#trust and believe that if i can find ways to intertwine my ocs in some way i will do it

[deimcs]

A LETTER FOUND IN THE POCKETS OF A DEAD THUG, THE PAGES ARE OUT OF ORDER AND STINK OF CHEAP WINE —

He is one of my best fighters, by Mystra’s tits, I want him back! And I don’t have to remind you that this is not the only reason why it is in our best interest to keep the lad away from civilization and well within our reach, where he can fatten our purses and keep the competition in check. Do not write back until you have news of him. I don’t care if you have to search the whole damn coast and turn every fucking stone you see on your path. Loudwater was a bust, but I know for a fact that snake hasn’t slithered back into the forest, too much of a scaredy-cat still. You saw what it took to beat all that dainty woodland shit out of him, he knows he can't go back to that life now. This is why he will be back with my chains around his pretty neck before long. Go west to Waterdeep and stay sharp, a storm is gathering on the horizon.

[spacebarbarianweird]

Into the Wild

Summary: Astarion and Tiriel travels through the mountains.

Just a plotless conversation about sex, memories, traumas and future. It's set seven years after the game and thirteen years before Alethaine's birth

Pairing: Astarion x OC (Tiriel)

Tags: fluff, post-game, named Tav, established relationship.

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Tiriel wakes up in the darkness of the tent. It’s so comfortable under the thick blanket. The air is fresh but not cold, and she sees the sun rays through a small hole near the entrance.

But it’s mostly comfortable because she isn’t alone.

Astarion trances on his back. His face is almost peaceful and Tiriel wonders if he knows she is awake.

He is like a marble statue, if marble statues were soft.

She smiles realizing he wears only his shirt and his naked legs are intertwined with hers.

Seven years. 

Tiriel has had this for seven years. Astarion being a complete mess some days provides Tiriel with love and safety and she is grateful for every moment they spend together. Yes, sometimes it isn’t easy. Sometimes he yells in pain or runs away disappearing for a few days. Sometimes he lashes at her and begs for forgiveness as if she were going to beat him. 

But it is worth it.

Tiriel would be ready to give all her blood for him to stop feeling so cold.

Well, not really, if she thinks about it. It’s stupid to die for someone. She wants to live for Astarion.

And maybe, she will live long enough to hear his heartbeat and see his real eye color.

“Love, I am bored,” Tiriel whispers in his pointy ear. He doesn’t react, deep in his reverie.

She sighs and releases herself from his grip. He lets her go easily. Before, it would be almost impossible. He would grab her for dear life and she knew he was just afraid she would disappear. That if he let her go she would never return.

Tiriel sits up. Her body itches with sweat (and something else between her legs) and she decides to wash herself in the river they have been following for the last month.

“Hm, it seems like I know what you are reliving right now,” she smiles looking below his waist.

She has no idea why he is without trousers (he was dressed when she went to sleep) but Astarion’s member is hard and sticks prominently under his shirt. 

Tiriel has to make an effort not to touch him.

That would be a violation of his trust. The most horrible thing she could do to him – to touch him in a sexual way while he is vulnerable. Even if he forgave her, their relationship would never be the same. 

“Well, if you want me, I will be close,” Tiriel touches his fingers and leaves the tent.

It’s almost sunset over the Storm Horns, the mighty eastern peaks. 

Too close…

Tiriel isn’t sure she can find her birth home in the Sunset Mountains that lie further to the West, but she has never been there after running away at the age of 15.

Her older brother tried to kill her. Pushed her from a cliff and if it weren’t for the barbarian rage she would have died. Others – siblings and cousins including Viren, Tiriel’s younger sister, were laughing and cheering – they finally managed to kill the elf, the evidence of their mother’s infidelity.

Viren was a nice child, two years younger than Tiriel, always weak and sick. But mother loved her – and even though Tiriel was jealous, she suppressed those feelings to take care of the little girl. Maybe Tiriel thinks she just believed Viren could share their mother’s love if her half-blood sister behaved like a good girl.

Viren laughed the loudest when Tiriel fell on the stones, breaking her hand and getting a concussion.

The Sunset Mountains are huge, she reminds herself. And she doesn’t know the way.

The last rays of light hit the earth and the world falls into darkness.

“So, what next?” Astarion asks as he leaves their tent.

“Good morning. Where the hell are your trousers?”

“Oh, Tiriel, you love seeing and touching what’s below my waist,” Astarion approaches her and pecks her cheek.

“I do love touching you there. But it doesn’t explain why you are suddenly without pants!”

“You also love using your tongue on me,” he pinches her nose. “Who knew your mouth was so skillful?”

Tiriel looks right and finally realizes that Astarion has just put his trousers to dry on a branch of the tree. 

“Oh, so you are a pervert?” He chuckles when he notices Tiriel watching him dress.

“Pervert? Said the person who loves eating me out on my period!”

“And you’ve eaten my ass at least … Let me think… Five times? I told you, I never thought you could do such things with your tongue!”

Tiriel giggles. 

“Said the person who got tired of my pussy and decided to stick his cock inside the other hole.”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t like it.”

“I just didn’t think you would want to do that on the ceiling.”

“No one saw us. Besides, it was up to you to be quiet.”

“Quiet?” Tiriel jumps on her feet and wraps her arms around his neck. “Were you able to stay quiet when I pegged you?”

“It wasn't the point back then, we were in the middle of nowhere. And you bit my shoulder on that ceiling.”

“Because I didn’t know it would hurt so much! I couldn’t walk the next day!”

Astarion puts his hands below her butt and in a moment she is already in the air, completely in her vampire’s power.

“Why walk if I can carry you around?” he grins. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not touching me in the tent.”

Tiriel swifts a stranded curl from his forehead.

“You aren’t my vampire fantasy to start with. And I wouldn’t want to wake up by you feeding on me or fucking me or… well, doing anything sexual to me.”

Astarion looks at the mountains.

“I’ve never seen mountains like that,” he whispers.

Tiriel turns away.

“Hey, chin up!” Astarion kisses her. “It's not like we will bump into your clan anytime soon. Even if we do, they won't hurt you.”

Tiriel nods and then points at a cliff.

“I wanna go there.”

In a moment, she is already piggy riding Astarion as he walks up the cliff. She feels like the abyss is tugging her down, but she knows Astarion won't let her fall. 

Tiriel decides to tease him.

“Stop biting my ear!” He says. 

“Or what?”

Suddenly she feels like she’s falling, but the moment her body realizes she is indeed falling into the abyss Astarion is already grabbing her hands as if she were a little child weighing barely anything.

“I am not getting tired, you know that.”

“But you are getting bored!”

Tiriel grabs his neck and climbs over Astarion as if he were a branch of a tree. His back is the only thing that prevents her from falling.

Then she wraps around him again and he keeps walking further up. 

When they reach the peak Tiriel feels dizzy. She collapses on the stones.

“Astarion.”

“Hm?”

“Listen, if you want another round in my butt I agree, but I don’t want to be upside down hoping those four people below us won’t notice anything!”

Suddenly Astarion gets dark.

“Not in the mood?”

“No. Maybe later, all right?”

“Sure. Something you dreamt about?” She remembers his erection. Damn. She was sure he saw something pleasant.

“Yes. Hells. Am I such a pathetic person that I get hard when remembering being beaten and raped?” He sits down beside her. 

Tiriel hugs him. “You can't control your body's reflexes. Do you want to talk?”

Astarion turns away.

“I- I… You just say such things to me and then I trance and remember someone forcing their dirty cock into my mouth. And then I think, how dare I kiss you. How dare I have sex with you after all the things I did and were done to me.”

“I think the concept of ‘purity’ was invented by slaveholders. The only dirt I see on you is dried blood and when you hunt some animals in the rain.”

“But still. I remember. My body remembers. You suck me and I see the same cock being forced into people who reeked of piss and sweat. You give me your blood and I drank fleas and rats with the same teeth. I touch you and…” He shudders but doesn't cry.

Tiriel puts her head on his shoulder. 

“Love, I can't erase your past. But I will tell you again. I don't care. I knew all those things from the start. I never saw you as something dirty.”

“Tiriel… Would you love me if I weren't a vampire?”

“I think this is a pointless question. Would you love me if I were a rich wizard who was afraid of the dark? WE ARE WHO WE ARE. I don't know what kind of person you were before. But I think I would love you anyway.”

“And if I stop being a vampire?”

“Then, I will be the happiest woman in the world. We will drink ale together and travel under the sun. And you will see your face in a mirror.”

Astarion kisses her cheek.

“Let’s keep going shall we?”

It takes them very little time to get back to the camp (Tiriel spends the whole time in Astarion’s arms) and prepare for the night road.

The winds howl and Tiriel’s mind decides to torture her.

The same winds howled when she was wandering the woods, with no armor, no weapon, and no one to hear her cries.

How far is she now from the place she was born?

She takes Astarion’s hand and he squeezes it. Tiriel doesn’t need to tell him what’s on her mind. 

He knows.

“Do you think any of them are alive?” he asks.

“Mother was rather old when she gave birth to me so I doubt it. My brothers and sisters? I guess. But I don’t think they remember me. And what about yours? Do you remember anything? It’s not like there are many elves in Baldur’s Gate.”

Astarion bites his lower lip. As they keep going it gets colder, the thick mist swirling around them.

Anyone sane would stay inside on such nights.

“I wasn’t from Baldur’s Gate. I came there from… somewhere,” he finally says.

“And your parents? Your family? Do you remember them?”

“Funny you only start asking me after seven years,” he chuckles.

“Never too late I guess.”

Astarion lets her hand go and clenches his fists. He concentrates on something vague, something that keeps escaping his tortured mind. 

“Sometimes I think I see someone, a woman. She tells me something I don’t remember. I think if I could see her again I would know who she is. I see an elderly man, his voice is stern and I am not comfortable being around him. Is he my father? Or a teacher? Or just a relative?” Astarion shakes his head. “I think I remember someone crying at my grave but she wasn't an elf. Maybe she was my friend? Her name started with ‘A’, and I remember trying to reach out for her but she just left, leaving me alone, dead in the grave, while my body was being transformed. It’s all shadows, Tiriel, all fucking shadows. Even what happened next.”

Tiriel curses herself silently for asking.

“And then you know, Tiriel,” he adds. “I thought I remembered every day of my slavery, but whole decades are missing. The whole 14th century was a mad show on Toril! The world simply doesn’t look the same as it did when I was alive! Whole regions disappeared, Dragonborns appeared on the Sword Coast, the whole Spellplague thing…”

“The Second Sundering.”

“Yes! And I…Just didn’t know it happened. My mind went blank for a few decades. And I know nothing good happened then, but it bothers me; I feel something else was taken from me. I try to collect myself but I just shutter to pieces.”

Tiriel sighs. Well, what can she say to him? Seven years is such a tiny amount of time in comparison with two centuries. Will he ever be able to feel whole again? Will the nightmares ever fully go away? Maybe if he could remember his past, if he could meet the people who raised him – would he heal?

They spend the rest of the night in silence, and as the sky starts changing its color, they set up the camp and hide inside the black tent.

Astarion takes his shirt off and sits still. With no breath and no heartbeat, he resembles a statue.

“Are you going to hunt?” Tiriel asks, kissing his shoulder. “You need to eat.” 

Silence. 

Another quirk she has had seven years to get used to. Sometimes he just doesn't speak at all. Doesn’t react to her words, deep in his abyss. 

“Then feed on me,” Tiriel says, caressing his cheek. 

The fangs pierce the skin of her neck. His lips get warmer with every ounce of blood gushing down his throat and then when Tiriel almost faints from blood loss, he lets her go and gently places her on the bedroll.

And then, he kisses her with his bloodstained lips.

“Thank you,” he murmurs lying beside her. He puts his head on her chest and Tiriel knows he does it to hear her heartbeat better. “Tiriel, let’s keep going West.”

“To the Swords Coast?”

“I guess.”

“Well, whatever. Tell me something I don’t know.”

“You usually don’t pay attention to what I say,” he complains.

“I just like hearing your voice.”

“Well, what would you like to know about?” Astarion asks, elbowing up.

“Hm… Tell me about Star Elves.”

“But keep listening, I will ask you questions, darling.”

‘Are you sure you were a magistrate, not a teacher?”

“Maybe I was both? Well, Star Elves or Ruar’Tel’Quessira spent two thousand years in Sildëyuir before they managed to get to Faerun almost seventy centuries ago…”

**

Tiriel falls asleep. She hugs her pillow and curls under a blanket. Astarion watches her in awe. 

She is so delicate and fragile he wants to hide her somewhere safe.

Well, she would never want this. Tiriel is a warrior, almost as strong as him, how can he even think about stripping her of her freedom?

The same freedom he fought for himself?

He nestles beside her. 

If he had family somewhere, would they accept him? Undead and married to a half-elf? Does he need their acceptance after all these years?

Maybe he really should forget it all. His life started back there, on the spelljammer when he realized he didn't hear his master’s voice.

Or when he basked in the warmth of the sun.

Or when Tiriel started smiling adoringly at him almost every evening at camp.

Or when she stood between him and that drow, claiming that Astaron could decide for himself.

Forgiving. Kind. Patient. Caring. 

She dressed him up after the murder of Cazador, when Astarion was numb. Burnt the palace up to the ground. She is so straightforward about everything she does.

And sometimes she drives him mad with her recklessness. 

He takes a book out of the sack he’d stolen a while ago.

On The Spellplague

Astarion needs to catch up with certain things. 

---

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[shovson]

some ppl in the motorsport zone have made a playlist for their ocs so i thought i'd jump in with mines too. tbh it's a wippy but also i kiiiiiinda don't really like long playlists so it's done to me. anyways. posting it here so i can talk about each song in detail

link to the playlist

brutal - olivia rodrigo

the playlist begins with tragedy as adren's own life takes a tragic turn after the death of his brother. with no more close relatives, adren's emotions are...unstable as he navigates the paddock alone.

faster than you - reaubeau, eke

adren has momentum in his car and he shows why he deserves a spot in the grid

gasoline - halsey

to be honest it was either gasoline or drive. but i think this one fits adren better. adren learns the car. something something something.

beck and call - july talk, tanya tagaq

adren and his teammate begin to move between each other but it feels like there's something wrong with the dynamic. and yet they find each other coming back for the other.

'cause im a man - tame impala

adren takes a hateful look at himself. he's sort of unsure about who he is. and thinks he sucks as he can't figure out what the hell anyone wants from him.

chamber of reflection - mac demarco

yeah we're getting into adren's sad boy era as he tries to figure out whether the emotions his teammate shows him privately are real. he lives with the shame of being unwanted in a public space, though he can't do anything about.

bad habit - steve lacy

adren wants to know how his teammate feels. he realizes that his teammate is nothing but a coward. at this point it's manipulative, with his teammate trying to make him stay. adren hates it. and yet he still yearns for him.

blue racecar - sassy 009

unstable relationships around adren as he can't seem to let go because he just wants someone to put in the same effort back!

cage - wyatt smith

despite everything, adren wants to help, knowing that this was one of his brother's strongest traits and he wants to have it too. he would sacrifice himself for his teammate over and over again, even if it means he destroys himself in the process.

trustful hands - the do

adren is surrounded by people who love him. and he knows that. adren lives in spontaneity. and trusts he'll always get back on his feet even after everything.

alive - pearl jam

after a crazy rookie year, adren makes it to his second year with a different outlook. he's still there. he remains resilient.

this feeling - my!lane

tbh this song is included in a lot of car playlists and i like how upbeat it is. it really suits adren a lot!

so many details - toro y moi

managing a relationship remains difficult for adren. there's so much that overwhelms him. the amount of shame his teammate still goes through internally and the mixed messages....adren isn't surprised he leaves. but they're still so intertwined.

babydoll - ari abdul

adren still wants his man sooooooo bad....

find a way - vallas, philsofie

adren begins to believe that he can do this. he's finding the balance. he's got everything he needs. he just needs to push himself closer to what he truly wants.

cure for me - aurora

the playlist ramps up again. adren knows who he is and he's unashamed. each win is nothing to hide. his own queer identity is not worth hiding. he takes pride in himself.

outsider (donald durand remix) - kavinsky, donald durand

for adren, it's still uncertain. he has to keep moving. and everything's building up. the song is instrumental and meant to depict how much adren wants to be champion. he knows it won't be easy and there's still so much going on. but he needs to just push that car to the finish line.

like a rockstar - chase altlantic

this is adren's celebration song. champagne sprays and confetti. the absolute riots, the mechanic screams, everything. he reflects on the journey.

still feel. - half alive

adren's got the energy to keep going!

take me where your heart is - q

still such a painful romantic, adren wants his partner to be just as emotionally vulnerable. and also adren loves. he's just full of unconditional love.

touch the stars - french 79, sarah rebecca

adren is optimistic. both for himself and others. he sees the goals in sight for more bright events. another championship? a stable relationship? healthy grieving? he's just needs to reach for it.

[heavenlyakin]

Part 9: You're Intertwining Your Soul With Somebody Else

Summary: Your life is forever changed when your most trusted advisor arrives home with an engagement treaty. As Queen of your Kingdom, you knew there would be sacrifices but little did you know how much the cost of these sacrifices would be. What do you do when your mind wants one thing but your heart longs for another?

Characters: Reader (some descriptions apply), Suguru Geto, Satoru Gojo, Bella and Ella (oc chambermaids), Sebastian (oc butler), Haku (oc child of Gojo and Reader).

Warnings: mentions of childbirth, struggles connecting with the baby, and feelings of anxiety, guilt, and grief.

Length: 2k

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The sleep you get that night is unlike any you’ve ever experienced. You’re sure it's from the exhaustion from having Haku. You don’t even dream, something that always unsettles you. Suguru is still sleeping by your side when you awake, lying on his side, his arm draped around your abdomen. He looks so peaceful while he sleeps. You’ve never seen him sleep, you realize. 

“Suguru,” you wake him gently, his eyes opening and cheeks grinning as he sees you. 

“My love,” he smiles, and you feel your face warm. He did hear you last night. 

“I’m sorry to wake you, but Bella and Ella will be here any moment to assist me.” You sigh, sitting up and feeling uncomfortable as you do. 

“It would be unfortunate to be caught here,” he sighs, shoving the covers off of him. He stretches briefly, then walks around to your side of the bed. “Shall I return tonight?” 

You nod. 

He smiles then leaves, leaving your lips burning for his. 

As the door shuts to the old passageways, Bella and Ella come through the dressing room, holding a lovely baby blue gown. 

“King Gojo had this fabric picked out just in case you had a boy. We had a pink one ready too, but we can always save that.” Ella chimes in, holding the gown up for you to see. It is gorgeous, matching the King’s eyes. It has white pearls and silver lace around the bodice and down the skirt. 

“I suppose I don’t get to rest today.” You sigh, tossing the covers off you. “At least I do not see a corset,” you grin, those have been gone for months now. 

“I believe it would be considered cruel to put you in a corset after birthing so soon.” Bella helps you out of your nightgown. “Do you need the nurses before we dress you? Do you have any pain?” 

You shrug. “I’ll be fine.” 

Today you must introduce your child to court with your husband. It is tradition here. You assume you will have to make the three-day journey to Satoru’s court soon. It has been postponed many times, neither his council nor yours wanting you to travel in a delicate condition. However, the child is alive and healthy, and no longer in you. You can travel. 

The twins dress you, styling your hair and applying powders and creams to your face to liven your tired look. By the end of the hour, you realize this must be what your mother felt like after having you. Exhausted and dolled up for the pleasure of everyone else. An intense pang of longing hits you in the chest, but you will it away. 

Ella suddenly hugs you from around the chair. “I’m just so happy for you and King Gojo. I hope I can find happiness in the same way you have.” 

The pity you feel is immense. 

“Thank you,” you smile at her through the mirror. “Thank you both for always being so attentive to me. Now, go get ready to meet my son.” 

They hurry off, needing to get ready themselves as you stated. It gives you time to pace around the room a few times to get your legs warmed up for what will be a long event of standing and holding your child. 

A knock at your door startles you. When it opens, you see your husband, wearing attire similarly colored to yours. His overcoat is the same baby blue fabric as your dress, the rest of his outfit white and silver. He has his regalia on, and you realize you need to go select a tiara for the day. 

“Good morning,” he smiles, waltzing over to you and taking your hands. 

When he kisses you, you feel your stomach turn. 

As if you’re doing something wrong. 

“Thank you for the dress. It is very beautiful.” You release his hands and he grins, looking down at you in it. 

“You’ve given me everything I’ve always wanted. This is the least I could do.” He caresses your cheek and you smile. “Where is your crown?” 

“I forgot to tell Bella to get me one. We can select one now if you’d like to help.” You suggest and he nods. 

You lead him to the dressing room, opening the wardrobe where your tiaras are stored. He looks at them all carefully, mostly taking note of the silver ones that will best match your jewelry and dress. He picks up one with tear-drop diamonds that was your mother's. 

“How about this one?” He asks, holding it in front of you. 

You feel your heart flutter. “It was my mother’s. I would love to wear this one today.” You take it from him, walking over to the mirror to put it on carefully. “We better go to the throne room now.” 

He holds his arm out, and you place your hand on him. He guides you out of your room. The castle is alive with noise, everyone running around you and your guards. However, you have not seen your nurses or child. 

“Where is Haku?” You ask Satoru.

“The nurses took him to the throne room already with the guards. I didn’t want everyone flocking to us and him at once.” He tells you and you nod.

The guards part way for you and Satoru to go into the throne room before anyone else. The entire court is outside the doors, watching you closely and chattering. You hear words like “boy,” “girl”, “bet,” and “heir,” as the doors close. 

“It seems there’s a bet going on if we’ve had a boy or girl.” You laugh, as Satoru looks at you. 

“I think they all are just bored,” he shrugs. 

A bassinet is placed beside your throne, white and unrevealing of the gender of your child. You approach it slowly, finding your baby boy asleep solemnly. He’s dressed in simple white clothing, matching his hair. He makes quiet noises as if he’s dreaming. You stroke his white hair, feeling the warmth of him in your palm. He smiles as you touch him, recognizing your touch, you think. You smile, feeling the first connection with him since he left your body. 

“Amazing, isn’t he?” Satoru’s arm wraps around your waist. 

You just smile at Satoru, unsure what to say. He is a baby, not much to note. He is cute if that’s what he’s pointing out. You love the child, you’re sure of it, and know if anything were to happen to him you’d be distraught. However, you’re not sure why Satoru is fawning over him the way he is. 

“Haku —--- Gojo,” Satoru announces his name with both of your last names, picking up the child and cradling him in his arms. “You will be a great King.” 

You laugh, “Let’s get him through infancy before we worry about that.” He places the babe in your arms, and you smile down at the child, feeling warmth flourish in your chest. 

“Guards, open the doors. Let the court come look upon our child.” Satoru commands them and they do. 

Courtiers rush in, stopping just in front of the guards, making a makeshift aisle amongst themselves in the middle of the room. Everyone is giddy with excitement, some bouncing from side to side trying to peak up at the baby in your arms. 

“Thank you for gathering here this morning.” You decide it’s time to start. “The King and I are immensely proud to announce the birth of our son, Haku —--- Gojo.” You look down at him, seeing he’s still asleep despite your loud voice. “If you would like to step forward and greet the child, please do so orderly.” 

“Also, we would appreciate it if no one touches the child. He is newly born and we want to avoid any illnesses. If you believe yourself sick, please do not step forward. There will be other times when you may meet Haku,” Satoru announces and you nod. 

You had not thought of that. It’s smart, considering both you and him have lost your parents to sickness so young. 

The line forms, and you spend most of the morning standing there, only taking breaks when Haku becomes unruly and needs fed and changed. It gives you and Satoru a chance to eat and talk to each other away from the court, while they anxiously wait to meet Haku. 

“I’m becoming quite tired,” you admit to Satoru during the second feeding. It’s nearly noon now, and you’ve been talking and showing your son for nearly three hours. “The rest of the court can meet him at the ball tonight.” 

“Do you wish to retire to your rooms?” Sebastian asks, taking the empty plate of food from you. 

“I do,” you tell him. “Satoru, will you announce the ball?” 

“Of course,” he smiles, squeezing your hand softly. “I’ll come check on you after the courtiers are satisfied with my presence.” 

“Check in with Camilla and Satoru, as well. We need updates on the harvest this year. I’m sure you know what needs to be taken care of when they give you the update.” 

“I do,” he smiles. “Please get some rest.” 

–

Bella and Ella are waiting for you in your rooms, helping you undress and get into your robes. You pass out the moment you hit the bed, ready for another few hours of uninterrupted rest. When you awake, the sun has set and Ella and Bella are playing cards in the corner of your room. 

“You’re up!” Bella says with surprise. 

“How did you rest?” Ella asks. 

“How long have you two been in my rooms?” You ask, propping yourself up on the pillows.

“The nurses asked us to watch over you, just in case you started to bleed again or needed someone quickly. They are with precious Haku now, just across the hall in the nursery.” Bella tells you, laying down a card, making Ella frown. 

“I appreciate your watchfulness, but I don’t think you’d noticed me bleeding out from all the way over there.” You sigh and laugh. 

“Oh, I’ve been checking every half hour,” Ella laughs. “Don’t worry, we won’t let you die on our watch.” 

“Has the King come by?” You ask. 

“He has, three times. Once an hour.” Bella tells you. “Actually, he should-” 

A knock at the door interrupts her. 

“-----,” your name from Satoru’s voice echoes in the room before he enters. 

“I’m awake finally,” you announce and he comes to sit on the bed with you. 

“Ladies, can we have some privacy?” He asks and they nod, running off out of the rooms. 

“Privacy?” You raise an eyebrow at him. “I hope you know there is nothing you’re getting from me after yesterday. Nothing is going in or out of me for several months if I can help it.” 

He laughs, laying down on your pillows. “I just wanted to close my eyes for a moment. I’ve been tending to all the duties you’re excused from while you heal.” 

Satoru does close his blue eyes, looking peaceful as he lays in your bed. You let him lie there for several minutes, until you worry he’s falling asleep. You shake his shoulder. 

“We have to get ready for the ball.” You tell him. 

“I need to talk to you about something first.” He tells you. “I got distracted by your bed. I swear it’s more comfortable than mine.” 

“I swear it’s the same,” you laugh. 

“We need to make a show at my court,” he tells you and you nod, expecting this. “I want to leave after Haku is a month old and strong.” 

“Have you talked to the council?” 

“I have,” he confirms. “Everyone but Suguru agrees with us leaving in a month.” 

You sigh. “You two love to fight in council meetings.” 

“Talk to him, perhaps he will listen to you. He usually does.” Satoru narrows his eyes at you then looks away. 

“I will. Now, let us get ready for our child’s first ball.” 

[casualpastelgay]

Title: Good Ending?

Pairing: Zen(Hyun Ryu) x Cherry (OC of @darkta)

Rating: General

Word Count: 1704

Type: Angst

Notes: I wrote this piece for @nostringsdetached! It was a collaboration piece with the owner of Cherry, @darkta! I don’t write angst very often, it was a very nice change for me. You can get the entire zine for no cost [here]!

~*~*~*~*~

“I’m home.” Cherry sighed as she opened the door to her apartment. A small twitter was the only response to Cherry’s announcement, but it nonetheless turned her dreary expression into a small smile.

Her heels clicked on the hardwood floor as she made her way over to her parrotlet’s cage. “Hi, Skittles.” She cooed to the little, sky-colored bird. Cherry inserted a finger between the bars of his cage and stroked his neck, which Skittles leaned into happily. “Work was tough today.” She murmured, idly twirling her fingers in Skittles’ cage as he begged for more attention. “You know what that’s like, right?” Cherry asked, earning a small sneeze in response from her companion.

Cherry giggled at her bird’s antics as she removed her fingers from the cage to open the artfully crafted door. She then let Skittles hop onto her finger then flitter up to settle in one of her large hoop earrings. “The manager was hard on me today.” Cherry spoke softly as she squatted down to remove her heels, careful not to stir Skittles from his resting spot.

She placed her shoes on the rack by the door to her apartment as she continued to relay her day to Skittles. “All of my designs were declined today, and on such short notice.” Cherry placed a kettle on the stove and picked an English breakfast blend teabag out of a rather large selection. She was sure the powerful black tea would cure her conscience of any doubts in her own abilities.

“The building process of the costumes was supposed to start last week; I can’t believe they had the nerve to ask for a redesign!” Cherry fiddled with the purple ribbons in her light auburn hair. “This is going to be so stressful for the whole team.”

The kettle sang as the water boiled, Cherry quickly picked up the kettle and poured it into an ornate teacup. It was one she had painted herself, she was very proud of it.

“You think we can do it, Skittles?” Cherry asked her parrotlet as she stirred her tea with a little silver spoon. Skittles pecked softly at her earlobe in response, like he was scolding her for doubting her skills. “Thank you for your honesty.” Cherry chided the bird lightly, raising the teacup to her lips and taking a dainty sip.

Once Cherry had finished her tea and returned Skittles to his cage, she padded towards her workspace. Fabric swatches and sketches adorned the walls of the small area, some spilling onto the floor. She tried to keep it tidy, but when she stared at her muse she sometimes couldn’t help but let her ideas overflow.

In the center of the room, he stood proudly, her muse. Or at least, what Cherry could create of him. Donned in an elegant white and gold suit was her prince, Zen. In reality, it was a mere mannequin. But with how bold and beautiful her suit design stood, it breathed life into the figure. It started as a small project, just sketching and dreaming, but in Cherry’s heart there was so much love for this man that a magic seemed to take form.

“Zen…” Cherry sighed, running her fingers along the golden trim of the suit’s sleeves, imagining his hands and the warmth they would hold. Her eyes traced up and down the mannequin, fingers quickly following as she fixed any tiny imperfections she noticed. With how long she had been working on the suit, there were little things to change or fix, but it had to be perfect. He was perfect.

A buzzing sound startled Cherry. She fished through her pocket for her phone, smiling to herself. Cherry had installed the pockets on this dress herself after agonizing over it for what seemed like ages. On her phone screen was a single notification, one from the app Mystic Messenger. It was Zen.

Her love, yes, was sadly a fictional creation. However, Zen had helped her through so much in her life that she barely minded. It would be lovely to see him, to touch him, to be held by him. But some things couldn’t be helped.

Cherry tapped on the notification to open the app, seeing that she’d unlocked a new chatroom. As she read, tears budded in her eyes.

“I wish I could be there to help you, but I still can’t cross over dimensions…”

“Oh Zen, if only you could. If only you could be here, standing in front of me.”

“I want to get to know you better… but it’s sad that all your answers are already determined.”

“If I could, there’s so much I would tell you. There’s so much I would do with you. There’s just so much…”

“I’ll always be here so that you can come see me whenever you want… use me.”

“Don’t hesitate to come find me…”

Cherry choked back a sob, a stray tear curling down her chin as she continued to read.

“I realized that our thoughts and feelings…”

The stray tear glistened like a glass heart, falling so delicately to crash into the screen of Cherry’s phone.

Heat suddenly coursed through her hand, causing Cherry to gasp and drop the phone to the floor. She stared down at Zen, his hand pressed up against the screen as he smiled at her through the cracks in the screen. Lights blinded Cherry, almost causing her to stumble backwards into a workbench, but she caught herself just in time. Time seemed like it stopped but was racing forward at the same time, it was nothing she had ever felt before. What was this sensation?

“Transcend dimensions.”

Cherry gaped as she heard a familiar voice, though this time… It wasn’t coming from her phone.

Her eyes slowly raised from her phone, now shattered on the floor, to the mannequin that stood before her. Though now, it wasn’t merely a mannequin.

“Zen?!” Cherry let out a strangled noise, half way between a gasp and a cry.

“Jagiya~” Zen breathed, a smile stretching across the face that hadn’t existed there moments before. He took a step towards her like he had never been trapped in a lifeless prison. Like he was real.

“Zen…?” Cherry said again, incredulous. Had she gone mad?

“Cherry,” Zen wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him.

The tears that had been stunned into stopping spilled over with new fervency as Cherry was held by her love, something all logic told her was something that would never happen. Could never happen.

Zen pressed a loving kiss to her forehead, stroking Cherry’s hair as she sobbed. “Shh, Jagi, I’m here.” Zen cooed, allowing his love to press her face into the princely suit she had made for him.

His heart beat, she could feel the heat of life in him. It all made no sense, could she allow herself to be convinced this was real? But it all did feel… So real. “How did you get here? How…” Cherry choked out, deep blue eyes meeting shimmering red.

“I’ve always been here.” Zen spoke softly, peppering soft kisses down Cherry’s cheek to clean her of tears. “I’ll always be here.”

Cherry hiccupped as her mind continued to attempt to process what had happened. Even if this wasn’t real, she could still allow herself to enjoy it. Right?

Zen stopped short of pressing his lips to her. No, no, he was taking things much too quickly. They hadn’t even been on a proper date yet. “Cherry?” He asked, releasing her and taking a step back.

“Yes?” Cherry asked, a timid blush creeping across her features as the handsome man slipped down to one knee.

“Would you care to join me on a date?” Zen held a hand out to Cherry, hoping with all the light in his heart that she would take it and come with him.

Cherry balked, fingers trembling as magnets seemed to draw her hand to his without her mind needing to process his words. “Of… Of course, Zen.”

Zen smiled when Cherry took his hand, leaning forward to press a kiss to her fingers. “Jagiya, thank you.” He rose to his feet, his own fingers intertwining with hers. Should he abandon this pretense? Just sweep her off her feet like he had yearned to for so long? Or was that too much for right now?

The blush on Cherry’s face deepened as her prince stared down at her, he seemed to be considering something. “Where do you want-“ Her question was cut off by a surprised yelp as Zen lifted her off her feet into a princess hold.

Cherry averted her wide eyes when Zen’s face was once again, so suddenly close to hers. “Sorry, Cherry, I have waited so long for this day.” Zen chuckled, pink caressing his own features. “All men are wolves, you know.”

“I trust you.” Cherry murmured, meeting Zen’s eyes for a moment before looking away again.

Zen blinked, taken aback for a moment by the honesty in his love’s words. “Then what are we waiting for?” He spun to face the front door of the apartment, still easily holding Cherry’s small figure in his arms.

Cherry stared wistfully into the smiling man’s handsome face as he strode towards the doorway, a faint skip in his step. All true meaning slipped away, all that mattered was him and her. He was overdressed to be outside, she wore no shoes; but still the door opened to a new life, a new path.

A familiar warmth spun through Cherry, like the heat of her phone before she dropped it. It seemed to resonate from Zen. A sparkling light blinded her for a second time, though she stared through it to meet Zen’s gaze. A weightless feeling surrounded her, like Zen had let her go but she still floated in the light. She could still feel him against her.

The couple seemed to evaporate there in the doorway, the light encasing Zen brighter than ten suns but as gentle as a lamb. Were they here? Were they there? Were they anywhere? Neither could tell, but since they were together, no reality mattered anymore. To Cherry and Zen, this was perfection.

Good Ending?

~*~*~*~*~

Want more? Visit my [masterpost]!

If you enjoyed, please also consider donating to my [ko-fi]!

[redvoid-40]

A Game for a Kiss

Don’t ask me where this came from. I’ve watched BSD a couple months ago and of course I got the hots for the feral rat-man. -.-

Anyway, slowly I came up with a little plot for an arc with some OCs (weird calling them OCs, when they’re all named after past writers but oh well) and even thought about developing it, but since I’m not in the mood to write a whole multi-chaptered fic, I decided to just write this interaction between Fyodor and my main OC for the BSD-universe, Mary Shelley. You know, as a treat. >.<

I know the fandom is super small, but I thought someone might enjoy this, so here it is! :)

Also, Fyodor might be OOC (it’s hard to get a full understanding of his character) but I see him as creepy-pretty, with no qualms in manipulating women in ways that border on dub-con. So... TW: some making out; Fyodor’s thoughts making it clear his morals are more twisted than a pretzel. 

Anyway, enjoy! :)

Part 1 / Part 2 (NSFW) / Part 3 (NSFW)

“How about a game?” Fyodor proposed, smiling from ear to ear as he moved a chessboard from the side table to the coffee table in front of them. It was small, with tiny and expensive crystal pieces that had a purely decorative role, but he had never minded playing with valuable and irreplaceable things before, so why start now? Much worse to die of boredom than to shatter a hundred-dollar pawn. “I heard you had quite the reputation at the Chess Club in Oxford.”

“It’s been a few years since I last played,” Mary admitted as placed her glass of anise-infused gin on the coffee table and reached out to touch the white king, as if she was caressing a long-lost lover. “Not sure I’ll be a worthy opponent to you, Mr Dostoevsky.”

“How about I give you some impetus then?” Fyodor asked, raising a sole eyebrow as Mary’s eyes shone with interest. “If you win, I’ll give you something. Something I know you want from me.”

Mary quickly pulled back, like a child caught with her hand in the cookie-jar. “You’re already doing so, and I’m eternally grateful for it. Helping me retrieve Adam and right my wrong is all I could ever hope for and more, Mr Dostoevsky. There’s nothing el-”

“A kiss.”

Fyodor’s smile widened and his eyes darkened as a pink dusted over Mary’s cheeks. Her dark eyes made it hard to discern her emotions, but if he were to guess, Fyodor would bet her pupils had doubled in size at his indiscretion.

“I can feel your gaze on me, Doctor Shelley. Every time I walk in a room, your eyes peruse my figure like I’m an appetising treat,” Fyodor spoke, feet planted on the floor as he projected his body forwards, elbows on spread knees and the fingers of his hands intertwined. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you are interested in me in a way that’s not entirely professional or proper.”

Mary reached for her lowball glass and quickly brought it to her lips, downing the rest of her gin in a way that also wasn’t professional or proper. Fyodor watched her throat move, amused and admitedly a bit impressed at the pace at which she was draining her gin, wondering if maybe he should have proposed a drinking game instead. Who would fare better, her with her gin infusions or him with his chilled vodka?

“... and if I lose?”

Fyodor blinked, lazily trailing his eyes up her chin, passing by her pouting lips, blushing cheeks and up to dark eyes that stared at him so attentively. Lips curled at the corners, he raised a single eyebrow, urging Mary to continue.

“If I lose the game, what would you demand as compensation?” She clarified, and Fyodor exhaled at how she pressed her thighs together beneath her knee-length, black skirt.

“I’m not sure,” Fyodor said. “Why don’t you let me decide later? If I win the game, that is.”

Mary’s eyes turned away from his, moving down to gaze at the empty glass in her hands as some luster in her eyes darkened into distrust. “I think I’ll pass on your offer, Mr Dostoevsky. A kiss for an IOU? Your proposition doesn’t sound fair to me.”

Fyodor retreated, letting his spine fall comfortably against the back of the sofa as an airy laugh left his lips. The woman wasn’t as foolish as he had expected, at least; despite admitting in all but words she was enamoured with him, her shackles remained raised, certain she couldn’t trust him as far as she could throw him.

Must be a woman’s intuition, Fyodor thought, remembering the looks he so often received from the fairer sex throughout his late adolescence and adult life. So many inviting smiles were thrown his way, only to morph into barely veiled jitters when he got close enough to touch. For all his years of manipulating the brightest of the brightest to have his way, Fyodor still hadn’t figured out how to lull women into unravelling themselves for him without promises of money - or some other stimulant - as reward.

“If I win I vow not to abuse my freedom, and will only ask for something of equivalent value to what I offer,” Fyodor proposed, lips relaxing in a smile he hoped Mary deemed trustworthy. “And if you feel I ask too much, you can deny me and I’ll give up my reward altogether. Does that sound fair, Doctor Shelley?”

Mary looked at him through lowered lashes and he could almost hear the gears turning in her head, lust and reason rotating in opposing directions in a struggle to decide.

“Fair enough,” Mary spoke at last, and placed her glass back on the coffee table. Her hand then moved to the chessboard and spun it around so the white pieces were close to her. “But I play white.”

Fyodor almost protested, but the smile Mary threw his way demanded enough endearment that he’d allow her this little bit of despotism just this once. 

He found he rather liked it.

---

To Fyodor’s surprise and satisfaction, Mary proved herself to be a worthy opponent. For the first time in years, Fyodor stood over a chessboard with furrowed eyebrows as he macerated the pad of his thumb between his teeth to the point he could taste iron on his tongue.

“Don’t do that. You’re hurting yourself.” 

Fyodor had just moved his knight when a hand seemed to appear out of nowhere and gently wrapped around his wrist to guide his thumb out of his mouth. Purple eyes narrowed, shooting up from the board to Mary, but his scowl melted into something almost benign at finding the woman hunched over the board, positively pouting. Her hand released his wrist, leaving an imprint of heat on his flesh despite not touching skin, and floated back to her, fingers twitching as they hovered over her pieces, debating their next move.

There was a brief knock on the doors before they opened and in walked Ivan, pulling Fyodor’s attention just in time to see the narrowing of his silver eyes as they fell on the back of Mary’s head. The glare disappeared as soon as it came, so when Mary turned around to greet the newcomer with a polite smile, he responded with an enormous grin and flamboyant mannerisms.

“I’ve come to check upon you, see if everything was alright,” Ivan announced as he stood behind Mary, silver eyes fixed on Fyodor with adoration. “It’s almost midnight.”

Mary’s eyes widened in surprise as she reached for the phone she had forgotten on the cushion by her side. “Oh my, there are twenty calls from Jane. I really should take this thing off silent mode.”

Fyodor’s jaw tightened as Mary’s focus shifted from their match to her phone. “Ivan,” he called with a firm voice that demanded to be the centre of attention again. “Please, let Doctor Shelley’s companions know she is safe and sound with me, and that we’re both occupied at the moment. Also, would you be so kind to have someone bring us something to eat? Something sugary would be best. I will have a drink as well. Vodka, chilled but no ice,” then he lowered his eyes back to the woman in front of him and smiled as he motioned to her empty glass. “Doctor Shelley, would you care for another?”

“Ah, I-”

“A gin for the lady, Ivan. Thank you.”

Ivan’s smile didn’t falter as he bowed his head. “Of course, I’ll have someone bring your drinks. As for sweets, I believe there are a few strawberry shortcakes in the fridge. Would that be to your liking?”

This time, Fyodor remained silent as he stared at Mary, giving her the illusion she had a say in this whole matter, that she could choose her treat in the way she couldn’t choose to refuse a drink. 

Mary’s eyes were glued to his and once again he noticed how her thighs rubbed together at his attention, leaving her phone forgotten by her side. Blushing, she craned her neck to glance at Ivan and nodded. “That would be lovely, thank you.”

“Very well. Someone will bring everything here briefly,” Ivan said, moving his eyes back to Fyodor. “If you need me-”

“We will be fine,” Fyodor dismissed, purple eyes fixed on Mary as he gave her a smile that showed too many teeth. “I believe it’s your turn, Doctor Shelley?”

Mary nodded, turning her gaze to the chessboard. Her hand hovered while her brain readjusted to their match, reviewing the last rounds as it calculated the best moves she could make. It took her only a couple of seconds to review their entire game and make her move.

“Good,” Fyodor said, right hand rising to his lips out of habit, only to stop midway as he felt an intense stare on him. When he looked up, Mary was giving him a look that quickly morphed into a smile when he aborted the movement. He snorted and smiled back. “Worried about my delicate fingers?”

“You’re the one who said you have an anemic constitution,” Mary replied, eyes dropping back to the board. “You shouldn’t hurt yourself; it might take longer than usual to heal.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Fyodor said, letting his eyes move up and narrow slightly at finding Ivan remained still behind Mary, staring at him with a doll-like smile on his face and wide eyes. “Ivan, our drinks?”

“Oh, of course! My apologies,” the man said before bowing theatrically. “I’ll leave you to your match. Good night!”

Fyodor nodded as Mary turned back to Ivan, throwing a polite “Good night, Mr Goncharov”, before once more focusing her attention on their game, waiting for Fyodor to take his turn. He grinned, purple eyes fixed on her as he made his move, enjoying the way Mary’s lips pouted as she concentrated.

He really was having fun playing with her.

---

The game came to its inevitable conclusion hours later, just as the sun was peeking over the horizon and the birds chirped outside the window. After a couple slices of strawberry shortcake and a few refills of vodka and gin, Fyodor let his body fall back on the sofa, smiling from ear to ear as he stared at the pouting woman in front of him.

“Check-mate, Doctor,” Fyodor purred, purple eyes darkening in satisfaction. 

Mary stared at the board for a couple more seconds, as if a solution to her defeat would present itself to her. But when none did, she sighed in acceptance as her forefinger gently laid down her king.

“Don’t beat yourself, Doctor. It was a splendid game; the best I had in years,” Fyodor commented.

“Thank you, Mr Dostoevsky. But your words don’t make defeat taste any less bitter.”

“I guess not,” Fyodor said. “Especially since I have to claim the spoils of my victory from you.”

Fyodor didn’t miss the glance Mary threw his way, clearly torn between enticed curiosity and rational diligence, clearly still wary that he hadn’t made his wants known before their game despite his guarantees. Those intelligent eyes clouded with lust made him lick his lips, and her breath hitched in response.

“I want… a kiss.”

Mary’s eyebrows shoot up. “What?”

“I promised to ask for something reasonable, didn’t I?” Fyodor mused. “What’s more fair than to ask for the very thing I offered?”

“But then… why did we play?” Mary asked, head dropped to the side.

“Well, I don’t feel like moving at the moment,” Fyodor said, letting his knees fall open as his eyes ran over the woman in front of him. “So, since you’re the one owing me a kiss, you come here and give it to me.”

Fyodor had never seen someone’s skin change colour so rapidly before, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the bright red that bloomed all over the pale skin on Mary’s cheeks and neck. Without thinking, he brought his left thumb to his mouth, nibbling gently on the soft flesh as he regarded the woman with his own sort of unprofessional and improper interest.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” she said, eyeing the contour of his lips around his digit.

“Come and stop me,” he replied.

Mary swallowed his words with the same relish she swallowed her gin as she stood from the sofa, taking a moment to straighten the fabric of her pleated skirt, before walking towards him with soft, elegant steps. She came around the coffee table, sparing a glance at her toppled king before her eyes fell on his widespread knees and ran up his body until they reached his face. And while Fyodor was used to such appreciative looks, he didn’t expect the soft smile she gave him when their gazes crossed; it was usually at this moment that women stepped back from him, frightened by the intensity in his eyes.

Mary sat down by his left, so warm against the side of his body, and reached up with both hands to pull his thumb away from the abuse of his teeth. She brought his hand down to her chest to examine the damage, pouting when she saw the pad of his thumb was red and swollen, with a small laceration that had just barely crusted over and still threatened to bleed.

Fyodor watched her through half-lidded eyes, exhaling deeply when she glanced up at him. From such close-quarters he could make out the limits between the black of her pupils and the brown of her irises; just like he imagined, her pupils were dilated to extremes, wary of and eager for him. The red on her cheeks subsided, leaving a light pink colour in its place that enticed him to run his lips over the skin.

With a small quirk of her lips, Mary glanced back at his hand and shook her head at the damage on his thumb, before bringing it to her mouth to kiss the wound. The touch was soft as a rose’s petal but still knocked the breath out of Fyodor’s lungs. His warm breath gusted over the top of her head, then hitched as a soft, warm hand laid on his cheek.

“That was not what I had in mind when I asked for a kiss,” Fyodor spoke, smiling down at the woman. 

A chuckle escaped Mary and once again she gave him that soft look he was unfamiliar with. Before he could taunt her further, Mary tilted her head and guided his face down, letting her lips ghost over a corner of his mouth before moving to the other, soft and sweet. Hypnotised, Fyodor’s eyelids fluttered shut as he relaxed into these teasing touches that, despite being feather-light in their delicacy, made heat rush in his veins like molten metal, erupting out of his heart to his cock and leaving a trail of feverish desire in his veins that demanded more. More contact, more kisses, more pressure.

Fyodor pushed forwards, folding his body over Mary as his hand reached out to grab the back of her neck, only to freeze mid-air as her cold air took the place of her warm flesh. Somewhere he heard an unholy sound, and only after he opened his dark purple yes to find startled brown staring back at him he noticed he was the source of it. He was growling.

In a fraction of a second, Fyodor wondered about the stage he had set for them. Had he misjudged her interest? Hadn’t he offered her enough drinks? How much did she need his help? How much did he need her and her companions? How far could he push? Was everyone in the house still asleep? If she screamed, would anyone come to help?

Brown eyes narrowed slightly and Fyodor swore he saw a glimpse of himself in them; of something aware, astute, and artful. It was there for a moment so short he wasn’t sure he had projected the connection, so before he could let his brain process it, he was once more being subjugated to that look. That nauseatingly soft look no one had ever given him before, and that he did not know what to do with.

Without words, Mary bent the rules of their game and took his turn from him, cancelled aggression with tenderness as she pushed him back against the sofa gently before swinging her leg over his lap to settle herself on his thighs, pulling a pleased hum from deep inside his chest. 

“May I?” Mary asked, hand playing with the flap of his ushanka hat.

Smiling, Fyodor nodded, and Mary pulled the hat off his head. The motion left his hair messy, drawing a giggle from her lips as she combed the knots away so gently he couldn’t help but shut his eyes and relax against the caresses. 

“Your hair is so soft,” Mary murmured, letting Fyodor smell the gin and strawberries on her breath. He felt her fingers dance on his face, collecting his long fringe to push it back and away from his features. “And you’re so beautiful.”

Fyodor’s eyes opened slightly, just enough so he could stare at the rosy lips hovering so close to his. His hands twitched by his sides, unsure where to go or how to touch. He was used to grabbing, pulling, bruising and scratching; not to soft lips or delicate touches dancing over his skin like her hands ghosted over the chess-pieces only minutes before.

Mary’s lips let out a delicious, trembling breath before moving towards him, avoiding his own mouth altogether to give a kiss on his cheek before moving to whisper into his ear: “You feel so tense. Relax.”

Easier said than done, Fyodor thought, turning his head to bury his nose in Mary’s long, black hair and breath in the scent of her shampoo - something citrusy and common that made him light-headed in a way he only felt when his anaemia got the best of him, causing him to black out and wake up stretched on a hospital bed, with an IV bag of O- blood connected to his arm. 

Still, he couldn’t possibly lose consciousness now, not with Mary’s warm body grounding him so sweetly, not with her breasts pressed against his chest and the heat between her legs trapping him against the sofa’s cushions in the best possible way. Gently, like everything she did, Mary finally laid her mouth over his, allowing a whimper to escape the back of her throat when he pressed against her, not as much as he would have liked, but enough to hold back the most violent aspects of his desires, for now.

At the contact, Fyodor’s passive hands took action, sneaking up Mary’s thighs and hips, before slipping under her blouse to rack his short nails over her naked back as he used his hold over her to press her heat harder against his cock. He half-expected her to pull back again, startled at his boldness, but Mary surprised him by letting out a delighted gasp as she tightened her grip on his hair and arched her back, pushing her breasts even more against his chest.

Fyodor took the opportunity and shoved his tongue inside her mouth, groaning as the taste of her invaded his senses. One of his hands danced over Mary’s skin, causing her to shudder as it tickled by her ribs before moving up to her-

“Oh, Dos! Are you in there? Why is the door locked?”

Nikolai’s happy-go-lucky voice breached the door’s barrier, causing Mary to pull back from their kiss, panting. Fyodor’s nails tensed over her skin before his hands relaxed again, dropping to her waist as he sighed and dropped his forehead against her collarbone.

“I guess your debt is paid, Doctor,” Fyodor spoke against her skin. “There’s work to be done.”

“Of course. I have my mission in a couple of hours as well,” Mary agreed as she pulled away to stand up on shaky legs. “It would be best if I got a couple some sleep before it.”

Fyodor glanced down at himself, at the wet spot on the crotch of his pants, and looked up at her through half-lidded eyes with a devil’s smirk. “Think you need a shower too?”

Mary blushed as she straightened her clothes in a modicum of decency. “I guess.”

Fyodor chuckled, but before he could tease her further, Nikolai’s loud voice invaded the room once more, making his eyes roll upwards in exasperation.

“Quiz time! How long until I force the door open? Two minutes? Two seconds?”

“I will leave you two alone,” Mary said. “Excuse me, Mr Dostoevsky.”

Fyodor nodded dismissively, but the look in his eyes was anything but uninterested. “I will see you later… Mary.”

The woman’s breath hitched at having her first name spoken with such heavy desire before she quickly made her escape, almost slamming against Nikolai when she unlocked the door.

“Good morning, Mr Gogol,” she said with a polite smile.

“Good morning, Mary!” He replied enthusiastically, pulling one of her hands to his lips. “What a treat to see your charming figure so early in the day! Don’t tell me Dos has summoned you at such ungodly hours to talk business?”

“Oh no, we were just having a match,” Mary said, pointing to the chessboard on the coffee table. “He wiped the floor with me.”

Nikolai took a few moments to examine the board and what he saw made him raise an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Really? Looks like a tight match to me,” he said, before turning to Mary. “Next time you should invite me so I can cheer you on! Gods, what I wouldn’t give to watch Dos lose a game…”

Mary chuckled and opened her mouth, but Fyodor beat her to the punch. “You wanted to talk, Nikolai?” He called, smiling tightly at the other Russian. “Come in and close the door behind you.”

“Hmm, grumpy,” Nikolai whispered, sharing a conspiratory smile with Mary as he once again kissed the back of her hand. “Lovely to see you, my dear.”

“You too, Mr Gogol. Have a good one,” Mary said before walking away, throwing one last smile in Fyodor’s direction.

Nikolai waved at Mary’s back as she walked away, closing the door once she turned a corner.

“You know,” Nikolai began in Russian, spinning on his heels to face Fyodor. Both men smiled, but the emotions they showed were something dark, almost cruel. “I believe this is the first time I see a woman in a room alone with you leave without tears in her eyes.”

Feet planted on the floor and knees spread, unashamed of his hard-on or the wet spot on the fabric of his pants, Fyodor hummed a little song as he reached for his hat and adjusted it back on his head. Satisfied, he reached forward and grabbed Mary’s fallen king from the board.

“Honestly, my friend,” he said, bringing the piece to his smiling lips. “I do not know what you’re talking about.”

[ivarthebadbitch]

Strange things can happen

Chapter 17 summary: The real work begins.

Canon divergent, everybody lives, arranged marriage AU after 4x14. Read this chapter on Ao3.

Previous chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16]

On Ao3: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16]

Pairings: Ivar x OC, Ivar vs. basically everyone

Warnings: None

Word count: 1831

Notes: This is it! Thanks to all for the likes, reblogs, comments...every single one is appreciated <3

Tagged: @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @nukyster-blog @bae-roman @adhdnightmare @danisnotsosecret @punkrocknpearls @istorkyou

CHAPTER 17: Strange things happened

“Well, this is unexpected news,” Ecbert remarked over breakfast to his granddaughter and her husband. “You’re absolutely certain you consummated the marriage?”

Aldreda and Ivar glanced at each other and then looked away, both turning red. Ivar cleared his throat. “You did instruct me, King Ecbert.”

“So I did,” he said. It still seemed rather unlikely. He glanced at Ragnar on the other side of the table, who was rubbing his eyes blearily as Ubbe leaned over to whisper something in his ear. For once, the Northman seemed significantly more hungover than Ecbert after a late night of drinking, discussion, and sundry other activities. Ragnar briefly met his eyes and then slumped down in his seat, tilting his head back. 

“Aldreda,” Ecbert addressed his granddaughter. “Is this true? Lying is a sin.”

“Father…” Aethelwulf complained, gesturing around the table at Aethelred and Alfred, who both were staring very intently at their porridge. “This is hardly an appropriate place to discuss such matters. The children are present.”

Ecbert brushed him aside. “We’re all family here, and besides, the boys will be married eventually and so they should learn now what will be expected of them.” He turned once again to his granddaughter. “Well, Aldreda?”

She blushed and looked away. “It’s true.”

Ecbert considered the pair for a moment, toying idly with his spoon. “Until very recently, neither of you were forthcoming about the status of your marriage. Are we to believe you now? Shall Ragnar Lothbrok and I stake our alliance on your word alone?”

Ivar and Aldreda were quiet, neither daring to even look at each other. Ragnar, though obviously still nursing a severe headache, let out a humorless chuckle and whispered something in Ubbe’s ear. Ubbe snorted in response.

As the silence stretched on, Judith finally cleared her throat. All eyes turned in her direction. “If the marriage has been consummated as they say, it does save the archbishop some paperwork, and the trouble of having to organize a second wedding,” she observed. “No expense was spared for the first wedding, and it would look rather poor to our allies for Aldreda to have to wear the same wedding dress twice in two months.”

“A good point,” Ecbert concurred. “But the validity of Ivar and Aldreda’s marriage should not be subject to doubt. Not in the eyes of our allies nor anyone else.”

“There will only be doubts about the marriage if those of us inside this room allow it,” Aethelwulf argued. He set his spoon down firmly on the table and shook his head. “Judith is correct. Father, your own judgment will be in question if the marriage is disrupted under such circumstances, especially since Aldreda and Ivar both claim it was consummated and they no longer wish to seek an annulment.”

Ecbert looked from Aethelwulf to Judith and back at Aethelwulf again, mildly surprised. It was rare for the two of them to be in agreement. He stirred his porridge thoughtfully, smashing the lumps against the side of the bowl. “I will take your point into consideration,” he said. “However, this matter equally concerns Ragnar, as it affects both of his sons.”

Ragnar, who had quietly been conveying the details of the conversation to Ubbe, finally straightened up with a skeptical expression on his face. Ubbe crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, staring at his younger brother with raised eyebrows. “Come on, Ivar,” Ubbe said in Norse as Ecbert turned his head and pretended to not understand. “You didn’t really do it. Somehow you convinced her to go along with this.”

Ivar rolled his eyes. “I didn’t convince her of anything.”

Ragnar scoffed. “Oh, something was agreed to,” he said to his sons in his own language. “But I don’t think Ivar was the one doing the convincing.” Having turned his head too quickly, he winced and rubbed his temples, and then lowered his forehead to rest on the table.

“There’s something else,” Aldreda spoke up in the silence that followed. “Ivar misses his home, and I would like to see Kattegat. With your permission, we would like to arrange for both of us to return there with his father and brother, for at least a year or two.”

Aethelwulf looked up sharply. “Aldreda…”

“I want to see the world outside of Wessex, Father,” she explained. She glanced at Ivar with a small smile. “And I will not be alone. This is what both of us want.”

Ecbert studied the conflicted expression on his son’s face—pride and doubt and fear. Just over a month ago, Aethelwulf had objected to his daughter even traveling to Mercia. Kattegat was considerably farther away, and not even a Christian kingdom. But finally, Aethelwulf nodded reluctantly. “One year,” he insisted, looking from his daughter to Ivar. “You have my blessing. I trust you will take care of each other.”

Aldreda beamed at him and turned to look at Ecbert. “Grandfather?” she asked in a small voice.

“Hm.” He looked from Ivar and Aldreda, both with anxious yet hopeful expressions on their faces. It was more than saving the archbishop paperwork or the expense of another wedding on Ecbert’s mind, of course: it had not escaped him that it could be very useful indeed to have one of his own in Kattegat to ensure that the terms of the trade deal were being followed and who could reliably report back on other matters concerning the Northmen. And although Aldreda was young, her word would still hold authority as his granddaughter and representative. Perhaps it was time to put her to the test.

“The marriage will not be annulled,” he said at last. “Indeed, any such suggestion that an annulment had ever been considered will be dismissed as baseless rumor. I will also allow one year to be spent in Kattegat. If my friend and ally Ragnar Lothbrok is satisfied with this resolution, then so am I.”

Ragnar shrugged and fixed his gaze on his son. Some silent communication passed between the two of them. Ragnar looked away first and sighed. “I am satisfied.”

A huge grin spread across Ivar’s face, and Aldreda clapped a hand over her mouth as though she could hardly believe what she was hearing. Around the table, the boys were giggling, Judith and Aethelwulf were looking at each other with surprising warmth, and even the skepticism on Ubbe and Ragnar’s faces was beginning to ease. Ecbert tapped the side of his bowl with his spoon and raised his voice.

“Well, that’s all settled, then,” he concluded. “Everyone, finish your porridge; we have much to make ready.”

Despite his order, nobody else was paying much attention to breakfast at that point, least of all Ivar and Aldreda, who still looked rather dazed by the turn of events. Ecbert shook his head, smiled to himself, and dug back into his porridge: the two didn’t realize it yet, but now the real work was about to begin.

                                                            **

It took several weeks of preparation, but at last, everything that needed arranging had been arranged, Ivar and Aldredea had said their farewells, the carriage was packed to the brim with Aldreda’s trunks, and they were on their way to the coast. With Ubbe and Ragnar going ahead of them on horseback, that left Ivar and Aldreda crammed in together in the carriage and practically sitting on top of each other. 

“Why do you need to bring so many clothes?” Ivar complained as he wiggled around in the seat to try to get more comfortable, pushing her to the side with his body. “We could find you something to wear in Kattegat, you know.”

She pushed him back not very gently and stared at him as though he had just suggested that she travel to Kattegat naked. “They’re my clothes,” she said, sounding absolutely scandalized. “I need them.”

He rolled his eyes. “When I came to England, all I had with me were the clothes I was wearing.”

“Oh, I remember. You and your father were absolutely filthy the first time I saw you. Some of us have higher standards. Besides, I have to look my best when I meet your mother.”

He grinned and took her hand. “She’ll like you,” he said, and then backtracked. From the impression he had gotten from his father and Ubbe, his mother had not taken well to the idea of his marriage. “Well, maybe not right away. But eventually.”

“That’s why I have to make a good first impression,” she replied tartly.

He smiled and looked down at their intertwined hands. None of this still felt entirely real to him—that they were still married, that both of their families had agreed to it, that they were in a carriage headed to the coast and from there, to Kattegat. “What if they figure it out?” he asked quietly. “That we didn’t really...you know. Consummate the marriage.”

She squeezed his hand. “It doesn’t matter that much if they know or don’t know,” she reassured him. “They were willing to go along with it. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be here, would we?”

“I guess not,” he said, still not entirely convinced. 

“The most important thing is that we’ll be together,” she said firmly. “Besides, we will be in Kattegat for an entire year. Who knows what will happen in that much time?”

“It’s enough time to make a pagan out of you,” he joked. “I can teach you how to sacrifice a goat. That would please my mother for sure.”

She smacked his shoulder with her free hand. “I’m sure there must be other ways I can please your mother.”

“Your father tried to make me learn about your bread god,” Ivar complained. “I think this is a fair trade.”

“You had to sit down one time with a priest to learn a prayer, and you didn’t even do that. That’s not the same thing as me sacrificing a goat,” she said dryly.

“Fine, no goats,” he agreed. He looked down, running his thumb along her palm, thinking back to the last time they had been together in a carriage like this. 

Aldreda rested her head on his shoulder. “What are you thinking about?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Just remembering the journey from Mercia back to Wessex,” he said. Aldreda had asked him to tell her about Kattegat. He had thought back then about what it would be like for him to take her to see his home and meet his family, and how impossible that had seemed. And something else had happened as well…

“Oh.” Aldreda blushed and sat up. She was obviously thinking about the same thing.

“You kissed me.”

She turned even redder, but she didn’t let go of his hand. After regarding him for a moment, she asked him shyly, “What if...we did it again?”

He grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.”

So she kissed him and laughed, and to Ivar, her laugh sounded like joy, like hope, like the beginning of something wonderful.

[nikkzwrites]

(They Long to Be) Close to You | Dark Fix-It Fic Series Part 2 | Chapter 7

A/N: This fic is one that I started with my OC because honestly, I personally didn’t like how season 3 ended. So I am rewriting all of Dark with my OC Annalise Dahlheim. I hope you all like it. Some things will be expanded more on just for more depth to Dark that season 3 kinda skipped over so…. yeah. This is part two of the series! You can start the full series here!

CW: Canon Typical Triggers: Smoking, Sex, Language, Drugs, Drinking, Death, Violence.

Word Count: ~5.0k

[First Chapter] [Previous Chapter] [Next Chapter]

Jonas cried over Martha’s body promising that he would set everything right. He looked up hearing the explosion and then ran down into the basement to stay safe.

The older Jonas shot up in bed breathing hard from his nightmare. He must have fallen asleep in his clothes. He turned to look at the letter labeled Jonas on it. He opened it to read,

‘Dear Jonas, you promised to make everything right again. I want you to know that you will do that. You must never lose hope that there is a way out of this maze. A way to save me and you...But we will have to make sacrifices… do unimaginable things...to untie the knot at the end. Each fate in this knot is linked to the next. A thread, blood red, that connects all our actions. In light and in shadow. But the apocalypse must take place. You must let her die, so I can live. We have to let some things go before they find their way back to us. We are perfect for eachother. Never believe anything else.’

Martha cried over Jonas’ dead body clutching Annalise’s necklace in her bloodied hands. She stood and walked away from him still shaking from the shock she just received. Annalise walked out from the door and ran to Martha. She held the girl close in her arms and started to cry for her. Her fingers intertwined within Martha’s hair. Yet, Martha felt close to nothing. This is what she had always wanted, so why does it still feel wrong.

The short haired Martha looked up at the swirling God Particle in their world knowing what must be done now. Her two older selves watched it twist and turn just like their hearts. Their eyes crying from the knowledge each of them had. Mary smiled proudly at her work. She had spent years getting back to this point. Yet, her eyes still cried knowing just as soon as she was going to experience the greatest ecstasy, she was going to experience the pits of despair. Unknowing of her own fate that was just close to happening.

Silija took her rifle and shoved Martha into a cage. She locked the girl in, ignoring her cries of confusion. Adam watched on with a sigh.

The older Jonas took the letter and burned it after reading. He felt disgusted at what she was trying to imply, let Annalise die so that Martha could live as if he could possibly do that. As if he could let that happen. 

Annalise and Martha walked back to Martha’s home. It was the day of the apocalypse. As they got inside, Martha started to panic about how dirty and covered with his blood she was. 

Annalise took hold of her and said, “Hey, hey… shhhh… It’s okay.” She carefully walked the girl to the sink and washed her up. Her hands were gentle, yet dexterous at getting off the blood. After cleaning her hands and face, Annalise heard someone stirring upstairs so she quickly helped Martha undress and shoved the blooded clothes in the trash.

Magnus hurried downstairs after hearing the door open and close. “Martha,” he breathed relieved at his sister being back home safe. He looked between Annalise and Martha asking, “Where were you? Mom cried all night long.” Noticing that Martha wasn’t her normal self, he turned to Annalise and asked, “Is she okay?”

Annalise shook her head as Martha tried to wipe her tears away. She turned to look at her brother.

“Hey,” He spoke softly. He opened his arms to her which were gladly taken by Martha. He held his sister and asked, “What happened?”

Martha sobbed into Magnus for a second. She held him tighter than she had ever held her brother before. “Bartosz was right,” she whispered. She shook her head and said, “What he said in the woods… about the end of the world.” She started to panic. “The nuclear power plant… Today. Bartosz’s father is trying to cover up an accident. The containers… The world is going to end today.”

Magnus looked at her then to Annalise, who just shrugged and shook her head acting as if she didn’t know anything… 

While in truth, she did. Annalise knew exactly what Martha was talking about and it was her job to also get to Bartosz so that way they could all go fix this mess. At least, that’s what Eve told her and her older self told her. There was no reason not to trust them. 

Meanwhile in 1986, a younger Mary smiled with a young Noah. She turned to him and said, “We did it! We found the way back! We can get Bartosz and go back home.”

Magnus shook her head at her, “Have you gone crazy? When did you last sleep?” When she tried to yell at him, he shook his head and said, “I haven’t got time for your psycho crap. You can handle this, right Anna?”

Annalise nodded. She shook her head at Martha, “I’m sorry.”

Short haired Martha looked down at Annalise’s necklace and started to cry. She trembled as her fingers traced the tree of life pattern.

“They had to die,” The older Martha explained, “It’s all wrong.” They stood in the old Eris Lux meeting area. “I know what you’re feeling. But you’ll learn to let the feeling go. Everything will run its course. Just as fate determined our world and his.”

In the other world, Martha tried to escape her cage. When Adam appeared to her, she screamed, “why did you lock me up? You promised me there would be a way to change everything.” She started to cry, “So the apocalypse won’t happen. You lied to me, just like my older self lied to me!”

Adam looked down at the sphere in his hands. He spoke, “Sic Mundus. Old Tannhaus. He firmly believed he was creating a paradise where we’d all be free of destiny, and free of our pain. A world outside your world and my world. But I have finally realized what this paradise really is. Unending darkness, in which nothing exists. But for that...the apocalypse must happen. In my world...and in yours.” He turned and walked away from her.

“Jonas,” she roared, “Jonas! Let me out!”

There was only six hours before the apocalypse left and Aleksander was speaking to Obendorf about the containers. He had seen Annalise leave earlier that morning so he knew it would be safe to speak about it.

“Dad,” Bartosz said, walking into the room and surprising Aleksander, “Is everything okay?”

Aleksander nodded, but sadly said, “I know I said I’d stay home today...But something important came up. I’m sorry.”

Bartosz shrugged and grumbled to his dad, “It’s alright”

His father turned and said, “I have to tell you something. Someone is blackmailing me.”

Bartosz’s face turned into confusion, “What?”

Aleksander turned and showed his son, “With this. Something that happened a long time ago. Sometimes we make decisions in our lives that we can never undo.” He sighed and continued, “My name is not Aleksander. It is Boris. Boris Niewald. But it was an accident… You must believe me. I’m not a murderer.”

Bartosz shook his head and asked, “What about Mom? Did Mom know about this?”

“Your mother is the best thing that ever happened in my life,” said the man, “she saved me from all that and I never told her the truth.” He looked at his son, “Bartosz, I’m sorry.”

Bartosz threw the newspaper down and walked away from his father.

Across town, Charlotte walked to Ulrich’s house with the file to let him know what they found on the investigation for Mads resulting in Ulrich leaving quickly and Hannah realizing it was her the entire time.

Annalise sat with Matha. She tried to convince the girl to take a nap, but Martha felt too wired for that. 

The girl walked over to her mirror to look at herself. “I hate this,” she sneered at herself. She grabbed the scissors from her things and started to cut.

“Hey,” Annalise said. She walked over to the girl and stopped her, “Let me do that for you. You are going to mess it up.”

“I don’t care,” Martha mumbled, but conceded giving the scissors to Annalise anyway.

Annalise smiled and giggled, “Come on. Let’s cut off all the things weighing you down.”

Martha watched as everything happened through the mirror. She just wanted everything fixed and over with.

Katharina slept on Mikkel’s bed calmly. She awoke to Martha standing over her, “You scared me. Where were you? Did you cut your hair? What happened?” She looked over towards Annalise who stood awkwardly behind her daughter. She looked back to see Martha nearly in tears.

Martha spoke, “Do you believe in fate?”

“I don’t know,” Katharina admitted watching Annalise walk out to give them some space. She spoke again, “No. I believe that we take our lives into our own hands. That we decide which road we take.”

Eve stared at the older Bartosz with a sigh. She spoke to him motioning towards the hideout and to his child Jonah. Her heart sunk, but she knew this was what was needing to happen. Everything was so so close. She needed everything to continue just as it had before. She knew what this would cause though. She knew what this part would lead. She needed it to happen. This was one of the finally domino effects needed for her plan to see him again.

Katharina shook her head and said, “I’m sure I’m the last person you want to talk to, but...If you do...I’m here.” She took her daughter's hand and held it. The woman spoke again, “Your dad and I… A lot of things maybe different now, but that’s not necessarily bad.”

Martha started to cry. She shook her head and said, “No, I’m sure it’s not.” She held her mother closely. She let go after a moment and explained, “I promised I was going to do something.” Then she walked out.

In the other world, Claudia stared at a picture of the blond boy who had started this all. Her breathing was all that could be heard in the small bunker. She sighed and looked down to open one of the journals letting her know what she was supposed to do as well. It spelled out where the God Particle was and to follow the signals to it. She found herself going to the area in her yellow radiation suit. Inside, she saw only a bright white light. Her heart pounded as she reached out to it.

“Stop,” A man called to her. Claudia turned to see Jonas.

She sighed in relief and said, “Jonas…” She looked surprised. Her voice shook as she spoke again, “You’re alive.”

Back in Eve’s world, the short haired, scarred Martha wrote Jonas a letter. She knew all of it to be absolutely true. She hated to admit it to herself, but she was doing all of this for her own Annalise as well. Something for them to be together just as Mary and Eve were. To raise this child together. She sighed and spoke, “I murdered him. Why is he still alive?” 

Mary drew a diagram for the young Martha, “There is a switch point in the loop of time. The moment that causes things to run in one direction or the other. You bring him into your world, or you don’t. A line that starts at one point, then loops onto itself once more. Two possible ways on the outer edge of the line or on the inner edge of the line… yet it is the same line. Two overlapping realities happen in a single moment.” She spoke quieter, more in reflection, “In one, she goes with you… in another she’s kidnapped and trapped until she figures out the puzzle of this.” She shook her head and spoke louder again, “One, he dies...on the other road, he doesn’t.” She pointed and said, “Both realities continue from the point of the sphere’s activation, then collide on itself if it’s in the same reality. Both of your worlds continue from that point and repeat in an endless loop. One triggers the other one to happen. You two are locked in Quantum entanglement.”

Eve interrupted and spoke, “Adam has tried to sever it for 33 years. So that the thing growing inside of you will never be born.”

Mary spoke up again, “But it is impossible now. Your worlds… they can never be disconnected.”

The older Martha took the letter and folded it up to be put into the envelope as Ever spoke, “Every step Jonas takes is guided by us. He cannot escape his fate.”

In Jonas’ world, Claudia stared at the blond and asked, “What is this?”

Jonas spoke while looking at the glowing white orb flowing suspended in the air, “That is what was left over after the catastrophe.”

Claudia breathed heavily and asked, “The God Particle… and this here? What is this?” She pointed to the equipment not too far from them.

Jonas looked at her confused and explained, “I’ve seen where all this goes.” He pointed towards the equipment, “in the future. There is no way back now. The cave was destroyed. There’s nothing there anymore. The passage is completely gone. But this here… If I find out how it works, I’ll be able to go back. Then I can save them. Martha, Mikkel, and Annalise. I can save all of them.” He stared at her. She seemed off. She didn’t seem to support any of this. He spoke to her and asked, “How is it that you found me?” He waited for a moment then asked in a slightly different way, “How did you know I would be here?”

“The apparatus,” Claudia explained, “The matter it needs.”

“The apparatus,” Jonas yelled, “You still have it?! Where is it?”

Claudia reluctantly showed him to where she was keeping the machine. She knew if she didn’t he would only become more aggressive. She watched as he rushed towards it. As he toggled with some of the switches, she spoke, “It doesn’t work. Maybe this is how it had to happen first. For all the things to change for next time.” As he slowly turned towards her, she explained, “The substance in the device. You and I brought it into the passage again. The variables in the equation were changed. There’s a chance it might work next try.”

Jonas yelled, “I can’t wait 33 years to try!” He growled as he walked towards her, “I’m supposed to just hope this won’t happen again? Maybe next time I’m on the other side of the bunker door?!” He sneered, “She didn’t say anything… Your older self. She knew Annalise was going to die. That Martha was also going to die. How they would die.” Tears dripped down his dirty sweaty face, “Why should I trust you now?”

Claudia felt a pain in her chest hearing about Annalise. Yet she pressed on, “The material in the plant. I know what it is. I can assist you. I can help you save them. To save all of them.”

In Eve’s world, there was only three hours left before the apocalypse. Martha stormed to Bartosz’s house with Annalise behind her. She screamed, “BARTOSZ!”

He very quickly went to the glass door as if by instinct. He opened it for her and asked, “Martha?” He looked at her then saw Annalise not far behind her. He bit his lip hoping this wasn’t going to affect them then turned back towards Martha to listen to what she had to say.

“Can we come in,” the short haired girl asked him. She stared up at him pleadingly. It was the least he could do now right? After stealing the girl she loved, the least he could do was let her inside.

“Eh,” Bartosz shifted uneasily. He swallowed and nodded, “Yeah. Come on in.” He moved out of the way for the two girls to rush in.

Martha shakingly explained, “33 years ago there was an accident at the plant. Somehow the accident caused some strange matter to form… and your father helped cover everything up.” She started to breathe heavily. Her eyes flickered between Annalise and him, “And everything we heard in the caves. It’s all the same… The substance… It starts the end. Today. We have to talk to him.”

“Starts what end,” Bartosz spoke calmly.

Martha’s voice shook as she said, “The apocalypse.”

Ulrich stared at Mads body in disbelief. There was no way any of this was happening. He’s heart raced as he realized it had to be. He unlocked the jail cell and stared at Helge. He lifted him up and asked, “The Kid in the bunker. You said it was you who killed him. But you didn’t mean him. You meant Mads. The boy in the bunker looks just like Mads. How did you do it?”

Helge shook and said, “They...They both said that I must do it.”

Ulrich growled, “Who? Do what?”

Helge swallowed and explained, “To help send him to the future. To fill the gaps.”

Ulrich let go of him and took a step back in disbelief. He took the pennies out of his pocket and showed it to the man, “The pennies… What does this mean?”

Helge looked up and said, “I must stop him.”

“Stop who? Who will you stop?”

Helge swallowed and spoke softly, “You.”

Ulrich pulled back and looked down before looking out the door. He said, “You can go now.”

Helge hurried out to go on his own mission to stop the man.

“And this Jonas guy,” Bartosz asked, “He’s dead now? And you killed him there. Well it’s not you… It’s...another you?” He looked at her completely confused. This sounded a lot like how Annalise was trying to describe being in two places at once just the other night. He ran his fingers through his long hair thinking about everything.

Martha nodded and explained, “I was there. In the future. There’s nothing left.” She shook her head. “Nothing.” She sighed and stated, “It all has to do with your father. He can’t be allowed to open those containers.” Watching his thumbs rub together and him look down then back at Annalise, Martha knew he was deep in thought. “Bartosz,” she tried to reach out to his mind to pull him back to her. She pleaded with him, “Please.”

Bartosz reached for his phone and called his father. He didn’t get an answer due to his father looking at all of the sins of his past and what they lead to. Aleksander called Charlotte now knowing what he must do to make amends.

The Unknown looked up at the sphere. He turned it on and watched it descend. The youngest walked in first, then the oldest. The middle one took out the ball and held it in his hand.

In Adam’s world, Silja let Martha out of her cage and at gunpoint led her to where Adam wanted her to go. She explained that all she was here to do was to help fill the gaps for everyone so that everyone could reach salvation.

Adam stared at the swirling mass. He spoke to himself mostly but turned to see the ghost of Annalise standing there with him, “We have waited a long time for this moment.” He turned towards Magnus and Franziska and told them, “you know what to do.” He nodded to them to leave him alone with the ghost of the girl he loved.

Magnus and Franziska swallowed. They shifted and took hold of each other’s hands not sure if they were really ready for the other world yet and to see their long dead best friends.

In Eve’s world, Magnus and Franziska sat at the edge of the pond unknowing of the apocalypse about to hit them in just one hour.

Franziska turned to him and signed, “What do you think it means? The birds? The light? The boy in the bunker?”

Magnus shrugged a bit then signed back while mouthing, “Martha has lost it. She thinks the apocalypse will happen today.”

Franziska shook her head at him. She could tell without words that he was nervous. She smiled a bit to comfort him and slid her hand into his. She signed to him and mouthed, “If we die today, then at least we are together.”

Magnus smiled and signed back, “Together.” He leaned close to her so that they could kiss all his troubles away.

Bartosz and Annalise rode their bikes down to the powerplant. Martha sat behind Bartosz looking up at the boy. They tried to ride as quickly as possible to stop the canisters from being opened by Charlotte and Aleksander.

Helge waddled through the woods muttering to himself the sounds of the clock in his mind. He walked toward the cave knowing exactly what he was going to try to do.

Ulrich called Charlotte trying to get a hold of her to let him know of what was going on as he tried to follow the man.

Adam’s world Magnus and Franziska stood in the road and stared at the group on the bikes. Bartosz and Martha stopped smoothly while Annalise crashed Martha’s bike trying to avoid them.

Martha stood up and walked towards them, “Who are you?”

Magnus chuckled, “You can’t take a few guesses?”

Annalise groaned on the ground causing Bartosz to run towards her side, “Anna!” He looked over her and caressed her face, “It’s okay. You’re okay. Where does it hurt?”

Annalise reached her hand down towards her side. She groaned as he touched it, “Ow...Ow. Ow.” Tears welled up in her eyes.

Mary screamed as she walked into her family’s part of the hideout. There her older Bartosz, her husband, held their dead baby in his arms crying. He looked at her pleadingly, “Please, Annalise. Forgive me.”

Mary screamed at him, “What did you do?!”

“I had no other choice, Annalise please.”

Martha stared at the man and whispered, “Magnus?” She gasped as he stared at him, “You’re from the future.”

Magnus nodded, “But not from yours. They lied to you. Your older selves. They want the apocalypse to happen. They’re the ones responsible for it happening in the first place. But there is a way to change everything.”

Annalise struggled out, “Liar! You’re just working for Adam.”

Bartosz cooed at her, “Shhhhh. Anna… Please. You’re hurt. You are only going to keep hurting yourself. Shhhh.”

The older Bartosz looked sadly at his wife, “Please don’t look at me like that. She said I had to or else he’d die anyway.”

Mary rushed at him and started to hit him, “Liar! She would never do this to me.. MARTHA WOULD NEVER!” She stole her dead Jonah from him. She cried over his small body. 

Franziska looked from the couple on the side of the road then looked at Martha and said, “But you have to choose our world and trust in him. Jonas.”

Bartosz started to question them as well. Annalise could see it on his face as Martha asked, “Jonas? He’s alive?”

“In our world,” Franziska nodded, “And he knows what the origin is.”

Mary trembled as she realized, no. Eve could, and Eve would. She started to realize everything was just Eve’s fault. She had been using her just as she used Jonas, but to what end. Mary sneered at him and said, “Of course in the end you would choose her. I hope you rot in the hell you both made.” She walked away from him to go to Eve’s office.

Franziska continued, “But before that, you must save Jonas from the apocalypse in his world and bring him into your world.”

Bartosz stood up and growled, “All of you are crazy, you know that?!”

Magnus stepped towards the girl and said, “You can’t stop what’s happening now, but...if you come with us, you can prevent it. Another time.” He took out the orb and held it towards Martha.

Bartosz helped Annalise up and asked, “What is that?”

Martha stared into her other worldly brother’s eyes. She panted as she tried to figure out what to do. What was the best step. Who should she trust? What should she do?

Bartosz’s voice cut through the noise in Martha’s head, “Martha what’s going on here?”

Martha walked towards them and turned towards her two closest friends, “you have to come with us.”

“Come with you where,” Bartosz asked.

Franziska spoke up as Magnus got the orb ready, “They aren’t one of us. They work for the others. She will save them.” Franziska nodded towards Annalise. 

Martha looked between the two groups unsure of who to go with or who to trust. She looked at her friends and whispered, “I’m sorry.” She disappeared in a cloud of ashes and ember.

“It’s time,” Eve spoke to her group, “Adam has moved each of his tokens into position. It is time that we do the same.”

Mary burst into the room angry with her Bartosz trailing behind her, “You MONSTER! You LIED TO ME.” She growled and launched herself at Eve. 

Eve laughed as everyone else left the room to leave them alone. She shook her head, “I did no such thing. This was all just a test for you, don’t you see that?”

Mary screamed, “You killed my son!? After everything I had done for you! I made your damn machine for you! I traumatised myself for you. I worked years and years for you. Blindly trusting you. You separated me from Bartosz for years to motivate me to make the machine work! I helped convince someone I was an angel with the son you had my husband have after me so that we could have your dad’s brother killed! Who even does that?! Why me?!”

Eve sighed, again, she chose Jonas in the end just like every cycle. Annalise chose Bartosz. As her heart slowly broke, she spoke, “I am so sorry you see it that way, but I want to hear it from you. Say what you are truly feeling deep inside your heart. Tell me.”

The younger Eve took over speaking to the rest of the group, “This knot has given us all life and we are its keepers. In both worlds. He’ll never be able to untie this knot. In all these years, he’s never understood how everything is connected. How it all ends and begins. Not only in our world, but in his as well. We are destiny. We raise the walls of this labyrinth. Each of us shapes the paths and extend their hand. Bartosz, you must help save yourself and Annalise to save our lives. Claudia, you must guide yourself to be our eyes in the other world. Egon, you must create your past to preserve the family tree. Noah, you must bring love and friendship... To start everything anew. Every darkness is followed by light. With every death comes life.” The younger Eve opened the portal for them.

In Adam’s world, Martha pleaded with the scarred man, “You brought me into your world. You promised me we could change this. Why are you doing this?” She struggled against her chains crying. She sobbed and asked him, “Where are the others? Where did you send them?”

Adam’s raspy voice grated in the air, “They are all fulfilling their destinies. Magnus and Franziska. Charlotte and Elisabeth. Silja and Agnes. They’re sustaining the cycle’s life. So that you and I exist here, now.”

“What are you saying,” She shook her head in confusion.

Adam looked at the ghost of Annalise dancing around them and looked back at her, “This is the end we’ve reached. What’s growing inside you, the origin, must die. But it can’t be killed by normal means. It’s born of both worlds and so the energy of both worlds is necessary to destory it. The apocalypse in my world...and the apocalypse in your world. This here is the end. A machine that crosses not only time, but space as well. Which then focuses the energy of both apocalypses on one concentrated point. This spot. Your son only exists because the matter exists. Now, through it, he will die, and all of us with him. None of this will exist anymore. Both worlds will erase one another. Absolute annihilation.”

Martha shook her head. She looked at him with sorrow for him, “You’ve gone insane.”

Adam slowly walked towards her, “There is no hope. No salvation. No paradise.” He took Annalise’s necklace from her, “We were wrong. You and I. In your world, and in mine.” He walked away from her.

“Jonas,” She called out to him, “JONAS! Jonas, please don’t do it. Jonas.”

Adam closed the door to prevent him from still hearing her call his old name. A name he had not associated with himself in a long time. A name when he was still Annalise’s. As she cried, he sighed knowing what he had to do. He turned it on and watched her struggle.

The beginning is the end and the end is the beginning. Every connection in one world must also be closed in the other world. Everything is interconnected. In the light and in shadow.

Slowly, all of Eve’s foot soldiers reached where they were to go. Older Noah to Sylvie and Elizabeth, Helge and Egon back to the past, Claudia to her other self, and Older Bartosz to Annalise and his younger self. Ulrich going into the past to stop Mads from dying.  Older Jonas creating the machine while young Eve went to place the note. The Unknown going to help create the end. 

Mary screamed, “ADAM WAS RIGHT. There is no salvation! You are the monster and this should end. All of this should end. There is no paradise! There is only pain!”

Just as a gunshot rang out deep in the cavern walls, The Unknown all yelled out desperately, “MOM!”

[its-sixxers]

OC Interview - Tandreth

name ➔ “Who’s asking?” he grins. “Indoril Tandreth, if you’re Velothi. If you’re one of the jarl’s men, I’m no one.”

are you single ➔ “Quite. Why, are you looking to change that? I’m a hard man to tie down.”

are you happy ➔  “My coinpurse is full, I have a collection of various artifacts and treasures, someone to warm my bed every night - I suppose I can’t complain.” The smile leaves his eyes, however.

are you angry ➔ “I’m Velothi. It’s in the blood, so they say.” You can’t imagine the aloof man in front of you furious by any means, but there’s a bite of challenge to his tone.

are your parents still married ➔ “Hah!” he laughs. “They never were. Everyone calling me a bastard is right in more ways than one.”

NINE FACTS

birthplace ➔ “The Ashlands. Northwestern Vvardenfell, back in the day - now the entire island’s ash.”

hair color ➔ “Black, but I’m told the sun turns strands brown if it’s bright enough.” Tandreth combs his fingers through his curls. “I bleached it white, once upon a time. Didn’t want to look my sister, you see.”

eye color ➔ He flutters his eyelashes. “Red as Azura cursed them.”

birthday ➔  “The tenth of Sun’s Dawn. Year 430, of the Third Era.” Tandreth waits for the math to be done, eyes twinkling playfully. “I look good for my age, don’t I?”

mood ➔ “They change like the weather. Now? Or most often? The answer to both is bored.” He tries to look at the sheet of paper and the notes upon it. “Tell me you have something better to ask.”

gender ➔ It’s not the interesting question he wanted. “I’m a man. Not that the local Nords seem to believe me.” His smile grows wicked. “Their wives do.”

summer or winter ➔ “They’re the same thing, here in Skyrim.” He sighs. “Summer. I like to be able to feel most of my fingers.” You note his left pinky is missing.

morning or afternoon ➔ “Morning. I like to watch the sunrise before I turn in for the night.”

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

are you in love ➔ “Always am.” he sighs dramatically, lounging further back in his chair. “How can anyone not be? Tamriel is filled with the beautiful.”

do you believe in love at first sight ➔ “Now we’re at the interesting questions.” Tandreth kicks his feet up on the table. “Of course I do. Love at first sight, hate at last sight - isn’t that how it tends to go?”

who ended your last relationship ➔ It catches him off guard - he’s leaning his chair back on two legs, and nearly falls over. The front feet of the chair connect with the floor loudly as he settles himself. “The law.” he answers simply. “And gold.”

have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ The next question quickly repairs his high spirits. “Dozens, I’m sure. Don’t mistake me for cruel - I’ve never been dishonest about what I am. I can’t prevent others from lying to themselves.”

are you afraid of commitments ➔ He rolls his eyes. “You sound like Raansi.” he mutters. “I’ve spent the last fifty years in Skyrim, I think that’s commitment enough.”

have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ Tandreth opens his mouth then frowns. “... you know, I haven’t.” he realizes aloud, and is clearly troubled by it. “Maybe I should give that great dragonborn ox a hug. I’ve gotten good at dodging her hammer, you know.”

have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ “I like to collect the letters.” he grins from ear to ear. “They don’t stay secret for long, if I can help it.”

have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ Those red eyes of his drop to his nails, where he makes a display of picking at his cuticles. “Don’t be foolish.”

SIX CHOICES

love or lust ➔ “Lust is simpler. There’s less tears involved, much more fun for all parties. I don’t need someone simpering over me to feel like a whole person.” he answers, perhaps a tad defensively.

lemonade or iced tea ➔ “Iced tea offers much more variety in flavor. That’s a drink for Hammerfell or Elsweyr, not this frozen tundra.”

cats or dogs ➔ His mouth twists. “I don’t keep pets. Humans live short enough lives, animals are asking for heartbreak.”

a few best friends or many regular friends ➔ “I have a very large circle of acquaintances and paramours. Does that count?”

wild night out or romantic night in ➔ “A wild night out, of course. It helps one feel alive.”

day or night ➔ “As much as I hate the cold, night. Have you seen a full moon over the snow on a clear night? As bright as day, and clear as crystal.” There’s a dreamy expression on his face.

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

been caught sneaking out ➔ “Several times. Not all for troublesome reasons, I assure you.”

fallen down/up the stairs ➔ “I am the pinnacle of grace.” Tandreth looks almost offended to be asked.

wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ “There was this necklace I tried to steal from a sleeping beast of a woman, and I nearly had my nose broken for the trouble.” You think it’s a joke, but the grave quality to his tone suggests that Tandreth takes any threat to his nose very seriously.

wanted to disappear ➔ “Wanted to? I can.” Perhaps he is dodging the questions.

FOUR PREFERENCES

smile or eyes ➔ “They’re intertwined. Part of a smile is in the eyes, you know - and they’re at their best when smiling.”

shorter or taller ➔ “Taller.” he answers first, then wrinkles his nose - his reflexive response has brought up something uncomfortable. “I don’t mind either way.” he adds hastily. “I’ve been very happy with people of all sizes.”

intelligence or attractive ➔ “You must think me vain indeed.” He tilts his chin upward. “But aye, I’ll say it - beauty. Not all can find tomes to pore over or tutors from the imperial province. Beauty isn’t just in the face, or the form, it’s an energy all its own.” He gestures vaguely with his hands. “A school of magic, perhaps. Difficult to define. It’s why I love it so dearly.”

hook-up or relationship ➔ “I’m a hard man to love.” he says with a dramatic shrug and an affected sheepish smile. “But I don’t leave my bedmates wanting.”

FAMILY

do you and your family get along ➔ Tandreth exhales shortly. “I liked the other questions.” he mumbles. “Presently? Only my sister’s left of it, and we’re not on speaking terms.”

would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ His smile is entirely without humor, a grim thing that ages him by decades. “Don’t worry, dearest. I live my life to the fullest.”

have you ever run away from home ➔ “I think every young lad does, at some point.” He’s picking at his nails again.

have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ “By my family? No. But there’s a few cities I’m not allowed to set foot in - do you have the time to listen? ... no? Pity.”

FRIENDS

do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ “What intrigue!” Tandreth’s good humor returns. “I’d have to have them to bear some secret distaste. The people I hate in my circle I make no secret of.”

do you consider all of your friends good friends ➔ “I’ll stretch the definition of friend to play along with your questions. No. You don’t live as long as I have by trusting anyone but yourself.”

who is your best friend ➔ For a moment you think he’s about to say ‘no one’, and you’re correct - but the pause before he says so is notable indeed.

who knows everything about you ➔ “My sister, I suspect. We’re twins, you know - she’s an hour older. Will never let me forget it.” He snorts. “You’d think she had decades on me, the way she carries on. She knows everything - so she might was well know everything about me.” You sense he’s a little bitter.

He offers to take you to a play in town after your work day is complete. You respectfully decline, and he respects your professionalism - but he still winks on his way out.

[jksmoongf]

Kissing Fire [pt. 12] *final*

Pairing: Jungkook x reader x girlfriend (oc) Genre: cheater!AU, angst, smut Wordcount: 16.7k Warning: smut, lies, heartbreak and more lies and maybe fluff if you squint

Summary: It always feels like there is only one person in the world to love. And then you find somebody else.

a/n: I don’t condone cheating on your s.o., so please don’t read if you have a problem with this! (also I’m not saying this is something Jungkook would actually do!) **a/n: It’s been a long time coming but it’s finally here and I really hope none of you are disappointed! As always, some feedback would be lovely! I wanna thank @struggleofarmy​ for always helping me, and encouraging me and sobbing with me through the long process of writing this chapter! Thank you D. - I love you!!! 💕💕💕 And I need to thank @jaxonah​ for her big brain and planning with me, literally, the entire fic ( y’all can thank her, bc Sammy inspired KF and without her, it would've never happened!) Thank you bby! I love you so much, you don't even understand!  💜💜💜

Warning chapter 12: crying (it’s an emotional rollercoaster or maybe just an angst-fest who knows), smut ( handjob (female/male receiving), minor tiddie play, grinding,  good ol’ vanilla sex with a surprise at the end, as always unprotected, but pls use protection ), profanities, fluff (you’ll need a magnifying glass to find it), Jk doing dumb irrational things (no spoilers on that tho) Song rec: Every Avenue - Between You and I (please listen to it, it’s beautiful and just reflects the entire fic so well. it really sets the tone for this last chapter.) 

Namjoon was hiding in his studio; hunched over, he cowered at his desk just tiredly scrolling through his favorite online clothing store. Distraction was his main priority at this point, he tried so hard to not overthink or go looking for more hateful comments that would send him into a downwards spiral. His face was hidden underneath the hood of his big comfy sweater, his eyes quickly scanned each item but ultimately deciding that he didn’t really like any of them enough to make a purchase. Whenever he stopped, his brain went into a frenzy the past few days, the exhaustion creeping up on him; he always thought he should have everything under control but the current situation proved him wrong. He felt powerless, not knowing how to handle all the negative articles that were being published in an abundance every hour. A weak knock made him flinch involuntarily, and when the door quietly opened bare feet waddling on the hardwood floor told him that he wasn’t alone anymore. “Hyung…” He knew the soft familiar voice all too well, but for reasons, he couldn’t explain goosebumps traveled down his back before he slowly spun around in his chair. The youngest was standing by the small wooden coffee table, dressed in all black as if he was mourning the death of a loved one and to a certain extent, Namjoon was sure, he was. He was mourning the loss of his relationship that had only just begun. “What’s up?” He had avoided being alone with the maknae; he didn’t quite know how to speak to him at this very moment in time. It was almost like an invisible barrier was separating them, making it awkward to even look him in the eyes. “I just wanted to talk to you…” “About what?” His heartbeat was quickening, Jungkook wasn’t a kid anymore but he still needed his older brothers, maybe now more than ever before. “You know…” He shuffled his feet, looking uncomfortable and out of place like he was about to change his mind and leave but he made his way around the table to sit down on the small couch. His eyes rested on him as he inhaled deeply to gain more time. “About everything that has been going on…I-I just want…” Without warning the younger boy bowed, averting his gaze to his knees. “I’m sorry, I really am.” “Jungkookie, don’t do that. You-“ The words got stuck in his throat, Namjoon knew how much it must have taken out of him to even come here and try to talk to him. Jungkook looked up to him, it wasn’t a secret that he had always had a big impact on the youngest member. But right now, the queasy feeling in Namjoon’s stomach made him feel like he failed not only as a role model but even worse, as a big brother. “No, I have to. I know, I disappointed you.” He wanted to object but couldn’t. As much as he blamed himself for what happened, he was disappointed in Jungkook and his reckless behavior. After all those years in the industry, he thought that all of them had a better understanding of how careful they had to be when it came to their privacy and personal lives. He wanted to chalk it up to Jungkook being young but he should’ve known better. 

“I hate to say it but you’re right.” A shaky breath left his lungs when he finally managed to speak, tearing down the wall that had kept all of his emotions and thoughts at bay. “I am disappointed in you. You know, I keep asking myself where it all went wrong…did we not teach you right from wrong? Did we, no - did I fail at teaching you that you need to be careful and that your personal life should never interfere with our job? Have you not learned anything from being in the industry for years? Why didn’t you think ahead? Why didn’t you delete those videos? Why did you even take them to begin with? Why didn’t you break up with your girlfriend before you started cheating on her? I have so many questions and I’m not even sure I want to know the answers because I’m afraid that it will hurt and cause more pain. You’re still my little brother but I’m questioning everything these days - I feel like I’ve failed you in so many ways.”

Jungkook swallowed the lump in his throat; he didn’t know how or where to start with explaining himself. Did Namjoon even want to hear what he had to say? Would he even believe him? 

The palms of his hands were clammy as he folded them together to keep them from shaking. “Hyung, you didn’t fail just because I make mistakes. Please don’t blame yourself for something that I did…” He didn’t want to cry but the tears were already prodding at the corners of his eyes. All of them were mad at him and disappointed, it wasn’t just his image that was ruined, he tarnished the group's image forever with his stupidity. The voice inside his head that had been fairly quiet was getting louder with every second that passed - his heart hurt that he didn’t think far enough ahead to know that what they had been doing was reckless and could cause so much trouble and harm but alas, he knew that you’re always smarter looking back on your previous actions. 

“I do think I am at least partially to blame. I know, I have been busy and I wasn’t always there for you when you needed me for guidance but a part of me was hoping that you would make the right decisions regardless…I don’t want to lecture you, I don’t want to act like I can tell you what to do, Jungkook but I do feel responsible for you and your actions.” He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as his fingers intertwined with each other, his nails pressing into the delicate skin on his knuckles. “I don’t condone that you cheated on Yina and lied to all of us for so long but I do understand that you fell out of love and fell in love with someone else. It hurts that you didn’t think you could trust any of us enough to tell us or come to us for advice. We’re a family, yes, we will tell you the truth when you fuck up but we will always be here for you, we always have each other’s backs. I really thought you would have stopped for a moment to think of the consequences it could have when you took those videos but I guess, I expected too much from you. You’re only 22 years old and you are allowed to make mistakes but I just can’t help but think that somewhere along the way I messed up when you needed me.” Namjoon blinked when he saw a few stray tears rolling down Jungkook’s puffy cheeks; he didn’t want his words to hurt him but he needed to get them off his chest and if he didn’t do it now, he would probably never get a second chance. “You really didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t even know why I did most of those things. I know, I knew better even back then.” His hand automatically slid into the pocket of his hoodie to wrap around the white gold bangle, he had been carrying around ever since she gave it back to him two nights ago. “I know, I should’ve come to you, but at first I thought I just had a silly crush on y/n and it wasn’t even worth mentioning. I thought it would fade away over time but it didn’t, it only got stronger and I was too weak to fight my feelings and when we got into this web of sneaking around and lying, I just couldn’t tell anyone. I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me because… I-I look up to you so much, what you think of me matters to me and seeing that look of disappointment on your face…I never wanted to see that…” He croaked, trying to dim the tears flowing down his face with his sleeve. “I just wanted all of you to be proud of me, especially you, hyung but I knew that once you found out about what I did, you would be ashamed so I kept it a secret.” It felt like someone was standing on his chest, making it harder to breathe with every word he spoke.

The countless times Namjoon had seen Jungkook cry before never hurt as much as it did now; he was breaking down in front of him. Tears spilling from the big brown eyes with no sign of stopping; he wanted to get up and comfort him but he couldn’t move, it was almost like he was glued to his chair; forced to endure the punishment of seeing the youngest falling apart. “Why did you take those videos and for goodness sake why didn’t you delete them right after?” “I don’t know, it was the only thing we had when we couldn’t be together. After y/n had taken the first video…it was exciting, I liked watching it back and I’m so stupid for not thinking that it could get me in trouble.” The pressure inside his head was building up rapidly as the tears just kept coming, making his vision blurry. “We were so caught up in our little bubble of lying that we thought we were safe. We had minor scares here and there but nobody ever caught us so it never crossed my mind that somebody might get a hold of those videos after we managed to keep us a secret for so many months.” 

The older one took the inside of his cheek between his teeth, index finger tapping on his lips. “When I think back to all the excuses you made to leave with her, or how many times I saw you two leaving rooms at the company, I never would’ve thought that you were capable of doing what you did…”

“I was selfish, I put myself first to get what I want. I couldn’t bear the thought of breaking Yina’s heart and I felt horrible but I hurt her in so many ways and I know she will never forgive me and now I’m paying the price for what I’ve put her through.” His quivering lips pressed together tightly as Jungkook tried to stay in control of his body that was flooding with all the things he didn’t want to feel. “Y/n broke up with me…” He finally pulled the bracelet from his pocket, closing his eyes as his fingers traced the metal, wishing he could melt it to fix the cracks in his heart. “I deserve it, I don’t get to be happy after what I did and if I could turn back time and do the right thing - I would but I can’t. I deserve all the mean comments people are making about me, and they would rip me to shreds if they knew the whole story.” “You’ll have to forgive yourself; every day you’re growing and learning more. Next time you won’t make the same mistake again.” “How am I supposed to forgive myself when everyone hates me? Especially you guys…I can see it when you look at me, how disappointed and disgusted you are. You’re trying to be nice because we’re family but I broke your trust and I don’t even know how to fix things with Tae. He won’t even look at me, it’s like I don’t exist. I feel so lost, I want to fix everything but how do I do that? How do I get all of you to trust me again? How do I get Taehyung to forgive me? How do I make all the mean things people are saying go away? How do I get y/n back? I miss her.” In order to suppress a sob, he sunk his teeth into the soft flesh of his bottom lip - replacing the painful contractions of his heart with a stinging feeling that would soon subside.   A sigh escaped Namjoon’s lips before he rubbed his face with both of his hands. “I honestly wish I had the answers to all your questions but I think you need to focus on yourself right now. Be open and honest, not only with yourself but with the other members and you’ll see they’ll learn to trust you again. As for Taehyung, he needs time and you’ll just have to wait it out until he is ready to talk to you.” “W-wouldn’t it be easier if I just left the group? I don’t want to drag you down with me more than I already have.” He chuckled at the ridiculousness of the youngest statement. “Jungkookie, no! It’s either sink or swim and right now is the time to swim to stay afloat. You’ll have to fight to make things right again but you can come back from this. Right now it seems like you won’t; like it is the end of the world but you can and you will come out of this stronger.” Jungkook looked up and for the first time in days, he locked eyes with the leader. “It’s a little too late now, I know, but what would you do if you were in my shoes, hyung?”  Namjoon took a deep breath; he wasn’t sure if Jungkook would like his answer or not but after thinking about the options, he came to the conclusion that there was only one thing that would calm down the raging fans and the rest of the public who seemed to care too much about celebrity gossip. “If I were in your shoes, I would make a public apology. Get in front of the camera and own your mistake. Promise them that you’ll do better in the future. It will be a lot easier than hiding and waiting it out until they find a new scandal to bad-mouth somebody else.” Jungkook nodded, Namjoon only had his best interest at heart but the thought of having to stand in front of the cameras and owning up to his mistake scared him to death. What if they attacked him like starving animals? What if he messed up again and he would have to flee the country so they wouldn’t be able to lapidate him?

* After buttoning up her jacket, she looked in the small mirror on the wall - shocked to see that the concealer she had put on before work, had lost its power, making her look like she was ready to star in a zombie movie in a just a matter of hours. Sleep wasn’t easy to find; her thoughts always circling in around Jungkook and how much she missed him, missed his voice and his touch. She knew, she would be feeling like this for a while, yet she didn’t know how draining it would be. Of all the boyfriends she had been with before, none of them had anchored themselves inside her heart, unlike Jungkook who seemed to have superglued himself in place and there was no way to rip him out like an unwanted parasite. But maybe she was the parasite who poisoned his life and ruined his career; maybe all those girls were right when they said that she was the one to blame - that she was standing in the way of his future as if she hadn’t done enough damage already. No matter how badly she wanted to believe that their love was real, maybe it wasn’t. He was too good for her and she began to feel like she should just go back home to get as much space between them as possible - just in case their paths would cross again and she would get another chance at ruining his life. Shaking her head to banish the bad thoughts, a small smile tugged at her lips. Ha-na had told her not to read what people were saying online but she was weak and some girls made excellent points, she wasn’t pretty enough for Jungkook and maybe she should be pushed down the stairs because nobody would miss her anyway, especially not Jungkook. “Y/n, don’t forget to take home your new blouses.” Byungchul called as he passed by the staff room, stopping in his tracks. “I won’t.” She bowed to her boss. “What are you still doing here anyway?” He cocked an eyebrow, eyeing her suspiciously. He had told her to go home a while ago but she couldn’t bring herself to leave because if she did, she would have to be alone in her head and work was the only distraction she had. “I-I…I’m leaving now.” “Good, go home and get some rest, you look tired.” “I will.” She smiled weakly as she shouldered her bag and grabbed the little bundle of neatly folded white blouses. When she stepped outside, the cold air immediately filled her lungs and clearing her head momentarily. It would take her a lot longer to walk home but it was better than being crammed into the metro with people and even worse, maybe hearing his name somewhere that would send her into a downwards spiral of hurt and guilt. Her legs felt heavy as she dragged them over the concrete, the other people around her seemed to not have a care in the world. Everyone looked so happy, especially the couple in front of her holding hands. It wasn’t that she didn’t want others to be happy but the simple fact that Jungkook and her had never got to do just that, brought tears to her eyes. It all ended too quickly - if only they could have had one more perfect day together. 

The hard sounding footsteps of someone running echoed loudly in the store lined street but when she turned around, she only saw people walking alongside her, some of them even turned their heads to make out where it was coming from. “You’re in the way.” A girl brushed past her, bumping into her arm. “I’m sorry.” She bowed her head slightly, deciding that she probably had just been in her head too much and it had just been a figment of her imagination when suddenly someone ripped the bundle from her hand and ran down the street. It took her a moment to wrap her head around what just happened before her instincts kicked in and she hurried after the person in the black jacket. “Hey! Stop!” Her voice was weak, but to her surprise, her legs moved a lot faster than she had anticipated and she never lost sight of them, even with all those strangers around who’s faces were just a blur.

The person made a right turn into a smaller street off the side and when she finally turned the corner, she stopped in her tracks. The bundle had been ripped apart and the crisp white blouses were lying on the dirty street. Dropping her bag on the floor, she scurried to pick them up, trying to prevent them from getting ruined when someone yanked her ponytail. * Ha-na was sitting on the comfy sofa in the living room, Taehyung was resting his head on her shoulder while he busied himself on his Nintendo Switch. She was glad that he tried to distract himself and finally came out of his room, at least for a few hours, although he wasn’t speaking much to anyone that wasn’t her or his best friend. Jimin was mindlessly scrolling on his phone, the hood of his sweater pulled down deep to cover most of his face while the youngest was sitting on the floor next to him staring blankly at the tv just like the rest of the members. The atmosphere felt dense, everyone was just waiting for Sejin to come back to the dorms - he had texted Namjoon earlier that they had finally gotten a lead on who had leaked the videos. Ha-na still felt bad about everything that had happened, she had only wanted for Jungkook to do the right thing and everything just got out of hand. Her eyes rested on the bracelet he was holding, his fingers clinging onto the metal so tightly that the blood flow was low and his hand was shaking ever so slightly. When Jin had jokingly tried to take it away from him earlier, Jungkook had almost started throwing a tantrum. Would things ever go back to normal again? Going against everything she had told the others, it had become part of her routine to check any social media and news outlets for articles. She hated seeing that everyone seemed to have an opinion on Jungkook and y/n and spreading false rumors and lies that made everything worse. She was glad though that neither her boyfriend nor the youngest went online to see what people were saying, it would only put more strain on their already broken friendship. For once there had been no new publications but twitter was chaotic as always when she stumbled upon a tweet from a fan that caught her attention, linking to a video. ‘The bitch got what she deserved!’ Hesitantly Ha-na clicked on it, the quality was shaky and someone was breathing heavily and running while filming the street when loud voices could be heard in the near distance. “Oh my god! No.” She covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes focused on the screen. She wanted to look away, yet she couldn’t despite being repulsed by what she saw. “What’s up?” Taehyung sat up, trying to get a glimpse of what she was watching. “Nothing…” Not managing to lock her screen in time before he had already snatched it from her hand. The pure expression of shock on his face sent shivers down her body - she didn’t want him to see it, it would hurt him so much. He mumbled something, the others’ attention now on him as his eyes grew wider by the second. “What is it?” Jimin scooted over to his best friend to see what he was looking at. “Y/n…” In the blink of an eye, everyone had gathered around them, watching how a group of girls was pulling her hair, slapping her and calling her names, while she was on the ground trying to cover her face, pleading with them to leave her alone. The video wasn’t long, and after watching it a second time, Taehyung quickly dropped the phone and got up, hurrying to the small bathroom. Carefully her eyes wandered to Jungkook, his whole body was shaking and tears were streaming down his cheeks. Ha-na wasn’t sure how he was feeling; was he hurt, angry, disappointed or sad? His face showed no emotion, simply staring into nothingness, yet she knew there was a storm brewing inside of him. Seeing faceless comments through a screen was bad but actually hearing the words ‘you ruined his career, kill yourself’ coming from someone made her feel sick to her stomach. “That was…wow…” Hoseok breathed out, before rubbing his eyes in disbelief. “We have to do something, we can’t just let this happen.” “I’m going to see if she’s okay!” Jungkook grabbed his hoodie, ready to head for the door when Jimin quickly hopped over the back of the couch to stand in his way. “You can’t do that, you’ll get in trouble. You know, y/n wouldn’t want that. I’m sure, she’s fine.” He grabbed Jungkook’s arm, stopping him from pushing past him. “How can you say that? Those girls hit her because of me! I know her better than any of you, I know she’s not okay, I can feel it.” He tried wrenching his arm from Jimin’s grasp. “Hyung, get out of the way.” It was a weak warning, his voice getting caught in his throat. “Jungkook-ah, sit down.” Namjoon finally spoke up. “We can text or call her but you’re not allowed to leave the apartment without supervision so calm down.” The youngest caved in under the stern look on their leader’s face and slumped down on the couch, burying his face in his hands. “They say, she ruined my career but do they not know how much it would hurt me when they hurt her?” The eldest gently wrapped his arm around his shoulder. “I don’t think they were thinking that far ahead, they wanted to protect you-” Jungkook scoffed. “Protect me? From what exactly? From the girl I love?” “Or protect your career? You worked so hard and they didn’t want it to be in vain?” “But that doesn’t justify their actions, they could’ve seriously hurt her.” Yoongi murmured while nibbling on his thumb. “They covered their faces like cowards.” Jungkook’s brows furrowed as Taehyung’s voice came from the bathroom. “We have to tell someone who can do something.” 

“Already sent the link to the managers.” Namjoon reassured the youngest members. “And I texted her, she says she’s okay and at home and doesn’t want you to worry, Kook.” Ha-na tried to cheer him up with a weak smile but he didn’t reciprocate it, he just gently pressed the white gold bangle to his lips. “She’s lying so I don’t worry about her…” With a drawn-out sigh, he let his head fall back; the pressure in his chest was almost too much for him to bear. He wanted to do something, he wanted all of this to stop so they could go back to being together. There had to be a way and he was determined to find it. * “I’m very sorry, I won’t disappoint you again.” Jungkook finished, looking up at Jimin in the mirror. “How was that?” “It was good. You’ll do just fine.” A forced smile spread on his face, trying to encourage the youngest while he was practicing his apology that was scheduled for this afternoon. “You think? I mean, management approved it but does it sound… sincere? I don’t want to sound like I rehearsed it.” The older boy nodded. “Jungkookie, don’t worry so much! It will be okay.” “Okay, I trust you. You’re right! I can do this.” He looked down on his script. Jimin carefully eyed him, he still looked miserable but maybe this would encourage people to finally back off and drop the story. Taking a deep breath, he plugged the power cord into the wall socket next to the table. “Are you sure, you still want me to do this? You know, you really don’t have to!” “Yes, just do it. Get it over with.”

With shaking hands Jimin picked up the small black machine, turning it on with his thumb. “Where do you want me to start? On the side, so you can hide it in case you change your mind?” “Do whatever you want, I’m not going to look until you’re done.” Jungkook closed his eyes, silently mouthing the words of the script that was resting on his knees. The buzzing noise seemed to amplify in Jimin’s ears; he had promised to support Jungkook and to help him but now that he was actually going through with it, his mind fogged up with doubts. This was a stupid idea, nobody had asked for this gesture from him but he wanted to do it anyway - he wanted the fans to know that he was sorry for his actions. So now they were hiding in the youngest bedroom, just two hours before he was supposed to stand outside the company building and deliver a heartfelt apology to the public. An apology that Jimin thought was uncalled for; neither Jungkook nor y/n had leaked those videos on purpose, they weren’t to blame but the public’s opinion was different - they demanded a statement, an apology for causing such an uproar and breaking people’s trust. But as much as he hated how everything went down, Jimin still wanted his baby brother to be happy; he deserved to be happy and perhaps this was this only way of getting a tiny piece of happiness back. His eyes looked so - lifeless, that he almost couldn’t bear to see Jungkook like this any longer. His eyes scanned the blades moving at a rapid pace when he slowly raised his arm and held it to Jungkook’s hairline. “Are you still sure you want me to do this?” He asked again, making sure Jungkook really wanted this. “Hyung, yes!” He said firmly, as Jimin carefully cut off the first lock of raven hair, watching as it fell to the floor, followed by many more. It pained him to cut Jungkook’s hair short, only a few millimeters of it still covering his scalp. “I’m all done.” He announced, turning off the razor and putting it back down. “You can look now.” Nervously, he watched Jungkook’s eyes flutter open, fixating on his reflection in the mirror. His expression was blank as he ran his hand through what was left of his hair. Jimin wasn’t sure but he could’ve sworn for a millisecond he saw tears glistening in his eyes. “It’s not too bad, right?” “Yeah, it really brings out your eyes and it will grow back in no time, you’ll see.” He patted Jungkook’s shoulders, letting his fingers dig into his shirt for a brief moment. “And there’s always wigs or hats if you hate it later.” The younger boy chuckled. “I should get cleaned up.” “I’ll help you pick out an outfit if you want.” Jimin offered as Jungkook headed for the bathroom. “Thank you.” Jimin sat on the edge of the bed, letting his eyes wander around the room - not much had changed, apart from the box by the closet door that had y/n’s things in them that Jungkook couldn’t get rid off; a few clothes, a bottle of perfume and a few letters tied together with a ribbon.  Only now he had noticed that over the past months, he had not really been in here spending time with his little brother like they used to, playing video games or watching movies on his projector but knowing what had happened in here - it left a feeling of uncertainty floating in his stomach. Of course, he knew now that Jungkook had been hiding y/n in here a lot, trying to keep the secret well hidden from the other members. But Jimin couldn’t help but think that he had started to slip through their fingers a long time ago. Back in the day, they would’ve known immediately if something was wrong but ever since Jungkook had gotten older, he had developed a tendency to lock himself in his room whenever he could and if there was no schedule then he wouldn’t leave it for days. Jimin made a pact with himself - when all of this was over, he was going to make sure Jungkook was okay, that he would force him to come out of his room and go outside with him; it just didn’t feel right to leave him be, he needed to know that they all still wanted to spend time with him and that they would always be by his side, no matter what. * Jungkook was nervously hopping from one foot to the other as he was standing behind a screen waiting his turn while someone from the PR team was outside the company building, dealing with the press. He was used to all the flashing lights of the cameras and microphones being shoved in his face but this felt different - he was alone, his brothers weren’t by his side for moral support. His fingers wrapped around the bangle in the pocket of his blazer; for some reason, it comforted him. Although she had given it back to him, it was the only thing that kept the tiny spark of hope ignited in his chest. “We have found out that our artist’s private account was hacked by a third party, we are taking legal action against the hacker who invaded his privacy and we ask you to respect everybody’s privacy regarding the issue.” Jungkook’s ears picked up a few things here and there but his mind was preoccupied with the task at hand as his stomach churned. He wanted to throw up and run away; far, far away from all the people eagerly awaiting his apology but his legs felt like jello. [Jimin - 1:42pm] You’ll be okay! Just take deep breaths, it will be over before you know it! A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth when he read his brother’s message. Sometimes he really needed the encouragement from them; without them, he was lost. Sejin stuffed his own phone back into his pocket and nodded his head. “Are you ready?” “As ready as I’ll ever be…” He mumbled, as two of the other managers and a few security guards surrounded him. “Just stick to the script and you’ll do just fine. You don’t have to answer any questions. Just apologize and we’ll head back home right after.” Sejin gently rested his hand on Jungkook’s back. “I’ll be by your side the whole time.” Jungkook sunk his teeth into his lip balm coated bottom lip, as his legs involuntarily started moving with people around him. The glass door opened and the sea of flashes drowned out the sheer amount of people in the street. His heart was pounding against his ribs, as he walked up to the microphone stand. As the whispers died down, he could feel his throat closing up and his mouth felt as dry as the Sahara Desert. Eyes wandering over the blurry faces, his breathing became labored. He couldn’t do it, he just couldn’t get a word out. Maybe he should have had a sip of alcohol to calm his nerves but it was too late. In a knee-jerk reaction to buy more time, he pulled his cap off, revealing his buzzed off hair and bowing down as deep as he could as gasps echoed in his ears, mixed with girls calling his name. “Jungkook..” His manager’s voice was very close to him. “Say something…” In slow-motion he lifted his upper body, carefully scanning the crowd when his eyes found her face - he knew she wasn’t there and that his mind was playing tricks on him but it was the small push he needed to find his voice. He was doing this for her, he wanted people to just leave her alone. She didn’t deserve any of this, she didn’t deserve to be attacked online and especially not getting beat up by fans in an alley at night. The stinging pain in his chest subsided when he finally cleared his throat and found his voice again. “Thank you for taking the time out of your day to be here.” He paused, bowing his head again, trying to remember his lines but the memory of them got blurry, they were escaping him too quickly as he tried to hold onto them. “I-I just want to say, I’m very sorry for my actions. I couldn’t stop thinking about how I let down so many people with my reckless and shameful behavior.” His shaking fingers gripped on to the wooden stand of the mic for some support; Sejin’s hand calmly rested on his shoulder while the pressure it was executing felt like a ton of bricks was coming down on him as if Jungkook was about to run away and needed a reminder to stay still. “I’m so sorry to everyone and especially the fans who had to see me like this. I know, I broke your trust and disappointed all of you. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me in the future and I promise to never let you down again. Army, you’re always on my mind and it really hurts me to have hurt so many of you with what I have done. Please forgive me.” After delivering his lines, he exhaled shakily; his face felt like it was on fire. “I won’t disappoint you again, I’m sorry.” The crowd was silently watching him, eagerly waiting for him to say something else as his mouth opened and closed without making a sound. “Let’s go, PR will do the rest.” His manager muttered, his hand scooting to Jungkook’s elbow to get him to turn around and go back inside. “One more thing…” Jungkook took a step forward again. “Please, leave her alone. We’re not seeing each other anymore. I-I… all I ask of you is to just leave her alone, please. She’s not in my life anymore…” He trailed off, his lips felt tense as he tried to hold it together. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled more to himself, slowly sinking to his knees on the pavement to bow one last time. The clicking of the cameras was overwhelming his senses, it almost felt like he wasn’t really inside his body anymore when he felt hands holding onto his arms and pulling him to his feet. Not needing much force, he wrenched his right arm free, hiding his tear-stained face in the crook of his elbow. “Come on…” Sejin’s voice was close to his ear as he let him guide him back inside, unsure of whether he did good or not but as soon as doors closed, the babel of alarmed voiced told him that he had gone too far. “What were you thinking going off script? Do you know how bad this could’ve been! We told you to stick to the script. Oh god…” The head of the PR team gestured wildly in front of his face. “I don’t know if we can fix this…Jungkook why do you always have to cause so much trouble?” She puffed up her cheeks before letting out a disappointed grunt. “I’m sorry.” He fixated his eyes on the ground. “It’s just…some fans attacked y/n and I-I just wanted to protect her. I wanted the fans to leave her alone. They should take their anger out on me and not on her.” He felt the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes again, immediately trying to dry them with a tissue. “He didn’t say anything bad. He just asked them to leave her alone, it’s not a big deal.” Sejin interrupted before Hyejin could scold him some more. “I’ll take him home now.” Gently he nudged the raven-haired boy towards the elevator that would take them to the car. “Do you think I did the wrong thing?” Jungkook mumbled as he sunk deeper into the passenger seat, avoiding his manager’s gaze at all costs. “I mean it’s not ideal but it’s okay. I understand why you did it…” He trailed off, averting his attention to the road until they stopped at a red light. “I saw what they did to her, so I understand that you want to do something to protect her. If you want, I’ll request security for her until it all blows over.” Jungkook shook his head, still not used to not feeling his bangs brush against his forehead whenever he moved or touched his head. “I don’t think she would like that but I’ll have Ha-na ask her.” * Jungkook was sitting cross-legged on his bed, his back resting against the headboard, emptily staring at his laptop where he had put on a let’s play to keep his brain and body from going stir-crazy. “Jungkookie?” Hoseok opened the door, sticking his head inside his room. “I thought, maybe you wanted something to eat? You haven’t had anything all day.” The older one came in, closing the door behind him before proceeding to sit on the foot of the bed. Carefully he placed the plate on the mattress between them, pulling a can of coke from the pocket of his hoodie. “Did you make that?” Jungkook eyed the sandwich from all angles, lifting the plate up to eye level. “Jin hyung helped me, he said I was stacking the ingredients in the wrong order.” The older one rolled his eyes before a smile spread on his face. “But I think there’s no wrong order, it’ll taste the same no matter what.” He winked, opening the can, and placing it on the nightstand. Jungkook chuckled. “You’re right.” He wasn’t particularly hungry but since his brother had been so kind as to make him something to eat, he eagerly took a bite. “Delicious.” He pressed out while chewing the bread. “Good, I’m glad you like it.” Hoseok reached out to pat his head but Jungkook pulled away immediately - he felt self-conscious, even more so after getting scolded by his hyungs for cutting his hair short. Not wanting to admit that he had lost some of his confidence with each strand that had been cut off - but maybe that was what he deserved, after putting everyone around him through so much. For a while they just sat on his bed, Hoseok watching him devour the food and sipping on the sugary beverage - neither of them saying a word but the silence didn’t feel as uncomfortable as it did just days ago, at least to the older one it didn’t. “Jungkookie, listen…” With wide eyes, he stared at Hobi when he finally spoke. “I didn’t just come here to bring you food, I actually wanted to say something.” “Okay?” Anxiety was making his chest feel tight; instantly regretting eating the sandwich as he was about to throw it back up. He didn’t need to get scolded again, he didn’t want to hear yet again what a terrible person he was and that he couldn’t do anything right these days. “I just wanted to, you know, tell you that we’re okay.” Almost choking on his own saliva, Jungkook cleared his throat. “We’re okay?” He repeated dumbfounded. “Yes, we are. I know, I wasn’t really supportive and judgmental at first but I just didn’t know what to think or how to handle the situation. I hope you understand where I’m coming from… I had to sort through my thoughts and came to the conclusion that I was just worried about you and our career. You are like family to me, JK; I want what’s best for you and I know, you’re probably mad at me too but I’m here for you now.”  “I was never mad at you.” He mumbled, averting his gaze to white bedding between them. “I know I disappointed all of you. I never wanted you to find out what I did, especially not like this.” “I know that but let’s just put in the past, okay?” Hoseok carefully placed his hand on Jungkook’s knee. “You’re going through so much right now and I just want to be here for you and help you. It really hurts to see you so sad all the time.” A weak smile tugged at his lips. “I’m going to be okay, you don’t have to worry.” “I worry about you all the time, we all do. So please, Jungkookie, if you need to talk to someone, we’re all here for you, you know that right?” “Hyung, I know that.” 

* Jimin knocked on the door, a short knock followed by two quick ones - their not so secret sign that it was either one of them before he entered the youngest room, who was busy pulling out clothes from his closet and throwing them on the floor. 

“Is that what you wanted help with? Sorting out your clothes?” Jimin mused, trying to find a free piece of flooring for him to step closer to Jungkook. “Hyung, no…I-” He gasped, practically ripping a hoodie from a hanger. “I have a plan, and I need your help.” “A plan? A plan that involves donating clothes to charity?” “No…” Jungkook held two identical-looking black hoodies up. “I’m going to see y/n.” “WHAT?” Jimin’s eyes grew wide, the sheer panic was straining his voice. “You’re not allowed to do that, you will get into trouble.” “I know but I don’t care. I just want to see her and I’m not going to wait any longer.” “And how do you plan on doing that, huh? We still have security around and last time I checked, the press is still waiting outside.” “That’s where you’ll come in…” There was a dangerous twinkle in Jungkook’s eyes that could only mean trouble but Jimin was more than intrigued and willing to help. “Do you want me to call you a taxi? Because I have my phone right here.” “No, you’ll help me sneak past security and the press, I’ll take care of the rest.” “I will need more details…” “Go get your black sweat pants and Vans, I’ll explain it to you when you get back here.” Jimin was confused, but he blindly followed the instructions as he quickly walked back to his room. For once happy that Hoseok was so adamant about his skincare routine that he had the room to himself for a bit. “What are you doing? I saw you sneaking into Jk’s room.” A deep voice made him spin around on his heels. Taehyung was walking towards him, his arms crossed in front of his chest. “I’m just helping him with something.” “With what?” “I can’t tell you.” Immediately he regretted saying those words to his best friend, who looked so hurt that his lips pursed trying to hide his dismay. “Okay, fine, I’ll tell you but you have to promise me that you won’t tell a soul what we’re doing.” “Promise.” He held up his pinky, so Jimin could wrap his own around it. “Stamp it.” They said in unison when they twisted their hands so the pads of their thumbs could meet. “We’re trying to sneak Jk out of here so he can go check on y/n.” “What?” Taehyung whisper yelled.  “Yeah, please don’t tell anyone.” “I won’t.” Taehyung locked eyes with him. “I will help you.” “What?” Jimin was confused, Taehyung was still mad at them, why was he now offering to help Jungkook? “Yes, I want to know if she’s okay too…” He muttered, his cheeks turning pink. “Ever since I saw what happened to her, I’ve been worried sick. I know she loves Jungkook and she probably wants to see him too…so I’m going to help him.” An overwhelming feeling spread in Jimin’s chest, although Taehyung was so deeply hurt by what they had done, he still loved them; putting aside his own hurt to help his friends. Jimin felt his eyes tearing up, quickly wiping them with his sleeve. “I’m sure, Jungkookie will appreciate your help, Taetae.” He ruffled the younger one's hair. “You’ll need black sweats and a matching hoodie, so go grab them.” Tae nodded, hurrying back to his room to grab his clothes. A small part of Jimin was unsure whether Jungkook would approve of this but for the time being, he was just glad that Taehyung was coming around; it was the first step to mending the broken friendships. They stood in front of the mirror, the three of them wearing matching black outfits, a black mask to cover half their faces and the hoods pulled deep down their foreheads. “I think this will work, it’s dark outside if we move fast, they won’t notice a difference.” Taehyung muttered, adjusting his mask once again. “Jungkook-ah, don’t do anything stupid. If it’s too risky, we will find another way, okay?” “Sure, yeah.” He lied, not an ounce of his body was going to give up on seeing her tonight. Every nerve inside of him was missing her, he couldn’t wait - each minute that passed felt like torture. He was losing her, she was getting further and further away from him and there was nothing he could do - it was like he was trying to catch smoke with his bare hands. “Then let’s go.” Jimin clapped his hands together and they quietly walked out into the hallway, trying not to make a sound. Jimin knew that this idea was stupid beyond belief and he didn’t quite understand why he was participating in it but helping Jungkook was more important, they could deal with the repercussions later, together.  “Where do you think you’re going?” Jin’s voice made the three boys flinch when he turned on the light. “Why are you dressed like that?” “We…uhm…” Jimin tried to come up with a white lie but his brain was slowing down.  “I’m going to see y/n!” Jungkook said bluntly. “And they’re helping me.” 

Jimin quickly rammed his elbow into the youngest ribs to shut him up but it was too late. They would now have to go back to their rooms without even the slightest chance of leaving the building. “I’m appalled.” The eldest clicked his tongue. “There’s no way for you to get past security, especially for you Jungkook.” “We’ll find a way. We have to.” He stuttered, not having an idea of how to even leave the apartment without having to face the guard outside. “You should’ve just come to me earlier.” “What?” “I’ll help you. Wait by the door, you’ll know when the time is right.” Jin winked at them, before grabbing his car keys from the sideboard and leaving the apartment. Taehyung quickly grabbed the door-handle, making sure it didn’t close and they could listen to what was going on. “I just need to grab something from my car, I’ll be right back.” “Alright, sir.” The stern security guard said, not moving an inch from his chair. “How is that supposed to help us get out?” Jungkook rolled his eyes, he was getting antsy waiting for something to happen. The others shrugged, pressing their ears to the door, focusing on any sign from the oldest member. Only a few minutes later, Jin’s panicked voice suddenly echoed through the hallway. “You need to go down to the parking garage. I saw some people down there sneaking around.” “What?” “Yes, I think they’re trying to get access to the building.” A lot of rustling was making it difficult for them to understand what was going on but soon Jin pulled the door open. “Go.” He whispered. “They should be distracted for a while.” “Thank you.” Jungkook mouthed, as he hurried towards the stairs, following the older boys as they sprinted down to the exit. For once, luck was on their side and they soon stood underneath the trees, hiding in complete darkness. “How are we going to do this now?” Taehyung was trying to catch his breath, his hand pressing into his side where he felt a sting. His heart was racing and his breathing was labored, the adrenaline rush was making him feel lightheaded. Jungkook exhaled. “You go out first, make sure they see you. You’ll have to move quickly and then Jimin will do the same and if the timing’s right, I’ll go.” “Do you think that will work?” Jimin questioned, still not convinced that the plan was well thought out. “I don’t know, we will see, I guess.” They quickly moved to the exit, where the press was still gathered at this hour. Quietly they hid behind a wall, giving them the perfect view of their playing field. Jungkook watched how Taehyung pulled the hood deep down his face, speed walking on the right side to sneak away behind the spectators but they easily spotted him, almost attacking him with microphones and cameras. “Jimin-ah, go.” He nodded, making sure the mask was covering his mouth before he ran out on the left side, making the paparazzi almost break their necks. “That’s him! That’s him!” A woman screeched and they collectively hurried after Jimin, who was running like the devil himself was chasing him down the street. Taehyung was leaning against the wall, waving his hand by his side of his body and that was all Jungkook needed to sprint past him as fast as he could. There was no time to thank his brothers, he would do that later, now he had to focus on running and getting enough distance between him and all those people. He didn’t care that the cold air was making his eyes water, he didn’t care that his legs were starting to feel weak; he had to keep going; repeating her name over and over in his head. A loud banging on the door made her sit up straight in her bed, her body involuntarily started shaking right away. Did they find out where she lived? Did they follow her home? She wasn’t quite sure if she really heard someone calling her name, or if she was imagining it as she slowly got up and quietly walked towards the door. “Y/n open the door, please.” She recognized his voice instantly, her fingers wrapping tightly around the handle before pressing it down; she had no strength left in her to fight the need to see his face. “Kookie, what are you…” Without a word, he stepped inside closing the door with his foot before wrapping his arms around her to hide his face in the crook of her neck. Hesitantly her nails dug into his hoodie, bunching up the fabric in her fists. He didn’t say anything, she just felt his tears on her skin burning like acid rain. When her grip loosened, he pulled away from her but keeping his gaze low. “We should go to my room.” “Okay.” He followed her with his heart hammering in his chest; he had noticed her hesitation and it made it harder for him to breathe. What if coming here was not a good idea?  Reluctantly they stood facing each other but her brows furrowed and her hand went up to his head, pulling the hood down - eyes widening when she saw it. Jungkook felt queasy, he didn’t want her to see his hair this short. “I-I…noona…” “I like it, you look manlier.” Biting down on her bottom lip, she forced her lips into a smile to suppress the tears that were about to spill from her eyes. Gently, she ran her hand over his head, making him lean into her touch. “I really do like it, you look handsome.” Jungkook let out a staggered breath; what she thought mattered most to him and if she liked it then he would be able to like it too, eventually, maybe. Only now he noticed the bruises on her cheeks, the little cuts on her forehead. “I’m sorry they did that to you.” He swallowed an invisible lump, his fingers gently reaching out to touch her cheek but she moved her head away from him. “It’s okay, I’m fine.” “Are you really?” She nodded but it wasn’t convincing enough, he pulled her in close, ever so lightly he cupped her face to press the lightest of kisses to her cheeks and forehead. Eyes swimming in tears, she looked up at him. “You still love me…?” Jungkook felt tears running down his cheeks. “Yes, I still love you.” He didn’t know why but he leaned in for a kiss - he just wanted to be with her and not think of anything that happened over the past couple of days. The moment their lips touched he felt a hiccup in his heartbeat like when he missed a step. Everything just felt for so right again like they belonged together and he was sure she must have been sensing it too. Deepening the kiss, his tongue was practically begging for access when out of the blue she pushed him away. “What’s wrong?” He asked, not able to wrap his head around what just happened. “Go! You need to leave. This isn’t good, okay?” “Wait! Why? I don’t want to leave, I want to be with you!” “Jungkook you have to go!” He didn’t understand; mere seconds ago she was kissing him back and now she was telling him to leave, but he didn’t want to, not yet at least. His eyes were focusing in on the bracelet that she was still wearing, and so did he. She never took it off, not even after she broke up with him, just like he promised her on that day at the beach… To Jungkook’s own surprise, lies were rolling off his tongue so easily these days - without batting an eye, he had told his hyungs that he was taking Yina out for the day. When in reality, it was y/n’s day off and he wanted to spend it with her, far away from people they knew to lower the risk of getting caught. In the early hours of the morning, he had picked her up to take her to Naksan beach which was four hours away from Seoul, on the opposite coastline. Contrary to road trips with Yina, who enjoyed just watching the scenery, the drive with y/n was different - they would sing together, she’d feed him snacks she packed and when they got quiet, she played with his hair while watching the sunrise. In Jungkook’s opinion, the drive itself was perfect - even if they would never arrive at their destination, he was truly happy that day. After exploring Yangyang and eating a ridiculously big lunch, they finally went to the beach, walking along the pier to the little red lighthouse to take some pictures. He recalled being here for a photo shoot not too long ago but back then they didn’t have time to wander around and enjoy the beautiful view of the ocean. The weather was dreary, clouds in all shades of gray forming a big cluster on the sky, making them the only two people who dared to visit the beach that day. “Can you put him in your pocket?” She held out the little plush bunny in swimming shorts that he had bought for her at a small souvenir shop in town. “I don’t want to get him wet.” “Of course.” He neatly tucked the bunny in the pocket of his jacket, making sure the button was secured, not wanting to risk losing it. She smiled up at him while rolling up her jeans and stuffing her socks into her sneakers before she ran towards the shoreline to dip her feet into crystal clear water. “It’s so cold.” She squealed, jumping from one foot to the other. “Come on, hurry up!” “I’m coming.” He called, slowly slipping off his own shoes but watching her run away from the waves that crashed on the sand was a lot more fun than doing it himself. The sand felt soft underneath his feet when he made his way over, making sure his eyes never left her. It dawned on him that he had never noticed, until now, how cute she actually was. Of course, he knew how beautiful she was but her little squeals whenever a wave caught up to her made his heart melt - he really was the luckiest guy on earth to have found his soulmate without even having to look for her. It was almost like he had never properly understood what real love felt like until he looked in her eyes; the thought often crossed his mind but a part of him thought it was ridiculous to even think that way. His heart, on the other hand, was sure that she was the girl he’d be spending the rest of his life with. “What are you doing?” Her voice caught him off guard, he hadn’t noticed that he was standing still, just looking at her. “I-I was just thinking…” He trailed off, ears turning a deep shade of pink underneath his cap while she was walking towards him, her hand stretched out for him to hold. “Kookie, don’t think about what happens when we get back to Seoul, please. I want to have a nice day, okay?” He nodded, lacing their fingers together - if only she knew what had been on his mind. She lifted their hands up to press a chaste kiss on the back of his hand before she started running, pulling him along with her. The water was cold but it felt unbelievably good, he couldn’t remember the last time he went to a beach just to have some fun and not for something work-related. For a while, they played catch with the waves and splashed each other with water until he felt exhaustion spreading to his limbs.  He sat down in the sand; just far enough so the water couldn’t reach him. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, letting the fresh salty air fill his lungs and the gusts of wind caressed his skin and at that moment he felt complete, the missing puzzle pieces were all in place like nothing could go wrong. He felt her presence, his eyes fluttering open as she was about to sit down next to him but he quickly pulled her in between his legs so she could lean against his chest. Tightly he wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on top of her head. Neither of them said a word, just watching a few stray clouds letting hints of the hidden blue sky peek through the cracks; the calming sound of the waves crashing on the shore seemed to drown out the whole world around them. Her fingers gently played with his as she shifted a little to rest her head against his shoulder. “I wish every day could be like this.” She mumbled softly, making his heart ache. He wanted to give her everything she wanted, he really did and he would go to the end of the world for her if that meant she was happy. Jungkook leaned down, gingerly pressing his lips on top of her head. “Then I’ll take you to the beach every day and every day can be like this.” And although they both knew that it was just a fantasy and would never be possible, he heard the smile in her voice when she whispered “Okay.” Suddenly she untangled his arms from around her torso and kneeled down in front of him, still between his legs. “I wanted to give you something…” Her hand slid into the pocket of her jacket. “Close your eyes.” He did as he was told, her shaking fingers wrapped around his wrist. “Hold still.” He could hear she was concentrating when something cold touched his skin and he fought the urge to flinch. “Okay, you can open your eyes.” Looking down on his wrist, there was a black leather bracelet with a silver plate. “I- y/n, you didn’t have to..” “Yes I had to, you did all this for today.” She paused, pulling up her sleeve to reveal the same bracelet on her wrist but the delicate metal plate was rose-gold. “Thank you for making our 100th day anniversary so special.” She leaned in, her lips brushing against his and his heart stopped. He didn’t know, he had absolutely no idea it was their anniversary. Maybe because they were keeping their relationship a secret and they never had a real official first date, or maybe it was because she had mentioned that those things didn’t really matter to her anyway that he had paid no attention as to how many days they had been together. He felt like a jerk but he knew that if he told her the truth it would break her heart and that was the last thing he wanted. “I’m never taking it off, thank you.” He pulled her in closer, crashing his lips on hers; hoping that she could feel how much he loved her. “Can you at least look me in the eyes and tell me you want me to leave?” His voice was fragile; he was scared that she would do it and he could already feel the cracks in his heart getting bigger with every breath he took without her giving him an answer. “If you can’t say it when looking at me…” “Then what? You’re not going to leave?” He shook his head, ready to stand his ground; he wasn’t going to leave now, not after what he had been through to get here. “No, I won’t because I don’t really think you want me to…” Throwing her hands up in frustration, she let out a sigh. “What part of us being together is bad, don’t you understand?” “I don’t understand because you and I is the only good thing that has come from all of this.” “But there is no you and me anymore! I ruined everything.” “What do you mean you ruined everything?” “I ruined your friendships, as well as my own and your career. I shouldn’t be around you and that’s why there is no you and me anymore. Got it?” His mouth opened and closed without making a sound; did she really think she was the only one responsible for what happened - that she was the only one hurting all the time? “So can you please just leave?” She mumbled, looking down at her feet but he couldn’t get his own to move. “No, noona... I don’t want you to think that you ruined everything. You didn’t, you made everything better for me.” Carefully he moved in a little bit closer, wanting to wrap his arms around her and just hold her until she understood that he was all in and wouldn’t go anywhere, even if she didn’t want him to stay. She let out a sigh. “You say that now because you don’t want to see that I fucked everything up.” Slowly she sat down on her bed, fiddling with the hem of her pajama top to keep her busy from doing something she’d regret. “You really didn’t, I promise.” Sitting down next to her, he got a good look at the bruises on her legs; he wasn’t the only one who had been through hell and back these past days. He was desperately looking for something he could say - something that would make her change her mind and just take him back. It didn’t matter that to him that he would’ve lied to everyone again, he needed to be with her and if that meant the end of his career then so be it; he was willing to give up his dreams for her but he knew that if he voiced his thoughts, she would never let that happen. After a while, he cleared his throat that was threatening to close up. “So…do you really want me to leave?” His tongue had trouble forming the words; he had imagined that him showing up at her place would go differently. He had been sure that she would’ve been happy to finally see him again but he had never been so wrong in his life. She adjusted her position to face him; Jungkook was preparing himself to go home and hide in bed when her arms wrapped around his neck and her lips hungrily pressed on his. He was in shock; he didn’t see it coming so all he could do for a moment was stare at her face before his eyes fluttered shut and kissed her back. Licking into his mouth, her hands started pulling at his hoodie, wanting to remove the unwanted item of clothing. Firmly his hands wrapped around her wrists as he broke away from her. “Noona, what does this-“ 

Her index finger pressed to his open mouth while she placed soft kisses to his jawline. “Ssshhh just be with me now…” Jungkook nodded, despite being confused. His mind was racing but he still couldn’t bring himself to say no to her, although he had so many questions that were still unanswered. Deliberately she pulled the hoodie over his head before reconnecting their lips in a somewhat innocent kiss. Almost immediately he felt her fumbling with the drawstrings of his sweat pants, rushing to get rid of everything that separated them. “Noona…” He attempted to mumble into the kiss, this time she pulled away. “Kookie, please.” Her whiny voice was the last push he needed to gently push her down into the pillows on the bed. Kissing her again, his trembling fingers started unbuttoning her top; his nerves were getting the upper hand like they did the first time they slept together. Their tongues were shyly playing a game of catch as her nails gently scratched over his bare shoulders; he could still taste the all too familiar traces of her vanilla lip balm, maybe not everything had changed. Blindly his hand cupped her breast, rolling the bud between his index finger and thumb, instantly evoking a soft whimper from her as her hips bucked up, colliding with his.  Leaving a trail of butterfly kisses down her neck to the rosy mounds of flesh, sucking the hardening bud into his mouth. Jungkook groaned when a delicious moan reached his ears, making his member twitch excitedly in its soft fabric prison. Gingerly he let his hand followed the curve of her body when he licked his way back up to her mouth.  “Please touch me…” A whisper that held so much power over him.  Her skin was covered in goosebumps as he reached the waistband of her panties, letting his fingertips slip inside. “You’re so wet already, baby.” Jungkook mumbled against her neck as she held on tightly to his shoulder while his middle finger ventured down her core; gasping when it dipped inside just a bit to gather some of her juices. Lips glued to her neck, he let his fingertips trace her lips, wanting to remember how every inch of her body felt - he needed to engrave it into his memory just in case this was the last time he would get to touch her. “Baby…” She whined when he finally circled in around her clit, avoiding the spot that would soon make her squirm. Peppering soft kisses up to her ear, where he gently nibbled on her lobe. “I missed you so much, you don’t even know…” Jungkook’s voice was low and raspy when he spoke, eliciting a small cry from her when his fingers applied more pressure around the sensitive nub. “I missed kissing you…” Her nails dug deeper into his skin as she tried to keep quiet, only betrayed by her own hips who tried so desperately to get more friction than Jungkook was supplying. He exhaled, stopping the motion of his fingers, nervous anticipation filling the gap between them. “I missed touching you…” Arching her back off the mattress when he finally grazed the spot he’d been avoiding deliberately, her legs squirming against his at the newfound waves of pleasure coming down on her. “Stay still, baby.” He softly chuckled, managing to trap at least one of her legs underneath his right. Fondly he smiled down on her as he watched her blossom under his ministrations, pressing her arm to her mouth to muffle the repeated moans of his name. Until now Jungkook had never realized how amazing it was to watch her fall apart; he did enjoy using his tongue but being able to see how her face flushed and her lashes fluttered from the little circles his fingers were drawing was out of this world - making him fall in love with her all over again. 

“P-please stop.” She tried to wiggle away from him a little; normally he would keep going, knowing that she was getting close but he paused, giving her enough time to slip her hand down his sweats and wrap it around his length. “Noona…ahh.” His voice hitched and his head fell back when she slowly started rubbing her thumb over the tip, coating it with the beads of precum that just kept spilling. Her touch was very light but he was so desperate to feel her that his body reacted erratically, bucking his hips into her hand; never wanting her to stop. Trailing sweet kisses up his neck until she reached his lips, she delicately sucked on his bottom lip, making it throb in her mouth; her hand moving up and down his dick painfully slow, feeling him getting harder by the second. Jungkook whimpered, almost melting in his briefs. He was getting ready to distract himself from his own pleasure by touching her again when she broke the kiss. “Kookie…” There was no moaning, no outcry to get him to touch her and his heart sank for a second, fearing that they had gone too far. “Love me…” She whispered softly, looking up at him, her other hand cupping his cheek. He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch, relishing the warm feeling spreading in his chest before shifting his body weight to his knees, he placed a kiss to her lips, fully prepared to show her how much he loved her. Kneeling down between her legs, he gently lifted them to roll her panties up to discard them on the floor next to the bed, before spreading them again. “I’m so lucky, you’re so handsome.” She smiled lovingly, wanting to reach up to touch his face but he wouldn’t let her, making her pout in return. A little too eagerly, Jungkook pushed down his sweats and briefs - his heart hiccuping in anticipation of being one with her again. Holding and kissing her was amazing but sleeping with her always felt different to him; it was some form of a deeper connection he couldn’t even begin to explain. Lying down on top of her, supporting most of his weight on his arms next to her shoulders, he started peppering small kisses all over her cheeks to her lips, letting his tongue disappear in her mouth to taste her again. Slowly grinding against her core, just to make sure she was still wet enough for him when she whimpered into the kiss; the engorged tip of his member applying enough pressure to her clit to send her flying again.  Shoving his one hand between their bodies to line himself up, before he pushed the tip inside, the feeling of bliss washing over him as he felt the velveteen walls hugging his dick. “Is that okay?” He asked, brushing her hair from her face. “More than okay.” She smiled, puckering up her lips for yet another kiss.  Jungkook was moving slowly, taking his sweet time, enjoying every little noise he was eliciting from her with each stroke. Her nails were digging into his shoulder blades, clinging onto him for dear life, as if it was just a dream and he would disappear the moment she woke up. Their lips were glued together, only ever breaking apart to up their oxygen intake before diving back in for more. He adjusted his position, pushing her legs up to his sides so she could rest her calves on his lower back - his body was ready to chase his down his high but he had to shift his focus on hers first. When he bottomed out after a hard thrust, she pulled away, letting her head fall back. “Oh god, right there.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth; he loved that she always let him know when he was hitting the right spot. “’s that good, baby?” He asked, hips slamming into her much harder than before but she couldn’t answer him, too busy trying to muffle her moans against his skin. He wanted her to let herself fall and just bathe in the waves of pleasure washing over her body but he could tell she was holding back a little. Jungkook sucked on his fingers, letting his hand venture down to the swollen bundle of nerves to rub it again. Gasping for air, she locked eyes with him as she let out whiny moans of his name. “Jungkook-ah…” “It’s okay baby, you can cum. Don’t wait for me.” He encouraged her, sucking a small bruise on the column of her throat. Bottoming out with every thrust, he knew that she needed him to go faster to reach her high. Alternating between little figure-eights and flicking her clit, he knew she would soon reach the point of no return. Her moans were fogging up his brain - each one higher in pitch than the last, making it difficult for him to keep a steady pace. The knot in his stomach that was pulling itself tighter and tighter was about to snap but he had to keep going, they were both so unbelievably close that he wasn’t sure how much longer he could last, her hips now meeting his halfway. “You feel so good.” Jungkook panted, her convulsing walls trying to milk him dry; his scrotum contracting dangerously.  “Baby!” She whined a heads up, her left hand fisting the sheets while the other tightly squeezed his biceps, the stinging feeling of his skin completely subdued by the rush of her high. He was in a daze, watching her come undone, her loud moans ringing in his ears as his member suddenly erupted when he bottomed out, hot white streams of cum painting her walls as white as snow. Letting his body sink onto hers, he buried his face in the crook of her neck as his own orgasm washed over him. “I love you, baby…I love you so much…I love you” He let out a slurry of moans against her sweat glistening skin, thrusting sloppily to get every last drop as deep inside of her as he could, never wanting to come down from this high. Breathing heavily but staying still, he softly pressed little pecks to her shoulder when a sob shook him to his core. He lifted his head up to look at her but hers was turned the other way. “Noona, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” “No, I’m fine…j-just ignore me.” She blubbered, trying to wipe the tears away without him noticing. He pulled out to lie down beside her, wrapping his arms around her trembling body. “Tell me what’s wrong…let me fix it.” He whispered; the dopamine from his orgasm that had rushed through his veins, vanishing instantly. “No, no it’s okay…just give me a minute.” But he couldn’t, the world no longer made sense to him; he just couldn’t come up with a reason why she suddenly broke down in tears after he had just told her how much he loved her when she had wanted him to make love to her. “Noona, it’s not okay. You wouldn’t be crying if it was.” She turned around in his arms, burying her face against his chest, her tears feeling like a thousand needles poking and prodding at his skin. “I-I…” A choked sob riddled her body, his embrace tightening around her. He felt so lost, not knowing what to do or how to comfort her. Was he supposed to just hold her and let her cry? But that was easier said than done when he felt tears pricking at his own eyes. “I love you so much, Kookie and it just sucks that we can’t…be together anymore.” “Yes, we can be together, don’t say that.” Desperation was flaring up in his chest as the tears finally escaped their prison. “No, we can’t and you know it.” The sniffles were muffled against his quickly rising chest. “But why? I’m here now. I will always be here.” “Because I’m holding you back and…” He wanted to go deaf so that he wouldn’t have to hear her say any of that nonsense. “- and I’m just standing in your way and ruining your career and I don’t want that. I want you to be happy even if it’s without me.” “But how am I supposed to be happy without you?” His heart was slowly crumbling to pieces, not able to grasp the concept that he could ever be okay without her in his life.  “I don’t know but eventually you’ll move on with someone else…” Untangling his arms from her, he sat up, forcing her to do the same. She didn’t know one bit, how much he had suffered from being separated from her, his heart felt like it was incomplete, missing its other half.  “I won’t! After everything, we went through…I don’t want anyone else. I want you, don’t you get it?” Averting her eyes to the pillows, she tried to avoid looking at him - tears rapidly flowing down his cheeks. “I want you too but you know, sometimes things just don’t work out, no matter how badly you want them to.” “Bullshit! You just let those stupid comments get to you and now you’re pushing me away because those people made you believe you’re not good for me.” “But they are right…” She weakly protested. “If you truly believed that, you would’ve taken your bracelet off but you’re still wearing it…do not lie to me like that.” He inhaled shakily, feeling like someone was standing on his chest, infringing on his ability to breathe properly. As if she was reminiscing, her fingertips traced the metal plate on the bracelet. “I just want what’s best for you…and it’s not me.” “Y/n, you know that we are meant to be together. You have said it yourself that we are soulmates, how can you even say that we’re not supposed to be together?” “You have to grow up and learn that you can’t always get what you want. This isn’t a candy store…” “Are you even listening to yourself? You’re trying so hard to keep us apart with those stupid reasons…” He got up, pulling his pants up and reaching for his hoodie on the floor. He could tell that she wanted to say something but she kept quiet, fresh tears dripping down her cheeks and onto her bare chest. “I’m not going to give up so easily…you will see that we are meant to be together and I don’t care what anyone says and you shouldn’t either…maybe you can grow up and learn that we are a thing that’s worth fighting for.”  His hand slid into the pocket of his hoodie, holding tightly onto the white gold Love bracelet, before placing it on her nightstand.  “This is yours because I’m yours.” 

*

“Where is he?” Namjoon was pacing up and down the living room, checking his watch for the hundredth time in the past 20 minutes, after they had noticed that Jungkook wasn’t home or nowhere to be found anywhere in the apartment complex, or around on the premisses to clear his head. “I’d like to know that too…” Yoongi was unusually worried, eyeing the other members who were quietly sitting on the sofa, pretending they couldn’t hear a word they were saying. “You guys know something...” Hoseok contemplated, tapping on his chin with his index finger. “I’m sure of it, you all look really suspicious…” “Exactly! Spill it!” Yoongi agreed while Namjoon tried calling the youngest yet again. “What? We don’t know anything.” Jin shrugged his shoulders. “I think, we should just calm down, he’ll be home soon. I’m sure, he just needed to blow off some steam. Did anyone check the gym?” “He’s not picking up.” The leader informed the group when the heavy front door opened and closed and Jungkook dragged his feet into the living room. “Where have you been? We were worried about you!” Yoongi, Hoseok, and Namjoon scolded him in unison. “Out.” He mumbled, his eyes were puffy from crying and he wanted nothing more than to hide in his bedroom and don’t see or talk to anyone. “Out?” Namjoon repeated. “You do know that you are not allowed to go out without supervision? We were worried that something happened to you and all you say is ‘out’?” “But it didn’t. I’m fine, nobody saw me.” “Jungkook-ah…” Jimin said softly, he could tell by the look on his face that something wasn’t right. “What did she say?” “Who?” Hobi interrupted but Jimin indicated with his hand for him to stay quiet. “We’re not getting back together…” “You went to see y/n?” Usually, Namjoon always stayed calm but the tension on his face told everyone that he was getting upset at the youngest for breaking the rules when they all needed to be extra careful. “I’m sorry, Jk.” Jin smiled sadly. “It’s okay…if you don’t mind, I wanna be alone for a bit.” “Sure thing.” Jimin reached out and gave his hand a light squeeze. “If you want some company, we’re here for you, okay?” The youngest nodded and disappeared down the hallway to seek comfort in his bedroom. Namjoon scoffed. “I can’t believe, he actually did that…he’s trying really, really hard to get into trouble these days.” “Lay off him! He’s having a hard time right now!” Jin furrowed his eyebrows, letting out an elongated sigh. “Are you serious? He’s doing one reckless thing after the other.” “Maybe it was bound to happen that he acted out…” Yoongi pondered. “I mean, he always had to behave and stay in line…” “He’s not acting out, he just wanted to see her after what happened to her. It’s normal, he’s in love with her.” Jimin defended Jungkook, who wasn’t present to fight for himself. “We should be supportive now. You guys heard that they’re not getting back together. I think he needs us.” “You’re right…” Namjoon gave in, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “He really does need us right now.”  While the others were discussing how they could cheer their little brother up, Taehyung slipped out into the hallway unnoticed; quietly he walked towards Jungkook’s room. Stopping a few times, wanting to turn around but he couldn’t. A part of him was still hurt, his heart aching every time he thought about either one of them but the anger he felt had subsided slowly, at times he felt an overwhelming amount of disappointment flooding his mind but he kept telling himself that it was natural to feel that way after being lied to by two of your best friends. It struck him as odd to feel pity for Jungkook when he had caused all of this trouble in the first place, but he did - seeing his little brother heartbroken wasn’t something he could ignore and he knew that y/n was feeling the same, the urge to comfort her as well rearing its head in the pit of his stomach. Taehyung inhaled, as if to gather up all the courage he could muster and knocked on the door, faintly he heard the youngest mumble a ‘yes’ and he quickly opened and closed the door behind him. Jungkook was lying on his bed, trying to hide the tissue he had used to soak up the tears under his pillow, while Taehyung sat down next to him. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay..” “Oh yeah, I am…” Jungkook didn’t even have to fake a smile; he was genuinely happy that Tae was finally speaking to him again. “You didn’t have to check on me but thank you, hyung!” “I was worried about you…you said, she doesn’t want to get back together?” He shook his head, his eyes drooping in sadness. “She says, she loves me but we can’t be together.” “And why’s that?” Taehyung tilted his head, confused as to why his best friend didn’t want to be with his little brother anymore. “Stupid reasons like she’s holding me back and ruining my career. I think she let those people get into her head.” Jungkook’s eyes shot up when his older brother chuckled. “What’s so funny?” “Ah, Jungkookie…” Tae patted his head. “I don’t know if you know this yet but y/n can be very, very stubborn. She thinks she’s right about something but eventually, she will realize that she’s wrong and I’m pretty sure she will come around.” “How do you kn-?”  “I’ve known her my whole life, remember? It’s her thing, always been like that.”  Jungkook sighed, his lips jutting out into a pout.  “I wish she would hurry up and realize how wrong she is…”  “Don’t worry, it’ll happen sooner than you think.” They fell silent for a moment; it wasn’t uncomfortable this time around. It was like a weight was lifted off their shoulders and they both knew, that they would be able to overcome this hurdle in their friendship. 

“Hyung…” The younger one muttered, piddling at his comforter. “I’m sorry, I lied to you. I should’ve been honest with you from the start. I really hope, you can fully forgive me one day.” “I’m not saying it doesn’t still hurt but I’m not mad anymore…and I’d like that.” Tae smiled shyly when Jimin barged into the room without knocking, stopping in his tracks when his eyes fell on both boys sitting across from each other on the bed. “What is going on?” “We were just talking.” Taehyung assured him. “What’s up?” As soon as he asked, the other members squeezed through the door, piling up in the small space between the door and the bed. “It’s only 10pm, let’s go out to eat and maybe karaoke after!” All the members were nodding enthusiastically behind Jimin. “Do you think that’s a good idea?” Jungkook questioned, not wanting to get into any more trouble. “Yes, we talked to the managers and they said it’s okay if it’s just us. They’re sending a car, so go get dressed.” Jungkook couldn’t help but smile, welcoming the distraction with open arms. “Jungkookie you think of a restaurant where you want to go.” Jin called as he was walking away to his room to get dressed as well. It was almost like nothing ever happened between them, they were cooped up in a small private room at Jungkook’s favorite restaurant, eating and drinking while talking about anything that popped into their heads. Jungkook hated to admit it but he had missed his brothers very much; all the sneaking around and hiding away from them, had involuntarily built a barrier between them and with each laughter that filled the room, he could feel it breaking down. After Jimin had recovered from sliding off his chair from laughing so hard after Hoseok had spilled beer all over Yoongi’s new phone, Jungkook cleared his throat. “So…you’re all not mad at me anymore, right?” Carefully he looked at his older brothers, eyes swimming in tears as he waited for their reply. He knew, he was ruining the mood but the question was eating him up inside - he would’ve hated to find out later that they were all just pretending to make him feel alright for a couple of hours. To his surprise, Namjoon wrapped his arm around his shoulders. “We were never mad at you, just a little disappointed. You’re still a part of us, Jungkook.” Hiding his face in his hands, he let the tears fall freely but he didn’t want his hyungs to see how relieved he was that they still loved and cared about him. “Is he crying?” Jin asked astounded, looking at the others. “I think so…” Yoongi couldn’t tell until Jungkook let out a quiet sob. “Oh Jungkookie, don’t cry!” Hoseok got to his feet, hurrying around the table to give him a hug.  “When you cry, we all cry. Don’t do that!” He softly chuckled, letting his brothers hug him and wipe his tears away, thinking that maybe one day he would be okay as long as they were by his side.

                                          *~~EPILOGUE ~~*

It was a cloudy day, the sun was hiding behind a thick blanket of clouds while she was confined to the car, staring at a row of buildings that all looked the same to her. Deliberately she was pulling at her sweater to make it wider and comfier. “Not long, five more minutes or so.” She nodded, fiddling with the strap of her purse - her nerves getting the better of her. “Aren’t you excited?” “I am…” She replied, trailing off; unsure whether she was actually excited or scared. They had never talked about it, really but she was hoping it would all turn out just fine. Nervously she stepped out of the car, leaning against it to keep a close eye on the door, wishing she would have brought Taehyung or Ha-na for moral support but they were busy visiting locations for the party after the wedding reception. The unusual loud beep of her phone made her flinch when it snapped her out of her thoughts. [Jimin - 2:28pm] Don’t tell Jungkookie about his surprise party later! 🤫 And don’t worry y/n, I know he will be very excited when you tell him 😍 She let out a sigh, it was easier said than done - she had been on edge since last night, only tossing and turning all night. What if he wasn’t happy about it? The others had reassured her a million times by now that it was all going to be fine but now she was contemplating waiting a little longer, maybe even a few months, as ridiculous as it sounded in her head. She was checking her watch yet again, thinking that a minute could easily feel like hours when suddenly a door opened and a few people left the most official-looking building of them all. Her eyes found him, surrounded by the guys in his unit as they were walking towards their families after the ceremony, which she hadn’t been allowed to attend for privacy reasons, but that didn’t matter now. The tingling feeling in her legs, made her impatient and she just couldn’t stand still and wait for him to get to her, so she started running towards him. The moment he spotted her, Jungkook’s face lit up, his stomach was swarming with butterflies as he dropped his bag on the ground, ready to catch her in his arms. “Jungkook-ah, is that your girlfriend?” Minhyuk laughed next to him, nudging him with his elbow, watching as she came running, her skirt blowing in the wind. “Yes.” He said proudly, getting ready to wrap his arms around her for the first time in almost three months. “Looks like she’s really excited to see you, you really should’ve taken a shower this morning.” Junyoung teased him, making the other guys chuckle as they all seemingly waited to watch the reunion. “I saw Jungkookie using perfume before the ceremony, he’ll be fine.” Hyunwoo added, patting his shoulder. “Your teasing is definitely something I won’t miss.” Jungkook winked at them before shifting his focus back to her. He had become good friends with some of the guys in his unit after spending day and night with them - maybe it reminded him of the old days with the other members but it comforted him and made his military service not as bad as he had imagined it before enlisting. His heart was hammering against his ribcage when he picked her up right before she could crash into his chest. His arms securely wrapped around her thighs, he slowly spun around in circles with her. She gently cupped his face, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his lips, only deepening it for a few seconds. Carefully he set her down, her fingers digging into the rough material of his uniform jacket. “Hey.” She smiled shyly, looking up at him. “Hey.” Jungkook gently brushed his fingertips over her cheek, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “I missed you.” “We missed you too…” “We?” He asked; confusion painted all over his face. He had been told that his members would stay at home and they wouldn’t get together until after his little meeting with the press and fans outside the company building. “Yes, we…”  Taking his hand, he could feel hers shaking when she placed it on her stomach. “We missed you a lot.” Jungkook froze; unsure of whether his ears were playing tricks on him or not. His heart was racing again, but this time it was different - a fuzzy feeling rushed through his body as he slowly started to move his hand over her stomach, feeling the small bump that was well hidden underneath the oversized sweater. “Are you serious?” He swallowed hard, trying to stop his eyes from watering. “I am, I went to the doctor a few weeks ago…” She trailed off, suddenly feeling guilty for not having told him sooner. “I’m sorry, I should’ve… I wanted to tell you in person.” “No, no..it’s okay!” He couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that he was going to be a father just yet. “I-I’m happy you told me like this, it was perfect.” He smiled, cupping her face to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “Noona, I love you.” Ever so delicately he kissed her before he sunk to his knees to press his lips to her stomach, an overwhelming feeling of happiness spreading in his chest.

* “Kookie, she woke up again.” Y/n sighed, hearing the faint little cries coming from their bedroom as she put away the last few dishes. “I’ll go check on her.” He put his laptop down on the couch to get up. “No, it’s okay. You’ve had a long day, I’ll do it.” Quickly he crossed the room to stand in front of her. “No, you go sit down and rest. Dasom was asleep when I got home, so this is my chance to spend some time with her.” “Okay fine, but don’t start playing with her again or she will be up for hours.” “I won’t, I promise.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek and quietly made his way to their bedroom, only turning on the small light on the bedside table. “Hey, little one.” Gently he picked her up, sitting down with her on y/n’s side of the bed, drying her cheeks with his sleeve. “What’s wrong?” He could tell from the way she was crying that she wasn’t hungry, y/n had fed her before putting her down and it was too early for her dream feed. “You don’t need to be changed either.” He concluded after checking her diaper. “Wanna tell appa what’s bothering you?” Dasom made a few unidentifiable noises in between yawns, looking at her father with those big brown doe eyes that she could’ve only gotten from him. “Hmm….yeah…” Jungkook nodded his head. “I understand, I missed you too while I was at work…” He trailed off, reminding himself what he had promised y/n but he was so tempted to tickle her, simply to hear her laugh - he really needed to hear it sometimes, especially after a long tiring day of filming. “I promised mommy I wouldn’t keep you up so, how about I tell you a bedtime story instead?” He cradled her in his arm, making sure she was comfortable. “Where did we leave off last night before you fell asleep? Right, you know there was a time when the princess really didn’t want to be with the prince because of what the people in the town were saying; they were really mean to both of them and the princess wanted to protect the prince so she left him heartbroken and to fend for himself. But the prince loved the princess so much that he did everything in his power to show her his love - it took him months of slaying dragons and all the monsters in the far-away land but eventually, she realized that the universe had always wanted them to be together, they weren’t doomed to be star-crossed lovers…” Dasom’s little snores interrupted his recollection of his relationship with her mother, lovingly his index finger followed the perfect slope of her little nose. Without waking her, he put her back in her crib, making sure she was surrounded by all her favorite plushies, all gifts from her uncles; before he gently kissing her forehead. “I love you and mommy so much, I hope you know that, baby girl.” He whispered, slightly pulling on the string of the little moon above her bed that played the melody of Euphoria. 

[jabbajambler]

30

Human

The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x f!OC

Word Count: 2,039

*GIF by @strwrsdaily​*

         "So is it like an official relationship? Are you just weird friends?" She stopped and slapped my arm. I knew it was playful, but damn it stung. "Are you two fooling around?"

         "Cara..." Din scolded from the pilot's seat. I think we were both genuinely surprised that he was the one to speak up. I'm glad he did though, I wasn't sure what to say. We hadn't really talked about it.

         She sat back and chuckled, proud of herself for being able to get under his skin. "Does your contact need to vet me?"

         Din messed with the controls, preparing the skip. "Doesn't know you're coming."

         "Really?" She scoffed. "That could be a problem."

         "It won't." He declared and spun around. "But if it is, that's his problem."

         He brushed past us and began his descent into the belly of the ship. Cara looked to me with a shrug and we both followed after him. Despite being able to literally get into people's minds, I never truly knew what was going on in his.

         "He alright up there alone-" She stopped herself and gazed in awe at his collection of weaponry.

         "Yeah." He answered, almost unsure. "Pick one."

         She began messing with the weapons while Din and I stood against the wall, his hand twitching to reach for mine. Every subtle movement from him kept me anticipating the next time he would take off that helmet. But maybe it was for the best that he kept it on.

         "You trust the contact?" Cara asked as she reached for a small gun.

         "Not particularly. He and I had a run-in last time I was there on some Guild business." Din explained. I suppose that was the nice way of explaining what happened.

         "So then why are we going?" Cara grabbed another gun, this one much larger than the others. I could already tell that one fit her more. She always was favorable of dramatics.

         "We don't have much of a choice. You remember what happened on Sorgan, they'll just keep coming." I explained. I hated the plan, but I supported what it meant. Keeping that kid safe was my main priority.

         I could see Din look at me out of the corner of my eye. To avoid any suggestive looks from Cara, he simply squeezed my shoulder and continued for me. "The kid will never be safe until the Imp is dead."

         "And you're okay with bringing him back there?"

         "Not really." Din fidgeted in his spot, both of us watching as Cara aimed the gun. "That's why I'm bringing you."

         The ship shook and rumbled, tossing us around. We managed to navigate our way back up to the cockpit to find the child sitting on the panel, messing with the steering shift.

         Din grunted as he was tossed against the wall while Cara almost fell back down the ladder. I scooped the child up in my arms and pulled it away from anything that might get us killed while Din redirected the ship and put it back on it's path.

         "We need someone to watch that thing." Cara spoke as she tried to catch her breath.

         Din scoffed. "Yeah."

         "You got anyone you can trust?"

         "We do." I smiled at Din and it felt like he could read my mind.

         Cara looked between us, confused and a bit lost.

         "You guys are going to have to explain whatever is going on between you two because it's starting to creep me out."

┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉┉

         We landed not too far from the Ugnaught's home, hoping the stay wouldn't be too long. No words needed to be said when we approached him. He simply welcomed us into his home without a second thought. I'm sure our expressions were dead giveaways of the situation we were in.

         We settled down on his small, but comfortable seats. I missed his quaint home. It was small, yes, but it was welcoming and warm, something we didn't see a lot of these days. Well, besides Coruscant, of course. The Razor Crest wasn't necessarily the homiest of places.

         He examined what he once knew as our bounty, squatting just enough to match its height. "It hasn't grown much."

         "I think it might be a Strand-Cast." Din proposed and settled down on the seat next to mine.

         "I don't think it was engineered. I've worked in the gene farms. This one looks evolved... Too ugly. This one, on the other hand," he said as he gestured towards Cara, "looks like she was farmed in the Cytocaves of Nora."

         "This is Cara Dune." Din nodded towards the built woman. "She was a shock trooper."

         "You were a Dropper?"

         Cara glanced down to her stripes and then back at the short man. "Did you serve?"

         "On the other side, I'm afraid." He grunted as he sat down across from us. "But I'm proud to say that I paid out my clan's debt and now I serve no one but myself."

         I had forgotten that he served the Empire. The reminder of the horrid group sent a shiver down my spine. Soon enough, we'd be seeing whole flanks of storm troopers, I was sure. Who knew if I would even make it past the entrance without a shot between my eyes.

         There was a quiet robotic hiss and a slim shadow suddenly filled the doorway. I immediately recognized the IG-11 unit and snapped my blaster in its direction with Din and Cara quickly following suit.

         "Would anyone care for some tea?" It asked calmly, unfazed by the guns directed towards it.

         "Please lower your blasters." The Ugnaught pleaded. "He will not harm you.

         I scoffed. "As if. It was programmed to kill the child."

         "Not anymore." He said as the IG unit placed down the tray of drinks.

         He went on to tell us how he recovered the droid and new programming that he had created himself. I trusted him, truly I did, but Din still seemed on edge. I could understand his hatred for the thing, but if the Ugnaught was sure that it was safe, then I believed him.

         I only wished Din could see it that way as well. However, I understood his coldness towards them.

         "Is it still a hunter?" He asked.

         "No." The Ugnaught answered confidently. "But it will protect."

         Din stared at the droid as it sat there motionless. The tension in the air was incredibly thick. I felt like I was choking on the silence that weighed over us.

         "Tea?" The droid asked calmly.

         Din sighed while Cara happily took the warm beverage. Honestly, a cup of tea didn't sound too bad right now.

         The Ugnaught left, off to finish his duties that we had interrupted him from earlier. He worked so hard for the free life he had, who were we to rip him from it? It was selfish to say that we needed him, but we did.

         I stood from my seat to follow him out the door. We needed to get him to agree to this and no one else seemed to have a plan.

         Din's hand loosely gripped my arm and pulled me back. "Where are you going?" He asked quietly

         "There's only so many places I can go. I'm just going to talk to him, try to convince him to come with us." I turned to face him with a reassuring smile.

         "Let me go with you." He insisted, pulling me closer to him.

         Cara looked at us with raised eyebrows, peacefully sipping her tea.

         "I can handle it myself, you know. I didn't always have you around to protect me." I sent him a wink and grabbed his hand, placing a soft kiss to his palm, making Cara sputter and choke on her drink. "I'll be back soon."

         He reluctantly let me go and I quickly caught up with the Ugnaught. He stood by the fence, happily feeding his blurrgs while the sun set in the distance. I missed these beautiful skies.

         "We need your help." I spoke softly as I approached him, my voice wavering with nerves.

         "I figured as much. Why else would you return?" He sighed and stepped back from the animal, placing his hands on his hips.

         "You're a very trustworthy person, Ugnaught. Din is a rather proud person, he won't go to just anyone for help."

         "I have a name." He snapped, but quickly calmed himself. "Kuill."

         "Kuill, we need someone to help guard the child. He's curious and daring-"

         He hummed. "I'm not suited for such work. I can reprogram IG-11 for nursing and protocol."

         "No." I paused and quickly recollected my thoughts. "Din doesn't trust the droid, you know that he'll never allow that."

         "Why is he so distrustful of droids?"

         "I don't think it's my place to say..." I glanced down at the sand beneath our feet, watching as it swirled with the wind. "But that droid tried to kill the baby."

         "It was programmed to do so." He argued. "Droids are not good or bad. They are neutral reflections of those who imprint them."

         I sighed and ran my fingers through my tangled strands of hair. I knew he was right, but convincing Din would be a completely different story.

         "Please." The word came out hoarse and pained, a desperate plea for help.

         He sighed. "IG-11 will join me and we do it not for payment, but to protect the child from Imperial slavery. None will be free until the old ways are gone forever... Something tells me you know what I speak of."

         I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat. "I do."

         "The blurrgs will join me as well. I have spoken." He finished, passing Din as he entered the house.

         Din slowly approached me. Alone, thank goodness. I wasn't needing any more comments from Cara right now, especially after her last reaction.

        "So?" He spoke calmly as he approached me. He stood tall, his shoulders stretched and his back straight. Every step he took was confident and proud, I admired that.

         "He'll join us." I smiled as my eyes trailed down to his gloved hands. My fingers brushed over the soft, worn leather before grasping his hands in my own. "But the droid is coming with... And the blurrgs too."

         "The blurrgs?"

         I snorted and nodded. "Yes, but I suppose they have some use."

         He intertwined my fingers with his and took a small step towards me, standing so close that the toes of our shoes touched. I enjoyed his closeness, but the closer he got, the louder the voice became. It told me to pull away but staring into the abyss of his helmet, I couldn't.

         "It'll get better. We'll take out the Imps and then we can find another place." He rested his cool, beskar coated head against mine. I could hear his breathing start to slow as he relaxed.

         "No more running?"

         "No more running. I promise." His hands gave mine a gentle squeeze. "Just this."

         I tensed at his words, barely comprehending the thoughts that moved around in my head. All I could feel, all I could see was a blur. What was holding me back from sticking by his side for the rest of my life? What unfinished business did I have left?

         We wanted the same thing, didn't we? For this. No running, just peace with the two of us and the little child. Yet my mind told me that I have been set on a separate mission. What it was, I didn't know. But I'd be damned if I let it beat me.

         "We should get back to the ship." I stepped back and offered him a small grin.

         Things were so incredibly unclear. Our relationship had changed on Coruscant and there was no taking that back. Now, I suppose, wasn't the best time to talk about it. There were more important things on my mind and we could cross that rickety bridge when we came to it.

         Still, I cared for him. More than I'd like to admit. Maybe that would be my downfall.

[pandastern]

Gravity (Bakugou x OC)

Part 12: Heart to Heart

If youd like to be tagged to the taglist for upcoming parts please dm me :)

Masterlist  II  AO3

Bakugou x Vigilante!OC

Warnings: angst, explicit language, violence

Word count:   2080

Genre: enemies to lovers ; angst ; romance, slow burn

When a new student makes an entrance, Bakugou has a real bad feeling. There is something about this girl that just doesnt feel right. From the flaming hair to the calculating glint in her green eyes, everything about her just pisses him off.

Little does he know that his fate is intertwined with the person he despises so much, defining his future path in a way he would have never expected

When Aizawa opened the infirmary door, the scent of nitroglycerin hit him like a wall. Taking in the room before him, he noticed two things. Firstly, Artemis was sitting hunched over on the bed, holding her red face in her hands and shaking. Secondly, Bakugou was standing in the corner of the room furthest away from her, stubbornly facing the wall. The overpowering scent of the explosive compound was proof that the young man was sweating buckets.

That was suspicious. Aizawa was used to seeing the two at one another’s throats, but finding them in this state made him suspect that they didn’t hate each other as much as they led on. At least, not anymore.

Teenagers…

“Oh, dear, you don't look so good.” Recovery Girl's voice cut through the room as she rushed towards the shaking Artemis and pressed a small hand to her forehead. “Hm… It doesn’t seem to be a fever, but your heart rate is elevated-”

“I’m fine!” Artemis huffed stubbornly, though the slight tremble in her voice didn’t go unnoticed by Aizawa. 

While that was going on, Bakugou had slowly moved towards the door, probably hoping to remain unseen. Aizawa couldn’t recall a time he’d seen the young man so flustered. The tips of his ears were almost as red as Artemis’s hair.

He sighed and shook his head, deciding to give Bakugou his wish and pretend he hadn’t seen him. Given his explosive temperament, it was probably a better option for everyone involved.

When Bakugou had left, Aizawa shifted his attention back to his newest problem child. He pulled up a chair as best as he could with only one working arm and waited until Recovery Girl had finished patching her up.

“There, that should do it,” the old lady huffed, stepping back.

Now that her treatment was over, Aizawa cleared his throat and asked, “Could I have a moment alone with my student?” His eyes focused on Artemis.

Recovery Girl sighed deeply, but agreed and left through the door. For a few moments, silence fell upon the room as Aizawa sized up the girl in front of him.

Artemis shifted uncomfortably. As usual, he picked up the distrust in her body language, like an animal in a cage, ready to defend itself.

“Miss Moon, what were the conditions that I gave you for taking part in the Sports Festival?” Aizawa asked slowly.

Artemis took a deep breath, her face shifting into an unreadable mask. “You said I was fine to compete as long as I was healthy enough.”

“Then, explain to me why I’m sitting in the Nurse's Office with you after just one round.”

She ground her teeth. “I was fine. I am fine! I don't understand why everyone is making such a fuss.” Despite the conviction in her words, she avoided Aizawa’s eyes.

“Do I really have to explain to you how stupid, irresponsible and reckless your actions were?” asked Aizawa. “As a hero, citizens will depend on you and your abilities, not to mention your teammates. If you can’t admit that you’re not up to a job, you not only endanger yourself, but the people around you.”

With every scolding word, he began to see steel walls rise up between him and his student. A vault with a hundred metal doors. That's what Aizawa could see in Artemis Moon. He’d taken on students with difficult backgrounds before. This one, however, left him puzzled. An unfathomable anger burned deep in her green eyes, though what it was directed towards, exactly, he couldn’t say.

“What does it matter?” she snapped. “In the USJ, I got the job done before the teachers showed up, didn’t I? I would have gotten the job done here, as well! I’m not so weak that I need to be sheltered and babied. Trust me when I say I’ve been through worse.” She got up suddenly. “As long as the objective is cleared and the mission is a success, it doesn't matter what happens to me. Besides, are you really in a position to lecture me at this point, Mr Mummy Man?”

Aizawa sighed inwardly. While he didn’t appreciate being insulted, he also knew that there was no point getting through to her when she was like this. Most other students would have listened to him, but the pure stubborness in this girl acted like a shield between her and his words.

He still hadn’t forgotten what Artemis had said on the bus ride to the USJ. The mindset she’d displayed had been downright concerning for someone so young. What had surprised Aizawa was how she’d acted during the attack itself. He’d read the report of her behaviour carefully several times, and it had left him wondering.

Taking a deep breath, he decided on a different approach. “Answer me one question, then, Artemis. Why are you here?”

That seemed to catch her off guard. “What?” she asked, brows furrowing as if he’d asked her why the sky was blue.

“Why do you want to be a hero?”

Another silence fell between teacher and student. Aizawa watched as Artemis mulled over his words, trying to come up with an answer. Not once did she let her eyes drift from him. She watched his every move, as though she still considered him some kind of threat.

After pacing up and down the room several times, she sat down again.

“I don't,” she said finally. “I don't want to be a hero. Not that I would be any good at it, anyway.”

“Then why did you come to UA?”

“There's… something I must do that’s only possible with a Hero License.”

Aizawa would be lying to himself if he said he hadn’t been expecting an answer like that. The disdain for hero society was apparent in her demeanour.

“All right,” he said. “Let me put it in words you might understand more easily. Your injuries were so serious that you could have damaged your body permanently. You came very close to ending any potential career before it had even begun. Don’t you see that? If Bakugou hadn’t stopped you, everything you’ve planned for in life would go to waste. You’d be absolutely useless.”

He knew his words sounded harsh, even hurtful. Wake-up calls generally weren’t something he enjoyed dishing out, though considering Artemis’s reaction, he’d hit his target.

“You’re old enough to understand that if you’re not capable of keeping yourself alive, you’re not capable of helping anyone,” Aizawa continued. “I don't know what plans you have with your life and I won't pry, but you will not be able to achieve them the way you’re going right now.”

Artemis felt like she’d been slapped in the face. Aizawa gave her a couple of moments to let his words sink in.

“So, what… You’re saying I’m… incapable?” she whispered in a shaky voice.

“No. If I deemed you incapable, I would have expelled you already.” Aizawa’s voice fell to a softer tone. “In fact, I see great potential in you. You said you wouldn’t be a good hero, yet when the life of your classmates were in danger, you did everything you could to save them. You put their needs first. If you ask me, that's exactly what a hero should do. All I ask is that you take your own health more seriously. I don’t want to see a potentially great hero retire before her time.”

“You think… I could be a good hero?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. Now, go get to the showers and join your classmates on the tribunes. I have to get back to Present Mic.”

With that, Aizawa left Artemis to her thoughts. There were many more things he’d wanted to say, and he knew that eventually, he’d have no choice but to tell them to her. However, if gauging her reaction had told him one thing, it was that he had to tread delicately around this subject. One step too far, and she would run, and given the things Aizawa had heard and witnessed from her, he couldn’t afford to have her block him out completely. Not when he believed that he might be able to help her.

--

Artemis stood in the showers and let the hot water run down her skin. Her muscles and head ached, but the sensation of the water was enough to keep her spinning thoughts grounded.

Aizawas words still echoed in her mind. She, a hero? Yeah, right. Even if she had the potential for it, she’d never want to be one. Heroes were glorified to the point of corruption. She’d experienced that first hand. A mental image of her father popped up in her mind and she gritted her teeth. 

“I will not be like you,” she hissed.

After washing off the thin layer of grime and sweat the first round had left her with, Artemis slipped into a new set of PE clothes and made her way through the halls of the stadium towards the tribunes.

She hoped to God that Bakugou would be too busy with the competition itself to interact with her again. Artemis still didn't quite know what had come over her when she’d kissed him. Her stomach lurched strangely whenever she thought about it. Not once in her life had she felt like this before. Maybe she really was getting sick.

Artemis decided to avoid the explosive boy for now and investigate this strange feeling later. Her head was still spinning from the conversation with Aizawa, and the painkillers Recovery Girl had given her, while dulling her pain a little, had made her feel woozy. Now that the tension of the festival had subsided, the exhaustion of her own body really was free to take over.

She turned a corner, pondering whether one last can of energy drink would be enough to get her through the day, when she suddenly heard a deep, enthusiastic voice pipe up ahead of her.

“Endeavor! It’s been a while, old friend.”

Artemis recognised All Might’s voice at once, though it was his words that made her frown. Endeavor? What were the country’s two top heroes doing here instead of watching the spectacle?

“Don’t act like we’re friends. I have nothing to say to you, All Might.” Endeavor’s tone was as cold as ice.

All Might barked out a laugh. “Oh, come now. Your son is one of my students! He's doing well. How about we have a little chat?”

“Of course he’s doing well. It’s what’s expected of him.”

Endeavor’s voice sent shivers down Artemis’s spine. She knew she shouldn't eavesdrop on her teacher, but for some reason, her feet just wouldn’t move. If she remembered right, then Endeavor's son was Shoto Todoroki, the boy with the half hot half cold quirk. Artemis had only seen him in action a few times in practice, but even from her limited observations, she could tell that he was strong. Not the most friendly kid she'd ever met, though.

“How about you give me a tip on how to raise the next generations of heroes,” said All Might. “You know, since you have the experience.”

Artemis couldn't tell if All Might was just dense and unable to sense the menace in Endeavor’s attitude, or if he was just blatantly ignoring it.

“And why would I do that? You’d better watch your back, All Might. The boy is my masterpiece! He will surpass you and beat you into the ground. After all, that’s the reason why I created him-”

Artemis’s ears started ringing. She’d had heard this kind of talk before. 

You are my masterpiece. My greatest creation! You will pave the way for my glory.

Her stomach dropped, and for a moment, she felt as if someone had knocked the wind out of her. How many times had her father said these exact words to her before making her do something horrifying?

Rage bubbled up in her gut. Endeavor didn’t even seem to feel ashamed for what he had just so openly admitted to the Symbol of Peace, and Artemis found herself wondering what Shoto Todoroki had lived through if the man that spoke exactly like her own father called him son.

Finally forcing herself to move, she turned on her heels and ran. 

Artemis had been aware that hero society was anything but heroic, but never had she imagined that the number two hero himself could be just as monstrous as the man that had created her.

Tagg list:   

 @sammyluvzz​ @chicledechoclo

[musical-shit-show]

Two Sides: Chapter 2

Previous Chapter: (1)

Characters: Musical!Beetlejuice, Female!OC, Lydia Deetz, Barbara Maitland, Adam Maitland

Warnings: swearing, anxiety/mild panic attack, supernatural stuff, strange dreams (?)

Word Count: 1432

Author’s Note: Okay I’m not sure if anyone is reading this, but sorry about the wait on Chapter 2! I have been swamped with work this past week and don’t have a lot of time to edit chapters without my roommate getting sus. Plus ya girl stares at a laptop from 9 to 5 every day (yay pandemic) so it takes a toll on my eyes. 

Anyways, this is basically another set up chapter, but it does get a little wild as the two girls show up to the Deetz/Maitland house. If you like this story so far, please like and/or reblog! Also if you have any words of wisdom for writing or just wanna chat, my ask box is open! I mentioned that I would be doing asks and putting up a prompt list, and I’ll hopefully get around to doing that this weekend, I’m just a procrastinator. 

Okay I’ll stop rambling. Here’s Chapter 2!

Chapter 2

Cassandra was awoken from her hazy slumber with a jolt of a car brake. “We’re here!” Lydia exclaimed gleefully, dropping her usual mellow persona.

Cassandra blinked purposefully, strange images from a dream flashing in her vision. Stripes, vibrant green, a snakelike creature…the pictures in her mind made her feel uneasy, but she brushed them aside as she unloaded her small duffle bag from the backseat of Lydia’s car.

The house looked normal enough. Large, white and Victorian-era, it sat atop a comically round hill, looking picturesque against the rural landscape. Lydia bolted in front of her roommate, the small black suitcase she had brought rattling against the gravel driveway. Cassandra giggled to herself. She hadn’t seen Lydia this excited in a long while. As the girls made their way up the steep hill, movement on the second floor caught Cassandra’s eye. No figure was visible, but the brown-haired girl did notice the flutter of the white drapes that framed the window as they inched closer to the house. Cassandra stared up for a few more seconds before shaking her head following Lydia up the rest of the driveway.

“I can’t wait for you to meet them!” she called, Cassandra several steps behind her. Lydia’s father, Charles, and stepmother, Delia, would not be keeping the girls’ company on this particular visit. Charles was a real-estate mogul, and Delia was a life coach giving motivational speeches across the country. The only people in the house this weekend were Lydia’s aunt and uncle, both of whom Cassandra knew nothing about.

Despite her unusual dream, Cassandra tried to match Lydia’s enthusiasm. “Yeah, from what you’ve told me about them, they sound awesome!” The girls reached the door, and for a brief moment, Lydia hesitated, her hand stiff on the doorknob. Cassandra furrowed her brow slightly.

Though Lydia had been excited about finally introducing Cassandra to her ‘aunt and uncle’, she had grown more uneasy the closer they got to the house. What if she had a total meltdown? Sure, Cassandra had a passive interest in the supernatural, but not to the level Lydia had when she was younger; her roommate was far more normal, which could lead to a bit of scene when she found out the truth.

“Cassie, there’s something I need to tell you before you meet Adam and Babs,” Lydia started, “They’re well…they’re different. But you need to promise that you won’t be mad at me or freak out.” Cassandra grew worried at Lydia’s words, her heartbeat increasing rapidly as a small panic set in. How could they possibly be weird by Lydia’s standards? Were they nudists? Swingers? Republicans?

“Lyds, don’t worry,” Cassandra replied, doing her best to ease herself and her best friend, “I’m sure whatever it is, I’ll be fine. They’re your family and I want to get to know them.” With a knowing shrug, Lydia opened the creaky front door. She had a feeling this wasn’t going to end well, but it was time to let the chips fall where they may.

Lydia wanted to tell Cassandra before this point, she really did. But how do you casually mention to your roommate that you used to live with two ghosts? Lydia wasn’t very trusting with people, especially when it came to Adam and Barbara. She had grown to love Cassandra like a sister, but the longer she waited, the more awkward it would’ve become to explain. By Lydia’s twisted logic, it was best to just show her best friend the craziness she was getting herself into.

“Babs! Adam!” Lydia called, straightening her suitcase to face upright, “I’m home!” Cassandra felt a chill wrack through her entire body, though there wasn’t a single gust of wind coming from outside of the house. Suddenly, two figures appeared out of thin air. Cassandra’s blood turned ice cold. ‘Did they just fucking materialize out of nowhere?’ she thought, feeling a bead of sweat forming on her brow, ‘Am I losing my goddamn mind?’

The couple that stood before them looked ordinary enough, apart from the fact that they clearly possessed some kind of supernatural powers. Barbara was blonde, doe-eyed and was grinning ear-to-ear. Her husband, Adam, only stood a few inches higher than her, and had square-framed glasses perched atop his light brown hair. They greeted Lydia with excited squeals, enveloping her in a warm, three-person hug. They looked like they’d fit perfectly on the cover of Country Living magazine or in line at a Trader Joe’s checkout. 

Cassandra was gripping the strap of her duffle bag tightly, a wave of nausea and confusion crashing over her. Her brain was firing rapidly as she attempted to sus out how these two seemingly normal people just magically appeared.

“Oh Lydia, we’re so glad to see you!” Adam said, the timbre of his voice warm and slightly nasally. He wrapped the smaller girl in a bear hug, lifting her a few inches off of the ground. Though Lydia was preoccupied trying to gauge Cassandra’s reaction, she embraced Adam, smiling slightly.

“It’s been way too long,” Barbara added as Adam deposited Lydia back onto the floor. Barbara turned to finally notice Cassandra, who was seconds away from a panic attack. The older woman, completely oblivious, beamed at the other girl, “Oh, and this must be your roommate!” She went in for a hug, but stopped in her tracks when she saw Cassandra’s strained expression.

“Lydia, what’s going on?” she said quietly, “Does your family typically….uh, teleport from one place to another?” Barbara and Adam looked at each other, confused expressions painted across their faces.

“I knew this would happen,” Lydia said under her breath, cursing herself for not telling her roommate sooner. She collected herself, running a hand through her short black bob, “Okay, Cassie…Barbara and Adam aren’t my aunt and uncle. They lived in this house before my dad and I moved in when I was in high school. They, well, they died here. They’re ghosts, technically speaking.”  Adam and Barbara shifted uncomfortably.

The supernatural was not a subject that was completely foreign to Cassandra. She had always had a slight interest in the macabre, she just had no idea that her best friend and roommate’s life was intertwined with ghosts. Actual ghosts.

“You didn’t tell her?!” Adam said, bewildered. He folded his arms across his chest, clearly disappointed in Lydia. Barbara touched his shoulder, trying to ease her husband’s frustration.

“She wouldn’t have believed me!” Lydia defended, “I had to show her for myself.” Lydia and Adam bickered back and forth before all three turned to Cassandra, who hadn’t spoken a word in a few minutes. Finally, she collected herself, the others waiting with baited breath at her response to all of the madness.

“I’m not angry,” she stated plainly, doing her best to steady her breathing, “This is actually, uh, really fucking cool.” Lydia’s eyes brightened at her roommate’s words. She knew if anyone would understand her and her family, it was Cassie. “But,” she continued, “I need time to process the whole ‘ghosts are real and are also best friends with my roommate’ thing. So, is it alright if I go upstairs and we can talk more about this later?”

“Of course,” Adam replied apologetically, “We’re sorry. Had Lydia told us—” he shot a glare at her, “—that you didn’t know we were, uh, dead, we would’ve tried to appear more…normal.”

“It’s, it’s fine,” Cassandra said, wiping the sweat from her hands nervously on her jeans, “Lydia’s right, I was gonna find out eventually. Why not rip the Band-Aid off, huh?” Barbara smiled. She and Adam were quickly taking a liking to Cassie. She was funny and understanding, especially considering the circumstances. Cassie climbed the steps, her suitcase bumping into the back of her legs.

Lydia smiled at the Maitlands as Cassandra disappeared to the second floor. “I’m sorry, I tried to think of a plan and I should’ve called and—” Barbara shushed the young woman, placing a hand lovingly on her shoulder.

“We understand,” Barbara said knowingly, “But, Lydia, did you tell her about…you know…? Lydia furrowed her brow and let out a frustrated sigh. She knew this conversation would be coming her way. She knew he would come up eventually.

“No, and I don’t intend to,” Lydia stated firmly, “He should be far away from this house, at least for this weekend. We just need to make it three days, and then I’ll tell Cass. I promise.”

‘Oh, Lyds’ Beetlejuice thought, grinning as he hid in a dark corner of the house, ‘I love it when you’re wrong.’

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Ooooh it’s finally bug man time!!! Hope you enjoyed this chapter (if anyone is reading lol). Like and reblog if you can! Thanks :)

[ajbrooks-writes]

WIP Re-Intro: For The Crown

Book One of the Blood Ties trilogy

Heyo! Exactly what it says on the tin. A new and improved For The Crown with special edition features and up-to-date info! Also now with an official trilogy title: Blood Ties. Incredibly accurate.

Book One: For The Crown

Two young shapeshifters uncover generations of blood crimes as they attempt to change their own destiny. Masquerading amidst power plays and fickle allys, the prince and the pretender learn the meaning of family in a tale of love, loss, and the cost of challenging the stars.

Elthian and Ryvaeryn are from very different worlds, tied together by a bloody past. They are each given a single chance to attain their goals, but to do so must navigate a court full of lies, a country full of secrets, and a foe determined to keep both in the past.

Basics

Stage: Complete Structural Overhaul Review

Estimated Length: 135k

Genre: New Adult high fantasy

Themes: found family, adventure, self-discovery, romance, challenging status quo, challenging destiny.

More info

Orphaned as an infant and raised by humans on the continent, Ryn has never known another shapeshifter. A bookbinder by trade, she masquerades as a scholar and runs to the island country of Mantha, where she meets our team, and her resolve is tested when she is discovered and has a choice: go home to safety or join the court and risk it all.

Growing up in the castle with his father, brother and best friend, Elthian has known he would be king since he was a child. A planner by passion, Elthian’s progressive ideas clash with his father’s traditional values, placing them increasingly at odds. When his father threatens to change his successor, Elthian must choose between sacrificing the crown for his values and work, or sacrificing his values for the crown and power.

Ryvaeryn and Elthian’s journeys intertwine as they work towards their goals. Among the trials of their individual paths, they realise their growing friendship might be more than that. Now they must weigh their loyalties and, when discovered, understand that one false step could tear them apart forever.

Read on to learn about some of the characters and the next two books! Also cool graphics.

Welcome to part two!

Characters

Protagonist. Age 29, lion shapeshifter. Idealistic, compassionate, creative, naive. Elthian has a rocky past, but has landed on his feet with a father he idolises, an older half-brother he loves unconditionally, and a best friend he could not do without. His brother’s protection has left him naive to their father’s nature, but kept him from losing that idealism and compassion their father is so blatantly missing. Elthian’s biggest struggle is his own self-doubt, but his brother’s line “There are some things in this world you just can’t change.” kickstarts his determination to do exactly that. I love my son, but not make it easy.

Protagonist. Age 26, tiger shapeshifter. Impulsive, defensive, determined, kind. Safe in seclusion with her long term girlfriend, Ryn gives it up to journey to Mantha and find others like her. She is quick to defend herself and slow to reason, and so desperately wants to know who she is and where she came from that she will risk everything to find answers. This is made difficult when she becomes to target of assassination. See her right eye pictures above? That may or may not emerge intact . I love her, and I forge her fortitude in fire.

Secondary. Age 30, wolf shapeshifter. Quiet, perceptive, loyal. Joal spent half his childhood as a crown ward, becoming Elthian’s best and most loyal friend. His official role is Royal Historian and Heritage Law Consultant, and he lives at the castle. He is the first to realise Ryn isn’t a scholar. Joal isn’t ‘in touch’ with his emotions, which quickly creates a rift between him and Ryn. Joal has the largest role in Blood Ties after Ryn and Elthian.

Secondary. Age 32, human. Optimistic, intuitive, honourable. Kalen is the ultimate best friend. He is a great hugger, great listener, and gentle soul. He left the army  to pursue music, specifically the flute. Kalen is aro-ace, and his and Skye’s QPR is the most precious and pure dynamic I have ever seen. He becomes close friends with Ryn, we call him K, and I would die for him.

Tertiary. Age 35, lion shapeshifter. Discerning, protective, adventurous. Orrian paints himself as rebellious and unreliable, allowing him to pursue his interests in peace, and as a bonus giving his father frequent headaches. Orrian runs a shelter for homeless or orphaned boys and young men, mostly shapeshifters, and basically has a dozen adopted sons. He is also investigating his father, whom he loathes. Orrian has a much larger role in the next two books.

Tertiary. Age 21, crane shapeshifter. Shy, observant, attentive. Skye is very close with Kalen, and Ryn first meets her in a courtyard where Skye is playing violin. She struggles with anxiety and  PTSD, and attempts to create a support network in this book, which unfortunately backfires. Skye’s role will change a lot over the trilogy as she develops and grows and discovers her strength.

Tertiary. Age 24. human. Sarcastic, charming, realist. Corri meets Ryn early in town, and they become friends quickly. She loves to have a good time, and encourages Ryn to do the same. If the cellars are stocked, right? Corri has a brief, secret fling with Joal in this book. She also frequently makes time to spend with the children at the castle - much better company than nobles.

Tertiary. Age 64, lion shapeshifter. Assertive, determined, commanding. Parthian rules with iron, currently with his third wife. He pushed Orrian to abdicate, and has spent the last decades grooming Elthian to be a more worthy successor. Parthian is struggling under the weight of (subjectively) poor past choices. His sons take more from him than they’d like.

Side. Age 34, human. Calming, authentic, passionate. Lowe and Ryn were together for three years, and lived together for most of that. She knows Ryn’s aspirations, fears and hopes and supports her move to Mantha. Lowe will have a larger role in the next two books, but will crop up a few times in this one, too.

Side. Age 9, shapeshifter. Shy, curious, adventurous. Pab is an orphan, and has lived at the castle her entire life. She is friends with Corri, and becomes a loyal friend of Ryn’s after a vandalism mishap. Pab will climb literally anything. She scales two storeys of old stone to break into Ryn’s room. Ryn and Pab’s bond strengthens over the trilogy, and we learn more about her family later on.

--

The World:

For The Crown takes place primarily in Mantha, an island country about the size of France. It has several smaller ilsands scattered around it., and across a strait is a mainland spanning an area close to that of Russia, which is where Ryn is from. Skye and Joal are from the North and South islands around Mantha respectively..During this book, the court travels around the country to various estates, under the guise of a ‘royal tour’, in which Parthian speaks to the leaders and the people and try to assure them that the monarchy has their best interest’s at heart. It gives Elthian the opportunity to find the progressive among them, and Ryn the opprtunity to explore different libraries and estates, including a ruined city, searching for answers.

Mantha is a feudal society originally settled by shapeshifters, which Parthian encourages, because they are easier to control. The continent, all humans, is meanwhile approaching an early industrial age; they have a direct democracy, with all the people having a voice. Mantha works with alchemy, whereas the continent works with technology. They have minimal overlap, but for trade and transport, things like air travel crosses their cultures.

This means I can have steampunk airships flying over my feudal farmland. The dream.

If you would like to know anything else about their culture, feel free to shoot an ask my way!

Rest of the trilogy:

For The King

After the bittersweet end to For The Crown, Ryn and Elthian try to recover the trust of the Manthan people as Elthian begins a shaky rule. But when the new king is kidnapped, it’s up to Ryn, Orrian, Kalen and Joal to race across the continent to save him, finding help from old friends along the way. Meanwhile, in a deep underground prison, Elthian meets new allies and foes as his captors attempt to break him, and he plans a daring escape or three. For The King is significantly darker, and ready to be drafted. You can read this wip intro here.

For The Country

Following a narrow escape, Ryn, Elthian, their new allies and remaining friends journey back to Mantha only to discover it has been overrun! With Elthian’s confidence shattered and Ryn struggling to stay afloat, For The Country has them and their team racing to rally their people against an approaching enemy while they battle fire, uprising, discord and disease. In the conclusion of this epic fantasy, everyone comes together for the battle that will decide Mantha’s future.

Final comments:

Can’t believe I managed, finally, to finish this intro.

I’m going to try and participate more in wip and OC related things, and post more about my story when life allows. I hope you enjoyed it, congrats on getting to the end, and have a great day!

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For The Crown tag list:

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[knives-out20]

Magnetic Pull - Erik Lehnsherr x Male!OC - Part 13

Fandom: X-Men: First Class (2011)

Pairing: Karmel Rosenstein (OC) x Erik Lehnsherr

Warnings: Spoilers for X-Men: First Class, Swearing, Repressed homosexuality,

Notes: Three rich scenes for the price of one!

Erik, Karmel, Raven, and Alex hung out of a window of the X-Mansion, Charles and Hank fixing wings onto Sean's outfit in the next room.

"And you're sure that this will work?" Sean asked.

"Anything is possible. I based the design-"

"Hank, stop talking. Come on" Charles cut Hank off, patting Sean and leading them over to the window.

Karmel gulped, the close contact with Erik not quite bothering him anymore, as it did pleasure him now. He liked it. Karmel flipped a hand up like he flipped an invisible light switch, vines growing out the ground under Sean's window. He watched the vines loop and intertwine into each other, forming a net.

"Did Charles tell you to do that?" He heard Erik ask. Erik saw Karmel's sleeve fall back, revealing the leather bracelet he gifted him."You kept the bracelet."

Karmel shook his head."Nah- figured a vine net would be a better landing than the actual grass itself" he turned to Erik, shrugging innocently."Also, uh, yea- I really, really like it, Erik. Shit goes with everything I own."

Erik breathed a smile onto his lips, clasping his hands together."Awful thoughtful of you."

Karmel smiled shyly."I guess" he mumbled, looking back over towards the window.

"Now, remember Sean, scream as hard as you can" Charles reminded, as Hank and him held Sean on the window sill."If all goes wrong, that net- that I'm assuming Karmel crafted- will catch you."

"You need the sound waves to be supersonic. Catch them at the right angle, and they should carry you" Hank added.

"'They should carry me'" Sean softly repeated, in a mocking tone."That's reassuring."

"Good luck" Charles whispered, Hank and him pulling out from the window."And don't forget to scream."

Karmel shifted slightly against Erik, mind running every time he was anywhere near him. He noticed Sean eyeing the vine net."What, you want some flowers on it?" Karmel teased, Alex cackling above him.

Erik exhaled through his nose, holding back from actually laughing.

Sean rolled his eyes, stretching his arms out to spread the wings on his hoodie. He leaned forward, screaming loudly as he fell out the window and onto the net.

Karmel laughed, slapping his hand over his mouth to muffle it; he noticed Erik do the same, the two sharing a moment of sweet, sweet 'me too' eye contact.

Alex chuckled as he looked down at Sean, while Hank and Charles put their hands on the window sill and looked down a the net.

"Thanks for the net" Sean weakly called up.

"N-No problem" Karmel called, muffled through his fist.

***

Karmel lay back in an empty room of the mansion, on a fancy barbell seat. He grunted softly, pushing it up and down at his own speed. Exercise always helped Karmel get his mind off other things and focus on one thing (exercising), and Erik- moreover, how he felt about Erik- was something he's trying to push away for a while. Sure, he accepted it, but he didn't want it to cloud his mind and distract him from their mission. Karmel gasped when the metal barbell flew up and out of his hands, so he turned to the entrance of the room.

Erik stood there, a finger pointed upwards as he controlled the barbell. He locked eyes with Karmel, not knowing truly how much of an effect his eyes, or he himself, had on the dirty-blond-haired mutant. 

"Erik." Karmel greeted, clearing his throat. He noticed Erik had changed into a dark tee, tucked into khaki pants. Erik's exposed neck sent Karmel internally reeling like a repressed Victorian maiden. He felt his face heat up almost instantly.

"If you're using half your concentration to look normal, then you're only half paying attention to whatever else you're doing" Erik informed.

Karmel raised an eyebrow, resting on his elbows.

"I'm not blind to the actions and faces of someone who isn't acting like themselves, or hiding pieces of themselves that they fear people won't accept" Erik softly shook his head."It's been exceptionally clear to me that you've been hiding something."

Karmel feared for the worst."Erik, I-"

Erik raised a hand, silencing Karmel immediately."Charles told me you've got something hidden away in your mind, something he didn't bother telling me because that's the extent of him reading minds, and sharing secrets."

And a wave of relief washed over Karmel like a flood.

Erik walked over to Karmel, looking down at him with those piercing eyes of his. He glanced at the leather bracelet, holding himself back from cupping Karmel’s cheek, or touching him at all."Whatever's been bothering you, I just hope it won't fog up your mind entirely, or get in the way of us finding Shaw and destroying him. I just hope whatever it is...you accept it soon enough" Erik looked up at the barbell, which slowly fell down instead of racing down like something of its weight normally would.

Karmel's vines shot out from his sides, catching it in time.

"You want society to accept you, but you can't even accept yourself" Erik purred- with a tone that could only be defined as the fine line between concern and pity. He smoothly turned around, walking out the room.”I hope you know I could, Karmel. I would accept you.”

Karmel watched Erik as he left, partially unashamed to say he was mainly looking at Erik's ass.

So, Charles hid Karmel's repressed attraction towards men and masked it by saying 'repressed emotions', huh?

Karmel will have to thank Charles for making that believable enough. He set the barbell back on its stand, panting softly as he then draped an arm over his eyes."Fuck me" Karmel whispered, out of the sexual excitement looking at Erik's lower half brought him, and also out of relief that Erik wasn't aware of Karmel's feelings for him. He lifted his arms, narrowing his eyes on the bracelet on his wrist. Karmel brought his wrist down to his lips, softly planting a kiss on the metal clasp."I love you, Erik." He breathed, reassuring himself that these feelings were normal, natural, and most importantly, okay. Karmel will have to get used to them quickly, like Erik unknowingly said.

***

Charles, Erik, Hank, Karmel, and Sean stood on a platform at the top of a big satellite dish not that far off from the mansion, ready for another try at Sean's powers.

"And you truly believe I'll fly this time?" Sean asked Charles, looking down from how high up they were.

Erik and Karmel crossed their arms in unison, not on purpose. They glanced at each other and giggled softly.

"Unreservedly" Charles declared.

"Charlie Chaplin pullin' out the big-boy words as if they're more reassuring, huh?" Karmel teased, smiling proudly when Erik grinned back a laugh.

"I trust you" Sean ignored Karmel, tapping Charles' hand.

"I'm touched" Charles replied.

"I don't trust him-" Sean gestured at Hank, who frowned.

"Say nothing" Charles whispered to Hank.

Sean inhaled slowly, growing anxious."I'm going to die! Not even a net this time?" He asked Karmel.

Erik turned away, only growing bored.

"No net this time. You got this for sure" Karmel nodded.

"Alright, look, we're not going to make you do anything you don't feel like-" Charles wasn't able to finish his sentence.

"Here, let me help" Erik cut in, pushing Sean off the platform and into the wind.

"OH F-" Sean cut himself off with a small scream, Charles yelling "Erik!" and looking down, over at Sean.

Karmel threw his head back laughing, stepping away and grabbing onto a railing behind Erik. His lips cracked into a wide grin, ribs shaking with laughter as he knelt down, unable to stand up straight anymore.

Erik turned around to look down at Karmel, now being his turn to smile proudly at making Karmel laugh. He felt this warm, fuzzy feeling in his chest because of the accomplishment, but decided to dwell on it later. Erik outstretched a hand down to Karmel, who slowly looked up at Erik squinted eyes.

"My s-sides hurt-" Karmel wheezed, sniffing and taking Erik's hand, who pulled him up. He automatically leaned his arm onto Erik's shoulder for support, his arm slipping and getting replaced by his forehead. Karmel's laughter died down to giggles, as he closed his eyes.

Sean spread his arms once he reached the bottom of the dish, screaming his powers into existence in order to keep himself afloat.

Erik put his hand on his hip, following Hank's and Charles' gaze as Sean flew up and into the air. 

Sean laughed, letting out a long 'woo' as he glided downwards.

Erik, Charles and Hank watched him zip by, Karmel too occupied with his laughing fit and pained sides to pay attention.

Charles grinned a little, turning to stare at Erik.

"What?" Erik asked innocently, desperately trying to keep his mind off of how cute Karmel's laughing was."You know you were thinking the same" he dared, gesturing at Charles with one hand.

Charles put his hands on his hips, quickly glancing down at Karmel.

Erik turned his head down to Karmel's head on his shoulder, the soft giggling like music to his ears.

[clansayeed]

Bound by Choice ― IV.iii. What is a Trinity Without Three

PAIRING: OC x OC x OC (Valdas x Isseya x Cynbel) RATING: Mature (reader discretion advised)

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Choice ⥽

Before there were Clans and Councils, before the fate of the world rested in certain hands, before the rise and fall of a Shadow King ― there was the Trinity. Three souls intertwined in the early hands of the universe who came to define the concept of eternity together. Because that was how they began and how they hoped to end; together. For over 2,000 years Valdas, Cynbel, and Isseya have walked through histories both mortal and supernatural. But in the early years of the 20th century something happened―something terrible. Their story has a beginning, and this is the end.

Bound by Choice and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the Bloodbound series. Find out more [HERE].

Note: Choice is the only book in the series not based on an existing Choices story. It is set in the Bloodbound universe and features many canon characters.

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Choice/series tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

Cynbel tackles a new world problem with old world solutions, though Valdas and Isseya are less than pleased with the result. The world may seek to divide them but who would they be if they let it?

WARNING: this chapter contains sensitive themes regarding violence

[READ IT ON AO3]

“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.”

The vampire laughs at the steady barrel of Moray’s pistol now level at his face. Laughs and laughs and watches that surety slip with every passing moment.

“If you think one crime less than another Lord Montes, let me assure you that breaking into the home of a detective of Scotland Yard and threatening his life is much the same severity as your current charges.”

“Current charges,” Cynbel feigns innocence and terribly so, “what current charges? I was unaware you had yet to formally accuse us of anything.”

He takes pity on the poor man’s mortal eyes; takes the withering end of his cigarette and tosses it behind him to the hearth and lets it flicker alight. The room is steadily cast in the fire’s warm glow and leaves Cynbel framed in shadowy silhouette before it.

The perfect spot to watch every expression that flits across the detective’s weary features.

“This madman’s act will give me more than enough credibility to do so.”

Oh will it now? Cynbel picks at his fingernails absently. “Fascinating, though, that you do not ask how I came to know where you lived, how I found my way inside, why I’m here…”

“In my experience there are men on this earth who act without reason. I assume you are — one… of them…”

Watching Moray’s revelation is a rare delicacy. How his pistol wavers to the left slightly when he turns his head so harsh Cynbel hears the crack of old joints at the neck. Lingering, then, on the closed doorway behind him.

“My wife —”

“She’s resting, detective, and rather uneasily so. I suggest you keep your voice down. If she awakens before she is ready you really won’t have any hope.”

Grief, it’s impossible to keep the glee from his words as he says them. If he won’t be placated with a war then this will do — however small a measure.

But Moray doesn’t listen and advances on the door. Which Cynbel can’t have — it will ruin everything. The moment Moray grasps the door knob the vampire is behind him, enveloping him. Holding him as intimate as a lover as their cradled hands slowly pull back from the metal. “It’s for the best…” he whispers; the last act before he pulls back.

When he recovers from his stupor Moray advances; presses the cold metal barrel between Cynbel’s eyes. As if it would do a thing.

“What have you done to her?”

“Didn’t I tell you to speak low?”

“What have you done to my wife?!”

Thunk.

The noise is soft but the silence echoes loudly. Quickly Cynbel bats the pistol aside. It clatters to the wooden floor and shocks Moray enough to take heed of his words and step away from one danger and towards the other.

He sighs. “Now look what you’ve done. She could have had a chance.”

The implication makes Moray’s eyes widen. “If you have harmed her I will personally see you hanged.”

“As if that would take —” Cynbel rolls his eyes as if to say really, this again and listens for any sign of life on the other side of the door.

There is. Faint, yes, but there. Smelling of rot and foulness and craving as only the newborn do. It skitters closer and closer, away from the bed where Cynbel had laid her to rest.

“You have only yourself to blame.”

“That lies with her killer!”

“Really? Do you think I could have gotten to Mrs. Moray had you been here with her; tonight, if at all?”

Moray’s voice falters when the first thud sounds at the door. For once the greater threat is not he, Golden Son of Valdemaras, but the thing on the other side. Some innate, mortal part of Moray knows this.

“Trust me, detective, I know better than most the toll years can take on a marriage.” Though if they were here they would ream him for such an implication — so Cynbel corrects himself. “Now of course I’ve never been married, myself — we always agreed such binding contracts were just that; contracts. Only recently have they become such tawdry affairs and those too we’ve deemed too much for our unique relationship. For what we are to one another.

“I can’t help but wonder, though, how different things would be had you taken the time to discuss and repair your relationship with your dear wife. And not just for you— We would not have this meddlesome investigation. My beloveds would not have their hard-earned dalliances in this lifetime ripped out from under them. Your wife would still be alive.

“All you had to do was talk. Which… for the likes of men like us—men of action, that is to say—can be the hardest thing in the world to do.”

“Really,” Moray scoffs and his voice is thick, emotive; tearing him between the impulse to act and the desire for that which is long gone, “I’ve found that you never shut up.”

It makes Cynbel laugh again, wagging his finger; “You know I’ll give you that one. You gentlemen think murder such a grisly business but I find it brings out my inner poet.”

To Cynbel, to the door. To Cynbel again, to the door again. Moray reminds him of frightened game. “You—You admit it then? You confess?”

“On the contrary; I figured you were so determined to pin murder on my lovers and I… that I might as well give you a murder to validate your claim.”

“Y-You —”

“What I did not do, detective, was murder the Viscount. Not I, nor Isseya, nor Valdas. Fucking ill timing, that’s all it was. I couldn’t give less of a fuck who actually did the deed — he deserved it for how he spoke to my darling.

“Your justice is linear. I’m here to show you the truth; that justice is like everything else in this world. It is a part of the eternal cycle. I’ve bent it into place for you — you’re welcome.”

The banging on the door resumes and with it the lowest, barest of growls. Something sharp eats away at the already thin wood on the other side and soon it will break free.

Sweat rolls down Moray’s temples in teardrops of fear. The sight of it is euphoric. “Turning these days is a trickier process than it once was. For everyone else, of course. I had thought that the purity of my blood would be enough to compensate for your wife’s tragically fragile willpower but I guess not.”

So many words he struggles to understand and piece together. Apparently Cynbel is going to have to walk him through it.

“When a Turning goes foul,” he continues, “it still takes — more than it should. It takes the soul, the mind, the things that make a person who they are. And the thing left behind is truly ugly indeed.”

With a crack the door before them begins to splinter. Moray jumps at the sound. Needle-thin shards falling to the floorboards growing in number. The creature on the other side smells the blood so close and only grows in determination and fervor.

Fear paralyzes him. It runs sour down his trousers but Cynbel holds on because this is the most fun he’s had since they stepped foot in London.

“What… what is left behind?” Moray asks, his voice a whisper.

“They call it a Feral.”

And so the time for words passes. Cynbel holds Detective Moray through every fit and spasm of his body; the humanity inside desperate to flee the void it can feel through the growing hole in the door. Large enough for a taloned hand to scrape through; greying skin and veins bulging black along the length of it.

The door doesn’t last much longer after that.

Given their recent trials he doesn’t expect to be welcomed home to praise, to affection, to lust. They are — for the first time in his memory — too weary for that.

Not so weary enough, though, that they are made weak.

Valdas backhands his firstborn’s cheek with enough force to send him flying. He collides with the far wall, feels wooden frame and plaster yield to the weight of centuries, but still falls.

Isseya looks for a moment as if to speak, but changes her mind at a glance from her God.

But Cynbel’s still riding so fucking high from the thrill of it all that he can’t understand why his Maker is mad at him to begin with. He can still taste Mrs. Moray’s blood on his tongue, feel the detective’s sweat oily on his palms. The memory of it makes him laugh — though it barely lasts when the same hands that caress him lift him up by the throat again.

“You would mock me now?! Insufferable, ungrateful —!”

“Ungrateful?!” Cynbel spits the word bloody on Valdas’ cheek. “It is born from gratitude that I would do this for you, for the both of you! As I would for no one else!”

“Don’t color your words so, Cynbel,” mumbles their darling from her chair and he can’t fucking believe the look she gives him is angry too—how are they angry with him?! “You may say you’ve done this for us but the root of them is a selfish one.”

Valdas grasps harder; pushes him into the wall until it, too, starts to crack like the hole beside it. “Do you never think about the consequences of your actions? That I have to clean up the messes you wreak on the world?”

“In your name, Valdemaras!”

“In no name but your own!” Blood runs down Cynbel’s forehead and stings at his eyes but not enough to spare him the anguish and hatred that ghosts over his beloved’s faces.

He seemingly comes back to sense. Enough to drop Cynbel to the floor and cross the room in a breath; yet not to Isseya and the wounds that choice makes show gaping and festered.

“You are not so deluded, Cynbel, that you can’t see it,” he continues low as he watches the other vampire ease himself off his knees, “and perhaps the fault lies with me that I humored you for so long. That I didn’t punish you enough — that you thought you could risk what is mine time and time again…”

He always thought no word could ever cause the same pain as a blade, and hates that it is now that he is proven wrong.

“Forgive me, but you punished me a great many ti—”

“No.”

He looks to his God confused. “What?”

“No, Cynbel, I will not forgive you this time.”

It leaves him gaping and confused. Angry, scared; alone on an island of his own making. One they have all made for themselves where they are, for the first time, apart both physically and… and everywhere else.

Isseya shifts in discomfort. “Valdas, brash though he is… Cynbel has always acted for us.”

“Has he?”

“I have tried.”

The laugh he gets in reply is harsh and clipped and choked in the throat Cynbel knows so well. “Tell me you tried to show restraint at the detective and I will have your tongue. You reveled in it; fear, pain and suffering. You have always reveled in it.”

Cynbel raises his chin not in defiance, but in pride. “And you have loved that about me before.”

“Indeed — but you’ve let it blind you. Do you think you’ve gotten away with this? That that man’s slaughter will not go uninvestigated and unpunished?!”

“There’s nothing left of him to be investigated.”

“And the Order will not seek answer for this, I assume. Because you took such great care in your actions. In your beloved actions.”

“Now you border cruelty,” snaps Isseya, but his red-eyed stare wilts her again, “my Holy One.”

Which isn’t fair, not in the least. Throw him against walls, into furniture, out into the sun for all he cares but to turn that ire onto Isseya as though she had led him to the Moray home by the hand…

Cynbel groans as he stands. Feels bones slot back together and something in his spine dislodge itself from where it ought not to be. He wipes the blood from his eye though the cut is already healed. “Do not look to her that way.”

The audacity leaves Valdas bewildered. “What did you say?”

“What else should I have done?! Should I have been content to watch you both suffer? For weeks I have stood idle while that feeble cretin has torn everything you’ve built here to pieces. I might as well have been drowning in your blood — and from my own hands! Hands that are yours, Valdas, now as they always have been.”

“I did not command my hands to act.”

“You have never needed to before,” Cynbel’s voice cracks as if to prove his heart is breaking even if they cannot see it, “just like I’ve never not done everything in my power and much beyond to ease your pain… to bring you joy.”

“Joy,” whispers Isseya, “would have been staying here. But we cannot now, Cyn’, you know that don’t you?”

“Our lives have never been stagnant, Iss’. Why would we not move on from here as we have from any other place in the world?”

“Because the world is no longer the same!” The Made-God’s voice booms through the house. It is something they feel down to their very bones and further still. It silences them, sees them scolded children not yet defiant enough to dare risk their lives should he continue.

“Perhaps a century ago, two, ten even this would have been the answer. I would have rewarded you for it. But as the world changes so we must adapt to it to survive. Have you learned nothing? This place has been our greatest trial so far and you, my darling Cynbel, have never disappointed me so utterly in your failure.”

So many firsts this wretched city has wrought. Their first blows, the first night without familiar comfort. Their first true human threat and one that Cynbel had felt warranted swift action to please them; to save them.

And now… this.

“I—I am… I am not made for civility, Valdas; my love. Please do not ask me to be anything more or less than what I am.”

“I love you too much to do otherwise.”

He doesn’t look up — he can’t. Head cast down shoulders bearing the weight of their loathing towards him in that moment. And he is not irrational—he knows this is not something they have harboured for him for a time. But it is not a knowledge that numbs the pain of it.

Valdas approaches him with even and measured steps. Mortal steps at mortal speed; as if to give him chance to run should he wish. He could never. He could never.

From the edges of his sight he catches when Valdas kneels—his Divinity on bended knee—and tries to take Cynbel’s face in hand. Neither man can tell who of them trembles more but they do so as they do everything. Together.

The sight of tears on his Maker’s face is agony still.

“I love you far too much Cynbel,” he repeats just as broken, just as wounded, “to sit back and let you burn yourself with the flames of the past. That is what lesser vampires do — that is what those who are not my blood do. They relish on days in glory and the world leaves them to history, to places like the Musea Sanguis.

“You are no relic of rust. You are mine; my Golden Son. And I would not see you join the ranks of those beneath us — not when I know it would lead to your death.”

The noise that tumbles from him is animal and wretched. But Valdas takes it with love; wipes his thumbs over tear-tracks and looks as if to kiss him for apology but he hesitates — unsure. And in the one thing they have always been certain of.

The shadow darkening his eyeline grows and Cynbel feels a much surer touch at his hands where they rest on his lap. Fingers the barest touch away from breaking.

“You risked your life tonight,” she chides lukewarm, “and even the thought hurts us.”

“It means nothing.”

“No —” says Valdas; firm like his kiss “— do not. You are my blood—our blood—and that makes you so much more than nothing. For what trinity is without three? The world will always seek to divide us, and men better than Detective Moray have tried. We have weathered them all, remember? And we will weather them still.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because we are better. And if we are to survive every time the world changes then we must continue to be better. Even if it hurts us.”

Isseya’s cool touch fixes at his hair. Valdas uses his tongue to wet his finger and wipe away the blood he spilled. Cynbel can feel the regret in every soft stroke.

He’s paralyzed by the freedom of burden from their love.

“But what does it change? I—I cannot bring Moray back to life or ease the complications he caused your public lives.”

“No, and even if his death remains hidden he’s taken too much. We’ll have to leave within the season.” Honey-voiced Isseya has never been one to sugarcoat the truth. She doesn’t now, either. “And it will take me some time to forgive you for that, Cyn’.”

“As you see me suffering now I too saw you. And… and I could not take the pain of standing still.”

“Justify it for yourself all you want. What’s done is done.”

His God drags a worshipful touch over Cynbel’s features. “But it will never happen again.”

Say it, says the press of a thumb against his lips, and mean it well.

“It will not, my love.” Because it is for them both.

They could not risk losing sight of such an important thing again.

But ideas are just that — there is nothing corporeal about them. Nothing they can hold in their hands beyond one another and what of when the world takes them far away again? Then how will they remember?

So Isseya suggests a portrait.

“We’ve never had the like before.”

“And for good reason,” Valdas blows the smoke of his cigarette up, up where it curls into the stagnant air above their bed and remains until it reaches the ceiling, “it has been in the best interests of our kind not to leave such permanent traces.”

“Tell that to Augustine.”

“I have. Of course he didn’t listen.”

“The gall of you.”

His laugh is rich as he offers it to Cynbel, but their minx takes it before he has the chance. Teasingly she holds it out of reach, though really if she insists on keeping her leg thrown wide over his waist she will always be in reach, but it is light and it is fun and most important of all it is the best and safest he’s felt in a long time.

“Then we keep it with us.”

Isseya flicks ash on his bare chest at the suggestion. “I forbid it. No doubt you would insist the youngest carry it for the first century or two.”

“You know me so well!” She hits him—hard—but it only makes him laugh harder.

“Don’t make me come over there and break you two up.” Valdas warns with little heat; though he is amused by the way his Golden Son tries to push himself deeper into the mattress as though to make his space between them permanent.

“I so rarely get this, don’t take it from me just yet.”

“And why do you think that is?”

“Because you know it’s where I belong?”

Valdas snorts softly into his blond hair. “More like there’s never enough bed. Pull your limbs in tighter, darling.”

But he is Cynbel, the Golden Son, so he does quite the opposite. Valdas and Isseya give matching noises of protest and struggle to fight for their rightfully-earned spaces.

He will always prefer their laughter to their tears.

Tobias catches them discussing the finer details of such a portrait come the next sunset.

Cynbel’s main argument — vanity. “If by some rare chance this thing turns out favorably I would hate to look mortal upon it.”

But Valdas only shrugs. “Rather mortal than that which could serve as direct condemnation. Shame Signore Da Vinci passed last year — he detailed Augustine’s grim disposition quite well if I’m remembering correctly.”

“I wouldn’t stand for it even if he were.” Isseya beckons for the teapot and Tobias comes round quickly, though his soft laughter catches the three vampires by surprise.

“Something funny?” she asks, though it’s clear she couldn’t give a damn.

“You remind me of my cousin afar,” but does not let his musings detract from his work clearing the dining table, “back home, I should say. You see I had the mind to portrait every member of our house in my youth. They were wretched about it — I wasted a dozen canvases on the hair alone. Perhaps I could have finished in time had they not demanded I try again and again…

“I think I had but a mere few left to do… such things happen in families of a hundred or more. But my exile put a stopper in it.”

“Is there a point to this beyond you withholding my tea?” asks Isseya clipped and curt. Tobias quickly rushes back to her side with the teapot.

“I would be honored of the chance to take up the brush and palette again. Should you find the whimsy for it, of course.”

They have their painter, and the subjects willing. His payment, they decide as one, will be the Montes Estate.

Immediately Tobias refuses. “I could never! What would I do with all… this?”

“We will find safe storage for that which we covet. As for the house and the rest… Sell it for all I give a shit,” the Made-God replies, “I’m coming around to the idea of this painting being the only memory we claim from this place. We shall stay until it is complete and not an evening more.”

The following silence draws their attentions; to the pointed look their Maker gives Isseya. “Is there a meaning to that I’m missing?” she asks.

“I trust you will find a way to expedite your collegiate business within the time frame.”

“And if I cannot?”

Cynbel shrugs. “We find another college for you to attend. Switzerland, maybe — or Auvernal, I’ve always been fond of the border of Cordonia and Auvernal, forests there remind me of back when.”

Three weeks pass. Isseya might just well finish on time. Time they are already hoarding — and much of it not theirs to steal.

Detective Moray sought to slander them and he succeeded. Feeble and easily devoured as he had been, he still joins the ranks of the very few who have bested the Trinity throughout time.

Their drawing room parties are no more than fancies of things wistfully remembered. Shared in secret among those who knew but when left to the wild imaginations of the growing generation they quickly grow out of hand. Whispers of ritual sacrifice and demonic worship and how one young lady is convinced she saw the Lady Isseya Montes eat a beating human heart with her own eyes.

Though that could very well have happened. None of them can rightly remember.

It is best they leave London. England too, for that matter. The entire ordeal may have been eclipsed by the London Summer Season but Isseya’s absence does not go undiscussed.

“We cannot leave this godforsaken island soon enough,” is the first thing she says after returning from her final examination of autopsy, “I was just accosted by two wretched little birds. Do you know what they said to me?”

They can hear her all the way up to the drawing room; her lovers exchanging uneasy glances while Tobias helps adjust her hair for the portrait before coaxing her between them.

“What did they say dearest?” asks Valdas as he takes a kiss from her.

Cynbel takes one of his own. “And do they still breathe?”

“Indeed, though not for lack of wanting to gut them,” she bats the pair of them away and back into position; the portrait was her idea but she loathes the process the most, “apparently the current word of mouth is that bastard Viscount yet lives and I ran away with him. To France.”

That particular sitting takes longer than the others. When it comes time to sleep she banishes them to the floor for their laughter.

But even with their combined years and experiences — though the Trinity did not know it they did not prepare themselves even the least for what it would look like when complete.

It is clear from the moment Tobias turns the canvas for their final critique that there is magic in every stroke.

They look…

They look exactly as he sees them, Cynbel thinks as he makes sure to mind the fresh paint and keep his touch just shy of them. His largest hesitation was that this portrait, like other likenesses of them over the centuries, would not show him what he sees with his own eyes. But today Tobias has proven it possible. More than that — he has made it real.

“Does it meet your expectations, Made-God? Is the trade fair?”

Valdas has to actually wrench his gaze away from it. “Indeed. Perhaps… imbalanced on our part.”

With amusement Cynbel watches how their darling girl’s mouth opens and closes, opens and closes. Whatever witty remark or critique she had planned (and to think she did not would do her a disservice) simply will not do.

Finally she manages a reverent whisper. “You look as you did… in my mind. How I imagined the great God of Death Valdemaras and his Lover Risen from Mortality all those years ago. When I fell in love with you.”

Of course they only see the others. The better parts of themselves.

“Your compliments do me no credit. I realize just now even in your years you’ve probably not come across fae art. It all looks like this.”

Odd little thing, their fae butler. Perhaps one day, should their paths cross again, Cynbel might take it upon himself to discover what exactly sent the creature into exile — how he came upon London and if it was on purpose or otherwise that he slipped his way in among their staff. Or perhaps he is just glad to have not met the same fate as the rest of them.

“Nothing looks like this,” says Valdas — his lovers who agree, “a fitting thing to be our only memory of this place.”

“I’m glad to know I’ve done you justice, my Lords and Lady.”

Odd little thing, indeed.

“Beyond so, Tobias,” imbalanced though he indeed agrees, “if ever the unlikely event that we cross paths again should occur… call upon us, the chance to even this debt would be nice.”

Odd and funny — Tobias who has served them for years now, who knows the lengths they would go for their together, and who has the audacity to say; “I think I should fit the Lordship Montes quite nicely.”

Ultimately the Trinity must suffer the sane decision of sending the few things they want to keep safe overseas to Isseya’s progeny and the Musea Sanguis. They pay handsomely for everything to be taken to the docks at night and care little of thieves. Anyone unlucky enough to steal from them won’t live long enough to enjoy the spoils.

Emptier and emptier, their house, until the painting is the last thing of theirs left.

When the paint has dried and morning light come to London, Tobias commits his final act under their service. He dons his hat and coat, tucks the painting rolled tight to rest in a display that once held Valdas’ champion sword under his arm, and summons the carriage to take him to the docks.