss Order that hands the cash, you’d get more than enough to secure more than a handful of assets. The moment that occurs– Dainsleif would have to run and find connections that would help him plead his case.

They would surely goad everyone with tenfold the normal amount given the Twilight Sword’s intimidating repertoire.

Dain found that amusing.

The nickname “Twilight Sword” he carries is not reserved for anyone else, but mortal arrogation would surely take a jab and see if they can steal the only life he can’t take away.

He’d laugh now if he weren't depressed.

Killing the Twilight Sword, huh? Even he fails to accomplish that.

"That's unreasonable! The sins of a spouse can't be shared–"

"Why don't you keep your mouth shut, blonde?"

Arlecchino snarled.

"Read the room. No one is giving you a turn to speak."

…

Dainsleif cleared his throat, “Back to the matter at hand; Her Highness is under the assumption that my spouse was– or is– conspiring against the Abyss Order. Which, I reassure you, is unlikely given how their last book is an anti-fascist novel with The Crane being alluded to as the protagonist.”

It didn't make sense for (Y/n) to betray the mafia when they were part of the cog that overthrew Osial, Ei, and the rest.

“... The Crane?” Thoma muttered to himself.

Arlecchino sighed gutturally, irritated.

“You might know her as Shenhe. She’s the assassin that overthrew the ex-Capo, Osial,” Arlecchino answered Thoma. “Strange that you don’t know her. I’m certain she had helped with renovating the Kamisato Estate before.”

Thoma answered with a small voice, “I do know Shenhe as my Lady’s friend, but I don’t recall having her help us with our last renovation…”

“But you should’ve remembered that. After all, cranes are the best kind of bird to help you lift planks.”

…

“... None of you got the joke too? Don’t even think about disparaging me. The joke is not mine, it’s the Adjudicator's.”

Thoma frowned, “I’m sorry, I think it’s too advanced–”

“Stop.” Dainsleif whispered urgently, “Don’t let her explain it. We’re wasting time.”

—-------------

“Dainsleif, Excommunicated. In effect: 2 hours and 30 minutes.”

—-------------

“There’s a fourteen million bounty on your head now, Dain,” Arlecchino said. “If I were more heartless, I would’ve easily planned something. Fourteen million is an impressive starting price.”

“Thank you.”

“P-Please don't thank her. She admitted that she wants to kill you," Thoma begged in a hushed whisper.

As if he doesn't want that to happen.

“Although you have been a loyal customer, I can’t provide any services once the timer runs out,” Arlecchino deadpanned. “You’re a brave one. Sauntering into my hotel when assassins are waiting to strike. It’s as if you have a death wish like my former colleagues.”

“I’ll take my leave then.”

Dainsleif stood up and prematurely exited the conversation, leaving two acquaintances behind.

Arlecchino chuckled. Always up on his feet, that one. She looked at the person who left. It’s clear to her that Thoma does not know what he intended to do next. Thoma fiddled with his fingers, staring blankly.

"It's rude to stare. If you have something to say, spit it out."

Thoma cleared his throat.

"Lord Arlecchino, I was hoping to find out more about My Lady's safety…"

Arlecchino rolled her eyes.

“I’d rather you figure out the truth for yourself. (Y/n) taught us that indoctrination is not education before they ‘passed’, but since I happen to be in a friendly rivalry with Lord Kamisato, I’ll give you your damn reassurance and advice."

Arlecchino grabbed Thoma’s shoulder tightly. Thoma stiffened at her harsh touch, but his determined eyes impressed Arlecchino.

"Ayaka is fine, and Ayaka will be fine."

Arlecchino slid an envelope against his chest. He winced awkwardly at her cold touch and fumbled to receive it.

…

After reading the letter, Thoma sighed in relief.

"Feeling better?"

"Yes. Yes, Lord Arlecchino."

"Good."

No one outside the room knew at that time what the letter contained except for Lord Kamisato. But in 2 hours, the world would know soon enough.

"And lastly, I know you're tempted, but stay away from Dain. He's a dead man and most of all–" Arlecchino breathed between her teeth.

“He's unreliable. His view on his relationship with (Y/n) is tinted with a rosy hue. His memory has all but faded completely regarding what transpired. And sometimes, liars get fooled by their own lies. See for yourself.”

Thoma’s eyebrows knitted in an instant. Arlecchino didn’t give him a turn to speak and opened the door on his way out.

“Focus on your issues, Kamisato Dog. Ad astra abyssosque.”

—------------------------------------

“Dainsleif, Excommunicated. In effect in 4… 3… 2…”

“1…”

“Dainsleif: 14 million. Open contract is now in effect. All services have been suspended.”

—------------------------------------

“Halfdan.”

“Dain.”

“Please let me do this.”

Dainsleif hummed non-committedly.

His new enemy is none other than Halfdan: an old friend back when he served in the military and also the same brother-in-arms he dragged along to become freelance hitmen. Thanks to the fall of multiple governments, Khaenria’hns had to vicariously live through dirty work to survive. To cope, Dainsleif mercifully persuaded Halfdan down this route with a gifted gun for him to take.

And it’s the very same revolver now aimed at Dainsleif’s forehead.

“Capo Pantalone denounced two possibilities from this scenario: one being your spouse had turned traitor and the other would be that they were a double agent this whole time,” Halfdan quietly mused. “And if that were the case, they fear what that makes you."

“And that’s why you’re here?” Dainsleif spoke between labored exhales, clearly worn out from the numerous assassination attempts against his life moments prior.

The world they walk on is liquefied and weightless, never a flat one. Most are content to kill, but not to live– never to dream. Here in the underground, capitalism plays in a greater uneven field. Assassins, elites, common folk– such titles make no difference. Whatever bounty pays moderately might shoot higher the next hour while others might drop lower than the corpse themselves.

Which led Halfdan to make the worst decision of his life.

An ex-hitman who refuses to kill does sound like an easy target on paper.

Dainsleif gritted his teeth.

If Halfdan knew Dain's barrel was empty, he would be dead right now.

Still, not everyone would be bold to make an enemy out of the Bough Keeper.

Especially not when he memorized every hitman’s fighting style, moves, and preferred weapons.

"Evidence suggests that you’re an accomplice. Did you help them?"

“I did not help them– because (Y/n) was not a traitor.”

“Then who else could’ve ratted out all the Abyss' trade routes?” Halfdan said robotically. “It’s a win-win situation for (Y/n) if this whole mess is true. They’d get recognition for their work and potentially have you dead after your ex-communication.”

"Do you know where they are? Where (Y/n) is?"

"You're at the end of my revolver and that's what you're asking?"

"Is that so surprising?"

"Not at all," Halfdan closed his eyes. "Not at all."

"I take it you don't have a clue."

"I know that (Y/n) has been the brains of Archon Kusanali's return to office– possibly her second sage. Whatever that is."

That can’t be right. His spouse hated superordinate roles.

"For someone who was told their dead spouse might be alive, you're surprisingly calm, Dainsleif."

"Forgive me, I try my best to remain composed twenty-four-seven," Dainsleif sardonically replied. "It was a requirement of my previous profession."

“Right… Being a hitman must’ve been tough. Can’t imagine what it’s like,” he chuckled.

Halfdan fired first.

Dainsleif sprinted, hiding behind the alleyway's bricked stores. With his finger hovering above the trigger, he had momentarily forgotten who was after him. As Halfdan carefully scanned the area, Dain tied his blonde hair up loosely, courtesy to how his late spouse nagged him about how it helps keep loose strands out of his eyes during "business hours".

Three warning shots followed.

"Senior, can't you go easy on me? Just this once?" Halfdan mumbled.

Now that the gun was pointed at him, it came to both their minds that they don’t know one another as deeply as they thought. Not in the traditional sense of knowing their names and faces, of course. It dawned that neither talked about themselves as soon as they became hitmen. The Heavenly Principles– whether it’s the Snezhnayan branch or the one Lord Ayato’s running– was like their version of two lost samurais’ dilapidated shelter. They’d talk and bond while it rains– but they’ll never converse outside that haven.

Dain pursed his lips, glaring at the corner of his eyes...

It’d be too easy to kill him.

There’s a crack in the wall that can easily target Halfdan’s temple. Should he pull the trigger, he would be dead without another word. His blood and brain matter would paint the alley’s wall like vague graffiti and there’d be one less person off his case.

But Dainsleif didn’t fire his gun.

“Senior”? Don’t make him laugh.

"I'm not your senior anymore, Halfdan."

Dainsleif jumped out of his spot–

And took his shot too, without any intent to kill.

“NGAH–!”

Halfdan gasped sharply, biting his bottom lip as blood gushed from his left arm. He slid back behind the post immediately, afraid to get close to Dain. Besides, anyone can see a rifle's imprint on Halfdan's cheek.

He's a sniper. Close combat is not his forte.

Unfortunately, Dainsleif used to be a spotter.

“Shit, Dain! What the hell?!” Halfdan tearfully begged. “W-Why are you fighting back? Aren’t you tired of this world?! Aren’t you just waiting to die?!”

Dainsleif’s eyelids lowered.

He doesn’t know the clear answer to that himself.

Until a thought occurred to him.

“I.. Want to carry their memories.”

“... W-What?”

“I wanted to carry on living, for them,” Dainsleif said. “For (Y/n).”

He realized that as long as he was alive, he could keep (Y/n)’s memory alive. He can continue to tell stories about them– to cherish the memories they shared and to honor their legacy. With a newfound sense of purpose, Dainsleif made a silent promise to himself and his deceased spouse.

Hence, Dain would continue to live, not just for himself, but for them. He would carry their memory with him wherever he travels and he refuses to forget their warmth. With that, he gripped his gun, feeling resolute. It’s a long road ahead, but he can carry on, for (Y/n) and for himself. As it turns out, he still had a purpose and a reason to keep going.

His memories of (Y/n) are enough for him to stay alive.

Dainsleif glanced at the crack in the wall.

He reasons that he will be fine if Halfdan dies. Dain had killed many of his former allies before he was wed. Many did oppose his marriage with (Y/n)– worse, many thought they could kill his beloved for it to occur. Killing an old friend tonight wouldn’t be his first.

Dainsleif sighed. He could use his dagger, but he wanted Halfdan's death to be quick.

‘I’m sorry, Halfdan.’

But he did not feel sorry.

Dainsleif loaded his gun.

2 bullets.

That should be more than enough.

‘You’re going to have to be my first kill after 7 years.’

—------------------

As Dainsleif fended off greed-blinded men, Thoma found himself in another nerve-wracking dilemma. He stood inside one of the private rooms in the Heavenly Principles, unflinching. The sharp yet muted shrill of a spoon grated Thoma’s ears, but he remained standing, vigilant yet afraid.

Hard to speak when it was the adjudicator himself that stirred the cup.

The adjudicator, Cyno, is a dreadful shadow to have. Unlike the Bough Keeper, he had deep-set eyes that looked to be calculated at all times. Thoma was most terrified by the adjudicator's reputation for having unwavering determination. His job is to be both feared and respected in equal measure. If Cyno wills it, Thoma and Ayaka would be nothing more than mere bodies between him and his goals.

If it’s true that (Y/n) managed to escape Cyno more than a few times, then he ought to get some tips on how they do it. Cyno cornered Thoma so effortlessly before he could leave earlier.

"Coffee?" Cyno offered. "Don't worry, this isn't the same drink Dain prepared for (Y/n) every morning."

Thoma raised an eyebrow.

What does that mean?

“No thank you sir, but I appreciate the gesture.”

Cyno nodded.

“Let me be clear: I am here to adjudge your master, not you. So if my subordinates found evidence against her, I shall be the one that weighs those scales.”

Thoma already knew that and that threat was never going to provoke him.

If Thoma tells him what the letter contained now, it'll only make the Kamisatos more suspicious.

“I understand, sir. Would that be all?”

“Course not,” Cyno said. “Thoma, I’ve got a question to ask.”

“Go on, sir.”

“Did you ask Dainsleif for help earlier?”

“... Yes, sir.”

“Good,” the Adjudicator nodded. “I value your honesty– and are you sure you don’t want coffee?”

“Yes sir– and I’m sorry for asking for his assistance, I didn’t–”

“Know he was going to get excommunicated, I’m aware,” he muttered. “But that’s an old excuse.”

Cyno sipped his cup, his eyes locked on Thoma's. Thoma tried his best to avoid his gaze but found it impossible. The Adjudicator had a way of making people feel small with just a single look.

"You're brave," he said. "But bravery can’t save the Himegimi. Only the truth can. So where is he?"

Thoma's heart raced as he tried to come up with a response. He knew he had to be careful with his words, or he might end up endangering not just himself, but Dainsleif as well.

"I don't know where he is," Thoma said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Don't lie to me," Cyno's expression darkened, slamming his cup against the table. It shattered, making Thoma finally flinch at the sound of its impact.

"We know you've been communicating with him. You're part of his and his spouse’s rebellion against the Abyss Order."

“I genuinely don’t know where he is and I'm not part of any rebellion,” Thoma’s voice cracked. “Lord Ayato just ordered me to communicate with Lord Arlecchino and had Mister Dainsleif tag along, please believe me.”

The Adjudicator went silent.

He scoffed.

“Damnit.”

Cyno understood through experience that Thoma wasn’t lying. He ran his fingers through his stressed-white hair, eyes closed.

He unlocked the door.

“Fine, you’re free to leave.”

Thoma blinked, hesitating to do what was commanded.

It’s as easy as that…?

He’s not going to interrogate him further? Wasn’t he supposed to probe into what he knows about Dainsleif or why Lord Ayato sent him to Snezhnaya in the first place? Won’t Cyno give Thoma the chance to tell him that he went all the way here because he feared what he plans to do to Ayaka?

It can't be over just like that.

Wasn't he after Ayaka?

What's going on?

Why did he give up that fast?

All the effort he went through… Just for that?

That’s all the big scary Adjudicator has to say?

Thoma combed his hair up.

Was Lord Ayato right? Was he really just paranoid?

Whatever was on Thoma’s mind– he spoke none of it. He discarded every doubt. Above all else, he was glad that everything seemed to be over.

As Thoma turned to close the door behind him, he heard Cyno mutter something barely a whisper.

“If I am to weigh the souls of others in this world as an Adjudicator, then I must also place my own soul on the scales to be judged in the same manner, but…”

Thoma closed the door before he heard him finish the rest.

“(L/n), despite being a wrongdoer, I wonder if you had a point…” Cyno said.

“... Maybe it’s time we dismantle the current system and rely on the government– Kusanali– once more.”

Cyno didn't drink the coffee he prepared for Thoma. Instead, the adjudicator grabbed his case and left the dubious drink be.

—--------

Thoma thought that was the end of it, but fate had other plans.

He was on his way back when he stumbled upon Dainsleif, soaked in blood. It was a complete coincidence that Thoma had taken this particular route, and he can’t tell whether that was a blessing or a curse. Knowing that Dainsleif possesses incomparable mental fortitude to carry on fighting despite his weakened state, he approached him warily. Thoma was warned already by Arlecchino not to get involved, yet he can’t just leave without a proper thank you. As he got closer, Thoma saw that the man was mumbling incoherently.

"Eli…”

Thoma blinked. Is he calling for Ellin, the rookie hitman?

“Dain…?”

He’s lost in his thoughts.

Dainsleif was morbidly aware that feelings of grief should've surfaced, that he should be mourning the loss of an old friend. Once again, he tried to summon some kind of emotion, any reaction to his Halfdan's corpse. But he felt nothing. No sadness, no anger, no regret. What he felt was frustration only after his failed attempts. Dainsleif was unable to shake off the sense of detachment that had taken hold of him.

Halfdan was just another person who failed to kill the “Twilight Sword”.

“Eli, lama sabachthani…?" Dainsleif muttered.

"Huh?"

Eli, Eli, Lama Sabachthani: those were the words his spouse said when they were incredibly ill.

It meant "My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken me?"

As he gazed at the scene of Halfdan's death, Dainsleif heaved a heavy sigh. He was aware that he had to face the facts of his predicament, but he wasn't sure how he should press on. The deafening silence prevailed. Now that he had to deal with isolation and social rejection, his longing for (Y/n) rekindled sevenfold. He knows that it's near impossible to continue living without his spouse.

But finding them?

That should be easier.

"Y-You should take a rest, Dain," Thoma frowned. "I know you haven't killed anyone since today, so maybe you should seek shelter and steel yourself for now."

“I can't, and there is no need for that. No other Black Serpent assassin danced with grief more than I.”

Dainsleif swiftly picked up the knife from the ground, masterfully twirling it until the blood was wiped clean.

“But when I got back to work– I suddenly felt a small amount of relief from this suffering.”

He stabbed the knife back into the corpse’s chest like a toothpick. The blonde carved the knife down the ribs with sheer brute strength. Blood coated his fingers and as he curled it deeper inside Halfdan’s chest, the blade disappeared.

Dainsleif laughed.

The manic blonde’s crooked grin widened.

Thoma didn’t gag at the sight of Halfdan’s corpse– he was used to the sight– but he gulped as he saw Dain’s expression.

His "terrifyingly empty" eyes suddenly had something murky fill the void.

Dainsleif lost it.

“That high didn’t last. Even now, I can feel anguish permeating my entire being. There is no “undoing” their death, such a line of thought inflicts only agony. (Y/n) had become an integral part of me– slowly but surely replacing my sins with a tenderness one cannot attain in the underworld. They did say that grief comes in waves, but how long will I have to stand ashore until a crash large enough would drown me to sea?”

Thoma drowned out his musings. They were bound not to make sense in the first place.

He's not mentally stable, and he doesn't expect him to be. Dain just found out his dead spouse might be alive and killed a friend in under an hour. Thoma would be insensitive if he forced him to compose himself.

Dainsleif let the handle go.

“Can’t you understand why I’m so desperate to find even a sliver of my beloved?” He laughed. “Why I never took assassination requests from the Abyss Order after their death? Why I’m more than willing to kill again? The answer is simple–”

Suddenly, it’s harder to breathe.

The ex-hitman stopped.

His smile weakened as he spoke, “Thoma… (Y-(Y/n)... I want (Y/n) to take me back in their arms as a corpse.”

Dainsleif breathed in shakily, his tears obstructing his speech. He clenched his fists above the table, arching his back as he avoided the bodyguard’s concerned gaze. Thoma could practically see his sobs as Dain’s entire body trembled from a depleting mix of ineffable exhaustion, sadness, and longing. He had bottled these emotions for long enough.

He always had nowhere else to go– no one else to turn to. But nowadays, it felt different. All because he foolishly trusted that maybe this time someone would be able to kill him…

Maybe this time…

The bodyguard rubbed his back, which only served to make the lonesome man conceal his weeping. There's nothing Thoma can do other than provide useless ministrations. To save the last of the ex-hitman's dwindling pride—if he really cared for such—he can only frown and look away.

Dainsleif trembled.

He doesn't know how to cry.

So he cried clumsily.

“I-I’m tired… of taking my own life.”

—----------------

“Dainsleif, open contract. Increase: 20 million.”

—----------------

[Eight Years Ago]

“So, Dain,” they awkwardly voiced with a warm smile. “Do you come here often?”

Does he come here often? Of course, he does. He “worked” here– but no ordinary citizen should know what business goes down in Wanmin restaurant.

And he knew (Y/n) frequented this restaurant too.

Dainsleif laughed.

It’s true, Dainsleif stalks them.

He initially believed they were just an extroverted student who had nothing better to do than to talk to the stranger they kept sitting next to on the bus. He was so exhausted from "work" that his initial impression was of (Y/n) was a loud and brazen scholar. Since the bus they boarded frequently had a TV, they were always open to talk with him about delicate subjects like the daily news about the syndicates without displaying any expressions of disgust. Although they didn't agree with everything he stated, they showed maturity by holding their ground. They praised him for his noteworthy thoughts while criticizing him for his blatantly generic statements. Dainsleif was almost sure they were part of the "industry" he works on–

Until he saw the collage of their friends and professors as their lock screen. Dainsleif realized two things at that time.

1) They like to write.

2) Their favorite mentor was Professor Aether. The “Traveler” who would inherit the Abyss Order if the Abyss Princess dies.

So it’s no wonder they knew a lot about human trafficking.

Something about their easygoing attitude and quick wit struck a chord with him. He found himself laughing along with them, feeling a sense of rare ease and comfort. And whenever they said their goodbyes when boarding off the bus, Dainsleif felt a sense of anticipation, a feeling that this was something special.

And now he "knows all that he needs to know" about (Y/n) (L/n).

Upon realizing that he was staring (they were waving a hand near their face), Dainsleif cleared his throat.

“I enjoy the wine here.”

“Thought the light was about to take you to the other side,” (Y/n) teased. “Anyways, yeah, you know my friends Stella, Jude, and Shiro? They like it too. Can’t catch me drinking though– I just order the sardines pasta here while they get red-faced drunk.”

He sneakily glanced at the menu and silently noted how that order appears to be the cheapest meal. If Dain pitied his date, he made no mention of it. Uyuu restaurant is for the rich and the shady and based on their humble hand-me-down shoes, both descriptions eluded them.

“Well-off friends?”

Dainsleif already knows the answer.

"Eh. We all know both rich and getting-by folks, don't we? As long as we can pay our bills, it doesn't matter," they shrugged. “Still… I’m REALLY sorry that you dressed up for me, Dain.”

They pinched their forehead.

“Look– I don’t know what on earth Rin told you, but I’m not worth this effort. You look incredibly dashing in that suit and tie by the way– but your date is wearing their sister’s Converse right now. If you want me to leave and enjoy your meal alone, just say so– you can even tell everyone that I’m just some charity case college student you fed or something. Fine by me, no problem.”

Dainsleif snorted slightly. While there’s no doubt in his mind that his salary can afford someone’s student loans, the last thing hitmen would do with their monthly pay is invest in multiple scholars.

“Would you feel better if I said I just arrived from work and had no time to change so I 'didn’t' put in any effort…?”

“Kinda,” they croaked pathetically and bowed their head. “But now that you phrased it like that, I can't tell if you're lying for the sake of my feelings, huhu...”

But that uncontrollable sunny smile on their face doesn't show any hint of genuine remorse. Dainsleif reciprocated their smile. (Y/n) is getting more comfortable being in Dainsleif’s presence than before, and Dainsleif seems more open to sharing things about himself– albeit not enough to spill about his true occupation.

His occupation…

Dain tried not to think about it whenever they're on a date, but he can't help it sometimes.

When, he wonders.

When will he find someone that is close enough to actually kill him?

This job was starting to get stale…

If it weren't for (Y/n), he sees no reason to even get out of bed anymore.

(Y/n)... Right, (Y/n). Of course.

Dainsleif stopped himself from grinning widely.

He's on a date– he should be more attentive.

Dain looked at them again, finding himself naturally concentrated on their mannerisms.

“... Why are your hands in your pockets?”

“Oh– I learned from one of my professors that people look more confident when they have their hands in their pockets, if and only if they have a thumb out, apparently.”

“And this prolonged eye contact we’re having?”

“My poor attempt at applying what I’ve learned, yes.”

Dainsleif laughed.

“You’re very easy to listen to.”

They frowned.

“Sorry… I tend to overshare sometimes.”

“Why are you apologizing? I appreciate that you’re being yourself,” Dainsleif said. “Better than honeypotting someone in a relationship.”

“You’re right, sor– I mean, yeah, you’re right.”

A waiter passed by.

“One– Two Death After Noon please, boss,” Dainsleif said.

(Y/n) chuckled humorously, "I suppose I'd also drink a lot if I ended up going on a date with someone like me."

"Glad to hear it. Let's have a drink together."

"Aight– wait, what?"

Dainsleif attempted to pass the glass to (Y/n), but the moment their hand reached the stem–

Splash.

"Oh sh–! I'm so sorry!!!"

Dainsleif blinked.

"Oh my Goodn– I'm so sorry, my bad. I'm–"

"It's alright. Hand me some tissues."

"Sorry…" they cringed. "I'm– I'm a little out of it, lately. I didn't mean to spill that all over– ugh. I'm such a disaster today, what the heck?"

Dainsleif chuckled, almost inaudibly. He didn't move from his position, letting the wine soak his jeans.

"You don't need to worry, I'm used to this."

They tried not to visibly react to that statement.

Use to what, exactly? Having drinks spilled on him?

What kind of life is Dainsleif living for that to happen often enough times for him to get "used to this"? Are people constantly spilling things on him?

"...Workplace harassment?" (Y/n) muttered, not realizing Dainsleif heard it.

His heart leaped as he quickly glanced at himself to check for visible wounds or scars, but snapped out of it when he felt something light against his clothes. No matter how wrong it could appear in public, it seems that (Y/n) awkwardly grabbed the closest tissue box to dab it out (and this action was motivated by how dry cleaning was expensive that year).

"(Y/n)–" he cringed as they continued.

"Please wait."

"You should be more focused on yourself," Dainsleif cleared his throat, with his ears and cheeks slightly red. "Y-You're wearing white."

"Oh…"

They pulled the hem of their clothing. The wine soaked them as well but they were too engrossed to notice it. (Y/n) scowled.

"I'm– yikes, I'm irredeemable at this point. Whoops," they laughed somewhat nervously. “You’ve done it, Mx. (L/n). This is our last date, I guess.”

Dainsleif didn't say a word.

He just stared, looking directly at their splattered clothes. Unlike (Y/n), he didn't jump to helping his date clean up. Dainsleif covered his mouth and breathed in shakily. It was strange. Instead of feeling annoyed or frustrated, he found himself staring fondly at (Y/n) and their almost equally stained clothes.

This stain… It looked like…

They expect him to laugh at their clumsiness or berate them at worst, but when they gazed up, those slapdash daydreams evaporated. Dainsleif looked dazed.

… Blood.

“Dain?”

They looked up at him, doe-eyed and confused. Without hesitation, they cupped his cheek, checking his features.

“Dain? Are you feeling alright? You’re spacing out a lot today.”

Dainsleif couldn’t stop staring.

This scenery was almost perfect. Almost. It just needed one small tweak:

It shouldn't have been wine. (Y/n) would look breathtaking if they were covered in the blood of the men he killed to get a chance to date them.

He looked at his stained clothes and smiled.

Maybe, just maybe,

(Y/n) (L/n) will be the one who can kill him.

—-----------------------------

[PRESENT]

Dain stumbled towards a house with a small inteyvat garden, his body aching and his clothes still stained with blood. He lifted a weak hand and knocked on the door, leaning heavily against the doorframe for support. He shook his hip flask, disappointed that the alcohol was already empty. Not that he needed it to ease his wounds. Thoma already helped Dainsleif patch up a bit, but left in a hurry knowing that the Adjudicator might see his act of “treason.”

After a few moments, the door creaked open and a blonde man peered out.

It was Professor Aether, a kind yet unassuming man who taught at multiple universities– including (Y/n)’s. Despite being the Abyss Princess's kin, he lived a relatively lowkey life in the suburbs after he stopped traveling. Aether looked Dainsleif up and down, his expression unreadable.

"You look injured," he said flatly, without a hint of concern in his voice.

Dain struggled to keep himself standing.

"I am," he said. "Traveler, I’ve been wrongfully excommunicated and I need your help."

Aether nodded as if he had expected that news. Still, he refused Dain entry to his house. “You didn’t honestly think I’d help you without a second thought, right?”

Dainsleif took a deep breath, “I have served and will be of service.”

The sinner then pulled out an object from his pocket and shoved it down Aether’s palm.

Aether raised an eyebrow, concerned.

Visions is a round metallic insignia formally recognized by the Abyss Order that signifies a blood oath. The debtor has their bloodied fingerprint pressed inside the shell. This vision had Aether's fingerprint, and he owes Dainsleif.

“A vision? Do you believe a blood debt will make me help you?” Unlike before, his voice was warm but distant.

“I helped you find your sister– you can help me find my spouse in return,” Dain glared. “Sinner or not, you owe me. I’m certain (Y/n) is alive– and I’m sure you know where they are. You shaped them into the tactician they are now. If there’s anyone who can figure out where they are, it’s you. So take me there.”

Aether closed his eyes.

There's no way he can reason with him.

This is no longer Dainsleif he's talking to– but a husk of a man.

“Fine.”

The professor also pulled something out of his pocket. A blue syringe, none other than one of Dottore’s concoctions, Dain believes. He did not question why he had that in his possession. Foolishly, he did not question if it was an anesthetic or a lethal injection either. What mattered more was (Y/n)’s location. Nothing else.

“But you’ll have to be asleep for it to happen,” the professor commanded exasperatedly. “Do you understand?”

“Why?”

“Because they wouldn’t believe I didn’t help you out otherwise,” Aether scoffed. “So just knock yourself so I can tie you up.”

Dainsleif rolled up his sleeve.

“Do what needs to be done.”

Aether administered the drug.

—-----------

Dainsleif slowly opened his eyes, his head throbbing just as Aether warned him. The room spun slightly as his eyes adjusted to his surroundings. His vision was blurry, but he could make out the distinct Inazuman patterns that covered the walls. The intricate designs were a mix of cloud shapes and leaf motifs, all in shades of blue and white.

This must be the basement of Uyuu restaurant. Dain didn’t expect he’ll be able to (Y/n) here– and if this was one of their base locations, that must mean Ayato is on their side. That’s another surprise he didn’t see coming. These all must’ve been Archon Kusanali’s idea– or maybe it was that government official, Al Haitham?

Whatever, it didn't matter. At least Dain was expecting to be tied down and he was right, he reminded himself. Dainsleif took a deep breath and calmed himself. The ropes dug painfully into his wrists as he struggled against them, squirming to find weak knots that bound him to the chair. No luck.

“Evening, Twilight Sword… Do you come here often?”

Dainsleif stopped struggling.

He looked up, dazed.

Perhaps “enchanted” might be the right term.

Although Dainsleif could barely discern their face from this lighting, he can just about make it out from the shape of their silhouette.

“To this day, you’ve faithfully done your duty as a loving husband– how can a person ever find a man better than you?” The shadow smiled cheaply. "Is that what you wanted me to say?"

The shadow tilted their head up, and a red glint refracted from a familiar pair of tinted glasses. They pulled out a chair and sat in front of him, chuckling angrily as they did so.

“I’d rather not. I’d rather ask how much can I pay you to die.”

Dainsleif coughed.

“... (Y/n)? My beloved, is that you?”

The abyss smiled back.

“I importune you to perish, and you call me 'beloved'?” They laughed sardonically. “Isn’t taking bounties your entire shtick? Why ignore me? Don’t tell me you had a sudden aversion for death.”

They rolled their eyes.

“You’ve encased me in your penthouse, locked me up, stolen my brushes and pens away– and lied to the rest of the world that I had cancer like my relatives when I didn’t and still don’t. So don’t call me beloved. You don’t have the right.”

Their voice was buttery smooth as if seducing him– yet it would be foolish of him not to notice the sharpness of their words– the bitterness it latched onto. It sounded like the truth, but Dainsleif believes they were nothing but lies.

Dainsleif cringed.

“But you do have canc–”

“Fucking bullshit!” The person slammed the table, but years of experience didn’t make the retired hitman flinch. “I was NEVER sick!!! You desperately wanted me to be– because– because YOU didn’t want ME to LEAVE!”

“You always talk about how I’m fucking corrupted– how I can’t be cured– how I’m terminally ill when you’re the one slipping poison in my coffee every fucking day!” They ranted. “You didn’t want me to live, Dainsleif. You wanted me to be sad and– and miserable like you are."

He heard nothing.

That’s not true. None of their words add up.

They loved him– (Y/n) loved him.

Didn’t they?

… Then again, didn't Dainsleif have awful memory?

“Every night, I prayed you’d be dead,” the shadow said, calmly. “And every morning I woke up, I was disappointed. It doesn’t help how your expressionless face is always the first to greet me.”

Dainsleif knew (Y/n) liked challenges– there's no way they want him dead. That's what the promise was for, right? The reason why they made him swear to never kill again once they're married was to make life a bit more exciting. That's what it was, right?

They're not trying to get rid of him from the very beginning, right…?

They clapped.

Dainsleif instinctively closed his eyes as the rest of the lights fiercely illuminated the entire room. Slowly, his burned eyes fluttered open, and his heart beat again after seeing the shadow’s face.

It was (Y/n)'s.

It was his beloved’s.

The same face who wrote the letter Thoma read earlier– the same bastard who schemed to prove the Kamisatos are "not involved" with the anti-mafia stunts they've pulled but not their supposed “spouse”.

"I know what you're thinking, and I know I can't kill you," they scoffed. "So I had to resort to some underhanded tactics. Getting you excommunicated was the best one. If I can't do the job, I'll give others a damn good reason to do it for me instead."

Dainsleif chuckled softly.

Adorable. What a kind gesture.

"You underestimate yourself. You can kill me if you just try."

They snorted.

"Best joke I've ever heard from you, Dain. Dry humor suits you."

"I wasn't joking."

"I know you weren’t," (Y/n) clicked their tongue. “I know one of the reasons you kidnapped me was to make me competent enough to maybe kill you someday. Hah. At least I can say that I tried.”

They scowled. Patronizingly, they tore their gaze away from him and instead looked at what was inside the room. Dainsleif was not the same. He couldn’t tear his gaze away to notice how he was trapped inside the Uyuu restaurant’s weapon room.

For the first time in years, Dainsleif smiled like a child.

Dogs like Thoma would never be able to understand what it’s like to have such a strong connection with someone that isn’t your master.

He could no longer care if they (Y/n) was the one that shoots him right there.

In fact, he wouldn't mind if (Y/n) died too.

Haha… Hahahaha….

They had always been dead to him for years now.

Dainsleif finally remembers everything clearly.

(Y/n) had never been "dead", he was just angry that they escaped successfully.

Angry to the point they were actually dead in his eyes.

“I don’t know why the Professor brought you here all tied up– but I’m growing impatient at just the sight of you.”

So is he.

Dainsleif chuckled. One other thing he expected was that Aether will send him here with the intent of killing him. Shame, however, that Dainsleif saw that coming from miles away.

(Y/n) stepped closer and Dainsleif frantically pulled at the ropes, feeling them loosen. Dain had to keep going. He needed to break free.

“Farewell.”

As (Y/n) reached out to grab their gun off the table, Dainsleif surged forward, throwing his weight against the ropes and snapping them. He stumbled to his feet, the chair clattering to the ground as he grabbed at the gun faster than they could. The patrons of Uyuu restaurant are completely unaware of the drama that had taken place below their feet, chatting and dining as usual.

“Tch!”

With years of experience behind his back, Dainsleif knocked the gun out of (Y/n)’s hand, sending it skittering across the floor. (Y/n) lunged for it, but he tackled them, driving them both to the ground.

(Y/n)’s eye twitched and they can tell Dainsleif was equally pissed. But even when he had them pinned on the floor, Dainsleif remained careful on how he should hold them down. That unspoken act of “love” makes them want to vomit, but there was no time for that.

Even so, something about his stare seemed off.

It's as if he wanted to drag them down.

It's as if he wants them to be as dead as him.

(Y/n) jolted upon seeing his eyes.

In an unexpected string of luck, (Y/n) kicked him off and wrenched the gun away from Dainsleif.

They pointed it at him.

Dainsleif did not take a step back or forward.

As (Y/n) preps the gun, like souls intertwined by fate and time, they both had one thought in mind:

“If you truly loved me, you should be dead.”

(Y/n) fired.

BANG!!!

…

They shot him.

They shot Dainsleif.

And they know they shot him because they felt his blood pressed against their body.

But they blinked.

Lord– all (Y/n) did was blink.

"Y-You finally know how to fire a gun."

Dainsleif has nothing to be proud of in his own life, but he can still be proud of them.

There's no way for (Y/n) to miss the wetness of his gunshot wound. Not when he's holding them into a tight hug. Despite bleeding out, his firm hand cradled the nape of their neck, humming contently. Dainsleif thought to himself that a shot from (Y/n) did not feel painful in the slightest. It almost seemed like an injection.

No… Something isn't right, why is he so close…?

Their stomach burned.

And they can almost hear his smile.

"Thank you, my beloved. I was tired of taking my own life…"

If he can't have them alive, well…

Dainsleif pulled out the dagger behind their back.

No one should be able to have (Y/n)'s corpse too.

Dain kissed them.

He traced his wet thumb against their cheek, painting their face red with his fingerprints.

Dainsleif grinned.

"I love you."

They choked out blood out of pure disgust. Their strength was ebbing away.

Haha… It’s almost like… They actually have stomach cancer…

Their vision began to swim and they felt their consciousness slipping. (Y/n) saw blood seeping through their clothes, staining them dark red. Tears streamed down their face as they realized what had happened. Dainsleif stabbed them. They tried to cry out loud, but their voice was weak and hoarse.

The blood on their clothes… It almost reminded them of their seventh date. The wine, his dazed look…

(Y/n) would laugh humorlessly if they could.

In their last moments, (Y/n) learned that it took strength to cry… to scream out the pain buried within their stomach. But they had no strength left and they dropped their gun.

Their only option was to wither away.

Dainsleif kissed their neck sloppily– (Y/n) couldn't tell if it was saliva or blood. The taste and scent of blood filled his senses. Surely from both of them. Maybe this is what Dainsleif meant when he spread rumors about his spouse constantly going through hemoptysis. Bleeding from the mouth does count as a sign of a terminal illness, doesn't it?

His thoughts are curt. His breathing is short. Yet, his unhinged eyes were near immortal.

Dainsleif no longer cared about his own life– not when the person he lives for wanted him dead.

The weight of their "atonement" falls on (Y/n)'s shoulders as Dainsleif weakly knelt along with them. As their vision dies out, he tightens his hug, hungrily leaning into their dwindling body heat.

Dainsleif was right.

They do look beautiful soaked in the blood of their enemy.

"I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you."

Even in death, he will not leave them be.

They sobbed.

No…

But they were so close…

In their final moments, (Y/n) could only look up at the ceiling and cry.

They clutched their feeble freedom and life, staring into the abyss as though it can provide them solace to answer the question:

"E-Eli… eli, lama sabachthani?"

#ansy-writes #yandere dainsleif #yandere dainsleif x reader #yandere #male yandere #yandere x reader #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin #yandere genshin x reader #dainsleif #dainsleif x reader #x reader #tw: yandere #tw: suicidal thoughts #yandere male #tag: hitman dain

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avirael · 2 months ago

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FFxivWrite 2024

Day 22 - Return (Free Day)

A part of Rael thought that all of this was going to smoothly. Or maybe for once they were simply lucky. Not only had they been able to free Flame General Raubahn from Ilberd’s imprisonment, it also seemed as if Sultana Nanamo truly wasn’t dead. Not only were this very good news on its own but it would also absolve the Scions from all accusations that had been made against them - public or not.

Going back to Vesper Bay and the Waking Sands still felt peculiar and so did hiding Raubahn there, but Yugiri had assured them that she herself had checked if the place was safe and not watched by their enemies. The Au Ra had so far proven one of their most loyal and competent allies and so Rael didn’t doubt her words.

Neither did they doubt the information Yugiri and her shinobi had gathered this time. Given the possibility that the sultana had only been poisened and was just asleep, instead of dead, the most likely person to know how to wake her up would be the one who had administered the poison. Suspiciously one of the sultana’s personal chambermaids had vanished from the palace without a trace only a few days after the incident.

Now Yugiri had apparently found out that the woman was hiding at no other place than the Silver Bazaar. The mention of this name alone made A’viloh’s ears attentively shoot up. Rael could only imagine what the prospect of returning to the place, that now was the closest thing to a home for him, must feel like.

Raubahn suggested that, to stay unseen for as long as possible and also to fasten their journey, it would be best to take a boat from Vesper Bay, around Crescent Cove and past the Beaconhill Lighthouse to travel to the Bazaar. For understandable reasons A’viloh visibly didn’t like this idea. But of course none of the persons present - except Rael - knew that A’viloh had not only lived at the Silver Bazaar for about a year but also had been washed ashore there after a shipwreck and likely the most horrible time of his life.

“Wouldn’t it be smarter to split up?”, Rael suggested. “If A’viloh and I travel over land, just the two of us, we could certainly stay undected. This way we could approach the settlement from both ways at the same time and make sure our target doesn’t get away.”

Nothing would happen to the Miqo’te of course on a simple boat trip from here to the Bazaar and he probably could not hide from this phobia forever but in this case Rael didn’t see any reason to make him unnecessarily uncomfortable. Besides, the reason they had brought up was in fact a good one and so it was decided that just as Rael had suggested the two of them would travel over land while the rest of them would take a boat. They would keep in contact via linkpearl and make sure both groups were safe and would arrive at the same time.

As expected their journey went without issues. The area was sparsely populated apart from Vesper Bay and Horizon but even there weren’t too many guards present and they passed without being recognised.

“We should speak to Kikipu first.”, Rael suggested as the two of them walked towards the settlement. “I am sure she knows best about everything happening at the Bazaar.”

Vehemently A’viloh nodded and if his tail hadn’t been hidden by his coat, Rael was sure it would have excitedly wagged back and forth. As they walked into the settlement Pipin approached them from the harbor side and decided to keep an eye on the gate, while A’viloh had already spotted the small Lalafell woman with the lavender colored hair.

“Hello…”, he said shyly as they stepped toward her, almost as if he felt bad for having vanished for so long without a word.

Surprised she turned around and looked up to the familiar voice. Upon seeing the Miqo’te in his disguise, which obviously did nothing to hide his identity from her, the surprise on her face turned into a mix of disbelief and relieved happiness.

“A’vi? Is it really you?”, she asked quietly.

The Miqo’te knelt down, pulled back his hood and apologetically smiled at her. “Hello, Kikipu.”

Instantly the Lalafell raised her hands to her mouth and her eyes got glassy. “A’vi! My boy! I missed you so much! I was so horribly worried something could have happened to you.”

A’viloh leant forward, hugging her tightly and she returned the hug in equal manner. “I missed you too! And I am so sorry I left without saying goodbye or at least sending a letter. Believe me, I thought about it. But I feared it would only put you in danger…”

“In danger?”, Kikipu asked a little shocked. “So something happened after all? There were rumours about turmoil in the city that day you visited the festivities at the palace.”

“I can’t explain everything now, but I promise that I will soon. Just know that whatever you heard about us is nothing but lies.”, A’viloh pleaded, holding her tiny hands tightly in his own.

“I thought so...”, she said and nodded firmly. “A few days after the festivities strange, unfriendly men in blue uniforms appeared here and started asking questions about you.”

“The Crystal Braves?”, A’viloh asked alarmed. “Did they harm you?”

“Harm me? You think I let anybody bully me?”, the Lalafell laughed. “I said you weren’t here and told them to get lost!”

A’viloh chuckled. “Yes, I can imagine that.”

“But why are you here now?”, Kikipu wondered.

“We are looking for a midlander woman, who was one of the sultana’s chambermaids. It is possible she is to blame for what happened at the palace that day.”, A’viloh explained and added, “But I promise, we only want to talk to her.”

“Meriel?”, the Lalafell asked surprised and A’viloh nodded. “Yes, that was her name!”

„I admit she seemed troubled when she returned from the city but I never would have suspected her to be involved in something bad…“, she seemed seriously unsettled by this news. „To think that maybe you got in trouble because of her… Oh, what a fool I was!“

„No, don’t blame yourself.“, the Miqo’te comforted her. „You did nothing wrong. I know you would never turn away someone needing help.“

So far Rael had only watched and it had been truly heartwarming to see the two of them reunited, but during the whole time Rael had also scanned the rest of the town, watching the others questioning some of the remaining villagers and keeping an eye out for their target. Rael preferred to find the woman in question before she noticed the unusual visitors and decided to flee.

„Can we speak to Meriel though?“, Rael asked impatiently and Kikipu hesitantly nodded and pointed towards one of the buildings. „She lives there.“

Once again A‘viloh hugged her.

„I promise we will speak later. But this matter cannot wait sadly…”

Kikipu smiled and patted his head.

“Just don’t vanish again without a word.”

#FFxivWrite2024 #FFxivWrite #ffxiv writing #ffxiv #ff14 #final fantasy xiv #final fantasy 14 #Aviloh Tia #Rael Hyskaris #Kikipu Kipu #this was one of the first things I thought about when wondering about which parts of HW I want to write #Its not a really important quest actually but I think for A'vi it is!#I like the connection I crafted here between him and a otherwise very unimportant NPC #its so nice to think about them being like chosen family #Kikipo who seems so passionate about her home and probably sees all of the people living there as family #and A'vi who lost every home or family he ever had and found a place there where he can finally feel safe and loved again #(I'm not crying - you're crying!)#also posing Lalafell and normally tall people is a pain...#if you actually can consider A'vi NORMALLY tall because he is tiny but my point still stands #8 more prompts to go...#still curious about the rest but also slowly quite exhausted by this XD

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eagle-writes · 1 year ago

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The enemy doesn’t arrive by boat

He arrives by limousine

#calligraphy #calligraphy practice #quotation #eat the rich

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marvelous-llama · 1 year ago

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EXO recs

<<original book

most of the mentioned works is 18+ NSFW, MINORS DNI

pls don´t hesitate to hmu, if any of mentioned links doesn´t work or you have suggestions for more fics... thank you so much for all the love and comments

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And... Cut! by @itstheoneshot

Sehun x fem!reader (wc - 2.4k) actor AU - smut Being an actress has its perks, especially when you are cast as a lead role in a drama with an insanely hot co-star.

People You May Know by @j-pping

Sehun x fem!reader (wc - 8k) lovers to strangers, idol AU - angst, hurt/comfort, fluff You disappeared three years ago without telling a soul -- leaving Sehun alone and devastated in the wake of your decisions. For three years you keep your secrets: that an eagerly anticipated future came far too early and forced you to rearrange your life. But when you finally rebuild the shards your shattered soul and try to step back into a semblance of who you once were, your paths cross once again. And Sehun demands the truth.

Forbidden by @itstheoneshot

Sehun x fem!reader (wc - 2.6k) friends to lovers, taboo relationship - angst(ish), fluff, smut, crack It’s the night of your mother’s wedding, you’re overwhelmed and anxious because you haven’t seen her in at least a year. You’re relieved though, on arrival as you see someone you know, but that relief doesn’t last for long.

Love Shot by @gamerwoo

Sehun x fem!reader (wc - 10.1k) soulmate AU, enemies to lovers, mafia/cop AU - angst, fluff(ish) The idea of soulmates was never something you worried about because you had bigger problems to concern yourself with. But when you find yourself in a life or death situation, forcing yourself to bond with the nearest person is the only way you can truly save yourself. Now, the idea of soulmates has become your biggest problem because you don’t know if you can unbond from the sarcastic, snarky man who’s just as secretive as your past that you want nothing to do with.

don´t delete the kisses by @kyungseokie

Sehun x fem!reader (wc - 5.6) best friends to lovers, fwb to lovers - angst, fluff, smut, romance what starts as a wayward attempt at getting petty revenge on your exes becomes something much more complicated between you and your best friend, and as it turns out, it has been happening for a while.

series

Gucci Lane by @bvidzsoo

Sehun x f.reader high school!AU - angst, fluff, suggestive High school is supposed to be easy, right? Not when you are classmates with EXO. They are the typical bad boys, whipping girls off their feet with their looks. You hate bad boys ever since your step brother tricked you, you hate them with all your heart. One day Oh Sehun suddenly enters your life. You must babysit his younger sister, because he is an irresponsible bad boy. I guess there’s a thin line between love and hate...

My housemate's man by @shaalk

Sehun x fem!reader, Jongin x fem!reader cheating - angst, smut, fluff Sehun is cheating on his girlfriend with me, her housemate. He thinks we're just using each other's bodies, and so do I at first. But then my heart suddenly comes into play.

Ride or Die by @mint-yooxgi

Sehun x fem!reader friends to lovers - action, angst, fluff, mature

defying contract by @myeoning-call

Sehun x fem!reader contract marriage, chaebol!Sehun - angst, smut The very hard life of a chaebol in Korea. Oh Sehun hated the control his family had over him and how he had to have a certain profile for the public eye. The slightest mistake could mean stock crashing for his family business. He had to be a good boy. But what happens when he falls in love with someone he’s not supposed to? Was it an older married woman? A man? No one knew, but he sure was going to use your presence to his favour to create the perfect aura his family was seeking.

#exo #exo x reader #exo recs #sehun #exo sehun #oh sehun #sehun x reader

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allandoflimbo · 1 year ago

Text

Never Again | (2)

Pairing// Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Type of story// Multi-Chapter

Bucky and Y/N hate each other. A lot. This isn’t your average enemies to lovers story. This is an enemies and lovers story. It will be dark. There will be sex.

Never Again masterlist || updated every thursday

Venice, Italy

Bucky looked at himself in the mirror as he put his earpiece in and then tightened his black tie around his neck.

He can’t remember the last time he wore a suit.

It was all black, minus his dress shirt which was white. His hair was starting to grow again, but it was still a bit short.

He had cut it shortly after Asa’s death.

His jaw clenched and unclenched as his thoughts continued to trace back to her.

He was in Venice for the gala where he’d meet the person who knew who had this real necklace. The person who killed Asa was expected to be here, too. Just the thought of being in the same city as them sent him off edge.

His eyes linger for a bit on his ring and then back up to his own eyes in his reflection.

He can see sam walking behind him into the other room in their suite. He’s also dressed, even though his rendez-vou will mostly take place outside the venue.

For a second, Bucky’s gaze falters.

Despite Bucky’s natural need for revenge, he understood Sam’s hesitancy for him to participate in his mission and so up close. A part of Bucky almost backed out when it became closer to today’s date.

He was even going to make a call, when someone reached out to him first instead.

Shuri, and then Fury.

Due to lack of resources from the Blip, Bucky was their best bet for this when it came to taking Hayden hostage and in their custody until the necklace was found.

Then, she’s to be arrested and taken straight to Wakanda.

Because of this, and because there was no more compound or tower, she would need to stay under watch until then.

Someone who had the power to hold her, and had a place with high security measures.

Bucky knew where they were going with this and he had refused profusely.

He was not going to keep his wife’s murderer in his house with him until the necklace was found.

It was out of the question.

But, then they had to play the the-world-is-at-stake game.

“We know this is hard but you are our only hope.”

And his least favorite: “Asa didn’t risk her life for nothing. She knew what that necklace in the wrong hands could do.”

They had convinced him to accept. Within days, his apartment was already prepped.

He had to hide his weapons for his own sake.

If he knew his gun was in an easy access area, he wouldn’t hesitate a second to kill Hayden. And that’s not what he would’ve wanted for the sake of Wakanda and this necklace.

He hates it, but it’s not what Asa would have wanted either.

He hates everything about this.

“You ready, man?” Sam asks quietly, walking over to his side table next to one of the queen beds for his ear piece.

Bucky lifts his suit jacket to where his gun is and makes sure it’s secure.

“Yeah. Our boat is outside? Can you bring me my glove?” Bucky asks him.

Sam walks over to him, handing over his glove for his vibranium hand.

“Yeah, they’re out there waiting for us.” Sam says.

Bucky nods and runs both his hands over his jacket.

He could do this.

He could not kill the one person he wants to the most.

Right?

—

“Captain. Sergeant Barnes.” One of the officials, a woman with long dark hair, greats Bucky and Sam as they step onto their canal boat. Bucky takes a seat and a deep breath.

“I’m agent Harlow with the FBI. I’ll be briefing you both on what to expect and who when you arrive,” her hologram iPad depicts photos of two men, one is blonde and the other has darker hair, “This is Alexei Roma and Giovanni Bianca. Alexei is our billionaire philanthropist. He is trying to get possession of the necklace for no reason other than adding another piece to his collection. He is innocent and doesn’t even know what the necklace is capable of. He’s the one hosting tonights gala where he and other billionaires and making ludicrous buys. Most of them black market,” she switches the photo over to the man with darker hair, “Giovanni. He’s Alexei’s biggest competition. His offer matches Alexei’s. Difference? Giovanni knows who the seller is. We assume they are there tonight.”

Sam frowns.

“This necklace seems so special, like it holds some kind of power. It makes me wonder why the seller is trying to get rid of it in the first place.” He says.

“Good point. Another thing for you both to find out,” the woman takes in a deep breath and switches the hologram photo to a photo of a file. She hesitantly looks up at Bucky, “After you’ve gotten information on where this seller may be, you need to find Hayden. We don’t have anything to help us identify who they are aside from their name and a scar on their arm. We do have height and weight identifications which should help a bit, and they are these,” she shows Sam and Bucky the numbers, “you’re looking for a needle in a haystack. Odds are, Barnes, since they are Hydra affiliated they will recognize you before you recognize them. Remember that,” Bucky doesn’t say anything but he enjoys the weight of his licensed P226 Legion handgun on his body, “Hayden is important because they know why that necklace is powerful. What it does. What it can do. We need to find that out. We need to also find out why they were running after it. Hayden is to be detained, unharmed, under Wakandan order, to not avoid additional conflict or attention to the seller or more buyers. Once we have possession of it, Hayden will be taken to Wakanda for further prosecutions decided by them.”

Bucky has to hold in his scoff at the end but he gives a short and barely noticeable nod anyway.

The gala is illuminated by blue and purple lights.

The music plays sensually as people stand around talking, drinking their choice of liquor, or making connections.

Bucky could feel the fire in his veins as he thanked the bartender for his scotch. It burned down his throat as he tossed it back.

He could feel it in his stomach as it settled there, hot and strong.

He missed being able to get drunk. Not that this, tonight, was a good time for it. But the last couple of days were ideal. The amount of drinks it’d take him to finally feel the start of it’s affects would take at least ten glasses of whiskey.

He longed for it.

He hadn’t feel numb like that in so long.

Anything to feel something other than that ache and emptiness in his life.

Bucky leaned over on the bar table as he discreetly tried to find Giovanni or Alexei.

It bothered Bucky that he didn’t know what Hayden looked like.

Every man that would look at him, even the bartender, made Bucky want to stand guard.

He hated this.

Bucky asks the bartender for another drink, wanting to feel more of the taste of the amber on his tongue.

“I’m Kassie.” A gentle and feminine voice came from Bucky’s side.

He turned around and saw a brunette, tall, and tanned skin. She was absolutely stunning. Her straight hair ran down her back, following the tight curvature of her dress, and her hazel eyes were piercing.

No scar.

She gave him another smile after asking for a drink.

“I come to Vanni’s galas quite often. Most faces are regulars. Haven’t seen yours, though.” It’s then he notices her accent.

British.

“First timer.” Bucky says.

“Something of interest caught your eye yet? The auction items are more prestigious than usual this year.”

“il tuo drink, signore.” The man hands Bucky his drink and Bucky thanks him.

“Not yet, but we’ll see.” He says.

The woman smiles again and nods.

“Vianni’s work — all of it is marvelous,” she takes a sip of her own drink, “some of the sellers this year are quite great as well.”

Bucky raises a brow at this.

“Do you know if there is a special area for sellers?”

She tilts her head at him.

“You’ve got quite the paper on you,” she whispers. She moves in closer to him and answers quietly, “They meet up there.” Bucky follows her perfectly manicured finger.

There’s a lounge on the top floor. Secluded from the rest of the room. Bucky can immediately make out the two guards at the entrance.

“Good to know, thank you, miss.”

“Kassie.” She correct him.

Bucky doesn’t miss her doe eyes and her sweet tone. He slyly moves his left hand behind his head in a way where his left ring finger falls in direct line with her sight.

Her demeanor changes majorly, but her kind eyes and smile still remain. She takes a small step back.

“It was nice meeting you.” She says shortly before taking her drink and walking away.

Bucky sighs as soon as she’s gone and runs a hand down his face.

He drinks his glasses until the end and then walks away, tightening his tie around his neck as he made his way to the stairs that led up to the other floors of the building.

“Not sure if you got that, Sam.” Bucky talks, walking smoothly past the other people.

“We did. You going up there now?” Sam asks.

“Halfway there.” Bucky says with finality.

Bucky is about to take the second flight of stairs when her hears commotion coming from across the floor. He looks up towards the VIP area where he was headed to, but that was also behind him, and frowns. There was a fight.

Bucky’s thankful that on the second floor he was on there was no one there.

“Dammit, might have to hold off for a few minutes or so.”

“What happened?”

“Some kind of argument. We can wait a little more. At least now we know where they will be.”

Bucky turns around back towards the main floor where the guests are. He takes in a deep breath and continues his walk back down to the floor.

“We’ve got someone on the other building across, up on the roof, and they’ve narrowed down on Alexei and Giovanni in that vip area. We’ll let you know when the coast is clear.”

It’s all just soft noise to Bucky now. Three fifths of this mission was complete. Now he just needed to wait.

“Might as well get another drink.” Sam says playfully in his ear.

“Don’t tempt me.” Bucky says humorlessly, “I just might.”

At least it’d give him something to do with his hands.

Buckywas starting to feel a little awkward as he just walked around in the middle of the crowd with nothing to really do and no one to talk to.

At least the music pulled him away from reality for a bit.

He was so lost in his own thoughts about how he’d approach Alexei that he didn’t see the person he accidentally just hit walking by.

His shoulder hit the person’s hard, and when he spun around to see who it was, his breath caught only momentarily.

Wow.

Your hair also cascaded down your back, and your heels elongated your legs perfectly.

You had been anxious to head up to where you knew the guy you were looking for would be, that when you accidentally ran into someone and you spun around and realized you were looking at no other than Bucky Barnes, you were genuinely and thoroughly caught off guard.

You were standing there gaping like a fish. For the first time not knowing what to say right away. That’s when you realized he had no idea who you were. He never saw your face.

Then you wondered why he was here. Did he know about the necklace? Were his Avengers friend here?

Shit.

Your mission was compromised.

“I’m sorry about that.” His voice.

That stupid, deep voice.

You used his lack of knowledge with you as a disadvantaged and you gave him a small smile.

You needed to run and tell Ivan right away. There was no way you were getting out of there without them catching on to what you were doing.

The manpower was unfair.

“That’s alright.” You say quietly, before spinning around, letting the only thing behind you a man who for some reason was still looking at you and the train of your black dress.

Your super expensive black dress.

Bucky couldn’t stop the soft blushing he felt creeping up his neck or the flutter her felt at your voice.

Once you’re out of sight he quickly shakes his head.

Not only were you pretty, that wasn’t what it was, but your eyes...

He turns once more to look back at you again and this time you’re halfway down the long hallway that led to the exit out of the building.

His eyes narrowed down at you like a hawk. As if you could feel his gaze on you, you turned around and your eyes met.

That was when everything changed.

Your left hand quickly went up to your ear piece.

“Ivan. We have a problem. Mission abort, meeting you at Rezou.”

You turned once again to meet Bucky’s eyes, like a moth to a flame, and that’s when his blue eyes traveled from your face to your left arm.

Bucky’s stomach fell hard. His blood also ran cold in his veins and all he could see was red.

And you definitely knew who he was alright, because the second he made the connection to who you were, your face also changed and you picked up your pace.

Bucky could feel his heart in his head.

“Sam, I got her.” Bucky says quickly, a hardness in his voice that he himself hadn’t heard in years.

“Who?” Sam’s confusion was palpable.

Bucky couldn’t even tell is he was running but he felt like he was at this point. He had to be.

“Hayden,” Bucky’s voice was unsteady, “Hayden’s a girl. I’m after her right now.”

“Buck-“

“I’m following her out the venue. I’ll need you, Sam. Stay on.”

Shit, he was already losing you.

You could feel the blood in your head and ears as you ran as fast as you possibly could outside in the Venice streets.

The winter soldier was after you. You hated him, but you knew how strong and much faster than you he was, but you would put up a fight.

“He’s here. The Winter Soldier is here.” You spat into your ear piece.

“What?”

You turned it off. You didn’t know what the Avengers could hack into and you didn’t want them over hearing anything.

The streets of Italy were already asleep, and your heels cladding loudly with stones as you ran as fast as you could.

You knew he was on your tail.

You could practically feel him right behind you.

You whipped your head back to see you were in fact correct.

You were screwed. You knew you were because this was a super soldier and he was a goddamn sniper. If he hadn’t caught you yet, it was by choice.

You wondered if he was tiring you out on purpose.

His face was angry as he spoke to someone.

You were right. They were all here.

You decided your best bet would be to create obstacles since your speed wasn’t what would win here.

You made a sharp right around a buggy and ran over the bridge over one of the canals.

“Fuck.” You grunted out as you felt your diaphragm already begin to spasm.

You only had one place you could go. Thankfully, it wasn’t that far.

You weren’t sure what you’d do when you get there.

You made another sharp left and then ran down a dark alley, illuminated by the orange lights of some of the homes, and ran towards the end, making a right.

Just like that, everything became more quiet. You stopped behind the wall and took a few deep breaths.

He could be right behind you, maybe did lose you, or was playing you. Whichever one it was, you had to take your chances. You turned your head towards the right and continued the way you were going, but much slower this time.

While you do so, you check your thigh to make sure your gun was still there where you put it.

It’s there.

You turn down another alley towards your left and then stop just next to a door. You look once more towards the direction you came from, relieved to see no one there.

Opening the door, you make your way inside the building.

You’re thankful you discovered this back entrance to your hotel earlier.

Hand tight on the handrail and the other grabbing the bottom of your dress, you start making your way up to your floor where your room is.

Room 302 of the Hotel Danieli.

One of your favorites.

With a deep breath you make your way over to the table next to the window and quickly remove your ear piece. You also unbuckle your gun from around your thigh and then run your hand through your hair.

You had not expected this.

You did not expect to see him.

You also weren’t an idiot. You knew you didn’t out run him. He was still out there waiting for you. You didn’t know what game he was playing at or how he even knew who you were, but you were willing to put up a fight. Your eyes quickly flicker away from the window as a soft gust blows your curtain just slightly.

Your eyes go to the roof across the street.

He was a sniper.

You quickly move out of direct sight of the window, bringing your gun with you, and rest up against your wall next to it.

You turn the safety off.

Wait.

Your eyes dart down once more to the open window.

The soft click of another gun’s safety being turned off is the only confirmation you need.

You can’t help the laugh, in the form of a scoff, that leaves your lips. Your hair fans over the left side of your face as you turn to look directly into the black void of the rest of your suite.

With footsteps that are barely noticeable, and as the lights illuminates his face, Bucky steps foot into your hotel bedroom.

His eyes are dark, his tie is gone, he shockingly broke a sweat, some of his hair was falling over his forehead, his mouth is in a tight line, and he’s got his gorgeous - oh hell you had always wanted one - Legion gun pointed directly at your head with both hands.

Hilarious; he still kept his vibranium hand hidden.

You just stared at him as he continued looking at you, saying nothing and doing nothing. It almost intrigued you. He looked furious, his top lip almost trembled, yet he was as still as a rock.

You let out a short laugh as you lifted your own two arms to point your own gun back at him.

“Put it down. Now!” He screamed the last word at you and you felt insulted.

You let out a little smile.

“I don’t think you’re really talking to me that way, now are you, Bucky?” Something about you knowing his real name irks him deeply and it does something to him he wasn’t prepared for. It makes him feel more human than assassin and it reminds him of what you took from him, “I’m not scared of you. I only ran because I don’t want you in my goddamn way.” You fire your bullet into the lamp right behind him at your last word.

Either of you barely flinch at it.

“I don’t give a shit. Stand down. Now.” He says again.

You squint an eye at him and that’s when Bucky has had enough. The speed he goes for you physically hurts you, and he aims his gun directly at yours, causing yours to fall apart in your hand and fly across the room; its sudden power making your hand burn.

With a growl, you unexpectedly grab him arm and twist his around so he’s the one with his back against the wall.

He was more powerful than you, but you were still somewhat skillful and did have some more than normal human strength. Catching him off guard was just enough.

Bucky’s breathing was hard as he pulled you around until he was back in an advantage point.

You smirk just after your head hits the wall hard.

“That was fun,” you knew what he was about to do. You saw it before you knew. He was too distracted in what was going on in his head that he did a piss job in hiding it. You quickly reach your right hand around until the cuff he had in his hand is closed and locked around nothing, “but frankly I’m bored, soldat.” Bucky could only glare back at you as you stepped your impressive black high heel into his shoe and moved your body closer to his, “It was nice seeing you again.”

Bucky didn’t bother to react at his blood boiling or to attempt to run after you again.

He had already made contact with everyone else and they were prepared for you.

If anything, it had all gone to plan.

What he didn’t expect was for you to be you.

Your perfume lingers in the beautiful hotel room and he’s out of breath as he watches you jump out your window, aiming for the waters below.

Idiotic.

Bucky closes his eyes tightly together and runs a hand through his hair.

He expects the voice in his ear, but he still hates it just the same; and it hits different. It’s a confirmation of what the next few weeks will be.

“I got her.” Sam.

“We should be landing in New York soon. We’ll have someone drive you to your home in the city. You said her room was ready?” Sam asks Bucky, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Bucky can’t find it in himself to vocally respond yet.

He also can’t wrap his head around the fact that this girl in front of him killed his wife just a few days ago.

This hydra agent.

This criminal, who he’d have to literally protect and keep in custody in his own home for god knows how long.

His eyes linger over the bruises on your legs and he doesn’t feel an ounce of sympathy for you.

You’re passed out and cuffed to the bed underneath you. You hit the water pretty hard. It was evident how desperate you were to get away from him.

He wants to kill you, and maybe he will once they have the necklace.

Bucky can only nod in response to Sam’s question.

“Five minutes to landing.” Sam says.

“It’s on autopilot?” Bucky asks, walking out of the plane’s medical area, closing the door behind them.

“Yes. Did you want to land us the rest of the way?” Sam asks.

“Yeah,” Bucky says softly, finally allowing his heart to feel again, “it’s been a while since I’ve flown.”

@03stepedwa @migueloharaslxt @unaxv

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #sebastian stan #marvel #marvel fanfic #bucky x you

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