#which is why i think its necessary for me to take a break and take my mind off it by writing my own original stuff for a while | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

defectivevillain · 15 days ago

Text

drowning in sentiment

pairing: Severus Snape/Reader

reader's race and gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors are used.

summary: Severus is quick to break the distance between you, as he kneels down next to you and places a hand over your forehead. “You’ve been dosed with Amortentia and you thought it pertinent to send a letter?" His voice possesses a confusing mix of irritation, fury, exasperation, and something surprisingly close to concern.

The following snippet is meant to serve as the sixth part to my ongoing series featuring Severus/Reader.

word count: 4k | ao3 version

Warnings: non-consensual drugging (amortentia), vomiting, nausea, unconsciousness, sickness, medical fare (think the infirmary, medical recovery processes, etc.)

Disclaimer: I do not support or condone the actions and beliefs of HP’s author in any way whatsoever. I thoroughly believe in fanfiction’s transformative, restorative, and healing power. Therefore, I write HP fanfiction not to encourage the author’s beliefs, but instead to directly challenge and disprove her prejudice; I write to further strengthen, validate, and support minority identities that are harmed by She Who Must Not be Named’s dangerous ideologies. I'm not taking any questions, comments, or criticisms regarding this. Don't like it? Don't read!

It all starts at lunch. At least, that’s your most educated guess.

You ate your typical meal and drank from your goblet, just like every other lunch. None of these occurrences should’ve been indicative of future turmoil. Yet, hours later, when you find yourself hunched over your desk with tunneling vision, shaking hands, and sweat along your skin, you have to come to terms with the fact that something happened. You’re no Potions expert, but you know the telltale signs of an Amortentia dosage when you see them.

You summon a piece of parchment and grab your quill, writing a quick letter to Severus and handing it to your owl. Your owl lets out a weak chirp, pecking your forehead in evident concern before flying away. Severus will certainly be able to brew the necessary Potions to get the Amortentia out of your system. Ordinarily, you’d simply walk over to his office—but you’re not very confident in your ability to walk at the moment. Indeed, the moment you had gotten up from your desk, you were hit with such an intense wave of dizziness that you fell to the ground. You’ve since managed to move back to rest against the wall behind you, closing your eyes in a feeble attempt to distract yourself from the feverish sensation at your core and your blurring vision.

Meanwhile, Severus is grading papers in his office when he hears an owl tapping at his closed window. He huffs and turns around, tempted to ignore the creature until he recognizes it as yours. The Potions master gets to his feet and opens the window, only for the owl to nearly collide with his chest as it frantically flies at him. Severus frowns and takes the parchment tied to its leg. The message only deepens his frown.

Severus, Apologies for disrupting you. When you get the chance, would you bring me some potions to treat Amortentia dosage? They’re for a student.

Severus stares down at the parchment for a moment longer, unease prickling along his skin. He wonders why you didn’t simply come to his office to ask him in person. Even more troubling is the uncharacteristic slant to your writing. He can’t seem to get rid of the unfounded feeling of dread settling in his chest as he looks at your message. It’s innocuous, and yet… he knows something is wrong.

Furthermore, if the Potions were for a student, then you’d likely supply their name—after all, Hogwarts faculty are trained to practice ultimate discretion when it comes to the health of their students. Your messy writing and the omission of the student’s information aren’t significant on their own; together, however, they unsettle him. Your owl bats him with a wing, breaking him from his thoughts. Your owl—which is usually quite calm—seems to be stressed, too. Quickly coming to a decision, Severus heads for the door to his office.

And you’re now lying on the ground with your back to the wall with sweat dripping down the back of your neck. Your clothes feel extremely constricting and you want nothing more than to run out of your office and find the person who slipped you the potion, the object of your affections, the target of your obsession-

Suddenly, your office door is nearly thrown off its hinges as it slams against the adjacent wall. You look up at the sudden noise, only to find Severus standing in the doorway, looking truly menacing as he wears a furious expression on his face. “Severus,” you say. You don’t think you manage to successfully hide the relief you feel from your voice, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. You don’t have the energy —not when your skin feels like it’s oozing off of you into puddles on the ground.

Severus is quick to break the distance between you, as he kneels down next to you and places a hand over your forehead. “You’re the one who needs the potion,” he states. His voice possesses a confusing mix of irritation, fury, exasperation, and something surprisingly close to concern. “You’ve been dosed with Amortentia and you thought it pertinent to send a letter?”

“It didn’t seem pressing at the time.” You choke out, shivering and sweating at the same time. You feel like you’re stuck in quicksand—even a small gesture with your hand feels like an uphill battle against a powerful current.

“Merlin,” Severus mutters.

There are tears sliding down your cheeks now. You wipe at your eyes, your hands trembling beyond belief as your vision tunnels and sways around you. The professor leans closer and you flinch, guilt flooding through you when you recognize the instinct.

But Severus doesn’t seem to take offense. He’s staring at you with a clinical gaze, taking in all of your symptoms and evidently developing a plan in his head. He opens the satchel at his side with nimble fingers, grabbing an unfamiliar vial. “Take this,” Severus implores. At your blank stare, he continues. “Don’t make me force you.” The dark expression on his face suggests that he will do exactly that, if necessary. After a moment's contemplation, you bring a shaking hand to the vial. Expecting him to relinquish his grip, you bring the vial to your lips and tilt it back—only to realize that Severus’ hand hasn’t left the vial either, instead moving it to your lips and ensuring you don’t drop it. The potion burns as you swallow it and you cough briefly, shuddering at the awful taste.

Then a weak, utterly humiliating sound wrenches its way from your lips. Your skin feels like it’s on fire. “Severus-” You try to say urgently. Your words are garbled and your tongue feels far too thick to create anything coherent. In one last burst of energy, you try to reach out to him—only to succumb to the darkness creeping along the edges of your vision.

You wake up in the Hogwarts Hospital Wing and, at first, you feel as if you’re a student. Then, the memory of what happened rushes back to you and you’re forced to remember that you’re a professor who was poisoned by a student. The thought unsettles you, so you try to distract yourself by looking around the space.

To your surprise, Severus is sitting at your bedside, looking entirely unimpressed. The pinched expression on his face looks somewhat painful to maintain, yet his scowl is so deeply-set that it doesn’t even flicker in intensity. You try to avert your eyes, but it’s too late—he’s noticed you’re awake.

“...Hello,” you try. Severus arches a brow. For a long moment, there is nothing but a horribly tense silence that descends across the space. You glance around the Hospital Wing, relieved to find that there aren’t any students present. It’s embarrassing enough for Severus to be here—the last thing you need is for one of your students to be seeing you like this.

His form is strung together with a silent fury. “What could have possibly possessed you to consume a gift from a student?” Severus eventually seethes. It takes you a few moments to process that accusation.

“A gift from a student?” You then ask, your voice a little hoarse. You clear your throat before continuing. “Do you really think so little of me? I’m not that foolish.”

Severus stills. “Where do you suspect the potion was, then?” He asks carefully, clearly sensing the implications of your confession.

“It must’ve been in my goblet during lunch.” You answer.

Severus’s expression morphs from vicious fury to calculating precision. “That is… even more concerning,” he admits with a stormy expression. “I will speak to the elves about this.” He resolves.

“Severus, that’s not-” That’s not necessary, you want to say. Except it sort of is. You don’t want anything like this to happen again—you don’t want to feel doubtful or suspicious of the meals in the castle. Severus must sense your thought process, because he continues as if you hadn’t said anything at all.

“The offender will be expelled,” he asserts easily. “Since they are likely a student.”

“Expelled?” You choke out, suddenly feeling lightheaded. Sure, you’re unsettled by the whole situation, but you don’t want to completely ruin a child’s future. Preventing them from returning to Hogwarts seems a little extreme. “Severus, expulsion is a little extreme. I don’t want that to happen; we can negotiate something less severe-”

“I don’t remember inquiring about your desires,” Severus states coldly, bringing you back to reality. You once again feel like you’re a student, as you’re coming face to face with the professor’s unflinching authority. You resist the growing urge to shrink back against the pillows at your back. “And need I remind you that administering Amortentia without explicit consent is a felony?”

“No,” you sigh resignedly. You bring a shaking hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose. You’re still struggling to get a handle on everything that happened. It all feels like a blur. “I just… I don’t want to make this a big deal.”

“This became a big deal when a Hogwarts professor’s life was endangered by a student’s foolish actions,” Severus asserts, raising a brow and challenging you to argue. You remain silent and, once he senses that you won’t voice any dissent, he continues. “Now, tell me who it was.”

Somehow, that statement is what makes the reality of it all set in. You were so distracted by your symptoms that you didn’t stop to think and internalize the fact that a student was likely the one to do this. Someone in the castle wanted this to happen to you. At the mention of the culprit, dull grey eyes unwittingly come to mind. You’re suddenly hit with a horrible wave of dread and infatuation all at once, as the student’s visage appears in your mind’s eye. Even the thought of uttering their name is enough to summon the taste of bile. Every time you close your eyes, you see their cool gaze and shimmering hair and-

You’re vomiting into the bowl at your side. When you’re finished, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and place your hands on the mattress, feeling the need to brace yourself. Severus vanishes the evidence of your sickness, which you are thankful for—the smell would not have helped your persistent nausea. He’s patiently waiting for your explanation, and it’s abundantly clear that you’re not going to be able to escape this.

“Just-” You choke, shaking your head. It all feels like far too much. You take a shuddering breath, pretending not to feel as helpless as you do. Their name feels caught in your throat. A verbal admission is too much for you to handle right now. “Look at me.” You implore the professor. Severus understands quickly, as his eye contact with you quickly turns probing. You try to drop your Occlumency shields and summon the student’s visage to mind, showing Severus rather than telling him. The effort isn’t exactly difficult, given the potion that’s coursing through your veins. If anything, it’s harder not to think about the culprit.

“Legilimens,” Severus says quietly. For a moment, it feels as if you’ve been plunged into ice water. There’s the faintest sensation of a frigid breeze rifling through your mind. Then, within moments, the professor’s looking away with thinly-veiled fury in his eyes. He seems moments away from walking out the door and interrogating the student, until a cough rips its way out of your throat and his attention is evidently thwarted.

Severus squints at you before getting to his feet and approaching your bed. He places a hand to your forehead before holding your jaw and looking into your eyes, tilting your head slightly as he evidently looks for lingering effects from the potion. His hands are cool; you have to resist the urge to keep them pressed to your skin, if only because of the boiling feeling running along your skin. “I’ve provided a strict Potions regimen to ensure the Amortentia leaves your system,” Severus explains, his gaze flitting to the parchment on the bedside table. Then he looks at you sternly. “It is imperative that you maintain this regimen.”

“Okay,” you say, too tired to argue or question him any further. You blink at him dazedly, struggling to clear your vision. The air seems to fall still. “Thank you, Severus.” Severus just nods, his right hand still cradling your jaw. The infirmary descends into a tense—but not uncomfortable—silence.

There’s some bustling in the corner of the room. “You have another visitor,” Madam Pomfrey says, promptly breaking the strange moment that had been created between Severus and you. Severus leans back and nods at you, before making his departure. You watch him leave with conflicting feelings.

“Albus,” you greet the headmaster, who walks into the room with a concerned expression.

“How are you faring?” Albus asks, settling at your bedside.

“I’m fine, thanks to Severus,” you respond honestly. You’ve been better, but without his help, you’d be feeling much worse.

“He seems worried, the dear boy,” Albus says, leaning forward conspiratorially. “He has been on edge since you fell unconscious.”

“Oh.” You’re not really sure what else to say. Judging by the way Albus is smiling, he’s trying to tell you something. You just don’t know what it is.

Over the next few days, Severus accompanies you to every meal. He always performs spells to ensure nothing has been tampered with. You want to be thankful for the thought, but at this point, you’re just frustrated that you have to go to such lengths.

You’re slowly starting to recover, though. The Potions regimen Severus left you is dwindling down, as you take lower doses with each passing day. But there are still lingering side effects. Your hands still have tremors; your vision still has brief bursts of painful clarity. You still feel a little nauseated when thinking about the student who constructed this charade.

The paranoia has to be the most debilitating aftereffect of all, though. You’re sure it’s a logical response to a near-death experience, but it’s making things rather inconvenient. Despite all the reassurance you’ve been given—by practically every member of the Hogwarts staff and several Ministry officials—it still doesn’t feel like enough. You still have moments when you can’t even stomach the thought of eating—meal times spent huddled in a corner of your office, shaking as you’re assaulted with the prickling sensation you’ve grown to associate with Amortentia.

You start to think you’re getting better. But then you get up from your desk late one night, only to crumple to the ground like a broken marionette. You can’t even push yourself up to your feet—instead left to slowly fade away on the floor of your office. You’re commanding your muscles to move but they’re ignoring your demands. Your skin is licked with flames and sweat. Suddenly, your throat feels extremely dry. Your office is spinning around you and, within seconds, you’re slipping into darkness once more.

There is a cool cloth draped over your forehead when you wake. You stare up at the ceiling, your vision slowly returning to you. You attempt to push yourself up to a sitting position, but the effort is annoyingly difficult. There’s an almost imperceptibly quiet noise of frustration, before you’re being helped up with a hand on your forearm and another at your side. Your breaths are labored once you finally sit up.

When your vision finally starts to calm down, you find yourself staring into familiar black eyes. “Severus,” you say. Your vision is spinning a little, but not enough for you to miss the irritated furrow to his brows.

“I distinctly recall ordering you to notify me if any of your symptoms returned,” Severus states flatly. He looks entirely unimpressed. And damn it, now you’re feeling guilty again.

“…I didn’t want to bother you.” It sounds pathetic, even to your own ears. Severus briefly looks to the ceiling, as if wishing for it to swallow him whole and end his life. He seems to be exercising a nearly infinite amount of patience; you can tell by how much time he takes to respond.

“This is the second time you’ve taken the liberty of making that decision for me,” he says coolly. It’s clear there’s a lot more he wants to say, but he holds his tongue. Instead, Severus scowls and casts a diagnostic spell. “No fever.”

“That’s good.” You say weakly.

“The dosage must’ve been high,” Severus then says, his brows furrowed. You can’t tell if he’s speaking to you or himself, at this point. “It should be out of your system.” But it’s not, you think. It’s not out of my system, and I’m scared.

“Severus-” You try to say.

“It will fade soon enough,” he states. That’s as close to reassurance as you’re going to get. “Rest. I’ll ensure you’re awake to take your next potion.” He says sincerely.

And so you rest.

Seeing you in this state unsettles Severus far more than he’d like to admit. He tells himself his concern is of a professional nature and nothing more. He’s concerned for his colleague; and the implications of this Amortentia incident. After all, the bare facts still paint a startling picture: a Hogwarts professor drugged by a student, in the Great Hall during mealtime. The castle has always been regarded as one of the safest places in the wizarding world; yet a staff member has been harmed within its walls.

Severus expected you to show resistance at the thought of seeking out the culprit; he was surprised, therefore, that you allowed him to sort through your mind in his search. No one has shown him that kind of trust before. Yet you unflinchingly met his eyes, and implored him to look into the depths of your mind.

Severus did nothing of the sort, of course. He did not want to betray your trust, and so his perusal through your mind was quick and purposeful. The unusually tangled web that structured your thoughts did not escape his notice, of course. He knows you to be a rational person; such disorganization is an indicator of a deeper issue. In your case, it is a sign that the Amortentia hasn’t been completely removed from your system.

Severus spends an immeasurable amount of time brewing the potions needed for your treatment. Brewing is usually a tranquil experience for him. Yet, today, he’s lost in his thoughts as he prepares ingredients. Fortunately, for a wizard of his expertise, distraction will not truly affect the result. He does seem to be in the lab for longer than usual, but then again, he doesn’t typically have occasion for brewing these particular potions. If everything goes according to plan, Severus will not need to brew any more potions like this for you.

When he’s finished with the first few doses, Severus breaks away from the lab and returns to his personal quarters. You’re reclined on the sofa, looking exhausted and…vulnerable. Severus tears his eyes away. Truthfully, he has never allowed someone into his quarters before. It’s strange. Severus was convinced he would dislike it—that your presence would feel like an intrusion. But he knew he would be able to care for your symptoms much more effectively if you were near. And somehow, the sight of you manages to alleviate some of his prior concerns. He’d daresay your presence comforts him.

…Maybe the Amortentia was transferred to him, too. He scoffs at the unlikely thought, but decides to subject himself to a quick diagnostic spell just in case. As Severus suspected, there is nothing wrong. These strange feelings are entirely of his own creation.

You’ve been looking at him with such a trusting gaze throughout this healing process that it makes Severus want to vomit. He immediately wants to roll up his sleeve and force you to take in the warped mark across his forearm, if only to dispel you of the notion that he is in any way deserving of your trust.

He only averts his eyes from your sleeping form instead, his throat feeling tight. What is it about you that provokes such sentiment within him? Severus shakes his head quickly. He doesn’t have the luxury to contemplate such things at the moment; right now, your health is the priority.

When he has a moment to breathe, Severus informs Albus of the culprit. It slips his mind, for the briefest of moments, that the headmaster is stubbornly idealistic—and sees the best in everyone. Indeed, he should have expected Albus to provide an alternative method of disciplining the child.

“Suspension.” Severus states blandly, glaring at the headmaster. “You believe suspension to be a suitable punishment for the unlawful administration of Amortentia.”

“And what would you suggest, Severus?” Albus asks, his eyes twinkling. He’s setting a trap for him. For some reason, unknown to Severus himself, the headmaster wants him to argue.

“Expulsion, of course.” Severus scoffs. He isn’t sure what the old fool is trying to do here.

“I can’t imagine your colleague was quite pleased with that suggestion.” Albus remarks, that damned twinkle in his eyes still taunting him.

“Not at first,” Severus admits with a scoff. “Of course, upon discussing the likelihood of a similar incident occurring, the suggestion was better received.” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“I see.” Albus responds. There’s a thin smile on his face.

“What?” Severus nearly spits. “A professor has been drugged. This is no laughing matter, Albus.”

“Of course not.” Albus says sincerely. “Alas, I fear you are correct. Expulsion would be the wise choice. I shall inform the boy’s parents at once.”

Severus’s jaw clenches in irritation. That was far too easy. Albus is never so easily persuaded; and yet, he conceded without much argument. Just what does the old man have planned? The Potions professor regards him warily.

“No need to be suspicious, dear boy.” Albus reassures him. The reassurance only makes Severus more suspicious. “I’m only thankful that you have found tolerable company here in the castle.”

Severus glares at him for several moments. His jaw is clenched and his teeth are gritted. “And how is this relevant, exactly?” He manages to spit out.

“It’s merely an observation.” Albus surrenders. He senses Severus is growing tired of this conversation. “And how is our young professor faring?”

“I’m developing an enhanced regimen to eradicate the Amortentia.” Severus responds, thankful for an excuse to talk about something else. “I brought my colleague,” he borrows the words of the headmaster, “to my quarters, to ensure proper adherence to the regimen.”

“Your quarters?” Albus asks lightly. He looks rather pleased with himself. The Potions professor’s wand hand twitches. “That’s rather forward of you, Severus.” Severus’s jaw nearly cracks with how hard he grits his teeth at the remark. Albus is wearing a victorious smile; the Potions professor immediately steels his composure and stares right back at the man.

After what feels like far too long, the headmaster relents. “Keep me updated, Severus.” Albus remarks, his expression returning to an appropriate concern.

Severus nods jerkily, before making his escape. He is never quite certain when a conversation with Albus will morph into an interrogation; this time was particularly catastrophic. He takes a few slow breaths as he returns to his quarters.

Unsurprisingly, you are awake to greet him. Before either of you can descend into empty small talk, you’re breaking through the silence. “You… don’t mind me being here, do you?” You ask, glancing around the room as if realizing your surroundings for the first time. “I can return to my quarters, I’m sure.”

“Given the return of your symptoms, that would be unwise.” Severus says after a moment. It takes him longer than he’d like to formulate a response. “I’m afraid I will have to be… inconvenienced by your presence a bit longer.” Yes, it is truly inconvenient—because you provoke such unusual feelings in him. Every time he sees you in his quarters, he has these horrible urges to embrace… domesticity. It disgusts him.

“If you insist.” You say hesitantly. Neither of you decide to acknowledge the tension that has settled in the air. Severus promptly returns to asking you about your symptoms, in an attempt to ward off these strange sentiments that spring to mind in your presence.

endnotes: I feel like Severus is in a perpetual state of disgust: with himself, with the world around him... sigh. he's very fun to write for, though.

I genuinely forgot I wrote this and was so happy to find it in my drafts again. And then a few weeks passed and I forgot about it *again.* When I stumbled upon it again, I was very surprised to find it 99% complete, bahaha.

anyways, thanks for reading! <3

check out my other works, sorted by fandom.

general taglist: @its-ares @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @kingkoku @the-ultimate-librarian @gayaristocrat @always-lying-to-you ; and tagging @sir-aadiboii because you sent me an ask about this series!

friendly reminder that i don't give permission for my writing to be shared to other sites, stolen, copied, translated, or used in any way. thanks!

#defectivevillain #obsessed with this gif holy shit #severus snape x reader #snape x reader #hp x reader #hp x gn reader #hp x male reader #transmasc reader #male reader #gn reader #snape x male reader #snape x gn reader #severus snape x male reader #severus snape x gn reader #you get the idea

243 notes · View notes

starsinthesky5 · 10 months ago

Text

wanna get out of here? | joe burrow x reader

description: an impromptu getaway is exactly what you and joe needed

a/n: ahhh my second fic!! all the love on my first one gave me the motivation to go and write another one :) i hope you all like this one!

warnings: smut (hope it’s not too bad since it’s my first time writing it LOL), language

word count: 6 k

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

Wednesday

The sounds of hammering rain and thunder were all you could focus on as you were sitting on the couch, curled up in a blanket trying to finish an overly complex project for work. You had been trying to finish the final section for the past week but you simply could not get rid of the restless feeling that had engulfed you over the past few days.

Joe, on the other hand, was sitting right next to you. He was staring at the TV which had on some random rerun episode of The Office. Normally, he’d be laughing along to the show no matter how many times he had seen the episode, but today he was quiet & agitated. He had been overwhelmed this past month with intense rehab for his wrist injury; on top of which he had his off-season workouts every day which had also been incredibly vigorous. He was mentally and physically burnt out and needed something to take his mind off of everything. He noticed that you also had been swamped with work which caused you to be on edge the whole week, preventing you two from having any real 1 on 1 time like you usually do, and he wasn’t having it.

You were typing away on your computer, another idea that would probably lead to nothing, before you heard the TV turn off.

You turned your head to Joe and saw his blank face. “Everything Okay?” you questioned while reaching for his hand.

“Wanna get out of here?” he asked while interlocking your hands, still looking expressionless.

“Joey there is literally a monsoon happening outside right now,” you deadpanned as you squeezed his hand.

“Not out there. I mean do you wanna get out of Ohio?”.

“Who are you and what have you done with my fiancee,” you laughed.

“What?” he asked, looking quizzical as if he had no idea why you said that.

“You, the same man that never leaves his house unless it’s business or football related. And sometimes due to a forced social activity, or occasionally to have fun, wants to leave Ohio? You’re practically a turtle that stays in its shell all day,” you say before going back to your work project.

Joe is slightly taken aback by what you said. Deep down he knows you aren’t wrong, he doesn’t go out very often, which made what he said next even more necessary.

“Let’s go to the Bahamas this weekend. I can call up Ted and get a jet here and we can leave Friday morning. I’m thinking we stay at a lowkey house on a private beach for maybe 4 days,” he says.

You think he’s just messing with you but when you look over at him, he looks serious.

“Where is this coming from?” you say with worry in your voice. In the 5 years, you and Joe have been together, he’d never sprung an idea of a vacation on you by himself, it was always mutual. And you’d never left the States before either. You close your computer and turn to face him.

“I’m just so fucking tired,” he says with a sigh. “These past few weeks have been really intense and I just need a break.”

Your face drops as he continues. He’d been under so much pressure lately with OTA’s slowly approaching and training amping up; plus all the background noise. He’d start throwing in the next month or so and deep down he was nervous. He didn’t know how it was going to go and if all this rehab was even worth it if he was never going to be able to get back to where he was.

“And you’ve been stressed out all week because of work and it feels like we haven’t had just ‘us’ time,” he adds.

Joe was right. He’d be gone all day with either rehab or workouts and the only time you two would get together would be dinner. And by dinner, you’d be too exhausted to do anything but eat and rush off to bed.

You spend a few moments contemplating his offer. It would be nice to get away for a few days and you both needed the change of environment badly.

“Okay, let’s do it," you say with a smile as you pull him in for a hug.

“But just so you know, since we’d be leaving in 2 days, I’m going to be an absolute nightmare when it comes to packing,” you say before planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Oh, I'm well aware. You only get 2 days to stress about packing and not a whole week like usual,” he laughs.

Thursday Evening

You both spent the majority of the day planning your impromptu vacation. You found the perfect beach house on the other side of Nassau, away from the main part of the island. It was hidden by palm trees and had a private beach which made it easy to unwind without any prying eyes. You would spend the week there and pick out a few activities nearby to occupy your time. You also chose a few places to eat although you both decided to cook at home for the majority of your stay.

Currently, you were sitting on your closet floor attempting to pack your suitcase but were majorly failing. Packing was never your strong suit, especially if you had to pack the day before a trip. The closet looked like a war zone, things were everywhere.

“This is the wrong time to not be able to find anything,” you say to yourself while getting up once again to hunt for missing items.

Joe walked into the closet and saw you frantically pacing back and forth looking for something.

“Babe, are you Okay?” He asked while sitting down on the stool.

“Have you seen my new white bikini? Or my sunglasses? Or my tank tops?” You asked, aggravated that you couldn’t find your stuff.

“I literally cannot find anything,” You added before giving Joe a look. He knew that look all too well, you were 1 misplaced item away from having a full breakdown.

He got up from the stool and walked over to where you were, put his hands on your shoulders, and said “Y/N you could wear a potato sack and still look amazing. Stop stressing about it, this vacation is supposed to get rid of the stress. Not add onto it,”

You let out a deep breath and say “You’re right. It’s just us anyway. I’ll just pack some nice dresses and stuff whatever in the suitcase,”

“The fewer clothes the better,” Joe smirks and says before leaning in and planting a kiss on your lips.

“You’re insatiable,” you say against his lips.

After you finish packing your suitcase, you get ready for bed since you have a fairly early flight. It took Joe about 15 minutes to pack his things, which came as no surprise since he is the biggest outfit repeater you know. You’re just about ready to doze off before you feel Joe’s hand creep up your leg and squeeze your thigh.

“Mmm Joe not right now,” you say half asleeply. “Go to bed,”

“Not that,” he states. “I can’t fall asleep,” he mumbles.

You let out a sigh before turning to face him. No way you’re getting any sleep now. “What’s wrong,” you say as you move his messy curls out of his eyes.

“I don’t know, I just can’t fall asleep,” he says.

You knew Joe too well to know when something was bothering him. His confession earlier was only the tip of the iceberg. Something was bugging him and you needed him to talk to you.

“What’s going on in that brain of yours,” you say as you play with his curls.

He stayed silent for a few heartbeats, not knowing if he should unload his heavy thoughts on you right before a vacation. But he knew that it was just you. You’d always listen to whatever he had to say, no matter the time or place.

“Just everything.” He says, meeting your eyes. “Rehab has been going great and training has been too, and I should be happy about that but I just can’t get rid of that feeling,”

“What feeling?” You question.

“Feeling like I won’t be good enough. I know what people are saying; overpaid, overrated, no rings, injury-prone. And they aren’t wrong. I don’t have anything to back up why people think I’m a top 3 quarterback,”

Your heart breaks as he continues to talk. The fact that Joe feels like he isn’t good enough is mind-boggling to you. He’s one of the best damn players you’ve ever seen and you wish you could do something to get rid of his doubts, but you knew that that was something he had to do on his own.

“But you do have things to back it up. You had one of the greatest college football seasons ever. Winning the Natty and the Heisman was only the start of your legacy. You were drafted by an organization that was in desperate need of saving and you made an impact that not many could have done,” you say as you see a small smile on his face.

“You had a shitty rookie season with tearing basically everything in your knee, but you worked hard and came back better than ever fucking before. You went on and led the team to their first playoff win in 30 years and went to the fucking Super Bowl in your first full season,” you add.

“Yeah, you didn’t win. But you put the entire league on notice and showed them who the hell you are. And then you did it again next year even though you didn’t go all the way. This past year was rough and didn’t go the way anyone would have expected, but this is part of what makes you, you.” you say with a smile as he stares deeply into your eyes.

“You thrive when there’s adversity. It makes you work harder for what you want and it always pays off one way or another. You always come out better and stronger. You are a great quarterback and are absolutely more than good enough. You’re going to have your moment soon, and I know it,” you conclude.

Joe stares into your eyes for a few more heartbeats. You knew exactly what to say to bring him back down from whatever cloud he was stuck on and he was so thankful for you.

“I love you,” he said as he pulled you onto his lap, pressing kisses all over your face.

“I love you more, always,” you laugh as he kisses the hell out of you.

You two spent the rest of the night in each other's embrace. You finally felt at peace once you heard Joe’s soft snores fill the room and finally got some sleep.

Friday

You both got up pretty early for your flight, taking a quick shower before packing the car and heading to the airport. After boarding the plane you both took off your shoes, pulled out your fav blanket, and got comfy.

“Are you excited?” Joe beams.

“Excited is an understatement, Burrow,” you smirk. “Getting you out of Ohio might be my favorite part,”.

“I’m so looking forward to getting some sun and swimming in that big pool,” he says, referring to the massive pool that’s a part of the house you rented.

“It’s like you’re a whole new person,” you smile while leaning your head on his shoulder. He smiles and kisses your forehead before pulling out his laptop to turn on a movie.

“Oooo what are we gonna watch?” you excitedly question.

“I was thinking of either ‘Grown-Ups’ or ‘21 Jump Street’,” he responds.

“Hmm, let’s do Jump Street, it’s been a while since we watched that,” you say.

You spent the rest of the flight watching movies, playing a few card games, and eventually taking a small nap before the plane landed.

A few hours later

After the plane landed, you both drove to your house for the week and it was like something out of a fairytale. The house overlooked the beach and the crystal blue water. Lush green palm trees surrounding the house provided ample privacy, especially for the large open pool in the backyard. You two settled into the house before changing into your swimsuits for a nice afternoon dip in the pool. You did end up finding your new white bikini, which was perfect for the occasion.

Joe walked out of the bathroom and saw you brushing your hair in the mirror. His eyes trailed down to your bare legs, up to your perfect ass, then to your toned stomach, and straight to your chest. You looked so sexy and he was in heaven. He walked up to you and hugged you from behind, his warmth causing you to melt into his arms.

Your eyes met his in the mirror, “Like what you see, Burrow?” you teased.

“Absolutely,” he chuckled as he swayed you two back and forth, pressing a kiss on the back of your shoulder while sliding his hand down to your ass. Joe was grinning like a love-struck fool as he watched you close your eyes and melt into his embrace. He was making you feel more relaxed than you’d ever been before and you both were loving it.

You both ventured out to the pool and sat down on the pool chairs, hoping to get a quick tanning sesh in before a swim. A few minutes in, Joe found himself staring at the pool when he got an idea.

“I’m gonna jump into the pool,” he casually said.

You quickly turned your head to him and said, “Are you crazy, the water will get everywhere,” You gasped.

“It’s just us though, nobody around to complain. Besides, I can’t do it in the pool at home since we spent way too much money on redoing the backyard. At least here there isn’t any vegetable garden at risk of being destroyed,” he smirked before quickly running back to the patio door and launching himself into the pool, not giving you a moment to lecture him.

The water did in fact get everywhere but it was worth it when you saw Joe come up from the water. He shook his head back and forth to get the water out of his hair before he took his hand and attempted to slick it back. Your eyes navigated to his muscular chest which had stray water droplets sliding down his abdomen, back into the water. God, he looked so hot like this.

“Like what you see, Burrow,” he teased as he noticed your expression.

“Yes, in fact I do. Very much actually,” you say while getting off the chair. “And I’m not a ‘Burrow’ yet, still gotta wait a few months before that,” you say as you make your way into the pool.

“Well, you’re practically already my wifey sooo,” he trails off before swimming over to the steps and helping you into the pool.

You giggle at his words. He couldn’t wait to marry you and he never failed to make it known.

You immediately latch onto him when you're in the pool. This was pretty normal for you both. You’d always use him as a floatie and make him do all the work while you just lay on him and relaxed.

A few moments later you release yourself from his embrace, making him slightly confused at the sudden loss of contact.

“Y/N come back,” he whines out.

“Someone’s clingy today,” you say while playfully rolling your eyes and swimming away from him.

He stared at you for a few moments, a sad look on his face while you continued to swim around and away from him. You felt bad that you’d left him hanging but you were having too much fun teasing him.

“Come and catch me shiesty,” you yelled. He hated it when you called him that. That nickname was only for football-related individuals to use and he thought it was a little cringe whenever you would use it. Not in a bad way, it’s just he preferred you calling him other names that football-related people can’t use. You knew how he felt about it but you also knew that this would for sure set him off.

“Oh you’re done for,” he playfully growled before swimming after you. The pool was massive so you had just enough space to get away from him.

You two were swimming circles around each other, occasionally splashing water into each other's faces in hopes of catching each other off guard. Your arms began to get tired of swimming around so you stopped by the ledge to take a breather while Joe was settled on the other side of the pool.

Before you knew it, Joe had swum over to you and pulled you back into his arms.

“Got you,” you whispered against your ear.

“I guess you did,” you whispered back.

“You look absolutely gorgeous by the way,” he said looking down into your eyes. “I love this bikini on you,”

You blushed at his sweet comments. He never failed to tell you how pretty you looked.

“Ya know, I look even better with it off,” you tease.

Joe’s face dropped immediately when you said that. He’d been horny since he saw you in that bikini but had to compose himself since you both were looking forward to swimming in the pool. But now that you’d gotten your swim time in, nothing was stopping him.

He slowly pressed you against the wall of the pool and kissed his way up your neck right up to your sweet spot.

“Joe,” you moaned out.

“What baby?” He asked, knowing exactly what you wanted.

“I need you,” you whined.

He looked at you momentarily before lifting you out of the pool and rushing you inside to the large bedroom. You let out a squeal as he pushed you back onto the bed. Joe climbed over you and situated his body in between your thighs, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. You stayed kissing each other for a few minutes before you felt something hard poke at your stomach.

“Getting eager now aren’t we,” you tease.

“Please, I’ve been waiting to get you in this bed since I saw you in this bikini,” he grinned.

“Then I suggest you do something about it,” you replied.

Joe smiled and started to untie the strands of your bikini top before tossing it to the side. He kissed his way down to your perfect breasts, swirling his lips around your sensitive bud which caused you to let out a breathy moan.

“Joe,” you moaned out while shoving your hands in his hair.

He spent a few moments sucking on your breasts before he continued his way down. He pressed a few sloppy kisses on your stomach before eventually making his way down to where you needed him the most. He slowly peeled off your bottoms which was driving you insane.

“Joe please,” you whined out.

“Patience is key, baby,” he teased.

He threw your bottoms to the side as he made his way back up to your heat. “You’re so wet,” he says while ghosting his fingers over your folds.

“Joe I swear to god-,” You suddenly felt his warm tongue lapping at your folds which caused you to let out another moan, “Ohh Fuck”.

He buried his warm tongue inside your core as he continued to eat you out like a starved man. He moved one of his hands up to cup your breast as the other was firmly on your thigh. Joe moved up and started to rhythmically suck on your clit which made you see stars; something which he made you see often. “Joey, fuck don’t stop,” you said breathlessly.

“You like that?” he chuckled against your core, sending vibrations throughout your body. Those 3 words always managed to get you more horny than you already were. "Yeah," you whispered.

He went back to lapping at your folds as he used his thumb to rub your clit. The combination of his mouth and fingers was sending you over the edge. You started to arch your back which caused you to lift your hips slightly but Joe pushed them back down as he continued to send you into a frenzy. You fisted your hands into his hair and started to pull on the loose curls which caused Joe to let out a soft moan against you.

“Joe I’m so close,” you whispered as you pushed his head closer to your core. You felt a familiar warmth in your belly as you were moaning Joe’s name out (which was driving him insane). Joe thrusted one of his fingers into you, causing the imaginary rubber band in your lower belly to snap; feeling a familiar gush of liquid pool below you. You were overcome with a feeling of pure pleasure and satisfaction as he cleaned up your mess with his skillful mouth. He pressed delicate kisses on the insides of your thighs before moving back up and pushing his lips against yours again.

“You’re so hot,” he said in between kisses.

You felt a blush creep up on your face. “I’m flattered Mr. Burrow, but have you seen yourself”.

“Shut up,” he chuckled before going back to kissing you. You stopped kissing him after a few moments and said “Joe, I need you inside me.”

“Your wish is my command babe,” he replied as he pulled down his swim trunks and threw them to the side. His cock was rock hard and the sight of it had you sizzling with anticipation.

Your core was slick with your arousal which made it easy for him to push his dick into you. The tip slowly teasing your folds before he buries himself inside of you, causing you to let out a loud moan. You will never get tired of the feeling of him inside you.

He started slowly thrusting into you which made you wrap your legs around him, wanting him deeper asap.

“Joe, Fuck,” you moaned out. “Faster baby,”.

He began snapping his hips against you, faster & harder than before. “God, you feel so good Y/N,” he moaned out. You brought him in for another kiss, this time quick, messy, and sloppy. He continued thrusting into you and you bucked your hips each time to match his movements. The sound of your arousal and skin-hitting skin filled the room as you two were caught up in the euphoria that was happening between you.

Joe buried his face into your neck, sucking on your sweet spot, as your hands found themselves in his hair again. You were on Cloud 9 right now and it was all because of him.

“Joe, don’t stop. Shit, you feel too good,” you moaned. You felt him move deeper inside of you as he repeatedly hit your cervix.

He continued to pound into you, making you feel like nothing else mattered but this moment. You both felt your arousal building up, begging to be released.

“Fuck Y/N, I’m close,” he panted as he slowed down.

“Me too,” you whimpered.

He picked up the pace of his thrusts once again, this time moving one of his hands down to your heat, toying with your clit. “Fuck,” you moaned out for what seemed like the hundredth time. “I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered. You felt your walls clench around him, signaling you were almost there. Joe felt you clench around him and pinched your clit which set off your orgasm. Your chest heaved up and down as you whimpered out his name while seeing stars again. He continued to thrust into you, chasing his pleasure.

“Y/N,” Joe moaned out. You knew he was close by the way his thrusts started to become sporadic.

“Come on baby,” you encouraged while pulling at his hair and kissing his neck.

After a few rough thrusts, Joe let out a loud moan as you felt hot spurts of his cum fill you up. He collapsed on top of you as you both panted, needing a moment to recover after the workout you two just had. You moved one of your hands to his back, softly sliding it up and down to help him relax.

“I love you,” he softly said as he kissed your cheek, making you smile.

“I love you more,” you whisper in his ear as he buries his face into your neck again.

The next day

The next morning was pretty chill for you both. You had breakfast at the local beachside cafe, stuffing your faces with delicious fresh fruit from the island before embarking on a pleasant morning walk on the beach.

“This is nice,” Joe says as you both walk hand in hand alongside the water, a content look on his face.

You look up at him and smile, “Very nice,” you giggle. “Although, I don’t know how you’re not uncomfortable with walking on the beach in shoes,” you question while looking at your bare feet and then his shoes.

“You never know when a crab might come up and pinch your toes,” he says with a straight face.

“Righhhht,” you say while relishing the feeling of sand between your toes.

“So, what should we do today? We pretty much have the whole day since we’re cooking at home tonight,” he says while squeezing your hand.

“Hmmm,” you wonder for a second. “We could go out on one of the boats?” you carefully question while looking up at your fiancee.

Joe did not like going on boats. He hated the idea of being out on the open water with no way of getting back to shore other than using the boat. He always questioned what you would do if the boat broke down or even started sinking. You always told him the sinking part was highly unlikely, but you blamed yourself for that worry because you’ve made him watch Titanic with you one too many times. He also didn’t like how you couldn’t see what was in the water. But lucky for you, the water in the Bahamas was crystal clear.

He stayed silent for a few moments, making you a little sad since you wanted to experience something new with him.

“Let’s do it,” he says while flashing you a smile.

You looked up at him, a little surprised. “Really?” you beam.

“Yes, now let’s go before I change my mind,” he says before stopping to pick you up. He doesn’t give you a moment to respond because he throws you over his shoulders causing you to let out a squeal. He leads you both back to the house so you can get freshened up.

You both got changed into your swimsuits before walking over to the docks and renting a boat for the day. You weren’t sure how you managed to get Joe to go on the boat, but you certainly were not complaining.

The driver had taken the boat not too far from shore, which kept Joe’s mind at ease. You swam in the water for a little bit and enjoyed a few drinks.

“Mmm, this like the best Mai Tai I’ve ever had,” you say while taking another sip. Joe was currently in the water in front of you, while you were seated on the steps of the boat, legs partially in the water.

“Come in the water,” Joe says while splashing some water onto you.

“Mmm, I think I’m good up here,” you tease while placing your drink to the side.

Joe swam closer to you and said “Nope.”

You were confused at what he meant but then you felt his wet hand wrap around your wrist.

“Joe, don’t even think about it,” you playfully growled, knowing exactly what he was about to do. He didn’t listen and pulled you into the water, causing a big splash. You came back up to the surface with a frown.

“Someone’s mad,” Joe laughs. You swim over to him while he is fully anticipating an ass-kicking but is pleasantly surprised when you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss his cheek.

You laugh and say, “If this is mad, let me be mad more often,”.

A few hours pass and you both are sitting on the boat in the net seating area that was right above the water. Joe had put on one of his many bucket hats and shades and was laid flat against the net, soaking in the golden sun. You were applying another layer of sunscreen before noticing his chest turning red. You knew he’d be a pain in the ass if he got sunburnt so you took the bottle and moved closer to him.

You squeezed out a dab of sunscreen and started applying it to his chest. He flinched at the sudden contact before realizing it was just you.

You felt him flinch and laughed, “Daydreaming, Burrow?”.

“Maybe,” he smiles while taking off his shades. He looks down and sees you applying sunscreen on him, “Oh, thanks,” he says while meeting your eyes.

You let out a playful sigh and say, “What would you do without me,”.

“For real,” he says. “I’d be walking around like a tomato,” he laughs.

After applying the rest of the sunscreen, you lay back against the net and Joe lifts one of his arms, motioning for you to curl up next to him. He rests his hand on the small of your back while you tangle your legs with his.

You lay there briefly, soaking up the perfect scene before breaking the silence. “Are you enjoying this? I know boats aren’t really your thing and I hope I didn’t force you into this,” you softly say.

“Of course, I’m enjoying this. I will admit, I was a little nervy when getting on but you’re here with me so I’m fine. Besides, If the boat breaks down at least we’d be stranded together,” he jokes.

“I guess that’s true. Better than being stranded with a bunch of randos too. I’m glad we could get a boat just for the two of us,” you reply.

“Yup. This isn’t as bad as I thought. I can see everything below us too so no risk of a random shark popping out,” he deadpans.

“Like that would actually happen,” you say while softly hitting his chest.

“You never know,” he says while shaking your shoulder in an attempt to scare you.

You spent a few minutes messing around with each other before the driver came out to tell you that you were heading back to the island. You both got up and sat on the bench, your back pressed into Joe’s chest and stared out into the open waters, taking in the view before it was time to go back. You were mindlessly sliding your hand along Joe’s leg while he had his arms around your waist, gently squeezing your soft skin. Everything about this moment was peaceful. Joe felt at ease for the first time in a long time and he had his favorite person to thank for it.

Once you got back to the house, you both took a nice shared shower before starting your dinner prep. Before arriving at the house yesterday, you had stopped at the local market to pick up some groceries.

“So, what are we making tonight,” Joe asked as he sat down on one of the barstools.

“I was thinking of shrimp-avocado tostadas and some of that wine we picked up yesterday?”

“Sounds delicious,” he said while rubbing his belly.

You let Joe fry the tortillas and make the avocado mixture while you cooked the shrimp and assembled the tostadas. While you were assembling the dish, Joe found a few candles in the cabinet and got an idea. He went outside to the backyard and set up the candles on one of the patio tables, setting the scene for a nice sunset dinner. He picked out a few flowers from the front of the house and put them in a vase to use as a centerpiece. He then poured the wine into 2 glasses, setting one on each side.

You had finished plating the tostadas and didn’t see Joe anywhere. “Joe? Where are you,” you yelled out.

“Out here! Bring the plates outside,” he yelled back.

You were a little confused but went along with it. You walked outside with your dinner and saw Joe setting the table and your heart melted.

“Joe, this is so romantic,” you cooed while putting the plates on the table.

He gave you a warm smile before pulling out one of the chairs for you to sit in. You sat down as he settled into the chair across from you. You both devoured the tostadas while making small talk about your plans for tomorrow. After you finished eating, Joe took the plates and set them inside; he suggested you both finish up your wine on the daybed since you would get a comfier view of the sky.

Later that night, per your suggestion, you and Joe were sitting in the bathtub surrounded by bubbles and a few candles. You felt so relaxed even though you’d only been here for 2 days, and it was all because of Joe.

“I’m glad we finally get to have ‘us’ time,” Joe says while rubbing your thigh under the water. “I missed just being able to sit with you and do nothing. This past month felt so repetitive, I feel like we barely saw each other,”

“Me too. We needed this,” you said as you pressed yourself into his chest a little more. Your back was to his chest and both your legs were tangled under the water. This was your favorite position; the warmth radiating off of his body felt like a big hug.

“Thank you for doing this by the way,” you add.

“Doing what?” He questioned.

“This trip. I needed it more than I thought I did. Getting away from home and the change of environment was much needed. I think if I stayed in Ohio for another day I might have spontaneously exploded,” you joked, causing him to let out a soft chuckle.

“Anytime,” he replied while kissing the nape of your neck.

“Do you feel better?” You asked. “I hope you were able to get your mind off of things. Your stuff was a lot heavier than mine,”

He lets out a content sigh and says, “Actually, yeah I do feel better. I think I just needed to get out of the chaos and get out of my head. This trip has helped me decompress and realize that not everything has to be so stuffy all the time,” Joe says.

“Exactly,” you chirp as you lean your head back to place a kiss on his neck.

“I can’t do anything about what people are saying, they’ll always talk. But what I can do is work hard to get back to where I’m supposed to be. And I won’t be able to get there if I’m constantly pressuring myself,” he says. “Letting loose and having fun is a part of that journey. I need that balance,” he adds.

“And this is a great start,” you say while smiling up at Joe

“Yes it is,” Joe says while pressing another kiss to your forehead.

You both had spent the rest of the night talking about the rest of your exciting activities planned for the final 2 days of the trip. You even talked about a few fun things you could do around Cincinnati when you get back home so that you could keep the work-life balance that you both so desperately needed.

“This impromptu vacation might have been the best idea you’ve had so far,” you tell Joe as you both are about to fall asleep.

“We should get away more often,” Joe grins.

--The End--

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fic #joeburrow #joe burrow imagine #nfl imagine

427 notes · View notes

damn-stark · 4 months ago

Text

Chapter 23 Mother I’m tired

Chapter 23 of Moonlight

A/N- Daemon you big softy

Warning- swearing, some violence, talks of pregnancy and blood, angst!!, fluff!!!, SPOILERS FOR FUTURE EVENTS OF HOTD, USING FIRE AND BLOOD, long chapter.

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader, Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader

Episode/Pages- 463-465

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

“Dear Princess,

I hope this finds you well.

Well, actually, I hope this finds you at all—

You scoff in amusement and muster a faint smile.

—We're separated by two different sides of this war so I find writing to you quite difficult, but if you ever find yourself back with your mother you’ll read this and know that you’re on my mind with every step I take throughout this relentless war.

The truth is I want rid of you. You are a married woman and no matter how much I desire the death of your perfect husband, life is cruel and may spit in the face of my desires. It already stomped on it when you had to leave to marry him, so it may pierce its hateful blade in my heart and hurt me even more so.

Alas even if I know I’m in world pain clinging onto a fragment of hope that fate will unite us for the rest of our lives, I still hope. I still wait for any word from you, or about you like a hopeless fool. Which is why when I got the message you sent with the brother from the Night’s Watch, my breath got caught. I’m gladdened by the fact that you’re doing okay, I hope it is true, words from the mouths of others can only assure me so much, and I know you too, I know the mask you put on in front of the masses.

Then again I suppose it’s necessary for people like us, now more than ever, but that is why I hope that you continue to be okay. Or really as okay as one can be after losing so much.

I am sorry, darling. My heart and my thoughts are with you. I know how much you loved your brother. He was a great and honorable man—

No matter how much you wanted to hold back, tears break out of your eyes and pour down your face, staining the silks that cover your pillows. Tears that come from a deep and great sorrow that you have refused to feel since Jacaerys death, but bombard you now over old words from a man you adore. Because of course he out of everyone you know can break the shell that shielded you from feeling deep and heavy grief that you didn’t want to feel.

And why would you want to feel it? You had already endured so much pain, why would you want to deal with a much greater one? One you could possibly never recover from?

But he made you feel it. Him, and being back with your family made you feel all the hurt.

Ever since you’ve stepped foot in King’s Landing all you have felt is a great and paralyzing depression. Ever since you fell into bed it seems like you can’t will yourself to get out of it, or will yourself to get even a short nap. You’re just awake staring at the ceiling thinking about who you lost and who you love. It’s as if being with Aemond, being away from all that reminds you of who you can’t see anymore helped you avoid the pain, but now that you’re away from Aemond and away from any excuse to distract yourself, the pain has increased tenfold.

It makes you want to stop reading the letter to at least avoid feeling a sliver of pain even though you have already been hit with stormy wave after stormy wave with no clearing in sight.

Then again how can you stop mid-way when he took time to write to you and took a risk for him and yourself?

—He did not deserve the fate he got. He deserved a good and long life, I believe that and I am sorry he didn’t get it. I’m sorry you had to watch him take his last breath, but then again I’m sure he wouldn’t have wanted anyone else by his side. He loved you, I saw that. He cared deeply for you, I saw that too. Jacaerys loved you, I hope you know that darling.

Just like I hope you know that I wish I could relate to your pain, it would make your suffering a little less, but I can’t even fathom your pain. Even still I want to try, please let me try. Don't isolate yourself, please. If not me, confide in someone else, I just don’t wish you to be alone, okay?

With that said I do hope you keep making a name for yourself, My Princess.

I hope that fate puts us on the same side so we can fight side by side, that would be the greatest honor of my life.

Until then, or until we win this war.

Cregan.”

More tears stream down the curve of your cheeks, tears that bring out sob after sob and choke you up until you have to bring yourself to a stop to catch your breath.

After that, when you can find a way to stop, you stay in bed and Vanessa lets you, giving you space to wallow in your sorrow even though she worries. She tries to get you to eat, but a bite is all you take, choosing instead to lay back in bed with the balcony door and every window open, welcoming in the brisk autumn air that blows the curtains inwards and only makes you snuggle deeper in your blankets as the flowing curtains blow in all around you.

Vanessa thought the letter from Cregan would lift your spirits, but it only worked to sink you deeper, to the point she feels helpless on how to help you at least get up and get dressed or to at least go visit Helaena since she oftentimes finds a way to make you smile without as much as trying.

She almost finds herself thinking that Aemond is the solution. Yet even if he is, he could never join your side to console you, so she has to make your mother your solution. She needs you to make up because it’s something she knows you both desperately need. After all, she’s seen how much your mother has missed you, and she oftentimes finds her carrying one of your rings, or an object that reminds her of you since she doesn’t have you. So she knows you both need each other more than you both can say with words or simple aching looks.

Nevertheless, just as she tries to leave the room to go find the Queen, a knock raps on the door, piquing your interest.

“Come,” you welcome the visitor and push yourself to sit up as the visitor opens the door and reveals that it’s Rhaena and Baela.

“Cousin…” Baela’s greeting trails off as she sees you still in your nightgown. “You missed breakfast,” she says so slowly as she shares a worried glance with Rhaena that you miss since your attention drifts to Ser Jason.

“Ser please come in,” you order, making him stiffen and look at Vanessa with confusion before he very slowly and awkwardly makes his way inside whilst you finally get out of bed.

“It's cold in here,” Rhaena points out as she studies you and is quicker to make out why you’re caught under such a gloomy spell. “Let me close the windows and the balcony door.”

You pass her a mindless hum and meet Ser Jason halfway to study his neck right away, finding the bruises Aemond left him less prominent, but still marked on his skin.

“How’s your head?” You ask as you let your fingers hover over the bruise, causing him to swallow back nervously.

“Uh, I-it’s fine,” he stammers as his eyes are glued to you. “It doesn’t hurt anymore. Spending my time in the cell at Harrenhal let me heal without strain.”

You meet his gaze with concern and let your hand fall on his shoulder, which he follows and keeps watching.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him softly. “He…” you trail off and can’t find it in yourself to say that Aemond didn’t mean to because deep inside you know he did. You can’t defend what he did. “He hurt you, and I know that you’re going to say it means nothing, but you are my sworn protector, not his. He shouldn’t have treated you like that, I’m sorry.”

Ser Jason quickly parts his lips but just as he draws in a breath to retort, he doesn’t, instead he drops his gaze and says, “thank you.”

He then proceeds to lift his gaze to your belly and frowns. “Are you alright? Alys said you had a scrape on your side.”

You breathe out deeply and nod. “I’m fine. It was just a stumble.”

“You fell?” Baela blurts, bringing a tense silence to the room that you don’t fill and don’t want Ser Jason to fill, but alas, he does.

“Prince Aemond pushed her.”

You shoot him a threatening glare, but he doesn’t falter. He’s proud.

“He did what?” Rhaena snaps and steps forward. “When? Why?”

“Is that why you left?” Baela bounces off her sister.

“You said you caught yourself on something,” Vanessa also adds her two cents, making you clench your jaw before you rebuttal.

“It was an accident,” you defend yourself but Baela cuts in.

“That’s what they all say. Where is he?”

You shake your head and quickly interject. “No, it was. Harrenhal…has a way of playing tricks on one’s mind. He wasn’t himself. He would never hurt me. Never.”

Baela scoffs and rolls her eyes and just before she can argue Rhaena clutches onto her arm and gives her a warning squeeze that makes her keep her mouth shut.

“I’m fine,” you assure all three women. “And the twins are fine, so please leave it be.”

Baela draws in a breath to argue, but alas Rhaena forces her to stay quiet, letting you return your attention to Ser Jason.

“If you need it, rest, alright?” You cut the conversation short since he found a way to annoy you. “Thank you, Ser.”

He bows his head and turns around on his heels to walk off, making Vanessa do the same to leave you be with your cousins. Yet once you are alone you ruminate in a tense silence that no one can find a way to break.

You all get closer to each other but the silence lingers and mingles for a while until Rhaena is the first one to break the silence. “Are you okay?” She directs at you.

You spare her a glance and nod. “Yes, I am. It was just a scrape.”

“No,” she quickly counters. “I mean are you okay?”

There’s no need for clarification, you realize she’s referring to the puffy eyes, the nightgown you still sport, the unmade bed, and the untouched breakfast Vanessa left in hopes you would finish.

“I,” your voice trembles. “I will be. I think. I just…I miss Jacaerys,” you let yourself say out loud for the first time, causing tears to well up in your eyes and start to sting in both Baela and Rhaena’s eyes since they too feel the same way—“I really miss my brother,” you add with a quiver in your voice, making Baela nod softly before she interjects with a crack in her voice.

“Me too.”

You meet her gaze and hold it, finding the same grief in her eyes and in the eyes of Rhaena.

You all share the same grief and now that you all know and see that you all feel the same way, you mindlessly come together and embrace, finding a sense of relief in your shared grief, in the shared tears you all shed, in the warmth of your embrace, and in your beating hearts thumping in sync against each other.

For so long the grief you held was shoved back. You were more mad than sad for so long, and even if you had wanted to be sad one day, you would have cried by yourself when you wanted to be comforted because Aemond would never get it. He hated your brothers, he hated what and who they were. He would have hugged you if you asked, he would kiss your head and rub your back, but you wouldn’t share the grief you share with the girls now. You would have grieved alone in the arms of the man you loved while he probably thought Jacaerys death was good riddance.

Not Baela or Rhaena though. You all understand each other and genuinely comfort each other in the silence that stays until you break it with a question you can’t hold back. “You’re not mad at me, are you? For leaving?”

You would ask if they’re mad at what you’ve done to House Strong and to support Aemond, but you wouldn’t care if they were because it’s not something that you give any doubting thought to. It happened and it’s in the past. All you care about is if they’re still mad that you left.

“No,” Rhaena reassures you, and then Baela adds her own thoughts.

“Not anymore.”

You chuckle softly and pull away to share a very faint but relieved smile. “I’m happy to be with you two again.”

Rhaena grabs your shoulder and offers you a much sweeter smile. “I’m happy you’re back where you belong too.”

Baela hums in agreement before her smile widens. “Why don’t we help you get ready for the day, hm? Get you out of your nightgown so you may feel better.”

You scoff but can’t help but let them do what they please, finding yourself enjoying the moment. It’s like a clearing in the dark storm, especially when Aerion is brought to you and joins you and the girls.

Yet a small clearing is all it is, a beam of light that breaks through the dark clouds but doesn’t rid the storm. The storm still swirls and keeps your mind and spirit dim. You still want to sulk in your bed and not do a single thing, but alas you’re distracted and thankful for it.

A part of you forgets the war happening past the city. You’re making a sweet memory with your cousins and live in the obliviousness for a short moment until the door opens and your mother walks in, bringing in the reminder of the travesty of war.

“Ma!” Aerion exclaims and grins as he points at your mother making her way into the room. “Ma!”

Your lips twitch to a smile at the reaction your son gives your mother, and you can’t help but press a gentle kiss on the back of his head before you look at your mother with a fading smile and growing concern.

“Your Grace,” Rhaena, Baela, and you greet your mother, bringing a short smile to her face before she directs her attention at just you.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” she interjects as she comes to a stop a few feet before you.

“No, we’re done,” Baela responds. “We wanted to braid her hair but we left it for later so we didn’t take up her entire day.”

Your mother hums in comprehension and lets out a deep breath before she continues. “Then I hope you don’t mind that I steal the princess from your company.”

“Of course not,” Rhaena doesn’t hesitate, bringing an awkward smile to your lips—“I can take Aerion,” she adds and doesn’t linger back before she walks over and takes your son from you. Which he doesn’t mind, he goes willingly and passes your mother a happy smile.

“We’ll see you later,” Baela directs at you and then turns to your mother to curtsy before she follows Rhaena out, leaving you and your mother alone in your chambers that is riddled with a very deafening silence that neither of you know how to break. Should you linger in the silence until the tension leaves? Or just break it altogether?

What should you say first?

There’s so much you need to say—

“You look well in silver and black,” your mother breaks the silence, drifting your gaze to her and then back to your gown to stroke over the wrinkles.

“Thank you,” you respond softly and blink to slowly look back up at her, finding one of your rings attached to a gold necklace around her neck but not daring to comment on it.

“Could you accompany me to where we keep Balerion’s skull?” She finally starts to clue you in as to why she’s here, making you nod softly in agreement before following her out of your chambers and toward your destination, ending up in another deafening silence that lasts longer than before.

“I hope you don’t mind that I let Alicent see Aerion every day at dinner time,” your mother brings up, answering that certain question that you had in mind. “She requested spending time with him and she’s behaved so I let her. I hope that’s alright with you.”

You quickly respond with a nod and then follow up with a reassuring response. “Of course, that’s fine, after all, she’s also his grandmother and regardless of how she’s behaved with me she does treat him well and loves him. Besides, he loves her to bits, so I know he loves spending his time with her.”

Your mother scoffs. “That’s perhaps one of the only redeemable things about her,” she adds. “She loves her grandchildren and seems to treat them far better than she does her children.”

You hum and add an agreeing statement. “Yes, I agree.”

Silence follows after that and accompanies you the entire way to where Balerion’s skull is kept. Even when you come to a stop before the skull of the great dragon, the silence lingers with neither of you knowing what to say first. You just watch the flames dancing on the candles that surround the skull until a candle sitting in front of you dies, letting the smoke rise in an attempt to touch the high ceiling.

“Is it true that you are immune to fire?” Your mother finally asks something she’s been anticipating asking since the first whisper was heard.

“Uh, yes,” you give her a clear answer and avert your gaze. “I…didn’t mean to keep it a secret, I just…wanted to know what I was exactly before I told anyone.”

“The books,” your mother whispers as she shares the dots she connected some time ago. “That’s why you wanted to know about our histories.”

You nod gently. “Yes, but they contained nothing useful,” you say and slowly meet her gaze, finding her eyes full of wonder before they’re stricken with a flicker of sadness.

“I’m sorry I did not know before,” she interjects and glances at one of the dancing flames. “I should have. I’m your mother.”

You shift closer to her and tilt your head to the side to find her gaze and quickly console her. “No, I only recently found out myself. I would have told you. You would be the first person I would have told, but I was scared of what I was. I thought I was some curse, some demon,” you pause and can’t help but smile at the irony of that word because now you embrace such a name. But alas your smile then fades and your face returns to your previous expression. “I have learned to embrace it now though. Watch…” you trail off and lift your hand to tug the sleeve down and then put your fingers in the small candlelight.

Your mother gasps out of instinct, but when you don’t flinch and your flesh doesn’t burn, an awestruck breath gets caught in her throat whilst her eyes glimmer with the same awe.

“The Smallfolk only got to spread what I am because…I burnt a house down,” you admit with some embarrassment. “And Aemond, well he caught me, but it was actually such a relief for him to know…” you trail off and pull your hand back, letting your sleeve fall back in place.

“He made me feel seen and understood, he continued to love me for it and made me feel strong and untouchable…until…all it came to that day at the Gullet,” you didn’t mean to take the conversation to such a dark place, but you couldn’t help it. You can’t help the feelings you’re hit with, and you can’t stop them either. You don’t even try now, not now, not here because you’re with her, your own weakness that lets you let go of this invincible person that you want everyone to know you by as the moment slowly embraces you with a comfort you ached to feel.

“I left the moment I found out what was transcending,” you continue and look at the candlelight before you, unknowingly bringing light to your guilt and grief that rolls in like an angry wave—“I only stopped once to fix my armor but I continued after that and I was still…I was,” you stammer as a thick ball of emotions start to form in your throat. “I was still late. I tried to be there on time.” You nod and snap your watery gaze at her, seeing that her own eyes are starting to water.

“I did. I tried to help him. I got him out of the water, but I-I couldn’t save him, but I tried. You have to believe that I did. You have to believe I wanted to find Viserys. I would never hurt them, mama,” you cry and clutch onto your own hands to plead with all that you are. “I tried so hard. I did. I did. Mama, you have to believe me.”

Tears break out of your mother's eyes and her heart, what little is left, breaks for you, for the way you break down and beg her to believe you even though she never ever blamed you for a thing, or even thought that you had something to do with what happened at the Gullet. It’s why it’s easy for her to finally close that space between you and grab ahold of your face.

“I-I,” you can’t even continue because your tears are choking you and making it hard to breathe.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she says words you barely believe but don’t take for granted. It’s like music to your wounded soul. “And I never thought it was. You tried, I know that. I heard it, and I appreciate it with every inch of my heart.”

“You do?” You question her, making her nod gently with a wobbly smile before she slides her hands down to grab your shoulders first and then slide them back to pull you in for an embrace that makes you stiffen and question if it’s real.

For so long you thought you would never feel her embrace, for so long you thought she turned her back on you, and for so long have you been mad at her. So now that you feel her arms wrapped around you, keeping you protected against her, you’re caught in disbelief.

“Mama,” you mewl, and after you realize that she really is hugging you and that it really is given with so much love, you return her embrace with a tight hold. “I…really miss them.”

Your mother nods in agreement and her shoulders shake as she does, letting you know with that alone that you’re sharing the same grief. You’re estranged souls finally connect and comfort each other in your sorrow. You only break the moment so you can pull back and continue sharing what you need to tell her.

“I’m sorry I left. I’m sorry I yelled at you. I’m sorry I have been such a bad daughter. I’m sorry.”

Your mother draws in shaky breath before she shakes her head and breathes out so she can share what has been weighing her down too. “The fault is not on you alone. I have some blame too. I should have told you about your father, I trust you, he trusted you and I should have not kept that from you out of all people. I’m sorry I did, and you have every right to be mad at me for it.”

“No,” you cut in and bring your hands down to hold hers. “No. I'm not mad anymore. I forgive you, I do.”

A smile twitches on her lips but she’s far from feeling content so she continues. “And I’m sorry it made you feel the way it did. You, My Love, are loved beyond measure. Your father and I,” she says and strokes your cheek. “Have loved you since we found out we were expecting you. You are my first love and my strength. I love you in more ways than I could ever put into words.”

Tears accompany her words, making you lift your hands to wipe them off her cheeks as you cry too.

“I love you my Sweet girl. I love you so much. I could never forsake you, never. You need to know that, you need to remember that,” she presses, causing you to let out a sob as you nod in comprehension.

“I love you too mama,” you muster between sobs. “I know I don’t say it as much as I should, but I do. I Iove you.”

She grins before she presses her forehead against yours and leaves you both finding comfort in your silence and in your presence until your tears dry and your breaths don’t shutter anymore.

“Besides apologizing, I also came to tell you something else,” your mother fills the silence, piquing your curiosity even though you have a clue as to where she’s heading.

“It's a choice that I should have always chosen since the beginning but I let myself get controlled by the men around me,” she continues and grabs your hands firmly. “But I am Queen now. Things are as I say and no one will change my mind or manipulate my choice. I want you to be my heir.”

There it is, right in your reach, all you ever wanted. At long last.

No more wishing, no more questioning what and who you are. You will be heir now. You will be Queen. It’s all you ever wanted and as every word echoes in your head, and you realize that your desires are finally becoming true, you are fascinated by the proposal, by the idea that will no longer just live in your head. It will be real and how can you not be fascinated? How can you be anything but happy and proud?

You’re taken by the moment, by the joy of it all that you’re blinded by your bliss and can’t think of anything else. Not there, not yet.

“Okay,” you whisper with a sweet smile. “I will be your heir.”

Your mother grins and cups your cheek to caress it.

“But what of Aegon and Joffrey? Won’t daemon be upset that you’re picking me over Aegon?” You can’t help but ask, making her scoff as she brings her hands down to grab yours.

“No, we talked about it. He doesn’t mind. He…cares about you, you know? In his own way,” she says, making you scrunch your nose—“just…try and be friendly. He’s really turned over a new leaf. He wants to try.”

You hold her gaze with disgust, but he also didn’t do what you thought he did so you perhaps have judged him too harshly, so it wouldn't hurt to try. For her though! Only because she wants you to.

“Alright,” you reassure her and make her eyes glimmer with joy. “And before we go,” she continues. “There’s something else. Something that I need to pass down to you now that you’re my heir.”

Your eyebrows pinch together and you wait in silence for her to answer your curiosity.

“It’s about a prophecy passed down from ruler to heir since the reign of Aegon the Conqueror. It's a prophecy about the Prince that was Promised—”

“They will help defeat the dead that comes with a long winter,” you cut in after you recognize that famous name, causing your mother's eyes to widen with shock—“Yes, I have heard of them. We must help her, we must light the way for her.”

Your mother’s eyebrows furrow in confusion before she expresses it. “How do you know?”

You glance down for a brief second and scoff softly. “Friends. A red priestess, and Alys, a witch friend who resides at Harrenhal.”

Your mother huffs. “So you know her too? Daemon knows her too.”

You meet her gaze and flash her an amused smile. “She’s great, she helped me. And she let me see the Prince that was Promised. It’s why we need to win this war.”

Your mother nods. “Yes, we can only defeat the dead if the realm is united. It’s why our victory is dire. We need to do what we must to guarantee our blood continues so there’s hope in the future.”

You swallow nervously as you know what she’s referring to when she says, ‘we need to do what we must’. You know she’s referring to Aemond when says those words, and knowing it makes your chest heavy.

No matter what happened, regardless of why you left, you…still love him.

“I know,” you whisper and avert your gaze for a second before you meet hers again and offer her a faint assuring smile. “I know what we need to do.”

Your mother draws in a deep breath and holds your gaze with pity for a second before she nods and leans in to press a kiss on your head.

“Get ready for dinner later, okay? I want you to meet the dragon riders and I want to present you as my heir,” she lets you know in which you can’t help but nod in comprehension before you bring up one last thing.

“May I invite Helaena to dinner? I know she’s your prisoner but she's also your sister, and besides my aunt, she is very dear to me, so may I invite her to dinner?” You ask and bat your lashes, causing your mother to sigh even though she wasn’t going to choose anything else but to agree with you.

“Thank you.”

Now with the apologies and the unspoken words that were hidden in the depths of your souls, and shared out loud and over with, you then make your way to Helaena before you can return to your quarters.

“Helaena, sweetling it’s me, may I come in?” You speak against the door, and not so long later a voice echoes.

“Come.”

The guards open the doors for you, letting you be greeted with the sight of not only Helaena but Alicent in golden chains that are clasped around her ankles and wrists.

“Helaena,” you greet her as you rip your eyes from Alicent to look at your aunt with a warm smile whilst she quickly gets up from her cushioned seat in front of some insect cages and meets you halfway to grab your arms.

“I knew you would return,” she whispers, making you grab her elbows.

“It's good to see you again,” you say back before you step back, letting her study your belly.

“Look at you,” she points out and pats your belly. “So big.”

You grin and nod before your face falls as you bring up her situation. “Are you okay? Have they been treating you well?”

Helaena nods before stepping back and then returning to where she was. “Yes. I’m not allowed to see Dreamfyre, but I can roam the Red Keep, and stay in the gardens as much as I like. And Daemon has been kind as well.”

Daemon?

You look at her with confusion before you share your emotions with Alicent with a shared glance, and then address her only because you have to. “Alicent,” you bow your head and then look at the little girl reading by the fire. “Jaehaera.”

Said girl lifts her eyes off her book and flashes you a grin. “Hello! You returned!”

You nod and head over to her. “I have and you have gotten bigger it seems.”

She nods eagerly. “Yes! I grew an inch, mother says!”

You grin. “I see that. I hope Aerion has been well-behaved. You have watched out for him have you?”

“Yes,” she agrees. “I try, but he always wants to be with grandmother. But she does let me help her feed him. The only bad thing is that he always gets messy.” She pouts and stands up to put her little hand on your belly. “I suppose if you have girls they won’t be so messy.”

You giggle. “All babies are messy at one point. You were too.”

“Was I?!” She exclaims giddly. “I do not remember, but then if my cousins are girls will they play dolls with me when they’re older? Grandmother says Aerion will have to train with swords and sailing instead of playing with dolls.”

Considering she'll probably phase out of playing with dolls when the twins are old enough to play with her you don’t think so, but you don’t want to break her little heart so you let her hear what she wants. “If they’re girls I’m sure they will, but I’m sure you and Aerion can bond over dragons when he’s old enough, hm? Or books like me and your uncle Aemond.”

She shakes her head with a disgusted face. “That would be boring.” She retorts, making you snort and get reminded of her father as she makes that facial expression.

“Well, dragons it is then.”

“They’ll be the same age!” She points out and you nod in agreement.

Jaehaera then slides her hand off your belly and falls back in her cushion, letting you make your way back to Helaena, but addressing Alicent. “I hope you are well.”

She looks at her chains and then meets your gaze and mutters. “At least I can be with my family.”

You have so much that comes to the tip of your tongue but you manage to bite your tongue to avoid arguing.

“You and the twins?” Alicent asks.

You caress your belly and nod softly. “We’re fine. Healthy.”

Alicent’s gaze drifts to one of Helaena’s insect cages and hesitantly brings up a question. “And Aemond? If you’re here then that means something is wrong.”

You sigh and hesitate before you give her a curt answer. “He’s not hurt, he just seems to be descending into something that’s gotten out of control.”

Alicent nods stiffly as she blinks repeatedly and doesn’t answer, letting you then give your attention to Helaena. “I wanted to ask if you wanted to come to dinner later. My mother wants to present me as her heir to her court at dinner so if you would like to come you’re more than welcome.”

Helaena drifts her gaze from the insect she’s inspecting and sighs deeply. “Thank you, but no. There will be people I don’t know and who will all look at me. I would not be comfortable, besides, I enjoy dinner with my mother, Jaehaera, and Aerion. You can tell me what happened on the following day,” she doesn’t try to put it nicely, she’s abrupt and unforgiving. Which doesn’t bother you, it’s just the way she is.

“Alright,” you breathe out and take a seat beside her to ask her what she’s collected, but Alicent then sits across from you and reaches over to take your arm.

“Will you not stop him?” She blurts with a widened look spewing fear and concern. “Help him? This descent into madness will only make Daemon or one of the others go after him, and we both know that Vhagar is not invincible. Not when it comes to Daemon.” She throws out desperately as she sinks her nails in your arm.

“He wants Daemon to go after him, don’t you think I have tried to warn him? To try and lead him to a different path?” You counter as you yank her hand off your arm. “I have tried,” you press with annoyance that was quick to form. “But he doesn’t listen. He wants this path because of you. The path Aegon, Daeron, and Aemond are walking down is because of you. Not me, you,” you hiss, making Alicent pull her head back as she seems to get offended and surprised at your blunt accusation.

“If you hadn’t been so hell-bent on undermining my mother my brothers would be alive and your son’s lives would not be put at risk,” you spat with your gaze narrowing as your annoyance turns to frustration that’s been building up. You don’t know why exactly, perhaps it’s just your own gloom, but you have been feeling it forming within you, wanting out but now knowing how.

“But you set them down this path, and now that it’s gotten out of control you fall to your knees and beg for mercy?” You grimace with the corner of your lip curled. “Face the reality, Alicent. Face your mistakes or—”

“So you wish to see Aemond dead?” She cuts you off abruptly and leans toward you. “Do you wish to accept that reality?”

You have given that reality much thought. It consumes you a lot of the time and you know that it’s a possibility. You would be ignorant if you didn’t, but when it comes to accepting it you do act ignorant.

“If your love for him is real, that is.”

“Of course it is!” You snap back with tears in your eyes. “I love him, how dare you throw that at my face? You out of all people?”

Alicent gasps and blinks repeatedly in disbelief as if she had been smacked across the face, ending up speechless, much like you. Albeit you’re not quiet out of shock, your anger makes you quiet and makes you pierce a glare into her before you stand up and turn to Helaena.

“I will come see you tomorrow, Helaena. Maybe we can go for a walk in the gardens, hm?” You ask and she slowly looks at you without meeting your gaze to give you her response with a nod, letting you then turn and storm out of her chambers with a tormenting ache that you thought you got rid of. At least for the rest of today, but no, Alicent helped it come back and this time it hits you with so much more force that if it wasn’t for the dinner you need to attend, it would have knocked you down, but alas even if you waver, you don’t stumble, you don’t fall, and you don’t break.

——

*LATER*

“…I intended to save this gown for after the war. When the Queen won and was crowned before the masses, but alas, you are heir and will be named heir. There’s no other time to wear this gown like now,” Vanessa rambles excitedly as she doesn’t even help you with the gown anymore, she had already helped you put it on, she is currently applying your makeup, but she can't stop talking about the gown. She’s perhaps more excited than you are that you’re wearing it. And you’re trying. You’re trying to be excited and shake off what plagues you, but you’re tormented by your own agony, your grief, your guilt, and your sorrow that you can’t forget.

But the question is why? Why do you have to feel so unhappy now that you have what you wanted? You’re no longer reaching for it, you have it in your grasp, and now that you do, now that you feel its beating heart in your grasp you can’t muster a genuine smile. You can’t feel the warmth of bliss and excitement.

You want to, you try, but no amount of strain can make you recover that initial joy you felt.

“Perfect. Beautiful,” Vanessa praises you and then pinches your cheeks before she steps back to continue admiring her work. “I just need the necklaces. I left them in the other chambers. I will be back!” She throws out and then turns to run off.

Once Vanessa is out of your chambers you slowly turn your seat and face yourself on the vanity mirror to admire the way the golden dragon scales hug your torso and stretch over your belly. You admire the multiple white pearl chains that are hooked around your hips and cascade over the lavish black silk skirt, while also connecting to more chains that strap around your black hanging sleeves that are attached to the back of the gown so it looks like your sleeves are wings when you put your arms out.

You then slowly scale your eyes up to your face and look at the light makeup that decorates your face. You admire Vanessa’s work, causing the corner of your lips to twitch to a smile, however, your eyes then catch the lipstick smudged on your bottom lip just a smidge and you carefully fix it with your fingers.

Albeit when you try to wipe the mistake more lipstick smudges, making you scoff in annoyance before you press the tip of your fingers harder against your skin and wipe harsher.

However, the smudge only worsens and the mistake doesn’t get fixed so you wipe harder and harder, feeling your throat slowly starting to burn and your eyes filling with tears until you can’t take it anymore. You can’t hold back anymore. You can’t stay strong anymore. You fall, you stumble, and you break, dragging your hands off your lips and smacking your face again and again in attempts to wipe the light layer of makeup off your face because it’s all a mistake; you being heir, holding that title after years of yearning is a mistake because there’s no point.

What’s the point? You ask yourself before you scale your hands up and tear the golden pearl circlet off your head and mindlessly smash it against the vanity mirror out of agony, out of grief, and out of guilt, thinking over and over again what is being heir worth?

What is it all worth? What is it all worth?!

What is it all worth without them? Without Jacaerys? Without Luke? What is it all worth with no one to love you? And you don’t mean in the way your family loves you, but in the intimate way that Aemond loves you? And or the way Cregan loves you?

Being heir and then being Queen, is all you wanted. You dreamt of it, wished for it, but now that you have it you can admit that it’s worth nothing. All those years of longing to be acknowledged no longer exist within you because most of you is already dead. All that’s left is what?

You look at the mirror between your fingers after hitting it and breaking it, and after pressing your bleeding hands against your face, and slowly drag your fingers down before you pull your hands off your face and look at yourself. What you see beyond the blood-stained face is someone grief-stricken, someone angry, in agony, and some hollow husk of who you used to be.

That’s who and what you are. That’s all that’s left.

You miss who you used to be, just like you miss your life before the war tore it apart. You miss your brothers and the way Aemond was before his mind spiraled. You miss Cregan, and most of all you miss…being happy. You want life to go back to the way it was.

Alas…you have to move onward…it’s a harsh truth to face but there’s no other alternative you can take.

Thus you reach over to grab a damp towel off the bowl and wipe the blood off your face, realizing that you’re only damaging the towel even more with the bleeding cuts that the shards of glass made on your palms—Damn.

Before you can get something to tend to your wounds, however, Vanessa walks in and when she sees the state of things she comes to a quick stop and looks horrified. You mirror her look out of guilt for ruining her work and speak on it because you need to. “I’m sorry,” you mutter and look at her with a look of hurt. “I’m sorry.”

Vanessa swallows back thickly and then snaps out of her stupor to approach you hastily. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” she assures you and cups your hands. “Let’s tend to your hands and do it again. We have time. It’s okay.”

You look at her in disbelief and she notices so she lifts her hand to stroke your cheek, reassuring you that she’s not really upset that you ruined her makeup but just playing it off for your sake. She’s genuine, and she’s more careful compared to before because before her eyes seemed to have been shielded since she failed to see your sadness so clearly clinging onto your face and painting such a vivid picture in your eyes.

“You look beautiful,” she speaks softly this time around once she finishes your makeup for a second time. “Eat okay? Mingle, I have found that Addam Velaryon is quite the charmer. Enjoy yourself. It’s what Jacaerys would’ve wanted.”

Your breath hitches but you don’t break, you simply nod faintly before you linger on your cushioned seat and then get up and leave, attempting as you go to get rid of the hold your sorrow has on your features and replace it with serenity and bliss so you can look grateful because you are, but usually there’s a glint of grace and arrogance in your eyes that you don’t feel ashamed for feeling, or feel ashamed to admit that you carry such feelings.

Alas, when you’re in the throne room, as your name and title are announced to the guests that turned out to be more than you thought, to your family that has turned into a small group, and to the musicians you didn’t think would play tonight, all you can muster is feigned nonchalance backed with a sadness that makes your eyes gleam against all the twinkling firelight that keeps the darkness away from the great hall.

They see you as you make your way to the main table, and you see them not even trying to feign their shock, their utter disapproval of you being able to waltz in without consequence after you sided with Aemond.

They have every right to disapprove of you, but they are not the Queen, they don’t make decisions, and they’re simply inferior. They're plebes compared to you and your family. They can shoot you as many dirty and disapproving looks as they want. They can whisper behind your back, but they have to bite their tongue and watch you sit beside the Queen as if you have been here supporting her the entire time.

“Your Grace,” you greet your mother one more time now that you’re seated. “You look very beautiful tonight.”

Your mother smiles softly and pats your hand. “As do you,” she doesn’t fail to redirect before she moves her hand down to stroke your belly before she reaches for her goblet and gets up, silencing the whispers that had already filtered the hall in such a short time.

“I would like to firstly, thank everyone for joining us tonight, it means a lot to me,” your mother addresses the guests, turning their heads and grabbing their attention. “And now I would like to present my daughter, my firstborn, and your Princess, as my heir,” she announces and looks down at you, catching your glimmering eyes expressing your appreciation and your affection. “There’s no one more graceful, more tactical, more smart, and strong as you. I’m proud of you, my girl. You will be great.”

Your eyes water, a genuine smile appears on your face, and there in your chest, you feel something jolt. “Thank you,” you whisper in such a soft way that only she and your grandfather next to you hear. She then raises her goblet and other people raise their cups, but your attention falls on a plump man overly decorated in shiny gold chains and rings and dressed in over-the-top expensive clothes.

You remember him from Dragonstone, he wanted you thrown in a dungeon. He’s the rider of Silverwing. It’s Ulf wearing all the money he’s received since he became a dragonrider. If only all that money could buy him class, he eats like a commoner.

Nevertheless, he catches your gaze, and when you know he’s looking as if springing back to life you slowly raise your nose in the air and look at him with a piercing glare under your lashes, like a predator looks at their prey before capturing them.

He swallows thickly and as if possessed by your husband's spirit, you shoot him a menacing glare and a wicked smile seconds before Daemon raises his up and grabs your attention.

“To the heir, I look forward to sharing the battlefield with you so I can see for myself what the Blood Dragon is really capable of,” he says with a growing grin, making you glance at your mother before you look back at him and offer him a smile that he mirrors, which is…weird, you’ll admit, but he’s making an attempt to make amends, so you don’t look away or let your disgust make an appearance, you take his smile. Once he’s back in his seat your grandfather doesn’t hesitate to rise from his seat and raise his goblet in the air, catching you by surprise.

“To the heir, and my Siren of Driftmark,” he says to the crowd before his eyes fall on you and a small smile tugs the corner of his lips. “I still tend to make Aerion my ward, but it seems now that he will be your heir, one of your twins will have to be my heir…”

He still plans to keep your children as heirs to Driftmark? But what of Addam and Alyn? Vanessa called Addam a Velaryon, so you were right, he is the bastard son of your grandfather and is now legitimized, so your grandfather could make any of the two the heir. Yet he kept his word, after all this time, after all you’ve done.

Perhaps you were quick to feel betrayed, and quicker to judge.

“To your health, and the health of my great-grandchildren,” your grandfather finishes, making you grin softly, and when he sits back down you pat his arm before you caress it, receiving a small smile from him in return.

This time rather than hearing mocking toasts filled with spite, breaking into a fight just before you can take your first bite of food like the last big dinner you were a part of, the music starts back up again, and the transition from toast to dinner is smooth. You’re thankful for it but also crave some mayhem in between your state of sorrow and the constant torment that you give Ulf every time you glance at him.

There does come a moment where your gaze finds a different pair of eyes that are darker than Ulf’s, kinder too, but you don’t attempt to make him squirm, nor do you threaten him with a piercing look alone. You actually avert your gaze out of shame for being so harsh on a man who was miles away when you spited him for being someone he had no control over. You let Aemond and your own insecurities get to your head. You admit that.

How shameful and stupid.

“You know, my sweet,” your mother interjects as she puts her goblet of wine down and you set your fork down. “I am Queen, which means I hold the power to…” she trails off and swallows back nervously before she continues hesitantly. “Annul your marriage to Aemond.”

You blink repeatedly in disbelief and look down at your plate of food to manage the shock that hits you as if you heard the most absurd thing in your life.

“We could marry you to someone kinder,” your mother continues to say through your obvious shock as if she wants to move forward with something that’s just meant as a suggestion. Is it not? “Someone worthy of you. Someone like…Lord Cregan Stark.”

You blink and look at her with your eyebrows softly pinched together, noticing a small playful smirk tugging on the corner of her lips as if this is some joke. And you understand where her joy comes from after all, you basically confessed your love for Cregan that time she snuck into King’s Landing, but doesn’t she know how hard it really is loving two people?

Does she know how hard it is to even fathom the thought of letting go of one to go to the other?

You’re torn between your love for Aemond and Cregan, doesn’t she know that? Doesn’t she know your conflict?

“Or she could marry a Martell prince,” Daemon suggests as he leans forward to be a part of the conversation. “They’d be idiots to turn down the proposal of an heir. And a marriage to Dorne would at last unite the kingdom, and give us all our strength for,” he pauses and passes you and your mother a glance. “…the future.”

You drop your gaze to your food and grab your fork with a tight grip. You don’t pick up any food, you just scrape it along the plate with your jaw clenched and your gaze pierced because even if they’re suggestions, it’s still your own life that they are so easily talking about. No matter how smart it would be to at last unite Dorne to the kingdoms, and or how much you once wanted to marry Cregan, is leaving Aemond really worth it?

You think of him, picture his face in your mind as clear as day and all you can imagine is how betrayed he’d be. You’d break his heart and him, is it really worth all of that? There’s still a fighting chance…minuscule maybe, but you have to believe there is no matter what the future has in store for you.

It’s a hopeless desire, but you are hopelessly in love with Aemond no matter what.

“I…” you interject with the attempt to reject your mother or just answer with something that would get her to abandon the conversation, but when she looks at you she does see your struggle and interrupts you.

“Think about it. I just wanted you to know that you’re not stuck, you have options, okay?”

You drift your gaze and let your jaw unclench and your eyes soften. “Okay.”

She offers you a reassuring look before she goes back to talking to Daemon, letting you stare back at your food and remind yourself to take deep breaths.

Being surrounded by so many people and such lively music is perhaps overwhelming after being cornered in Harrenhal for four months. Seeing your brother's seats be occupied by two men from the pits of the city is also perhaps too much for your mind to grasp. You look up from your plate on occasion and catch yourself expecting to see Lucerys and Jacaerys both laughing and talking with each other, or their respected partner, so when you see strangers on their seats it’s like…getting your breath ripped from your chest over and over again.

Perhaps this is why it was easier to stay with Aemond as long as you did, you remembered that they were gone when you were away from home but now that you’re home their ghosts haunt you at every corner.

But oh, you try to look content. You mingle with whoever wants to talk to you, your mother introduces you to Ser Hugh and officially introduces you to Ser Ulf, and you do note that Ser Hugh is much more etiquette than Ser Ulf, but they are both still low-born, they are not to be trusted. You can’t get yourself to trust them. As to Addam? Well, it’s complicated, but should you really trust him completely?

You can’t be sure yet.

“Is this not all you wanted?” Daemon startles you as he joins you in some lonely side of the hall.

“Once,” you sigh. “Once upon a time I wanted to be Queen, I wanted to be my mother's heir. Once upon a time, when life was…much more simple,” you find yourself sharing with him without straining or trying to find a way out.

“Good,” he surprises you by saying. “Not wanting to be a ruler doesn’t guarantee you will be good at it, but the crown is a heavy burden and when you don’t want it it’s easier to treat it that way.”

You scoff and the corner of your lips twitch to a teasing smile that he catches.

“What?”

You shake your head. “Nothing,” you mutter and look away to hide your smile.

Daemon huffs before he steps forward to stand in front of you now rather than at your side where you can’t meet eye to eye. “Your mother says we have a friend in common at Harrenhal.”

You flash him a smile but don’t respond with what he seeks. “Helaena mentioned…in a way that you talk. Why?”

A faint smirk twitches on the corner of his lips before he responds bluntly. “Much like our friend, she can see glimpses of the future. She appeared to me in a vision once, and now we're both here. I would be foolish to take her gift for granted.”

You nod softly and without a shift on your face you lean forward and at this particular moment disregard any attempt at reconciliation. “If I hear that you have hurt her in any way you will see for yourself why it is that they call me what they call me.”

Daemon doesn’t falter, nor does he get upset, he looks at you with a smirk that now spreads wider on his lips. “Noted.”

You huff and move away to stand beside him instead.

“Did she show you the future on that Weirwood tree?” Daemon asks, not letting you go just yet. “The witch?”

“Alys,” you clarify and turn to face the crowd. Daemon turns with you and you both catch your mother glancing over here and smiling when she sees you both interacting without looking upset—“yes. If only the glimpses of the future were clear.”

He hums in agreement as you both watch your mother from where you stand. “What did you see?” He probes.

“Myself, fighting for my mother. A son…born to me sometime in the future…he talked to me,” you muse with a growing smile of admiration. “Just like I'm talking to you now. I don’t know why…maybe he’s a dreamer or something else. Alys wouldn’t tell me, she said knowing too much is dangerous so that's what I am left with. That, along with the Prince that was Promised, and the dead that come with a long winter.”

“I saw her too,” Daemon interjects, making you shift your eyes to him. “She survived fire like you, but she didn’t look like you. Maybe—”

“No,” you cut him off. “It’s not me. What I have is unknown, Alys doesn’t even know. Blood magic perhaps, I don’t know.”

“But it’s something that will pass through our line,” Darmon says and meets your gaze with a serious gaze. “If you are not who was promised then it comes from our line. Yours, mine. We don’t know.”

You shake your head in agreement and then draw out a deep breath as you look ahead again. “We don’t know but we know she’s coming. My son said I would be the spark that would light a greater fire. Alys said it too, but…how can I? I’m with child and I can barely muster the energy to climb out of bed now that I’m here.”

Daemon stays quiet for a moment and in his silence you think perhaps you overshared. You didn’t mean to in the first place, but now that you know what you said perhaps you did and he doesn’t care.

“You’re already there,” he then fills the silence, stopping the worry of pouring your heart out on someone who couldn’t care, and stopping you before you can find an excuse to leave. “You just need to keep burning brighter, and the only way you can do that is thinking of who you’re fighting for.”

You look for them again. Jacaerys and Lucerys. You look at your mother, Baela, Rhaena, and your grandfather. You think of Aerion, your unborn children, Joffrey, and Aegon. And even Cregan comes to mind as you think about who it is you fight for.

“They will keep that fire alive. You must fight for their future. That’s why you need to keep getting out of bed. You can worry about the rest after we win,” he finishes, bringing tears to the corner of your eyes.

You don’t follow up with anything, but he knows you understand. He sees the tears crawling down your cheeks and he knows.

“You must know,” he speaks softly. “I am grateful that you saved Aegon and you tried to look for Viserys.”

More tears keep coming out as you hear what he mentions.

“You tried. You fought, and they sing about you like a great legendary dragon warrior…your father would be proud…just like I know your mother is.”

You inhale sharply and keep quiet, but he knows his words worked the way he wanted them to. He can walk away content after that even if he leaves you weeping.

Thus you walk away before someone can see you and think the wrong thing or worse, come and pester you with unnecessary questions.

When you find yourself outside of the hall you stand in front of the tall windows and try to calm yourself down before you return inside.

You can’t let yourself think of much or you’ll go down a spiral so you try and keep your mind off anything that will upset you at the moment, and hope not to take too long, but alas moments later someone carefully joins you in front of the window. At first, you think it’s your mother, but when you peek at your side you’re surprised to see Addam.

“Are you alright, your Grace, I saw you crying,” he says and proves you were not quick enough when you walked out.

“Uh, yes.” You nod and drop your hands from your face. “Yes I am Addam, thank you.”

Addam’s gaze lingers on you, you can feel it burning on your side before he slowly looks ahead, letting you steal a glance, and sigh out of guilt. “So…you are my grandfather's son?” You ask to get the rumors confirmed.

“Well,” he pauses and debates answering. “Yes. Bastard son.”

You shake your head and correct him. “You’re a Velaryon. You’re no longer a bastard under the law.”

“Perhaps,” he answers right away. “But I am. No law or name will change it.”

You hum and clasp your hands together, debating whether to apologize for a behavior he probably didn’t even notice, or leaving it be.

You feel like apologizing. He was so sweet the first time you met.

“I didn’t mean to steal your father's dragon,” he blurts and turns your gaze to him. “He came to me. I don’t want you to think that I did it on purpose.”

There it is again, that jolt in your chest.

“Addam,” you whisper. “My father is dead. My father died before you bonded with Seasmoke, he wouldn’t have bonded with you otherwise, so Seasmoke belonged to no one. We can’t own a dragon, we form a connection and they are loyal to us, we are one until either of us dies, but they’re not cattle or pets. He wasn’t ours to claim, so don’t apologize or even feel guilty. Feel special, he went out of his way to find you, I never heard of a dragon doing that.”

Addam scoffs as he drops his head, and a smile sneaks on his features.

“You should forgive me,” you chose to say. “I was upset at you and Alyn because I thought you would replace my son's inheritance. I was jealous and I spited you because of it.”

Addam’s gaze finds you and you find his. After a few seconds, he breaks out into a chuckle. “I didn’t even know,“ he admits. “So I suppose there’s nothing to forgive, besides you’re a princess you have every right to be—”

“No,” you cut him off before he can finish that statement. “Untrue. Being a princess doesn't mean that I’m above criticism. I mean sometimes I do feel entitled and have every right to be, but not when it comes to being cruel…to you. Good people.”

“You don’t know me,” he quickly rebuttals. “I could be cruel. The cruelest of cruel.”

You snort and chuckle. For the first time in so long you laugh from the depths of your stomach.

“I don’t believe that,” you say between laughs.

“How come?” He questions, making you take a deep breath to calm down and then answer genuinely.

“It’s in your eyes.”

As you say that his eyes soften and that grin falls to an awe-struck smile.

“And eyes never lie if you know how to read them,” you add. “I know. I see you now and through them, I see your good heart,” you say and gently tap his chest with your fist. “You’re good.”

“Thank you,” he whispers timidly.

You offer him a kind-hearted smile and then pull your hand away to drop your arm back at your side. When you’re both looking out the window and see how the night covers every aspect of the outside world, you stand in a…comfortable silence. It didn't last but no matter how short it was you still felt at ease.

“Can I ask why you left?” Addam asks. “Your mother was Queen, you had every chance to return to her side.”

You draw out a deep breath and mutter. “I was being selfish,” you avoid the truth to avoid problems. “I got upset at my mother and I was a selfish and bratty daughter, that's why I left…I'm a bad person.”

“If that made a person bad then the world would be full of bad people,” he gives his opinion as he doesn’t fear looking at you as he speaks up. “Regardless of the situation, it’s normal to get upset at parents. You’re young, and they make mistakes. Being upset doesn’t make you bad. Besides, you made up now right?”

You nod.

“See? That’s what matters.”

Your breath shutters but you don’t cry this time, you keep looking out at the window with a sense of bliss. Yes, that’s what it is, bliss.

“Can I ask you something now,” you don’t shy away from bringing up, maybe you should, but it feels right because he reminds you of your beloved brothers. “Why are you not dancing? There’s many fair ladies there. And there’s also beautiful Lady Rhaena. We won’t get many moments like these so it’s best to take advantage of them. Who knows maybe you’ll end up being wed by the time the week ends.”

He scoffs and then laughs before he tilts his head towards you. “Well, I don’t know how. I didn’t take dancing lessons like you.”

You scoff. “Okay, yes I took dancing lessons. I had to, and I liked them,” you share with a smile. “My uncle Aegon would annoy me, but luckily…my Aemond would always save me and always be my dance partner. So I can tell you that the most important thing is to not step on your dance partner.”

“That would be terrible,” he says and you hum before you skip over to stand before him and offer him your hand because you have that need to…enjoy yourself like you used to because of him. Because he’s such a sweet reminder of everything nice. “I’ll show you. Just follow my lead.”

Addam hesitates but he doesn’t overthink your offer, he places his hand over yours, letting you secure your warm hold over his before pulling yourself closer to him to firstly, grab his other hand and place it on your waist and then place your other hand on his shoulder.

“Now there’s many other dances, but this is the most common and basic one. This one will work fine for now,” you say before you step toward him first, noticing how he keeps his eyes focused on your feet.

“Alright,” he whispers under his breath.

“The second most important thing is to follow the beat of the music,” you follow by saying and listen to what’s playing in the hall, hearing a song with a fast beat so you grow mischievous and can’t help yourself. You move quickly to follow the rhythm and surprisingly enough Addam is quick to catch up and not stumble or step on you.

“Great!” You praise him.

“You tried to mess me up,” he points out with a half grin.

You shake your head and deny such claims. “No, I’m merely following the beat of the music.”

He hums as he nods before a teasing smirk tugs on his own lips and he doesn’t fail to match your enthusiasm by spinning you around, making you laugh. When you face each other as you only grab onto one hand now, it’s like you speechlessly come to an agreement before you dance wildly as if in tune with each other's dancing hearts. And since the corridor is alone you make the corridor your dance floor and dance up and down it.

You let yourself get carried away. You smile and laugh without guilt, without sorrow, and without agony clinging onto you. You let go for the night because of Addam.

——

*A COUPLE WEEKS LATER*

There’s…no sight of Astraea resting near the castle—she must be hunting.

Aemond descends from his dragon in some isolated space where his dragon can fit and strides toward the castle without worry at first. Yet as he gets closer and closer and doesn’t hear commotion echoing from within the walls he picks up his pace, finding his heart skipping a beat before that too picks up its pace.

But why should he worry? You’ll be here, he just didn’t leave enough men for the commotion to travel out, and Astraea is hunting…

With that repeating in his mind to reassure the growing pit in his stomach, he takes a deep breath and keeps his quickened pace. When he makes it within the castle walls he only has one objective in mind, seeing you, so he doesn’t go out of his way to search for any guards, he doesn’t check for the witch or Ser Jason, he makes a beeline where you’re supposed to be and already imagines how you would react when you see him.

You won't be happy, after all, he left you locked in your quarters. He did one of the worst things possible but all he needs is just to see you. He’s been on his own for far too long, all he needs is to look you in your captivating eyes, he just needs to feel your warmth, and hear your breath so he knows you’re alive. That’s all he wants, you don’t have to talk to him, he just needs to see you. That’s all his heart has ever yearned for.

Yet when he turns the corner to reach your quarters, he comes to an immediate halt when he sees the decaying bodies of your guards. The blood seems to be a stain on the ground now so the men weren’t just killed…they’re old…

He calls out your name and waits for a response. When he doesn’t hear your voice call out to him he races to the room and throws the doors open, finding two more bodies inside. One seems to have been wounded on his neck and the other was impaled. Was it you?

No, no, no…

He wants it to be you who killed these strange men that are not a part of the guards that he left behind, but his fears take control and his mind begins to make him think that someone else hurt you, so he quickly spins around on his heels and runs out. He calls out your name at every turn hoping you’ll be in another room, that someone else will hear and come out, but deafening silence is all that responds to his desperate calls and his thumping heart is all that fills his ears. It almost plays tricks on him. He swears he hears your voice travel through the corridors, but when he follows what he believes is your voice he finds nothing.

There’s no one. Nothing, but emptiness and a reminder of what was of this castle. That is until he runs into the Godswood and finds what he was looking for in the burnt bodies discarded on the ground, and the swinging bodies hanging from the white branches.

He doesn’t want to believe you left this lovely mess. He hopes something else did it so he can save you and find you, but what else could leave bodies black and nothing but bones? Who else would hang burnt bodies on the Weirwood tree, but you?

You followed the ways of the Old Gods after your stay in the North. You pray to the weeping tree and enjoy basking in your peace in the Godswood, so no one else would leave these bodies hanging from the tree but you.

You killed those strangers in your chambers, you had Astraea burn these bodies in the Godswood, you fought the trouble he meant to protect you from, and you lived.

There’s no other way around it. His mind places some doubt, but he knows you’re capable so he believes wholeheartedly that you lived through the ordeal. However, a part of him wishes you would have been in trouble so he could have came and saved you because at least if he came and saved you, that would guarantee you staying by his side. It would mean that you didn’t leave, but you did…you left.

YOU LEFT!

He tears his sword out of his sheath and swings at the weeping face again and again with more anger backing each swing every time, and with tears slowly clouding his eyes every time his blade would hit the Weirwood tree.

Once he’s panting and his tears stream down his face he lets his sword fall to the ground and he stands there mindlessly looking at the wounded tree with tears in his eyes and his eyebrows knitted together in anger whilst heavy pants leave past his lips.

A part of him expected you to find a way to leave. You’re restless, you don’t belong locked away in some tower, but he just wanted to protect you. He saw you die every night in his dreams while he was here, and he hurt you when he was lost in some trance, so all he wanted was to guarantee your safety. He didn’t want you to leave and leave him alone in this world. He…just wanted what was best. He didn’t mean to hurt you, he didn’t intend for you to leave him alone like his mother, his sister, and his brothers have.

“Damn it,” he hisses and falls to his knees in front of the Weirwood tree, feeling abandoned and betrayed, but still feeling a longing to see you. Even if you left him he still aches to feel your arms embracing him against you, he wants to hear your whispers against his ear and desires most of all to see you so you can meet his gaze as if nothing else existed in the world but him and you.

He searches for the memory of your enticing gaze in the Heart Tree, unbeknownst to the fact that you are looking at the Weirwood tree in the Red Keep’s Godswood, and also yearning to see him. You also search for the memory of his gaze in the Heart tree, as if the weeping face held the memory of each other's gaze.

“Exhausted from terrorizing my homelands already, Prince?” A voice breaks the silence, ripping him away from his thoughts and making him stand up rapidly and turn swiftly to find none other than the witch Alys.

“You!” He bellows and stomps over to her to grab her by the neck in order to be threatening, but she doesn’t flinch. She meets his gaze and snickers before she answers a question he doesn’t have time to ask.

“She left home. She’s where she belongs.”

Aemond swallows back thickly and looks at her with slight disbelief before he reaffirms his grip around her throat and sneers. “Bring her back. Tell her to come back.”

Alys wraps her hand around his wrist and yanks his hand off her throat before she deadpans. “No.”

Aemond scoffs but she interjects before he can snap back.

“She will be back. You will see her again.”

The corner of Aemond’s lips twitch to a smirk but she smirks back and that makes his fall as he grows uncomfortable.

“You will both return to this very place soon. She has to so she can continue down her destined path.”

Aemond is curious to ask more and ask what she truly means because she wouldn’t look so taunting if there wasn’t some deeper meaning, but alas he doesn’t ask because he doesn’t like her or trust her like you do.

“Girls,” Alys blurts and makes him blink out of shock. “You will have twin girls. I thought you should know.”

His lips part as a soft gasp escapes past his lips.

Does this revelation mean that Helaena was wrong? Will he live after all?

A/N- When you so badly want your sister to be wrong you become delusional 🤩

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic @lightdragonrayne @squidscottjeans @oh-you-mean-me @wallacewillow0773638 @icefrye19 @thescottpack @fiction-fanfic-reader @crazymusicgirl104 @r-3dlips @strangersunghoon @just-pure-trash @ethereal-athalia @missyviolet123 @callsignwidow @xunquish-blog @tabathastan @weepingfashionwritingplaid @answer-the-sirens @silverlightsaber

171 notes · View notes

casscainmainly · 5 months ago

Note

I think the recent Cass and Jason discussion is very interesting bc like, Jason or even steph in her first appearance take these actions of righteous, murderous (or near murderous) justice bc of the fact that not only have they've been abused, but they're also able to recognise that fact, and feel that despite everything, they didn't deserve to suffer like that (Jason with his murder, Steph with her childhood abuse)

Whereas Cass struggles for most of her series to recognise that she was abused and struggles to properly resent her abuser on the grounds that she didn't deserve it. She resents David for being a killer and making her love him, for making her a killer, but rarely for the actual abuse that came with her training. She eventually recognises it right before the end of pre-52 in batgirl 2008, but not after a long time, and she still tries to save David at the very end after contemplating letting him die.

she does grows to resent Bruce after some time, and confronts him, showing that she's slowly gaining higher expectations for how she should be treated after developing relationships outside the batfamily (coincidentally with Steph, someone who can relate over having a shitty dad, along with her love interests like Kon and Tai)- though Bruce, despite his multitudes of bad parenting moments never truly abuses cass like david did, so there's nuance, and after her fight with bruce, she still has trouble fully reckoning with her abuse (still calls david shooting her 'a game' in front of tim- she knows its wrong but still doesn't act upset about the fact it happened to her).

She kind of sees all the training she went through as a necessary evil in order to have the skills to be a hero- which is somewhat true, but I think it also contributes to her being unable to see herself, even partially, as a victim for large portions of her narrative.

She can understand abuse as something that molds you into a killer, she can't understand being abused and then choosing to be a killer bc of the righteous fury you have at what happened. In Cass' mind her abuse is synonymous with killing. That's the worst thing Cain ever did to her and the reason she ran away. She can't understand someone like Jason choosing it as a way to cope/deal with abuse.

I don't think this is necessarily a ground breaking thought but I think abuse is an interesting lense to look at both Jason and Cass' stories- pre52, Jason's story is about continuing a cycle of abuse. Criminals hurt him, he hurts criminals, and anyone who gets in his way of hurting the criminals, bc even tho he pursues justice, he also pursues retribution, which is hard to do justly. Between that and the whole zombie/living ghost thing, it's downright gothic. Whereas Cass' story is about breaking out of a cycle of abuse- nobody dies bc she let one person die and will never let it happen again. It's just an interesting way to view their differences I think. Good Cass and Jason posts recently!

I LOVE THIS!! I absolutely think abuse informs the way Jay and Cass see the world (and Steph - Steph, in many ways, is the median point between Jason and Cass).

It's the fundamental question that drives Jason and Cass apart. For Cass, her question is: how can I be the victim if I'm the villain? And for Jason, the question is more: how can I be the villain if I'm the victim?

I love this line: "Cass struggles for most of her series to recognise that she was abused and struggles to properly resent her abuser on the grounds that she didn't deserve it." This is doubly complicated by the genuine love David Cain had for her - that panel of them watching the stars kills me every time. This is another key difference between Jason and Cass' abuse (taking Jason's abuse to be his death) - Jason had no love for the Joker, but Cass did love David Cain.

It's why it's so easy for Jason to want to kill the Joker, and so hard for Cass to even be angry at her father. And your point here - "In Cass' mind her abuse is synonymous with killing" - is absolutely on point, because Jason's conception of abuse is the helplessness of being murdered. They are both acting in ways to prevent what abuse means in their minds: as Batgirl, Cass will never have to kill again, and as Red Hood, Jason will never have to be helpless in the face of murderers again.

Any rebuke of their moral codes feels like a denial of the abuse they suffered. It's why Cass can't allow others to kill, and why Jason can't accept Bruce's reasoning for not killing the Joker. It's why these versions of them could never get along. Argh there's been such good Cass and Jason commentary recently, they drive me insane!!!

#cassandra cain #jason todd #damn people are popping off with their analyses #i love this one because cass' denial of her abuse is underdiscussed #she can't hate david cain because she hates herself most #and yeah i think her worldview is very limiting not just to herself but to people like jason #stephanie was very integral to cass coming to some sort of acceptance about what david cain did to her #like cass' ability to relate her experiences to steph's dad is HIGHLY important to cass' healing i think #BUT THEN STEPH DIED #war games you will always be AWFUL

153 notes · View notes

yandere-toons · 6 months ago

Text

Yandere Golden Guard | Hunter (Platonic Scenario - “That Old Fire”)

Warnings: Fantasy Violence, Mention of Blood, Toxic Mindsets.

Word Count: 5,046.

A.N. – The illustration comes at the hands of Mike Austin, a storyboard artist for the series.

Footsteps amplified by the stone in the walls echoed as booms throughout the palace hallway. Hurriedly, you followed along behind until the door to one of the castle’s many antechambers was haphazardly thrown open. Within moments, the two of you had entered, and the door was again shut.

A poignant silence deafened the room, and while you acknowledged the urge to break it, something within cautioned you against it. Your companion, twitching and trembling, had taken to pacing the cramped area. Every five steps, he’d stop, muttering to himself, his ashy blond hair bouncing as he jerked his body from side to side, as if arguing with invisible foes.

Although you remained closer to the doorway than was probably necessary, a familiar sense of tiredness, coupled with annoyance, worked its way up within you. Time again, your companion had these episodes, and each time, they seemed to grow more visceral, more impassioned. It was as though something deep within had been attempting to claw itself free, and with every episode, every slight, whatever it was writhed that much closer to the surface.

It was the fifth time this month, and the month wasn’t even halfway through. A whisper, and your companion’s hand lunged from his side. Barely a second later, an audible zap sent a metallic cylindrical object flying from its perch atop a stack of nearby crates and soaring across the room.

The object was a yardarm, a horizontal component to attend one of the many flags of royal heraldry that were scattered across the room. The polished yardarm did little damage to the crates into which it smashed, but the clicking as the spearhead caromed from surface to surface drowned out any opportunity for interruption.

"Belos doesn't trust me! He thinks I'm nothing but a kid…” A huff escaped, scarcely audible as the spearhead made its final bounces. “He thinks I’m not good enough to do such an important job, and you know what? What if he’s right? What if I’m not, and this was my only chance? If I could have gathered some stupid recruits and brought them, then he’d have to take me seriously! Well, good luck with that now...” He scoffed, sweat forming on his brow.

You stood there, motionless, eyes cast over his sunken and shaking form. You knew he’d be upset at the failure to complete the mission but hadn't forseen it hitting him this hard. His hands twisted, and his eyes seemed to dart around the room, almost as if expecting Emperor Belos to come lurking behind any of the assorted tapestries.

“Failure,” the word haunted him, a mantra whispered in memory of his every mistake. “Why did I think volunteering for another mission would be a good idea? Nice one, Hunter! You’re a true professional. Making the family proud, huh?” He'd flung his hands up into the air in a dramatic gesture.

The rhetorical questioning was something you’d grown accustomed to, for better or worse. Once he started down that line of questioning, though, there was nowhere positive things could go.

You spoke softly, neither with condescension nor timorousness. “Hey. You are not a failure. Belos let you take on the mission, right?” You paused for a moment, allowing his breathing to slow before you continued. “He didn’t want that little demon he has following him, not any of those punk-head mages, either. And he didn’t say you were off the job, despite everything. You know what that means?”

He had stopped with his own line of questioning, and while his head remained tilted down at the stone floor, you could tell his nervous movements had lessened. You approached, not quite to the point of standing above him, but close enough to allow no mishearing of your words.

All he needed was a little nudge, and he’d be pulled away from those nasty thoughts eating away at him.

“It means the mission is still on.” Your fists clutched the ends of your gloves, drawn up to your chest, and rocked to and fro. “Maybe you just need a little help? I’m already off duty for the day, so I'll help you. We’ll go headhunting together, bag some recruits, and show all those dopey mages how wrong they were! What do you say, friend?”

In one swift motion, his eyes lifted from the ground and widened. The shadow of happiness crept onto his face and, beside it, a hint of worry about how short it might last.

He looked at you like a boy who was seeing the dawn. In his rose-coloured gaze was relief at having seen it after questioning for so long whether he would.

Hunter pushed himself to his feet as a knight would upon receiving a quest from his liege, and he offered his hand. “Let's go.”

You offered a slight smile, adorned your mask, and set off behind Hunter. The mission wouldn’t be easy, but it would be worth it.

***

It took more time than it should have to find Hexside, but once the two of you laid eyes on it, there was no mistaking it. The school was a distinguished landmark, separated from the Titan’s ribs surrounding it, with its dense foliage and rolling hills that seemed to swallow the place.

Still, you and Hunter could see various students and staff meandering across the grounds, and while you investigated the landscape, Hunter scanned the student body.

“They don’t know it yet, but they’ll love being in the Emperor’s Coven! We’ll sell them on sleeping in until 6 A.M., ditching their lame friends for better ones, and learning the best kind of magic there is… Rules and authority!”

You weren’t sure whether Hunter was talking to you, himself, or someone else, but same as before, you didn’t feel the need to try and take the wind from his sails. You’d be there to support, as you’d done before, win or lose.

“I’ll go in first since I’m supposed to lead the mission, okay? But you stay close by in the event we have to fight some of the other coven reps for the recruits. Those guys will do anything to see me fail, so be ready, okay?”

He wasn't dour like before, and his body had shifted to one of nervous twitches in the face of some uncertain future rather than ruminating on the difficulties of the past. His head held higher, and his eyes seemed to fill with that curious gleam again. You wondered briefly if he'd even noticed your staring, but before the question could be answered, you nodded.

Releasing a quick breath, the two of you set off for the grounds of the school. You’d need to change your clothes and stash your uniforms for the mission, and with a reminder of that to Hunter, a fast spell had ensured the two of you looked the part of regular, blissfully unaware, students rather than disciplined soldiers of the emperor.

With Hunter in tow, you wandered the grounds, occasionally socialising with students and other creatures you could only assume were faculty. No one seemed inclined to check your respective identities, and neither of you cared to overshare. If agents of the Coven Heads were present or any practitioners of wild magic, it wouldn't do to draw too much attention to yourselves.

After what felt like hours, the two of you emerged from one of the many pathways around the school into what appeared to be a courtyard. Bleachers formed a barrier on one side, and across from them, a stretch of wood formed another.

Despite being so close to the school, the dense vegetation managed to obscure vision from the courtyard in at least two directions, but parts of the main campus, jutting out above the bleachers, still seemed to cast a watchful eye upon the area.

Any activity here was purposely made to be seen by an audience.

Hunter redirected your attention with a quiet grunt back to the far side of the courtyard, where six of what you could only assume were students lined up in two teams of three. They adorned themselves with knee pads, exercise shorts, and various sports shoes.

One of the students, a three-eyed girl with violet-coloured hair, seemed to be the most animated of the group, boasting of her prowess in the game known as “grudgby” and hurling unflattering accusations at the students gathered opposite her.

Within seconds, the students were casting magic, shouting at one another, and flying across the courtyard, and at every opportunity, the velvet-haired girl continued to roar out insults.

Hunter scoffed at the brash display, keen to move on, but your snickering compelled him to turn and face you.

“And you weren’t like that to the conscripts and weekend warriors they had to bring down after we made it to the bottom of the mountain? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten?” You offered a cheeky smile, and Hunter, mind aflush with memories, wrenched his head away. His cheeks had developed a tinge of red, and he’d instinctively reached for a mask that was no longer there.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…” he stuttered, neck craned. “I—We… were gracious in victory. That’s what the emperor expected, and that’s what we did.”

“That’s what we did after you had the training supervisor tally up the scores four different times to repeat that our team had won… Handily.”

Hunter fell silent, the red on his face glowing brighter as his shoulders locked up again.

“If we kicked out everybody with a bad attitude, neither of us would have been selected for anything beyond cleaning duty.”

Hunter offered no response, mouth straight and flummoxed by your argument.

“Let’s give them a shot. If they’re all talk, we’ll move on, but if not, then maybe we’ve found some of our recruits. Plus, if you end up being right, I’ll let you say, ‘I told you so.’ Sound good?” You offered a soft smile, careful not to interrupt Hunter as he reclaimed his bearings. He didn’t like being bombarded with questions when he was flustered and didn’t care for swift, sudden moves either.

Hunter’s head slowly rose, and he bore a slight yet noticeable smile on his face. “All right. Let’s do it!” His shoulders relaxed with his next breath, but you could still see a touch of red on his face as you marched past him towards the courtyard.

Grudgby, as it turned out, was a mixture of a capture-the-flag game and a close quarters combat course. The rules were of limited interest to you, save for the opportunity embraced by seemingly every member of both teams to clobber one another with magic or their fists when an opponent came too close.

It wasn’t easy, certainly, and there was a clear possibility of injury, but the game was exciting. Hunter elected to watch from the first row of bleachers, but you found yourself knee-deep in a match, tasked with defence. When an opportunity came to guard against opponents, you fared well.

The soldiers of the Emperor’s Coven did not yield to their enemies.

***

Another goal defended, and you’d lost track of time. Another point against your team prevented, and in the stupor that came with that train of through, you’d neglected to notice the velvet-haired girl, Boscha, charging you from another direction.

Her teammate had been decidedly less coordinated and inclined to deception, charging at you head-on, but Boscha was a different animal. As her teammate was flung back, Boscha advanced on your left flank, just outside your periphery. She surged toward the goal, unleashing a blast of magic powerful enough to send you plummeting into the grass.

Your vision went black for a moment, and your ears rang with a tumultuous melody. Something high-pitched sounded to command the field, and within moments, you could hear a frenzy of concerned questions. Your face had become buried in the grass from the fall, and you were unable to immediately answer.

Unbeknownst to you, Hunter had risen from the bleachers, determined to approach but had yet to sort through the crowd. His breath quickened to a subtle pant, and he hastened to view the scene for himself.

A member of your team, a neon green-haired girl named Amity, had crouched at your side. She gently wove her hands across your limbs, chest, and head, checking for open wounds and any lingering magical damage.

Amity leaned towards you and, upon turning your head, a gasp escaped her that she tried to stifle.

Hunter's trained ear caught the start of it. “What?” he asked, his voice rising as he turned to Amity. “What is it?”

Folding her hands on her lap, Amity sat up and kept her eyes down. “Nothing. They just had some dirt on their face.”

The slight pause after the word “just” caused Hunter to tighten his grip on the staff. He gritted his teeth, narrowed his eyes and struggled with his innate distrust of the situation. Relocating, his eyes locked onto your form as he maneuvered closer to you, but barely a second later, he pressed his lips into a straight line and stormed in her direction.

Amity widened her eyes and raised her arms when a gloved hand clutched her left shoulder, and a grunt flew out her mouth as she was shoved aside.

Hunter stood in her place and searched for the reason behind her surprise, nearly dropping his staff when he saw it.

The voices of friends, memories, nightmares swelled like the tolls of broken bells.

Despite this, Hunter could not rid himself of the thought that your wound mirrored his. Back when it was fresh and still stung like the point of a fire bee, it was dripping red. The magic blast had singed a streak of burnt skin across your jaw and cheek, just as the mystical vine had sliced a stripe up his flesh.

His scar began to itch, and Hunter reached out to scratch it when he realised he had been picking at it for the last minute.

The drop in his stomach brought a wave of cold sweat over his head. It was as if a rainstorm had developed and poured only on him, chilling his bones and drawing shuddering breaths from his lips.

Strips of yellow and red magic crackled at the end of his staff. He squeezed it until his hand shook and his knuckles turned white.

As soon as he spun towards Boscha, every Hexside student on his side of the court rushed to block his path. Multiple shouts of “Woah!” and “Easy!” spilt from the group as they formed a half-circle about him, many with their hands up high to deflect any far-reaching spells.

In the confusion, other students loafing nearby had arrived, some to help, and others to simply gawk. At least a dozen students had made their way onto the courtyard by that point, including another young witch identified as Luz.

Boscha, for her part, stood comfortable across the field, bragging to her entourage about scoring points and retelling the story of how she’d knocked the enemy team’s ‘newbie’ straight into the dirt.

You were lucid by this point and, though still somewhat slurred in speech, stable. That fact eluded Hunter, however, who struggled against Luz barely half a court away. You noticed that, amidst the students seeking to deny him his quarry, he’d shouldered and darted past as many as possible to bring himself closer to Boscha.

He was perhaps fifteen metres from her before Luz succeeded in halting his lunge forward. Hunter fought against Luz, placing a strenuous emphasis on every third word. “She does not get to do that and just walk away!”

Luz dug in her heels, pressing her weight into the staff. Though Hunter was almost certainly physically stronger than this witch, you could tell there was something about her that commanded his attention; it seemed as though they knew each other.

“No one is saying what she did is okay!”

A shout of fury burst out of Hunter as he shoved Luz back a step. “Then why are you defending her?”

“I'm not!” Luz relaxed her clenched teeth and softened her furrowed brows into a look of sympathy, her voice lowering alongside it. “I'm trying to stop you from doing something you'll regret.”

Hunter glowered at Boscha from across the court, his head down and his eyes looking up. “I won't regret it.”

He spared Luz a final glance before ripping his staff free of her and marching once more to you, his fury temporarily repressed whilst he had something else to swallow his attention.

“Hunter?” As he lifted you from the ground in silence, you pressed a hand to your cheek and winced at the burn. “Why is my face on fire?” you mumbled, to which Hunter offered a sullen glance.

He laid your arm across his back and shoulders. “Come on. I'm taking you home.” His eyes seemed far away with that remark, but his voice rang sincere.

With a nervous but hopeful smile, Gus, a friend of Luz’s, dashed forward. “Hey, it's just a little burn! Have someone from the Healing Coven take a look at it, and we can start round two.”

After ensuring you could stand on your own, Hunter whirled towards him and pointed a finger at the distant shape of Boscha. “I say we don't want to play with anyone who thinks this is okay!” His finger swung round to your wound.

Taking a breath, Willow, another friend of Luz, closed her eyes before reopening them with a frown. “You can leave if you want, Hunter, but it's their choice.” She extended a hand to you.

His face reddened at this.

Hunter clenched his fists at his side and looked between you and the group. “You agree with me, right?” There was a layer of desperation in his words that gave you pause.

It felt much more personal than it should have. Hunter had known more of these students than he had let on, and though the burn on your face continued to sting, your attention remained directed elsewhere. It hurt to know that Hunter hadn't been forthcoming about the environment into which you'd both entered, but you couldn't quite blame him for it.

Everything about this situation upset him, but if you spirited away with him, he'd spend the rest of the mission upset. As usual, he'd blame himself, and that wasn't the point of any of this.

Firmly, but not aggressively, you shook the hand of Willow, offering a slight nod in affirmation. “I don't see why I can't stick around for the end.”

Hunter uttered a slight grunt but voiced no further complaints, eyeing the contact until it broke.

You resolved that while you wouldn’t enter the second event, and would instead watch, you’d give Hunter a chance to collect himself and cool off. Pressuring him into conversation before he was ready wouldn’t help, and for the purposes of the mission, the both of you were simply students with but limited history together.

Hunter made his way to the bleachers, shoulders tensed and brooding. You’d elected to sit on the bench proximate to the court, presumably where the teams would sit in between time on the field.

Gus and Willow, after being thanked for their assistance, departed to pursue their own activities, but even if they hadn’t, you paid them little mind.

The sounds of the grudgby match echoed far beyond the court on which they took place: spells cast, players sent flying, and occasional obscenities hurled. The injuries sustained, non-life-threatening but certainly inhibiting, all reminded you of training. The organised chaos, the stenches of fear and exertion, and the desperation for success were all familiar bedfellows.

You had a slight smile on your face as you watched the madness unfold.

Casting only a peripheral glance to your side, you confirmed that Hunter lingered in his perch upon the top row. Given that he hadn’t already returned to sit beside you, he must still have been sore over your disagreement. It was something you’d have to talk out once the mission was over.

***

After a vicious and profanity-laden game, the braggart, Boscha, and her team claimed victory. Amity and her team fought well, scoring several goals in rapid succession early in the game, but Boscha’s malevolent energy could not be matched.

She kicked, spat, cursed, and cast at every opportunity, and though it left more than one member of the other team requiring bandages by the time of the game’s conclusion, her approach had paid off.

Simmering with pride, Boscha had soon taken to rehashing everything she and the rest of her team did to secure victory with her fellow grudgby players. Amity’s team was more personable, choosing to tend to one another’s wounds, clean up the courtyard, and move as a group towards a path back to the school grounds.

After turning in your direction, Boscha spied you sitting alone. A devious smile crawled onto her face, and she started to approach you. Unfortunately for you, the injury to your face had resumed itching, and while you sought to address that issue, Boscha made her approach.

The rest of her team made no attempt to regain her attention and instead began one-by-one to slip away from the courtyard as well. You spied Luz, the human witch, moving at high speed, but your attention broke from her in a fresh round of scratching.

Boscha had nearly closed the distance, but amid a scratching fit, you’d shut your eyes. Further unbeknownst to you, Hunter was on the move. Still, the game was over, and the only thing left to do was to link back up with Hunter, decide how to proceed.

Turning about, you noticed he was no longer atop his nest in the bleachers, and for a moment, your blood froze. Was it possible that in your awe at the game, you’d failed to spot a threat? Had something occurred on the bleachers, so close to you, without your knowledge? Had Hunter been discovered and abducted? Had this whole game been a well-planned ruse by the enemies of the emperor to seize his nephew?

Taking a deep breath and letting it flow out slowly, you evaluated the situation. Luz emphatically conversed with an annoyed and uncomfortable Boscha, and you could still see a few wandering students sashaying across the surrounding area. Either whatever happened was subtle, or perhaps, Hunter was simply out of your sight.

There came no noticeable change in temperature or breeze, and the sunlight illuminating the court shone unobstructed. No sizzling of recently cast magic reached your ears, no moaning of abominations, and no belching of steam from exhaust vents of heavy machinery. Still, it was highly doubtful Hunter would have taken off without you.

Another moment of scanning, and you spotted him, lower than usual, and with staff clenched. You almost made to join him in what you first thought was imminent combat before your eyes followed his gaze.

He fixated on Luz and Boscha, the duo barely ten metres from you. Once again, noted a passing thought, you had failed to notice Boscha’s approach.

Boscha opened her mouth and raised a hand to the side of it, only to pause when Luz darted in front of her. She wrinkled her eyes and curled her lip in disgust as Luz grasped her hand with both of her own and began shaking it up and down.

“Wow, that was a great game! You really had us beat!” The words spewed out of Luz's mouth in a flurry of haste and nerves, and she leaned forward with closed eyes in an attempt to command Boscha's attention.

“Your team was awesome! Like, I don’t even know how you guys moved that fast and how you kept scoring so many goals. You were crushing the other team! We’ve met before, by the way. I’m Luz, and have I told you that I’m a huge fan of yours…?”

Luz’s words flooded out in a hodgepodge of watered-down criticism of Amity’s team, praise for Boscha’s apparently unbelievable skill in grudgby, and overeager begging to be taught the secrets to the game’s success. Hunter didn’t move an inch throughout the exchange, his narrowed eyes locked onto Boscha and burning through the human obstacle in the way.

After two full, uninterrupted minutes of Luz heaping further praise on Boscha and desperately seeking tutoring, the aggrieved victor recoiled and yanked her hand free. Visibly cringing, Boscha turned her body to the side, raising her formerly gripped hand in an almost defensive arc to shield her face from Luz’s sight.

“Let go of me, freak! Get lost!” Boscha spat in unabashed repulsion at Luz’s fawning. Luz, either unaware or dismissive of the effort at escape, took the opportunity to move closer to Boscha, even opening her arms for something she called a ‘victory hug.’ She boosted her verbal barrage, adding in personal compliments about the grudgby player’s hair, shoes, and even her smell.

Horrified, Boscha lurched about and, after shrieking a string of words you could only assume she did not learn in class, raced away, presumably to find any remnants of her team.

Luz abandoned any attempt at pursuit and instead rounded herself to face Hunter. Her shoulders drew in tight, and her eyes remained focused on his, but her stance demonstrated less malice than it did determination.

“Why did you do that?” Hunter asked, failing to contain the wrath singing in his ears. Once again, his shoulders tensed up, and his posture ran rigid. Eyes slitted, he glared in unrepentant disgust at the retreating figure of Boscha and the interrupting one of Luz.

“Because, like you, I saw what she was about to do. That wouldn’t have been good for anyone, least of all, you.” Her words betrayed an edge, akin to Hunter’s, but the intent was different: where Hunter’s reeked of hostility, Luz’s turned quiet with worry. The steadiness with which she spoke belied her erratic actions towards Boscha merely moments prior.

“Come on, Hunter. It's just a friendly game."

"Is it? Does this always happen at your 'friendly games'? People getting bludgeoned because the enemy team decided not to play fair!" Sweat resurfaced on Hunter’s face, with beads of it dripping across his forehead. His teeth remained grated, but as Boscha had left his field of view, he seemed to mellow out, albeit slightly.

"Well, no. That was a little extreme, but—"

"But nothing! The game's over, so we're leaving. We're done!”

Luz made an effort to step forward, offering a hand in support of the shaking Hunter. He bristled at the potential contact, turning away in a flurry of loathing and shame.

“That wasn’t okay for her to do that.” Hunter stared at a plot of dirt, emotion draining from his voice. Despite his choked attempt at masking his feelings, an occasional tremor tickled up his arm.

The other students, either ignorant or indifferent, continued on with their day.

With the match over, you made for the bench, intent on passing through Hunter’s field of view before quietly slipping off back to the main school grounds. A direct interruption of Hunter whilst he was in the midst of conversation would do little to assuage him, but he needed a reason to pull himself from the interaction.

An impulse to scratch at your recent wound emerged, however, and with it, came a ringing in your ears that made you all but deaf to the surrounding world.

Luz playfully hit Hunter’s shoulder, which yielded a twitch. “See? I knew you'd come around!” She offered a kind smile, careful not to reveal hostility or make any additional sudden moves.

Hunter blinked, a tired push against the dark bags already set in, turned to the stands and looked away from Luz, eyes seeming to glaze. “If she hurts them again, you won't stop me.”

Luz eyed him with her arm drawn to her chest. She pursed her lips and closed her fist, a seed of worry in her gut.

Seeing you paw at your injury but swerve in his direction, Hunter lifted his eyes from the ground and began striding to meet you. Energy returned to his movements, but before he could reach you, Luz again called out to him.

"Hunter! Why don't you stay five?" She inquired, seeming determined to make peace. Hunter stopped on a heel and, casting one further look in your direction, turned back, less forcefully than simply aggrieved.

"Unlike you, human, we have places to be." The condescension in his voice was overpowering, reminiscent of someone with infinitely many other, and all decidedly superior, opportunities for social interaction than the one in which he found himself.

Dismissively, Hunter spun about, certain to find you standing behind him, or at least, proximate to him, but instead, he gaped at the sight of you having just passed by him to meander on the pathways winding about the bleachers.

In an instant, the anger evaporated from his face. "Where are you going?" The tone change in his voice betrayed no small amount of uncertainty and even suggested a hint of fear.

"I thought I told you to wait for me," he sputtered out, ignoring any further communication from Luz, or indeed, any of the other students or creatures that remained on or near the courtyard.

"You'd have lain into everyone on the court if I didn't give you a reason to leave." You turned your head slightly back towards Hunter as you continued walking, presenting a slight smirk.

To him, there lurked no anger in that face, no sting of disappointment, no plot to humiliate, no condemnation shaved sharp on the tip of your words. You spoke to him then, just as you had so many times before, like another person, rather than some useful tool or obstacle in the way of brighter prospects.

Though your eyes only met his momentarily, and via periphery, that old fire bloomed on his face once more. "I just—" he turned his head away, again reaching for a mask he did not possess "—want things to be fair."

You offered a snicker, quiet, but due to Hunter’s proximity, audible.

All you heard in between your steps to the forest was a single, solitary squeak.

170 notes · View notes

tired-truffle · 26 days ago

Text

Before We Lost It All

A Viktorxfem!reader fic

Chapter Word Count: 2.5k

Tag list: @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @potatointhedirt @dedicated2viktor

"We make each other alive. Does it matter if it hurts?" - Ingmar Bergman

A/N: This takes place in chapter 9 of Muj Milacek during the scene where you convince Viktor to take a break from working and get some much-needed rest - in your bed, of course.

Masterlist

He’d let you sucker him into resting with those big, pleading eyes that plucked at his heartstrings. He was worrying you, he knew this, but he’d never been very good at accepting help. With his declining health and your visions of his death hanging over his head, he’d been growing increasingly desperate. And desperate times called for desperate measures - like sleeping in the same bed as the girl he’d been in love with for seven whole years.

If only you’d stop laughing at him.

"Is there something you find humorous about my attire, Milá?" He fixed you with what he hoped was a lovingly exasperated glare. At that point, he was too exhausted to tell.

"I'm sorry." You continued to giggle, undercutting your apology, though he found the sound pleasing enough to forgive you. "I'm overtired and I really wasn't expecting them to be that ill-fitting."

Viktor huffed at you, rolling his eyes with a small smile. He was well aware he looked ridiculous, the oversized shirt drowned his thin torso in fabric, but the pants barely reached past his knees. They had to be children’s pants, why you had them was beyond his understanding. To make matters worse, you were standing there in nothing but a large shirt that reached your upper thighs, your legs illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the window, and he assumed underwear beneath. You were gorgeous, and he was…feeling rather silly. Though he found it difficult to care all that much when you smiled so sweetly at him, the corners of your eyes crinkled with mirth.

"You can have the bed,” you offered when you’d managed to stop giggling. “I'll take the couch."

"I'm not stealing your bed, Miláček, it is plenty big enough for the both of us." Viktor pulled back the covers, slipping in. "And I will not subject you to that couch for any longer than necessary. I swear they made it with knives instead of springs."

He had insisted this both out of genuine concern for your back after sleeping on such an object, and out of his selfish want to sleep beside you. Could a dying man not be granted this one wish?

You hesitated, and for a moment he worried he’d overstepped your boundaries. But he wasn’t left waiting for long. You made your way to the bedside, shy but not necessarily timid.

"If you insist," you said, turning off the bedside lamp. "But you better not warm up your frigid toes on me."

"No promises."

The mattress dipped as you climbed into bed beside him, laying down with your hands curled tight against your chest. You were facing him, your chin tilted to meet his gaze.

This felt dangerously intimate. He was in bed with the woman he secretly loved - well, secret to you, Viktor was pretty sure everyone else knew. If he asked you to come closer, would you understand then? If he placed a soft kiss on the crown of your head, his hands cradling your back, would he need to say it? But he couldn’t voice his request, couldn’t find the words to ask for that which he longed for most.

He’d been a fool to think he could sleep with you so close yet not within his grasp. To lay beside you like his skin didn’t prickle with the need to be pressed completely against you was its own kind of torture.

"Does it hurt?" You broke the silence, your head turning to face him in the dark.

He was too tired to try to deny it, and you’d see through his lie anyway. "Yes," he answered plainly.

"Can I try something?" you asked, your tone even.

Curious and unable to deny such a simple request, he nodded. You reached forward, placing your hand against his chest and sending a bolt of excitement running through him. Your palm was soft and warm through his shirt, your heart beating quickly in your veins and tapping lightly against him. He lay still, his gaze fixed on you, giving you space to make the next move.

You closed your eyes, forcing your breathing to even out, your nose crinkling adorably in the low moonlight as you concentrated.

Nothing happened.

"Can I get closer?" you asked, and he appreciated your asking for permission - always polite and giving him the agency to choose.

He opened his arms, motioning for you to snuggle in. Slowly, you scooted closer until the top of your head was just below his chin, feeling the gentle rise and fall of your chest against his as you breathed. Your ear rested against his chest, one hand pressed against his chest while you placed the other on his back, over the back brace he’d been too tired to take off. He’d regret that tomorrow when his skin itched and his spine ached, but now he could focus on little else except the feeling of you curled up in his arms. Slipping an arm under your neck, he rested the other over your waist, drawing lazy circles on the small of your back. Viktor didn’t want to think about anything that didn’t involve you, nor how difficult it was going to be to pull himself away when the time came.

This wasn’t the first time you’d insisted he take a much-needed break from his work. Years ago you'd dragged him to a street fair in Piltover when he’d become so worn down by reports that he didn’t know where he ended and the equations began. He'd grumbled at first, but your infectious enthusiasm had won him over. You'd shared sticky cotton candy, the sweetness on your lips making him ache to taste them. When fireworks exploded overhead, he'd been captivated not by the display, but by the light reflected in your eyes.

Viktor's heart swelled with a bittersweet ache. He loved you - wholly, desperately, irrevocably. You were the sun to his withering form, the spark that kept his passion for progress alive even as his body failed him. He longed to confess, to pour out seven years of pent-up devotion. But fear held him back - fear of rejection, of complicating your friendship, of leaving you heartbroken when his time inevitably ran out.

So instead, he held you close in the darkness, committing every detail to memory. The soft whisper of your breath against his neck. The delicate curve of your spine beneath his fingertips. The subtle scent of your shampoo, floral and comforting. He etched it all into his mind, a perfect moment to carry with him always, no matter what the future held.

Viktor felt a sudden warmth emanate from your palm, spreading through his chest like rays of sunlight. A faint blue glow pulsed beneath your skin, illuminating the creases of your hand.

As your magic seeped into him, Viktor was struck by an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. The sensation was wistfully familiar, like a half-remembered dream or a long-lost memory struggling to surface. It felt like coming home after years away, like slipping into a warm bath after trudging through a blizzard. He couldn't place why it felt so natural, so right, but he found himself sinking into the comfort of it nonetheless.

The magic flowed through him, a soothing current that sought out every ache and pain. It pooled in his joints, easing the constant throbbing in his hip and knee. It traced along his spine, melting away the tension that had become a constant companion. Even the persistent headache that had taken up residence behind his eyes began to recede.

As the pain ebbed away, replaced by a numbing coolness, Viktor felt his body truly relax for the first time in years. His muscles unknotted, his breathing deepened, and the ever-present furrow between his brows smoothed out. He let out a long, shuddering sigh, filled with relief and contentment.

"Miláček," he whispered hoarsely, his voice heavy with sleep, "you truly are a wonder."

You didn't respond, your eyes still closed in concentration, but he felt your magic pulse in response to his voice. The blue glow intensified, casting soft shadows across your features. Viktor found himself enthralled at the sight, overcome by your beauty, wishing he could run his fingers down your jaw before capturing your lips in a kiss.

As the pain receded further, Viktor found his mind clearing. Ideas and solutions that had been just out of reach now crystallized with startling clarity. It was as if your magic had not only soothed his body, but sharpened his intellect as well. He wanted to leap out of bed and rush to his workbench, to capture these fleeting inspirations before they could slip away.

But the warmth of your body against his and the blissful absence of pain kept him rooted in place. For once, Viktor allowed himself to simply exist in the moment, free from the constant drive to work, to improve, to race against his own mortality. He tightened his arms around you, pulling you closer as you nestled in, pressing your face against his neck.

Viktor fought against the encroaching darkness, desperate to savour every second of this closeness, but exhaustion tugged insistently at the edges of his consciousness.

Within minutes, he was sound asleep.

Viktor drifted slowly into consciousness, his mind still blissfully foggy with sleep. Without thinking, he tightened his arms around the warm body pressed against him, pulling you closer. He nuzzled into your hair, breathing in your familiar scent. For a moment, everything was perfect.

Then awareness hit him like a bucket of ice water.

His eyes flew open as he realized where his hands were. One had slipped beneath your shirt during the night, splayed across the bare skin between your shoulder blades. If he moved it even slightly higher, he'd expose…Viktor's breath caught in his throat. He couldn't bring himself to complete that thought.

"Yeah, I noticed that too," you said, alerting him that you were awake.

He became acutely aware of every point of contact between your bodies. Your leg was slotted between his, your thigh pressed dangerously close to his groin. Your breath tickled his collarbone, your lips mere centimetres from his skin.

Viktor squeezed his eyes shut, willing away the temptation. You trusted him, had opened your home and your bed to him without hesitation. He refused to betray that trust, no matter how much his body screamed for more contact.

But oh, how he ached to explore further. To trace the curve of your spine, to map every inch of your skin with reverent touches. To wake you with gentle kisses and whispered confessions of love.

But that wasn’t for him.

"My apologies, Milá, that was not my intention," he said apologetically, reluctantly pulling his arm away and tugging your shirt down for you. It was the least he could do.

Returning his arm to your now clothed waist, his finger traced smooth patterns along your back. He swallowed his gasp of surprise when you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

"It's okay,” your words vibrated against his shoulder, “I don't mind."

He hummed a soft acknowledgement and was pleased when you made no move to disentangle yourself. The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a golden glow on the peaceful bubble. Nature's symphony of birdsong and distant traffic provided a gentle soundtrack as he let himself slowly wake up. As the fog of sleep lifted, Viktor became acutely aware of the pain creeping back into his body, the ache in his joints and the tightness of his back. Still, his head felt clearer than it had in months, the persistent headache reduced to a dull throb rather than the usual stabbing agony. He felt…rested. Truly rested, in a way he hadn't experienced in years.

Much too soon, your alarm clock shattered the serene atmosphere and worsened his headache.

You groaned as you slowly peeled yourself off of him and Viktor resisted the urge to grab your hips and pull you back into his arms. With a sigh, you slapped the top of the alarm clock aimlessly, finally hitting the off button and ending its incessant beeping.

Flopping onto your back, you turned to look at him, a soft, warm smile spreading across your face. The morning light caught in your tousled hair, creating a halo effect that made you look almost ethereal. Your eyes, still heavy-lidded with sleep, held a tenderness that made his heart stutter in his chest.

By the Gods, you were beautiful. Not in the polished, artificial way of Piltover's elite, but in a way that was uniquely, breathtakingly you. It was beyond his ability to describe, so he didn’t try.

Viktor's fingers twitched with the desire to trace the curve of your jaw, to tangle in your hair and draw you close. He imagined pressing his forehead against yours, breathing the same air, whispering all the words he'd kept locked away for so long.

But he couldn't. He wouldn't risk ruining this, whatever this was between you. So instead, he returned your smile with a small one of his own, hoping it conveyed even a fraction of the warmth he felt.

“You look like you slept well,” you teased, your smile tilting into a lopsided grin.

"You say that like it’s a good thing but it seems more like an insult to me." He patted at his hair, an attempt to flatten it that was doomed to fail from the beginning.

You giggled, a wonderous sound he would never tire of hearing, and sat up in bed. Before he had time to avert his gave, you’d stretched your arms over your head and you squeezed your eyes shut. Did you realize how your thin shirt plastered itself against your body, giving him a clear view of all your soft curves?

He cleared his throat, finding great interest in staring at the wall across the room, ignoring the blush that tinted his cheeks. Out of the corner of his vision, he saw your blush match his when you realized exactly what had just happened.

"I'm going to get ready," you announced shakily. With a quick swivel, you got out of bed and picked your clothes out of the closet, all while keeping your back to Viktor. Not that he minded, necessarily, but there was something about your reddened cheeks that captivated him entirely. "I'll meet you in the lab with breakfast?"

"Grab me a sweet milk and carrot muffin if they have it?"

“I’ll do my best!”

As you fled to the bathroom, Viktor found his voice once more. "Thank you, Mila." You turned back around to peek at him from around the door, adorable in your embarrassment. "I feel much better, you were right after all."

You smiled softly at him. "You should come back tonight," you said before hastily adding, "but only if you want to, of course."

He wanted nothing more, but did you? He swung his legs over the side of the bed, the sunlight streaming through the window illuminating his soft brown hair. "Are you sure? I don’t wish to impose any more than I already have."

You shook your head. “I don’t like sleeping alone, you’re not the only one who benefits.”

He smiled, bright and unburdened. Why had he doubted you? It seemed silly now when you regarded him with such bashful hope. You cared for him as he cared for you, didn’t you? “Then I suppose we have a deal.”

A/N: Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed the second Viktor's POV <3 Sadly, the arcane hyperfixation has left me, but when it comes back, I'm sure you'll definitely see more of these two! For now, I must let the writing demons out in my Dragon Age fic - time to terrorize another fandom!

132 notes · View notes

haveihitanerve · 16 days ago

Text

Priscillas Final Petal Commentary because one of you lovely children requested i do more of my comments and this was the first video i came across anyway-

(ok i came back afterwards and like good gods its a lot so umm, yeah if you dont care, dont click more bc its a lot to scroll past otherwise)

Luke giggling from the get go at Tom struggling to understand the word Petal

Tom getting the audience to agree the title is pretty good- meanwhile AJ and Luke making eye contact like 👀 you gonna be Priscilla or??? And then AJ nodding. So im pretty sure Luke was just like “you're gonna be her”

Luke zoning in to Tom’s speech to give a laugh and then immediately moving on to contemplate- meanwhile sam has been dissociating for like a few minutes already- looking to the cosmos for inspiration

All three background boys immediately tensing up when tom says applause bc the scene is starting- are they about to battle over who gets to be Priscilla???? We shall see…

Oh Sam made it there first but AJ was crawling so he's obvi the young girl- and Luke lost he has to stay seated :(

Tom’s little half chuckle at AJ’s “mummy” a split second before it registers with Luke that Sam is, in fact, not AJ’s mummy and cackling

AJ needing to physically touch Sam to be like “that's my bad dude” while grinning

Aj’s weird laugh at “just as cute as you” and then not letting the mummy thing drop bc ofc not why would he XD

“Wide girlish hips” Sam building himself to be the mother lovely lovely pre-planning

“Its a buttercup” beat of surprise because wow Sam didn't expect AJ to know a flower type

Luke’s neck stretch when Sam says “they’re magical” like oh really sam, are they?

“No could you tell… me” idk why he stuttered over that but very interesting and it got a luke laugh and AJ smile so no complaints

Aj complicating things as always, love our confused king

“....” AJ contemplating how he’s about to say this while still being a child.. “.... its magic” Luke and Tom losing it quietly in the background

The way Tom and Luke genuinely look when he holds up the NONEXISTENT FAKE FLOWER TO SEE IF SAM LIKES BUTTER

Also idk if it was intentional or not- but if Sam really is lactose intolerant, AJ just casually knows that he doesn't like butter and actually incorporated it in which is really cute actually- anyway-

“Or a- sandwich!” yes brilliant counter Aj, no one butters a sandwich-genius!

“I spent a lot of time making sure this garden looks lovely” as much as I appreciate the thought sam- hes already picked the flower. Its dead. it doesn't matter what AJ does to it now- its important to the plot moving on..

Aj once again trying to think of something clever to say- “why are you being weird?” nailed it!

“Ey-ey priscilla” yes tom, thats exactly how a mother speaks to her child in this- idk victorian era

“Is that my mummy this time?” just checking for the scene

Sam once again pointing out story flaws rapid quick- “no time for flowers” “why do you have me?” Luke laughing at it as always- also Tom i saw the flower movement- good stagecraft

Tom contemplating murder. “Because we don't have time.”

“Not anymore” very nice setting the tone for a plot i can feel it…

“Not. anymore.” yes it was necessary a second time…

Those english degrees coming in clutch “ivories tinkling”

AJ loves being a child character because it means he can ask questions to stuff he doesn't know in the scene lol

“When you get an elephant.” brilliant way to speak to a child again Tom, 10/10 mother

“And when you kill it reaaaallly good.” brilliant- got Luke to clap laugh, lovely

Sam working on stagecraft, good good

“Awww. No.”

“Can i take this?” “My pen?” for once its not AJ’s fault that the story breaks for a second! victory!

“Her stagecraft is remarkably weak.” oooohhhh shots fired

Tom tensing up like he’s about to jump back into the scene at that second to restore his honor

Yay luke made it into a scene!

Aj’s almost spit take- dude ur the main character you don't get breaks cmon!

Ok but seriously- they were all just going to sit there and watch luke sit in a chair on stage by himself and deliver a monologue or smth??? Like tom is completely at ease, hand propped on his leg watching him, sam is chilling, and aj is drinking- not one of them wanted to join/help him in the scene???? Anyway-

“Um.. da-du-de-” Luke cuts him off- Aj: oh thank god-

For a dude renowned for his lack of skill for remembering names he certainly picks very dangerous ones i gotta say

Luke attempting to make it easier for him. Helga

Luke's massive grin making Tom laugh- bc seriously what does that mean- “sense of familiarity with my students' with the creepiest smile??? Luke what-

“Four hours straight” gorgeous- we got a sam laugh

Why does luke look at the camera like he's in the office???

Luke is struggling to maintain the accent but its good, its good, you got this

“Perhaps selling her body” oooh were gonna have to rewind four times to see everyones reaction- number one- sam laughs loud in shock and surprise and then crosses his legs and covers his mouth- luke i sense a disciplinary meeting in your future- number two- AJ claps a hand over his mouth like a victorian widow learning shocking news(my personal fav of Aj’s laugh tendencies) number three- Tom actually laughs at that- mouth open in surprise, and we get a delightful little “oh wow” look/grin and number four- luke knows the words before they exit his mouth and he is enjoying it- recovers wildly quickly but that's our out of pocket king

“What’d you mean “selling her body”” oh now AJ is using his child question asking for evil hehehehe

And luke shutting it down.. Sigh

“Don't change my name.” oh AJ you were so close!!!

Tom’s mounting amusement as Luke says “jingle bells”

“Sometimes when im sad I tear off a petal” Tom laughing at the audacity but also- aj- thats terrifying- tf- imagine a little girl looks at you, pulls a flower out of her pocket, and rips off a petal. Like god damn im having nightmares ok-

“WHY ARE YOU SAD HELGA!” um- his name is priscilla, ur helga, also- also terrifying thanks

“No- i-im having a really good time.” uhuh yeah. Me too :) *afraid*

Idk if AJ actually forgot or just wanted to be annoying but how do you forget jingle bells-

“Darling.” *shuffle shuffle* “hi :)” oh sam is afraid- that smile- tom is gonna get him back for the stagecraft comment now, i can feel it. Ohhh sam can too

“Such a shame we couldn't send her to boarding school the old fashioned way.” “..??” “paying for it.” thats actually brilliant- im stealing that for everyday use-

While Tom is speaking about Priscillas talent- AJ watching from the corner with his tongue in his cheek- just waiting for his musical talent to be insulted lol(also very attractive look gotta say-)

“Earl of saxony.” idk why this made luke laugh but its such a delight to see him slowly spiral into heavier laughter

Also- he snaps out of it so fast- immediately joins the scene- brilliant

AJ amused because Luke’s getting yelled at and not him

Poor luke cant even sit down because theyd still come after him lmaoo

“I hope your kid dies of tuberculosis” damn! Again, stealing that

The really awkward Tom reach forward to put his hand on Sam’s shoulder kills me every time. Especially because his arm flexes like a beat before he does it- should i, should i not- before going for it lol

“Garden.” oh rumpled has some feelings he’d like resolved…

“We used to go through strolls…” “we did used to go through strolls, i cant go through any more of them.” This entire scene kills me so much i adore it yes Tom, preach. Sam always gives everyone else so much shit- uno reverse baby!!! XD

Luke and AJ loosing their minds is also my life blood

Sam confused as to how its wrong- but wants to correct “You didn't let me finish.”

Tom put his entire cunt into that leg cross and perch of his fingers against his chin, slay king

“We used to go through strolls through the orchard.” Oh- now tom seizes the opportunity to do some stage craft just to add extra salt on the wound-

Tom’s disappointed head shake as Luke and AJ explode with laughter is my everything

Sam’s angry rant of “is that not correct?? No- no- no- because you've got two english degrees” idk but the fact that he just knows that so quickly is everything to me

AJ and Tom are enjoying this far too much- both arching forward to listen because they're little shits :)

“It is both incorrect and Im busy on my stagecraft right now so-” (ok to anyone who is just as confused as sam- the correct terminology would be “we used to go for strolls” not through or “we went on strolls” etc etc)

“Darling borrow my newspaper.” Oooh sam I see you- trying to mess with Tom’s stagecraft make him seem like its so poor he’s “reading newspaper” when hes clearing eating… smth, idk but very clever, very clever

Also- pointing it out- firstly its probably because they know the other person would never let it go- but secondly, they're so dedicated and such good actors to their craft that Sam literally reaches over and removes the nonexistent newspaper off the nonexistent food- idk it just makes me happy. Also they do it so well

‘WHOS STAGECRAFT IS WEAK NOW DARLI-” yes tom, get your revenge lol

“...doesn't it?” oh yes sam, create a new plot point and then require Tom to expand upon it and create the actual story. Brilliant thinking and a dick move but its so funny

Shit eating grin the whole time too

“It. does.” tom said calmly

“Why are you laughing at me now, i cant fire you.” lol tom never change

Ok Tom didn't like Sam’s interruption so now he's changing the plot and making it a horror story- we love, we love

Aj’s hand covering mouth laughter again, love it sm

“That should be quite obvious. The fact that were having to discuss it at all is inane and foolish” ok so tom is still not over the stagecraft comment- got it

Luke's laughter from backstage- still not sitting down because hes afraid

“This is the prettiest i ever saw her.” SAM HES STILL MAD ABOUT STAGECRAFT NO- “WOW.” aaand there it is. ofc tom is now an ally of the dead wife just to spite sam lmaooo

“A girl like me-” AJ’s hand laugh again <333

“Selling your body.” smooth tom, smooth

“No more violence” veryyy smooth sam

“That bitch.” he had to- also, Tom, where’d the cigarette come from- when’d you light it- stagecraft people!!!

“I lit this cigarette on a candle.” ah- there it is “what wonderful stagecraft-” and AJ ends it because otherwise they’d keep it up forever i just know. Entertaining- but not very helpful to the story sadly lol

Luke pointing out the flaws, “which is a region in germany, despite half the workforce being english and the other german” slay king slay

Excellent stagecraft AJ, 10/10 of opening the window

Excellent voice acting, all around- Sam’s… owl hooting thats the one, perfect- and Tom’s really creepy “come to the garden” is top notch- so thats why he was so insulted on… Annabelle's behalf- he is her

“Buttercup im a little bit scared” why is he talking to the flower now- this wasn't in the trailer-

“But ill use you to- *breaks* shine a light- *laughs* so i can see*grinning*” everyone breaks and its beautiful

Wholly shit- AJ understanding immediately and perfectly that Sam standing up and going “fwoosh” was him pretending to be the owl and not being confused like “tf are you doing” is such good subtle accuracy and just shows how long they’ve been together and- i need to calm down

“Strange mound by a tree” subtle aj, very subtle

Oh!- oh!- oh, nope Luke, sorry, Tom beat you to it again. Damn. now he gets to be the dead wife- not you. (as much as you want to be sam’s lover- who said that?)

Pointing the flower like its a glock… very nice stagecraft aj, wonderfully done

“I cant see, I don't have my buttercup with me” brilliant work luke, smashing really- call back and humor, all in one five stars 👏

AJ being taller than sam- randomly standing now also, instead of kneeling like before, Priscilla had a random growth spurt- anyway- and not making a single effort to even pretend be shorter for the crying scene gives me life

AJ DOING BETTER MATH THAN SAM!!! YAY!!!

“Why are you speaking in the third person?” good recovery sam, now the attentions back on AJ

“What will really happen?” “you'll become lactose intolerant.” AJ side eyeing Tom, currently sitting with the audience like, “you sure? Thats all thatll happen?”

Whoever was sitting in the audience and did a dramatic inhale when Sam went “and you'll break the c-” i love you

“You were going to say break the curse.” AJ's so proud he managed to piece that one together

“No thats not- no!” AJ let himself come out a lil- sweety, baby, you're supposed to be a three foot tall little girl, not a six foot tall man, he is towering over Sam, thats not how Priscilla works- moving on

“Y'know before i was a groundskeeper here…” “oh boy.” yeah aj, you regret tempting him now

Assassin was the last thing on my bingo card of things i thought sam would say but ok

“I feel like this is above my paygrade.” so now luke is trying to weasel out of a scene instead of into it… hmmm

“Im part of the yorkshire reserves.” idk what kinda inside joke this is, but it took luke out, dude literally did a disappointed tom dad head shake and covered his whole face with only one hand, goodness sam

“You say ‘would you like a nice cup o’ tea?’... and then you stab ‘em.” Sam i love you, never change

“When i went over to that buttercup… nest.” Ig AJ doesn't know the name for flowerbed but okay(even tho im pretty sure he said it earlier but wtv) Luke’s laugh literally gave me chills, firstly it was delayed, secondly its the deepest its ever been and just like-wow

“I have a real mum!” “no!... no.. no.” so i guess everyone is taking their cues from Tom and repeating things more than once to highlight the importance. Also Aj barely holding back a smile is so cute- especially since Sam can smile at him bc hes not facing the audience

And luke loosing his mind to laughter again, always a classic

“Uh i went scottish there-” just amusing to me

“But luckily im also a wizard.” very very very smooth sailing sam, classically done, nice way to round out the story

Luke loosing his mind, AJ almost breaking on stage, and we cant see Tom but im pretty sure hes losing it as well

“Magic!” I just adore every time AJ says magic in his little girl voice, its so precious

“Leave it. Or I’ll bleed you.” well thats a threat if i've ever heard one oh my gods- AJ looks terrified

“I will protect you with the best stagecraft you've ever seen.” Ahh good ol tom with the one liners who breaks everybody

(sam and aj leaning against each other with their laugh ahdtbdjhfgtgewbsdc- too cute<33)

“Don't bitch out on me” -luke moved too fast, AJ broke before he was sitting back down XD

“What are you sinking about?” ok idk if Luke knows or not, but thats a common german meme, im not gonna write it all down rn but no one laughed so im assuming he doesn't know, anyway made me chuckle, moving on

Sam losing his mind at “i called you helga” as he should

TOM HOPPING ON STAGE FROM WHERE HES SITTING IN THE AUDIENCE TO JOIN THE SHOW- i cant with this man seriously XD

“With you two bvitches!” you tell 'em Aj(also yes the v is intentional, he said with with pizzazz and thats what the v adds)

“I don't like music it sounds the same!” as a person who pursues music- y'know what ill let it lie nvmind

“You always make me playing fffff-fucking jingle bells” y'know what its understandable now, carry on,

“Whos annabelle.” ok screw this audience- no one gasped dramatically or ooohhhhed- HE JUST REVEALED A MAJOR PLOT POINT GUYS SHOW SOME EMOTION- i need to calm down

Ok Tom chuckled in the audience and its redemption enough for me- he even moved his shoulders with laughter- ok im back in it

Sam’s forced smile at “rumple told me” is so iconic he did that so well omg-

“GET PLUCKING!” might be the scariest thing i've ever heard- but it was accompanied by a lovely luke laugh so its balanced

“She was not… well.” “OH. WOW” tom can be offended on his own behalf this time

“She was cruel, she was cold… and her stagecraft was terrible.” YES SAM- SNAP SNAP- SLAY DIVA YESSSS

Also everyone breaking on stage is lovely, always love the shared laughs

“I will accept two of those three criticisms.” how gracious tom

Complaining about past skits/productions, sam is just airing out all his grievances i love them so much omg-

Luke literally folding from laughter

“Well if you bury all your women..” Sam’s hand snapped up so fast. “One. I've only buried one.” ☝️

AJ SINGING!!! YESSSS

The utter chaos in this scene is the best thing in the world, all four of them on stage at once is always a treat

… is tom sucking Luke’s soul out of his body through his face using his hand? I have so many questions...

…why did it make him snap his own neck????

Why are they harmonizing?!?!?!

Sam literally she hates you because you always insult her stagecraft and when she digs her way out of hell the first thing you do is insult her stagecraft??? I mean, it is, admittedly, confusing stagecraft… but THATS NOT THE POINT!

“Oh i don't like this at all!” nor do i sam… nor do i… *the writer is horrified… and very amused*

THEY KILLED SAM?!?!?!?!?!?!

Also AJ casually successfully mouthing every word Tom says is insane skill and very well done

“Mummy…” ok.. And aj takes the most terrifying person crown again…

“Piano lesson.” yeah im sensing a lot of pent up anger…

"Plinky plonky. Every day.” sounds like a legitimate reason, but if she thinks plinky plonky is the sound a piano makes then i understand why shes in lessons-

Also- aj successfully made tom crack a smile on stage, well done

Also aj- made eye contact with luke off stage and made him fold again

“You look different.” Ok but Tom’s hand raised and like, little crimp is so totally a mom move his stagecraft is excellent-

“Have you had your-*stutters* first period?” now thats class A humor, and im so glad it broke aj and sam

AND IT MADE LUKE DO DISAPPOINTED DAD HEAD SHAKE AND HAND OVER FACE. good work tom

“Is it a light, medium or heavy flow?” y'know what im so fucking glad he knows what those all are, and i know the others do too, love them all truly

Tom having to run back and forth as both mothers… ahhhh i love when they play two interacting characters its so funny

“Get out of my daughter” careful word choice tom… yep- sams exploding with laughter, luke is dying, and even AJ is blinking at you in concern(tbf tom immediately regretted it, but it was worth the laughs)

“Mummy help!” “can you clarify which one you're talking to?” Tom never change, i love you. “Im talking to my mummy!” im assuming he means the one thats not possessing him, and honestly thats so cute, aj knows what the people want, and the people want priscilla to love her adopted/found family?? Mother- anyway keep watching to see..

… what is it with them breaking Tom’s fingers???

… did sam just “rumple” charge his wand by like.. Loading it like a shotgun??? stagecraft…

Oh ok they're two separate things…

The slow mo i adore these idiots omg-

“You're only making our bond stronger-” before he even finished AJ is pulling closer again, damn to have that instinctual friendship is insane

AJ SINGING!!!!

“Shut the fuck up” aj hes trying to further the plot- shhhh

Quick thinking Luke- Priscilla, Queen of the Dessert, real song, totally real, good good great, you could've said literally anything else, but ok

Tom switching to the adoptive mother because thats the one who really knows her is honestly so sweet- my heart

Sam getting to shoot Tom is always great. Working out their anger in a calm, reasonable manner

“Wow.” tom is really milking these wows huh

“I mean she did raise you.” Tom just cause he doesn't know the word “biological mother” doesn't mean- y'know what whatever- Aj i understand what you mean- you're a good daughter !

“No don't fuck with me like that okay?” yes aj! Fight back(casually drops the girl voice to become AJ to actually yell at Tom, ugh i love him)

“Ill be seeing you… ill be seeing youuuu” again with the repetitions goodness

“Byebye.” damn it tom he almost made it without breaking!

“AND SCENE!” From both Sam and Luke. perfect ending.

Tom finally rejoining the stage and exiting the audience

Anyway thats all, thanks for reading this entire like book worth of comments, lots to say and lots of it is meaningless but anyway hope it added a dash more humor to their brilliance and yeah… my thoughts 🙂

@dawn-speckled you said you wanted my thoughts and damn do i have a lot of them lol, anyway hope it brought you some joy:)

#shoot from the hip #sfth #priscillas last petal #tom mayo #luke manning #alexander jeremy #sam russell #i love these little dorks #silly little goobers #my thoughts #sry its so long #i just love them so much #anyway #byebye

65 notes · View notes

glowupwithamy · 10 months ago

Text

Solitude is your path of personal independence -

Being alone makes me really happy its like my special place where i can be myself and feel good i don't feel the need for another person to take responsibility for my happiness and emotional needs and i don't really want somebody in the phase i am in i can think and be creative without any interruptions it's like a peaceful break from everything else

Being alone helps me find peace in simple things like reading or walking outside these moments refresh me and make me feel more creative. Being alone also helps me understand myself better now I can think deeply about my feelings and thoughts which helps me grow as a person indeed.

Solitude is a phase that teaches you how to handle your emotions and bad days without relying on someone else. It actually teaches you how to live without depending on others and without ranting about your problems to them

And i want to message those people who constantly seek emotional support from everyone and keep crying that they need someone i feel they need to work on themselves or they have to accept the situation and think about what they can do themselves..instead of constantly seeking attention. Seeking attention all the time makes you mentally weak remember that. I feel that they should question themselves "Why do i need someone else am i not enough?"

Being alone doesn't mean staying comfortable It's about finding strength and discovering who you are ...it's about facing challenges, overcoming fears, and becoming stronger ..when you're alone you have the power to chase your dreams and conquer obstacles so don't think it's not brave to be alone it actually shows how strong and determined you really are.

Solitude makes you quickly observe things around you apart from the world of social media. If you begin on a journey of self discovery and learn to be with yourself ...you won't feel the need for others as much. This journey is very difficult I'm not saying that it's easy lol no!! especially for those who can't live without relying on others but if you want your future self to thank you then don't hesitate just start today . Because today's generation is busy distracting people but we need to bring self control. If you want to understand yourself better.

It took me three years to get in this habit and now i don't need anyone. I don't like to share my problems with anyone because i don't feel it's necessary. I have made myself mentally strong to the point where i don't feel the need for a second person

Last Note :

And if you guys have any questions or anything to ask related to this don't hesitate you can ask me freely :) thanks for giving your time

I have a self discovery questions sheets so that you can guys know yourself better if you want that Dm me 🎀

278 notes · View notes

mercutio-the-velaryon · 2 months ago

Text

Okay, the Twitter takes are pissing me awfff, so let's get this straight and then never talk about it again.

The conversation between Mel and Jayce in the council room definitely should have taken place at some point. I think it was better suited to have happened at an earlier point, like episode one. However, the conversation itself fell very flat, and its contents failed to properly reflect the issue with Mel and Jayce's relationship dynamic.

In the confrontation Jay asks, with a very fragmented mind, whether she only protected her and Jayce on purpose, she says no, he says I can't believe that because of you using victor and me for hextech and calling us investments.

This accusation doesn't really make any sense, because although her actions and methods were unethical making a business investment out of hextech does not align with the extremities of purposefully not protecting the other in the council room.

Let me be clear, it is blatantly obvious that Jayce only makes this accusation because he has been through the mental and physical ringer. That is part of the reason why I think this conversation should've happened earlier so the real issues could've been addressed. Because now within context, his almost valid criticism is treated as lashing out, and it has to be swept under the rug because we got war the next episode.

Now for a breakdown:

Mel and Jayce's relationship was imbalanced from its inception. He had piqued her political interest from the moment he stood before the council for his unlawful science experiments. She was interested in Hextech from the jump but didn't make it known until she knew it was a beneficial venture. But that wasn't a problem that was the fall of the first domino.

Throughout their relationship, Mel is always one or two steps ahead of Jayce. She leads and guides him to make decisions that she deems necessary to attain the power and influence required to improve Piltover. I believe that she wants Jayce to fully realise his dream of helping the masses, due to her being an empath, she takes on his wants and desires which results in his success mattering more and more to her as the story progresses.

So, she is well intentioned but inconsiderate of the fact that Jayce rarely wants to be where she encourages him to go he just has an unshakeable sense of responsibility. She orchestrates behind the scenes for his benefit, springs investors on him, and advocates for his place on the council, all without any discussion or proper dialogue with he who it does concern. It's kind of funny that she's very considerate of him, but she doesn't consult him on anything. She's already made up her mind when they speak; she goes to convince not to discuss.

Let me very quickly assert that I don't think what Mel does obstructs his autonomy or his own free will, she offers and he accepts and he always has the option not to but he rarely does mainly because I think he's a people pleaser and he also holds Mel in high regard.

Let us also remember that he is an educated man from a House in Piltover with a sponser from the council he is a man of privilege his social status is his largest obstacle to realising his dream because he isn't even versed in the complex issues of the people he's trying to help.

Considering all of this, the conversation in the council room followed by Jayce's non-apology and their subsequent break-up scene that was more a viscerally implied break up than explicity stated (which I think was an odd choice because they'd known each other for years and they just kind of fizzle out) are an ill match to what actually transpired between them.

There was such an amazing opportunity for them to have a compelling dialogue about their relationship imbalance. If it had been more two-sided, we could have had Jayce bring up being used as a political pawn but also bearing the weight of his own choices, and Mel being emotionally closed off and unreachable.

It should have played out like a tennis match until both of them lost. Then, for the break up, if thats what it was, they were still characters who meant a lot to each other and deserved a just goodbye, featuring a little hand holding and Mel pulls away first and then they walk away from each other.

In general, Mel, as a character, endured a lot with little to no triumph or compensation. For example, the next time we see Mel after that she's trying to talk her mother down speaks "out of turn" and ends up getting bitch slapped by her I mean...

And you can argue that becoming the wolf was triumphant. I would say that it was a very bittersweet moment with an emphasis on bitter because that felt like the passing on of a generational curse.

You could also argue that Jayce had endured a lot by that point. Well... yes! He did, and he didn't seek comfort in her. He couldn't. He wasn't asking for it like she was. He also got to die in the arms of the person he loved, man got glorious closure, no notes.

I think the scene with Jayce also revealed how isolated Mel is as a character. In the sense that she feels so separated from the main narrative, like if you culled her entire storyline, it wouldn't change much. She also has no other established relationships of depth among the protagonists, no dynamic with anyone, her final battle is her and Cait teaming up, and they don't really mean anything to each other. Which sounds irrelevant until you consider how inextricably linked everyone else is.

And yes, they were both somewhat Ambessa's heirs in some capacity more figuratively for Cait, but it fell just fell short emotionally especially in contrast to Ekko and Jinx and Jinx and Vi and even Ekko and Jayvik because they're the science buffs and the kid straight out of Zaun with no formal education shattered time. Ugh, now that's a Triumph!

#arcane #mel medarda #arcane spoilers #jayce talis #address the gun chekhov #arcane season 2

62 notes · View notes

ranhaitanisgf · 1 year ago

Note

May I request Ran with “enemies/rivals to lovers” where Ran accidentally hurts reader (with his words), he goes too far. Usually they tease and make fun of each other but this really hurt y/n, maybe it was one of her insecurities. Anyways, he makes it up too her by taking her “star gazing” and apologizing to her. Thanks!!!!!!!!

— ran haitani // enemies to lovers // stargazing

☆ ˎˊ˗ did i go overboard. well yes. but i chose this one in honor of changing my username ! im in love w this man ur honor. srsly tho i loveee writing the silly little banter with the ran fics its actually so fun :D hope yall enjoyyyy xoxo

☆ ˎˊ˗ fem!reader implied

☆ ˎˊ˗ wc ; 2.0k+

masterlist || 2k masterlist

you’re not exactly sure what’s going on right now.

one moment, you were lazing around your apartment, watching a drama and eating all the junk food you could see, and the next moment you were slung over ran haitani’s shoulder.

what?

if you’d known that answering the door would have resulted in this, you would have just ignored it.

“you stupid motherfucker!! let me down right now!!” you yelled, wiggling around trying to escape. ran’s grip around you was iron tight, making it next to impossible to try and get out. “can you just leave me the hell alone?! i was watching my drama!!”

“nope.”

“god, you’re such a douchebag sometimes.” you sighed, feeling defeated. there was probably no way you were going to escape back to your apartment if you hadn’t by this point, so you gave up. “what do you even want from me?? i thought you said you don’t like to talk to girls who are nerds ‘cause they freak you out or something.”

“...”

“are you even going to tell me where we’re going??”

“...”

“ran haitani!! answer me!!” ran said nothing once again, completely ignoring you as he exited your apartment building. as he kept walking, you heard the faint rumble of an engine, the rumble getting louder as he kept walking.

finally, his grip loosened around you, though you were a bit caught off guard by how gently he let you down from his shoulder. his hands held you steady by your waist as you stumbled a bit, feeling a bit dizzy from being upside down.

“ran, seriously, what’re you doing…?” you muttered, brushing his hands off from you. “it’s like 9pm! why are you here?!”

“get on.”

“what?” you got no response, instead watching as he settled himself in the front seat of his motorcycle, which you now realized was the cause of the rumbling sound.

“are you going to get on?” ran asked, turning his head a bit to look at you. you think that your big mistake here was looking him in his eyes; when you saw the emotion and turmoil swirling in his hazy purple irises, you couldn’t help but to oblige.

“fine, but only ‘cause you’re acting weird. if someone breaks into my apartment, you have to pay for everything since i know you didn’t lock the door.” you muttered, getting on the back seat of his motorcycle.

you waited for the bike to revv up and for him to start driving, but he paused for a moment, seeming to be thinking. after a moment, he turned around and reached behind you, searching for something in the back compartment. that same cool expression was on his face, making you feel a bit dumb for feeling so flustered at the sudden lack of space between the two of you. for crying out loud, his face was right next to yours! how was he so calm?

you couldn’t help but notice that he had foregone his usual braids, instead leaving his hair down. the way that his hair framed his face now covered the sharpness of some of his facial features, making him seem a lot less intimidating and more soft than he normally was.

he let out a small hum when he found what he was looking for, leaning back from you holding a helmet in his hands. he gently put it on your head, looking at you for a moment longer than was probably necessary before turning back around, his back to you.

what the hell…

as ran started drive off, you realized that there was a con to him having his hair down; as he started to speed up, his hair whipped right in your face, making you sputter as you tried to avoid it.

“if it’s bothering you, come closer.” you heard him say. you had no idea what kind of face he was making right now, though it was probably the same cool and collected expression as always. what did he even mean by that? does he know how suggestive he sounds?

as much as you didn’t like him, you also didn’t like having his hair continuously assaulting your face, so you scooted a bit closer to him. as he said, it was a little bit better, though his hair was still getting in your face.

you were finally given a break at the next stoplight, giving you a moment to take in the cool night’s air. despite the strange circumstances, you had to admit that being on a motorcycle always gave you a sense of comfort in some kind of way. you enjoyed feeling the wind on your face and seeing everything passing by; it made it seem like nothing else in the world mattered except for that moment.

suddenly, you felt yourself being pushed forward a whole lot more than was considered ‘friendly’. your chest made contact with ran’s back, your head awkwardly propped near his shoulder. looking to the side, you realized that ran had hooked his arm around your back and had pushed you forward, which you found to be somewhat of a feat considering the distance between the two of you, (you supposed he had his lanky arms and stature to thank for that).

“hey! what the hell was that?!”

“just helpin’ you out, doll.”

“whatever.”

despite the flippant way you muttered the word, you could feel the nervousness all bundled up inside you, twisting your stomach into knots. you weren’t sure what to even think at this point; what was he even trying to do here? last time you’d seen him…

“you freak me out when you talk like that; you’re really gonna be single forever if you keep acting like that.”

so what the hell was he doing now? why was he suddenly acting like nothing had happened?

although your thoughts were troubled by his strange behavior, you felt a bit awkward just leaning against him like a noodle, so you hesitantly wrapped your arms around his waist, keeping your grip loose. there were no words exchanged between the two of you for the rest of the drive, which gave you plenty of time to try and decipher his odd behavior.

you weren’t sure how much time passed before ran pulled over to the side of the road, slowing down and coming to a stop. your arms unwrapped themselves from around his waist and you leaned back, looking around.

he had brought you to a quiet part of the sumida river, the land around you slowly dipping until it met with the edges of the river. looking around, you couldn’t see any part of tokyo or any city buildings closeby, making you wonder just how far away he had taken you.

“hey, where are we right now?” you asked, getting off of his bike and stretching a bit. “it feels like we came kind of a long way.”

“i just followed the river for a bit. we aren’t too far from tokyo.” ran answered, flipping the kickstand down as he got off his bike. he pocketed his keys and slipped his fingers through his hair, fixing it a bit after the wind messed it up a bit.

“so, are you going to tell me why we’re here?”

“come on.” ran walked in front of you, walking down the steep grassy hill towards the river. you reluctantly followed, jogging a bit to catch up with his long strides.

“y’know, with the cryptic way you’re acting, i could think that you brought me here to murder me or something.”

“...”

“uh, ran? you’re not actually gonna murder me, right?”

“no.”

“okay, right.” the two of you reached the bottom of the hill, standing there for a moment before ran laid down. you were unsure of what exactly was going on, but you laid down next to him, getting a bit worried.

“hey…did something happen? is everything alright?” you were facing the sky that was littered with stars, but you could tell that ran was taking a moment to think before saying something.

“you could say that.”

“huh? what-?”

“you’ve been avoiding me, haven’t you?”

“...” now you were the one who was silent, unsure of how to respond to his question. he was right; you had been avoiding him. it wasn’t his fault that you had gotten butthurt over what was supposed to be a joke, but you hadn’t been able to help your feelings. the two of you joked and insulted each other all the time, so why was it that you were so hurt over that one comment?

you already knew why, but you weren’t going to tell him, not in a million years.

“you know i didn’t mean it.”

“i don’t know, maybe you did.” you answered flatly. “i don’t know why you even hang out with me. i’m always wondering if you’re gonna just up and leave one day and never talk to me again.”

“i wouldn’t do that to you.”

“you can’t say it’s not outside of your character though, can you? you’ve done that to other people, no?”

“it’s different with you.” you laughed coldly at that, choosing to ignore it.

“why are you even bringing this up right now? why come all the way here to talk about this when we could have just talked outside of my apartment?” you peered over at ran, feeling a bit infuriated to see the same damn expression on his face as always.

“am i not allowed to do something to try and apologize?” he asked, suddenly sitting up and looking towards you. “you’re right that i’ve done that to other people, but you’re not other people. you…” for the first time, you saw his face screw up in frustration, eyebrows scrunched together and lips pressed together. “fuck…you’re just different, okay? i felt like shit after i said that crap, and i felt even more shitty when you started avoiding me. so-” he took a breath, his face going back to his usual calm expression. “-i’m sorry.”

what. just. happened.

for a longer time than you would care to admit, you laid there staring at him with your mouth wide open, wondering if you were in the real world. to be fair, how were you supposed to believe this was real? the ran haitani, apologizing? to you?

“you…you’re not fucking with me, right?” you questioned, sitting up slowly.

“...no.” ran murmured, his gaze fixed on the river in front of you. “i can take you back home now, if you want.”

“no!” ran quirked an eyebrow at you at your sudden response, his violet gaze turning to you. “i mean, uh, it’s fine. i like it here.” ran smirked a bit at your explanation, laying back down.

“y’know doll, if i didn’t know any better, i would say that you’re nervous right now. why’re you nervous, hm?” the teasing lilt to his words made your cheeks feel warm, making you lay back down to avoid his gaze.

“you think i’m nervous? i’m not nervous, i don’t know what you’re talking…about…” your words tapered off as ran moved closer to you, his arm slipping under your frame and pulling you against him. he tucked your head under his chin, his arm moving to rest around your waist.

“hm, i guess you’re not nervous then. what a shame. you’re pretty cute when you’re nervous~” the close proximity allowed you to feel the vibrations of his voice rumbling through his chest as he spoke, making your heartbeat speed up exponentially.

“what…what do you think you’re-?”

“shh, look at the stars. that’s why i brought you here.” for some reason, his words immediately shut you up, your emotions being too extreme to say anything snarky back. all you knew at that moment was ran; his voice and the teasing tone he always has, his hair that’s splayed all around him making it seem like he’s an angel, his lazy purple eyes that are looking at you right now despite him saying to look at the sky.

“you-”

“shh.”

you supposed that you could just look at the stars for now.

313 notes · View notes

freyito · 3 months ago

Text

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ʀᴇꜱᴏʀᴛ

✭ pairing(s): clive rosfield x gn reader

✩ inspo: yk that one note by tarja in the infirmary? yeah.

✩ in which: tarja had requested you bring rope to the infirmary. you wonder why.

✧ a/n: THIS HAS BEEN ON MY MIND FOREVER ITS SO FUNNY TO ME IMAGINE TARJA TYING THIS FREAK DOWN. PLEASE.

✦ taglist: @shinysora

🗒 cw: gn reader, kicked puppy clive, not proofread

✎ wc: 2.0k

Well, Tarja was good on her word. You were used to little runs to the infirmary, deliveries of herbs and what not. But when she asked for some rope, you couldn’t help but wonder what it was for. You do your best not to pry in on her patients and who needs what herbs, focusing on just what herbs she needed. But… rope? You were sure there was plenty in the infirmary. Still, you’d rather not get an earful, so you obliged.

And, well, you were treated to quite the scene. Clive, or Cid, genuinely tied down. It was rare of you to see Clive look so pathetic in a way, battered and bruised from god knows what. You’ve never seen him like this; granted, he tends to run off halfway through his treatment (i.e. the rest period). And with him tied down to the bed, he looked even more sorrowful, like a dog who was left out in the rain. If you hadn’t been poking around in Tarja’s journals when she was away, you would’ve thought this was some bizarre new treatment.

“Ah, good, you’re here,” Tarja immediately holds out her hand, beckoning you over. “I was starting to fear the beast would break his chains.”

Jill, next to Clive, lets out a chuckle, while Clive couldn’t be more displeased. You’d rather not end up like him, so you are quick to place the rope in Tarja’s hand.

“Tarja, please, this is embarrassing…” Clive protests weakly, his voice strained as if he had been struggling to break free for hours.

“Oh, really? Would you rather lose your head when you keel over in battle?” Tarja retorts, kneeled beside the bedside to tie more ropes around poor Clive. “You need to rest before throwing yourself into the fray again, you understand that, right? Ugh, you types are so aggravating!”

The room falls silent at that, save for Clive’s insistent grunts of struggle. Meanwhile, Tarja had just finished up with the second layer of rope. All you can do is really watch, too dumbstruck to speak, too astounded to laugh. You fear if you laugh or so much as giggle, you might earn Clive’s ire, as rare as it may be. At the same time, you simply can’t make fun of a patient, no matter how silly the occurrence is. If you told anyone, Tarja would have your head. Patient Confidentiality and all that. For now, this matter was one confined to the four people in the room.

As funny as you find this, poor Clive looked absolutely embarrassed, his cheeks flushed redder than you’ve ever seen him. Jill did her best to stifle her laughter, turning her head and covering her mouth. This seemed to make Clive deflate even more, turning his head away from her and towards you. The look he gives you is pitiful, one of a mangy, starving dog on the street. Yet it succeeds in heating up your cheeks, and taking pity on him. Have you ever seen such a hardened man turn into something so soft?

“Is this truly necessary…?” With a sigh, you turn to Tarja. “The man killed Kupka for Founder’s sake, we don’t need to punish him.”

“Are you not as sick as I am when he runs off without proper rest?” While her tone is harsh and she’s quite loud, you know she means none of this irritation towards you.

“Oh, I am, but…” You look back at Clive, who’s pride seems to mend. “He just avenged all of those we lost, must we really confine him like this?”

This seems to have talked some sense to Tarja, and she takes a moment to think about it. Wounded he may be, and stubborn at that, he did bring a sense of victory and cheer to the Hideaway that had been lost in recent days. In recent years, more of. It is nothing short of rude to tie the hero to a cot, even if he’s too damned stubborn to rest.

“Okay, okay, you’re right,” Tarja scoffs, before shaking her head. “But I am going to let him wallow like this for a minute longer. Perhaps he’ll think twice before he leaves the infirmary without resting.”

“Tarja!” Clive whines, struggling a little more with the look of a kicked puppy.

You turn your head, closing your eyes and willing yourself to shut up. You fear if you stare any longer you will enjoy the view. Not that you weren’t already, but it was starting to get to you! That, and you wanted to laugh so badly, but not at poor Clive’s condition. He was still a patient, as you keep repeating to yourself. Eventually, the awkward silence in the room feels like it’s too much to bear, and so you make your way out of the infirmary. You didn’t want to leave Clive alone, not without a voice of reason, but you had a feeling you’d done all you could. At the very least, Tarja would let him free sooner rather than in three days' time.

You’d hope you’d see him wandering around soon, to affirm that Tarja hadn’t kept him tied down. At the same time, you’d rather see him tied down than walking about, knowing he’d most likely be rushing off to another mission. And that’d earn him an indefinite spot in the Infirmary, strapped to the bed. If someone hauled him in. He’d most likely avoid it after this, not that you could blame him. But, just for extra measure, you’d make sure to drill it into him that he really should be resting after exerting himself so much. Just because you saved him doesn’t mean you aren’t of the same mind as Tarja, you’d just rather not involve ropes.

Now that you’ve (hopefully) saved the day, you feel like you’re going to burst if you don’t tell someone of the scene you just saw. You know you should be quiet and keep it to yourself, but it’s too damn much! If you don’t tell someone, anyone, you’ll die! You hurry back to the ale hall to at least find someone to chat with, and if not, you’ll drink your weight in ale and ‘accidentally’ let it slip.

Before you even reach the hall, Gav has a hand on your shoulder. He’s chipper as always, a grin on his face and the confidence you only wish you had.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost! What was goin’ on in the infirmary…?” He cocks his head to the side. He is just begging to be told. Seems you’ve found your victim. “Don’t tell me Tarja’s got you runnin’ ‘round for more herbs.”

“No, no, nothing like that. Lady Tarja… she’s kind. As long as you follow her instructions…” You shake your head, debating to just drop it on Gav.

“Well, then you should have no reason for lookin’ so afraid… right?”

Oh, Great Greagor. You don’t care about getting out of this. You need to tell him.

“No! No, uhm, well…” Your unsure tone turns into something more upbeat, something mirthful. “She’s got Clive tied up in there.”

“WHAT!?” Gav’s mouth drops, squeezing your shoulder, before he looks back to where you came from. “She’s got Ci–”

You slap a hand over his mouth before he can continue, looking around at the few people who had turned their heads towards you. You give Gav an angry look, one that’s on par with Tarja’s. He shuts up immediately, an almost fearful look in his eyes.

“You keep your mouth shut, okay? I’m not looking to end up like him,” You huff, taking your hand off his mouth. He nods vigorously. “Not. A. Word.”

“Yessir!” Gav states dramatically, giving you a proper salute like you were Clive himself, before darting off to the infirmary. You hope for your sake, he’s quiet about it, and that Clive has already been freed of such humiliation.

Sure enough, before Gav can even open the door, Clive is stepping out, as if he has completely ignored Tarja’s instruction for rest. Before he can spot you from far off, you duck your head and make for the ale hall, hoping now to hide away in a bowl of stew and a cup of… water. Yes, water. Something that won’t loosen your tongue. Maybe you’ll just crash in your quarters instead. Suddenly, you’re feeling very guilty over telling one soul. And the fact that Clive didn’t seem to learn his lesson doesn’t help.

You walk quicker, order your food even more hurriedly, and take a seat down at one of the tables. You settle once you're there, as if the air of tension has lifted. You fidget a little, like you had just stolen something, but no one can blame you, right? Suddenly what you’ve seen feels like an information hazard. Cid the Outlaw, who’s killed Hugo Kupka, and Benedikta Harman, shattered two mother crystals, and who has been carrying the plight of Bearers on his back, tied up and helpless. You still want to laugh. And you aren’t too prideful to admit that he’s a dashing man. Not that your relationship was any secret. But it felt wrong seeing that. Isn’t that a scene for the bedroom?

Bedroom or not, something was just so compromising about seeing him like that. And given the fact he was already up and walking around, you fear that his fate is sealed. Tarja will tie him to the cot once more, or forever more, and he will be forced to rest. What a horrible fate.

Just as you're mourning your boyfriend, he has the gall to show up. So smoothly, as if everything hadn’t happened, he sits down across from you with a warm smile.

“I have to thank you for saving me,” He chuckles, a warm blush dusting his cheeks. “I don’t know how long she would’ve kept me there.”

You want to say ‘you’re welcome’, but at the same time you also know he needs his rest. He can act as warm as he wants, but just because you saved him from that humiliation doesn’t mean you wanted him up. Especially after fighting Titan. So, you embody Tarja.

“No. No, you–” You point at him, “– are going to go back to the infirmary. Or your room. And you are going to rest. For a week.”

His demeanor changes, he wears the same expression Gav has. Are you truly that terrifying?

“No running off for a mission. No getting up to train.” You continue, pressing your finger into the table. “You will listen to Tarja and I’s instructions. If you try to run off, I won’t save you next time she decides you need three times the rope to be restrained.”

Clive deflates slightly, like rest is his greatest nightmare, and you are sentencing him an eternity to it. Or as if he believes he doesn’t deserve it, a thought process you are quite intimate with.

“... Okay…” He speaks, sounding as if he’s a child who’s just been grounded.

You can’t help but sigh and relax as he agrees, as pathetically as he does. You reach over and take his hand in yours, flipping it over and running your thumb against his palm.

“You don’t have to be so afraid of the infirmary. Or Tarja. Or me. Or rest,” You mutter, “It’ll do you good, I promise. You’ve earned it, yeah?”

He perks up a little at your praise, before nodding again.

“So you go on and start catching up on all of it that you’ve missed, and I’ll join you later tonight.”

He nods again, before grabbing your hand, and bringing it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. Your heart skips a beat for a moment, wondering how long it’s been since he’s had the chance to be sweet on you. He’s spent the last couple months stressing over Hugo Kupka’s whereabouts, that most of his time was devoted to finding the man. Now that he’s killed the man, he finally has all the time to…

You can’t allow yourself to think like that. He’s buttering you up, for sure. Because you know by the time you reach his quarters he’ll be complaining about having nothing to do, begging you to let up on him so he can continue his work. You can’t let yourself grow soft!

#⁺◟freyito #ffxvi x reader #final fantasy xvi x reader #ff16 x reader #final fantasy 16 x reader #clive rosfield x reader #clive ffxvi x reader #clive ff16 x reader

62 notes · View notes

bvidzsoo · 1 year ago

Text

Who am I? (Part 2)

Author: bvidzsoo

Warning: manhandling, smut, cursing, violence, toxicity

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x female reader

Word count: 14,7k

Summary: Jeong Yunho remained an enigma to you despite knowing him for over two months now. An extraordinary med student by day and a menacing gang member by night. There wasn't a label put to your relationship, and you liked it that way, but what happens when you finally face a disagreement, which makes you question the whole meaning of whatever is between Yunho and yourself. Is it really worth it for you? Or are the feelings too strong already to break it off?

A/N: Uh...yeah. I advise you check out Part 1 before reading this, thank u!! A second part was really unnecessary BUT I saw one picture of Yuyu and uh...my brain decided to work on its own and come up with a continuation, lol. But I think I'm finally ready to end their story as it is in here (unless I randomly get inspired again, save me). Tbh, this took an unexpected turn even for myself lol, I'm giving the side eye to Mr. Jeong Yunho currently. He's not that toxic, uh, but he's got it in him ngl, excuse this little silly guy for now. I hope you enjoy and your feedback is always appreciated! Enjoy now! ^^

⟨Part 1⟩

There wasn’t a label to our relationship. We just…were. The two of us, together, in some weird way. I don’t know how we worked out, or why we worked out, but two months later Yunho and I were still hanging out and…sleeping together. It was a peculiar feeling—not knowing what we exactly were—but it was also freeing. I knew I didn’t have to question us; Yunho just brought that sense of safety with himself. Even in my previous committed relationships I haven’t felt this safe—this assured that the person next to me was fully committed to me, and only me. Yunho was—the same. He was still weird in my eyes even if I have grown somewhat used to his behavior. To the Jeong Yunho everyone knew from university, and the Jeong Yunho who seemed to be truly him. I knew both sides of him by now and it made me think that he’s just simply a versatile person, as he had early in our relationship said, he had a colorful personality and he wasn’t afraid to use this to his own advantage. He knew how to portray himself to be liked by those around him, but he wasn’t scared to let his ‘darker’ side show through when the situation called for it. He was intriguing, and he certainly knew how to keep you focused on him—locked in. He was like a vice, one you could never let go of unless someone noticed that you were withering away and finally offered help, a shoulder to lean on. I wasn’t sure if that is where I stood currently, if I needed someone to help me out—to take me away from him. I didn’t even know if I wanted my life to—be like it was before the two of us knew each other like this.

Yunho was mysterious and he never disclosed anything about himself if it wasn’t necessary, I only knew the basics about him. He loved coffee, but would prefer a tea rather than the iced energizer. He struggled to go to sleep early and often his nights were ridden with nightmares, causing his sleep to be restless, thus he was often tired in the mornings. Surprisingly enough, he was a morning person, and enjoyed going on morning runs, no matter the weather. Yunho loved staying in on the weekends to watch cheesy movies, and perhaps if this came as a surprise, his talent in baking came as an even bigger surprise. He was resilient and hard-working, not once slacking or behind on his assignments, only urging me on to do my own as we often sat down to study together. And he had money—more than necessary, in my opinion—yet never flaunted it around. Not in a very obvious way, of course, unless he was taking us out on dates in high-end and super fancy restaurants on the rich side of the city, sending me over-priced silk dresses with a note attached to it, Wear it tonight. Yunho was distinctive in every sense of the word and he was certainly luring me in more and more as time passed. I couldn’t tell whether that was smart or not, there were plenty of things I still didn’t know about him. His secrets were well kept, yet sometimes I could see through the cracks. He was in a gang and he was doing illegal things, things which perhaps were dangerous and would certainly drive me away from him if I knew about them. But Yunho made sure I remained oblivious to them as much as I could and I never complained—unless it started directly affecting me.

The halls of our university were busy as everyone was in recess, walking down the hallways, everyone headed to their own business. I was done for now, I only had one more class later in the afternoon, but Yunho wouldn’t be free until late in the afternoon. The weather was extremely beautiful today, compared to the chilly and windy days we’ve had these past weeks, and so we took advantage of that as we hoarded outside the university’s cold stone walls, soaking up the sunlight as best as we could as we were sitting on a big blanket spread out in the grass. Mingi was with us, laying on his back as he had a book above his head, eye narrowed and nose scrunched as he had lowered the book uncomfortably close to his face.

“Hey,” He spoke up, nudging Yunho with his foot as Yunho was sitting by him, “hand me your sunglasses. You don’t need them.”

Yunho hummed once, busy eating his salad full of nutrients, before he took his sunglasses off his head and threw them at Mingi. I continued underlining the important information from my book for my upcoming assignment, sighing loudly when I realized I still had ten pages to flip through. The warm sun still didn’t have its full power, but I welcomed it dearly as my skin craved its warmth. I never dealt well with the cold, broody, winter days. My sigh caught Yunho’s attention, however, and his eyes found mine as I glanced his way.

“What’s the matter?” He asked quietly as he scooched closer, mouth full of his homemade salad.

“Nothing.” I mumbled and went back to underlining another sentence as my eyes quickly ran over the fancy words, trying to connect them to what I knew would be useful for my research.

“Want some help?” Yunho asked quietly, settling in a comfortable seat next to me, his broad shoulder knocking into mine as he bumped our shoulders together lightly. I shook my head wordlessly and continued diligently working as Yunho quietly finished his lunch and Mingi turned around, laying on his stomach as he raised his legs and started lightly swinging them in the air. It was a cute sight; it brought a smile to my lips as I glanced his way. Mingi had class in half an hour and he decided to hang out with us when he saw Yunho and I walking down the corridor. Mingi and I were in different groups, therefore our timetables differed at times.

“Is this for your latest assignment?” Yunho asked as he placed his empty container back into his backpack, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He wore a grey hoodie over a beige turtleneck today, tucked into his favorite light blue, washed out, ripped jeans. It was the first time he didn’t wear his usual colorful outfits to university, and it certainly had turned some heads in the morning when his leather jacket was on him as well.

“Yeah, got two weeks to finish it.” I mumbled defeated, catching the slight thumping of my head. The breeze lightly picked up and brushed my copper strands against my face, until Yunho’s long fingers curled into the strands and pushed them behind my ear. I glanced at him from my peripheral and noticed him looking at me deeply, his brown eyes warm and light in the sunlight, like an amber cracking in the lively fire. I couldn’t help but softly smile, my body softening as I leaned into his side, his presence calming. Mingi let out a long sigh and there was a quiet thump as he let his head fall on his book, placed on the blanket. I chuckled as I watched his theatrics, Yunho straightening his right leg and kicking at Mingi’s foot.

“What’s got your knickers in a twist today, princess?” Yunho teased his best friend, earning a groan from Mingi.

“Shut up,” He moaned out in frustration as he pushed himself up, checking his wristwatch, “I fucking hate the professor I have class with in fifteen minutes, I don’t want to go.”

“Don’t go then,” I pipped up, grinning at him, “I’ve got the notes. I’ll let you have them.”

“Aren’t you a sweetheart, Y/N?” Mingi grinned for a second, running his hands through his black hair, ruffling it up, “But he doesn’t like me and has a personal vendetta against me, so I gotta go. Two more weeks and I’ll never have to see his face again.”

I raised my eyebrows at Mingi, about to destroy his fantasy, “Until our next module with him, which is in like…three months.”

“Shut up.” Mingi groaned as he got up from the blanket and dusted his jeans off, grabbing his book and backpack, pocketing his phone as Yunho handed it over to him. He thanked him quietly and checked his wristwatch again, very clear on his face that he didn’t want to go, “See you around.”

“My sunglasses.” Yunho reached a hand out, patiently waiting for Mingi to hand them over, but the younger one just chuckled and stuck his tongue out at Yunho.

“You wish. These are mine now.” And with that, he took off, making Yunho huff next to me as I chuckled, amused by their antics. Besides myself, I think Mingi is the only person who knows how Yunho is—who he truly is.

“That rascal.” Yunho muttered underneath his breath and I smiled, going back to the remaining six pages I still had to read, “You sure you don’t need help?”

“Yeah,” I hummed, “You’ve helped me enough before.”

“And I’ll keep helping you, it’s not a big deal.” I raised my head and turned to look at Yunho as his eyebrows were slightly furrowed, his expression serious. He looked calm, his mind probably quiet for once. He was a man who’s thoughts ran miles per hour. My fingers itched to reach out and to be run through his hair, massaging the skin of his nape, but I refrained from doing so—the two of us were never too affectionate with each other out in public. It’s not because we were keeping whatever was going on between each other a secret, it’s just that neither one of us was a big fan of showing intimacy in front of others. Yunho was subtle with it, and I just simply refrained from such gestures, feeling uncomfortable by strangers seeing us and judging us for what we were doing. But there were little moments when we both gave in to these urges, and I watched as Yunho leaned forward and pressed his soft lips against my right cheek, lips lingering against my skin as he breathed out against it, nose pressing against my heated skin. It came naturally that I flushed whenever he kissed my cheek, it felt intimate, sweet even. Something which was a nice change when it came to Yunho, who was a passionate and reactive man, indulging to his urges and whatever he was feeling in the moment.

“I should head home soon, have lunch and sleep some before my class.” I spoke up as Yunho finally pulled back, eyes soft as his lower lip jutted out.

“Want me to drive you home?”

“No, the weather is nice, I’ll walk.” Our serene ambivalence was broken the second there was a shout of Yunho’s name and a rushed man running our way, his brown hair disheveled as his backpack slung messily around on his back. Wooyoung wore a bright red jacket and black jeans so long it made me wonder how he hadn’t faceplanted already as he neared us. He had a wide grin on his lips and I felt Yunho shifting, his body pressing more firmly into mine, almost pushing me away.

“Hi, guys!” Wooyoung greeted loudly, disturbing the few people around us who had the same recreational idea in mind as us. Wooyoung was panting as he leaned forward, placing his hands on his knees.

“Hello, Wooyoung.” I greeted him back politely. He was one of Yunho’s friends, an obnoxiously loud man, but with a pure heart and good intentions. He was blunt, but also very caring. He was a free spirit which his small body couldn’t fully contain, bursting with the light he had to offer to the world. Wooyoung was a literature student and he absolutely loved what he was studying, often quoting something from the books he’s read or was currently reading. He had his nose in a book at all times, it was endearing to see. However, despite Yunho never voicing it, I felt the distaste he had towards the boy. Perhaps it was the shameless flirting Wooyoung seemed to be doing with everyone around him that Yunho disliked so much, and he often whatnot made it quite visible when Wooyoung hung out with us—at least when I was around too. Or so Mingi had told me one afternoon as we had hung out between classes, grabbing a coffee. Despite Mingi and I being in the same major, our somewhat friendship only kicked off after I became a prominent person in Yunho’s life. Figures it would have happened at some point, it seemed to me that Mingi was the most precious person to Yunho after himself—he could be quite selfish at times.

“What are you up to?” Wooyoung asked animatedly and I chuckled, closing my book. I have decided I have had enough for today.

“I was just about to head home, don’t know about Yunho, though.” As I went to grab my bag, I felt a heavy arm draped around my shoulders, Yunho’s long, cold, fingers curling tightly against my shoulder, squeezing lightly. I paused for a second and looked back at him, one eyebrow raised, but he didn’t spare me a glance as he was looking straight at Wooyoung.

“I’m headed to the library. I’ve got two hours before my next class.” His voice was cold, yet he had an eerily friendly smile on his lips. Wooyoung paid him no mind as he grinned and nodded, grabbing his phone out of his pocket as he tapped away on the screen. I placed my book into my bag and glanced at Yunho when he still didn’t release me, “Care to join me?”

Wooyoung nodded eagerly as he put his phone away, pushing his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans, “Sure, I’m waiting for my cousin to come pick me up. But until then we could hang out. I’ve got a new book I have to start reading, the timing is perfect, if you ask me.”

“Sure.” Yunho chuckled, but it lacked any friendliness. Wooyoung still didn’t seem to notice it. I cleared my throat and threw Yunho a look as I peeled his arm off me, getting to my feet. My bottom had gone numb at some point and I shook my legs out, groaning at the stabbing feeling in my feet.

“You’ve gone numb?” Wooyoung asked with a chuckle as he watched me amused, and I nodded with a grin.

“Sure did, I think I’ve been sitting in the same spot for an hour now.” I said as I grabbed my bag, but was surprised to find Yunho holding onto it, and not letting go. I raised my eyebrows at him and noted how his jaw was clenching tightly, eyebrows slightly furrowed. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask whether he was alright or not, but him suddenly standing up took me off guard.

“Shake it out like this—” Wooyoung speaking up got my attention as I turned my head to look at him, feeling Yunho’s looming presence over my shoulder as he pressed up against me, firm chest flushed against my back. Wooyoung was goofily jumping around, shaking his ass rather than his legs, and it made me laugh at the imagery in front of me. My laughter prompted Wooyoung to laugh as well, making him stop his antics.

“Thank you, but I think I’ll refrain from shaking my ass around and disturbing the people around us,” I said amused, making Wooyoung pout, “I’m sure they didn’t sign up for it when they decided to enjoy the sunlight—which is slowly going away.”

I sighed sadly, the clouds gathering around as the breeze was picking up, urging me on to zip up my coat. I looked back at Yunho and signaled for him to hand me my bag over, however, the displeasure in his expression took me off guard. It’s been long since I have seen him this hostile. Perhaps since the last time we had gone out on a date and the waiter kept flirting with me the whole time as if Yunho wasn’t even there at the table, sitting with me.

“Hey, if it’s sunny tomorrow too,” Wooyoung suddenly proposed, eyes shining with excitement, “Want to go play some basketball? It’s been long since I played, but I’ve still got it in me—promise.”

I hummed in thought and yanked my bag out of Yunho’s hold when he wouldn’t let go still, giving him a small glare. What was up with him? He’d been fine just minutes ago. Why was he acting up all of a sudden?

“I mean, I’m not big on sports, but I could definitely use some exercise.” I turned to look at Yunho, “Yunho? What about you?”

“I’m not into basketball.” He fired quickly, throwing a glare Wooyoung’s way, but the younger one was either really good at ignoring the murderous look on Yunho’s face or he just simply didn’t notice. The later was probably better, but it was also only angering Yunho more.

“Sure, you don’t have to come. I’ve got other friends who like it, Y/N, I’m sure you’ll like them.” Wooyoung was babbling on, obviously not noticing the simmering anger in Yunho’s eyes. I cleared my throat and smiled tensely, a little off-thrown by the situation, by Yunho’s behavior, “I’ve been wanting to introduce you to them for a while now.”

Yunho scoffed loudly, and that finally caught Wooyoung’s attention as his eyebrows lightly furrowed, confusion written all over his face as I cleared my throat awkwardly.

“Sure, sounds cool.” But I forced a smile on my lips before clapping my hands together, and taking a small step away from Yunho’s side. I needed to get going now, “I’ll be on my way though, enjoy your time in the library, you guys.”

“Have a lovely afternoon, Y/N.” Wooyoung called cutely, a dimple showing as his lips were pulled into a big smile.

“You too, Wooyoung.” I smiled back at him before turning to face Yunho, wanting to say my goodbyes to him as well, except that I was greeted by a big hand wrapping around my jaw and pulling me forward as he painfully crashed his lips against mine. A surprised noise left the back of my throat, eyes wide as Yunho forced my lips apart with his, slipping his tongue inside my mouth. He’s never done anything like this in public before, and I found it hard to react as I was taken aback, heart suddenly racing in my chest. Before I could reciprocate the kiss, Yunho was already pulling away, my lower lip between his teeth as he bit down on it painfully, making my eyebrows furrow as I grabbed his wrist and pushed his hold off my face, giving him a glare but a confused look as well as my lips were pulsing, hot, and coated with Yunho’s saliva from the messy and aggressive kiss he had just given me. I didn’t want to vocalize my thoughts, which would’ve been a loud what the fuck, Yunho, so I just deepened my glare as he stared deeply into my eyes, anger still simmering in them. His irrational behavior had no sense and I shook my head when I realized he was turning this into a staring contest, of who would give in first—that being me, of course, as I wasn’t in the mood for childish games. Besides, I knew Yunho hated it when I dismissed him, and that’s what he deserved for the behavior he had just exhibited. When my eyes fell on Wooyoung again, he was looking away awkwardly, cheeks flushed as his lips were in a tight line. I felt sorry for him and also humiliated when I felt Yunho trying to close the gap between our bodies, but I cleared my throat and stepped around him.

“Okay, goodbye.” I said loudly as I gave Yunho a pointed glare, Wooyoung’s wave weak as I turned and stalked off, leaving the two males behind. And I knew Wooyoung wouldn’t hang out with Yunho today, the older one’s attitude too off-putting for Wooyoung, who was simply nice and friendly with me. And if Yunho texted me later today, he certainly wasn’t getting a reply. I did not like being treated like an object, like a doll. And I certainly did not like being presented as someone who had ownership over themselves by another person. It was the one thing Yunho never truly, fully, understood during our relationship as he was a possessive and overly protective man. I would not be branded as his, nor treated like a piece of doll.

It had been a few days since Yunho and I had spoken, due to a multitude of reasons. The most pressing one was the way he acted when Wooyoung had approached us, and perhaps the fact that he saw no faults in his attitude when he texted a half-assed apology later that evening. But another reason was life catching up with the both of us. I had to take up more shifts at the convenience store as I was starting to run short on money while the deadline to pay my fees at the university was dangerously nearing, and Yunho had not long ago started his residency at the local hospital. He didn’t have a fixed schedule yet, but he preferred taking the night shifts more often than not, sometimes letting me stay overnight at his apartment alone. I never understood how he does it, but whenever I woke up there was homemade breakfast laid out on the table nicely in his living room, with Yunho freshly showered and scrolling through his phone as he lazily dried his hair with a towel. I would often walk up to him and help him out, taking the towel out of his hand as I rubbed it against his damp hair, making Yunho sigh loudly when I would run my fingers through his hair, softly massaging his scalp. Usually in the mornings nothing much was said between the two of us, and I preferred it that way. I liked the calm and quiet, having the chance to sort out my plans for the day I had ahead of me. But it’s been almost two weeks since I slept over, and I couldn’t help but sigh as I realized I was thinking about Yunho again. We’ve never fought before, never even went a day without texting each other, even if just briefly. It was a little unnerving to realize how big part of my life Yunho had become, how his absence was unsettling and left me feeling agitated and unsafe. I should have known better that allowing him into my life would bring consequences, and even if we weren’t a defined item, I didn’t know where we stood now that we weren’t talking. It was probably my fault, I was the one ignoring him, but I felt like this was my last attempt at trying to get him to understand that he couldn’t just claim me and make me his propriety. I hated these things; they made me feel dirty and uncomfortable.

As I was wiping the counter clean, earbuds in and bobbing my head to the music as clients had been quite scarce today, I heard the bell chime loudly over my music, quickly making me switch it off and take the earbuds out. I watched as a tall man walked inside, all-bulked up underneath the black turtleneck and form fitting jeans he wore. We looked at each other and I welcomed him, his face concealed by a facemask and a low hanging baseball cap. The sight wasn’t unusual, it didn’t ring any alarm bells in my head as I went back to wiping off the dust from the counter, crouching and putting the rag away once I was done. I grabbed the can of soda I had put away for myself and cracked it open as I stood, startled when I found the man right across me, the counter separating the two of us. He was alarmingly tall, perhaps taller than Yunho himself, and I had to tip my head slightly back to look him in the eyes. The guy had sharp eyes, dark, yet warm. I was sure I haven’t seen him around here before and I took the cup of ramen he pushed towards me wordlessly, scanning the item quickly.

“Want anything else?” I asked the customer in a monotone voice, keeping my face neutral, “We’ve got a promotion if you buy a drink of your choice with the ramen.”

The man made a humming sound before he nodded and stalked off towards the fridges, my eyes following his every move. He looked intimidating like this, with his face concealed and clothing dark. And the fact that he wasn’t talking was unnerving as well, but I pushed such thoughts to the back of my head as he returned with a can of soda identical to mine.

“This good?” He finally asked, voice not too deep nor raspy, slightly cracking at the end. I had to admit, he had a pleasant voice and I slightly relaxed as I nodded, scanning the soda in as well.

“Yeah, it’s a mix of grape and something lemony, the sparkling water really elevates the taste of it.” I answered him and the man nodded, grabbing his wallet out of his long coat’s pocket as I took a bag and placed his items inside, closing his tab. I let him know the amount he had to pay and took the money when he pushed it towards me, ignoring the way his finger brushed against my skin. It made me shiver, but I hoped he didn’t notice. His touch was cold and it reminded me of Yunho’s cold hands holding my body firmly. I quickly grabbed the change and handed it back to the customer, making sure our skins didn’t touch again as I flashed him a generic smile, thanking him for purchasing at us.

“Do you often work here?” He asked as he took off towards the door, making my eyebrows furrow as I glanced at him uneasily.

“Sometimes.” I chose to stay ambiguous as the man nodded once before saying his goodbyes, prompting me to do the same as I watched him leave through the glass door and then windows of the convenience store. I shook off the uneasy feeling as the man got inside a vehicle, one which looked slightly familiar, but I couldn’t figure out why and from where. But the little voice inside my head told me that I had seen it before. Before I could dwell more on it, a peculiar sight blocked my view of the strange customer leaving with his car. Yunho had pushed open the door of the convenience store slowly, his warm eyes falling on me and holding my gaze. I wouldn’t have thought not seeing him for a few days would send my heart into a frenzy as I took in his appearance, wavy hair concealed by a black fuzzy beanie with white stars on it. His jacket was missing despite the chilly breeze outside, but I suppose the fuzzy grey and white sweater which reached his knees was enough to keep him warm enough. He wore leather pants, and the longer I looked at his outfit the more it looked like he had borrowed his clothes from Mingi. Lately, Yunho had been experimenting with his clothing, and I could’ve sworn I saw Mingi wearing the exact same sweater Yunho was wearing right now. However, what made my mouth go dry and heartrate increase faster was the huge bouquet of blue Hyacinths he was holding in his hands, expression leveled until he reached the counter, leaning his hips against it. I remained silent as I watched Yunho, hands slightly shaking as I pushed them behind my back, clasping my fingers together. In all the two months we’ve been seeing each other, Yunho had not once given me flowers. It was an unusual sight and it was slightly unnerving, new, but it felt good.

“Hello,” He greeted quietly, searching for my eyes as I avoided eye contact. I was still irritated that he didn’t want to understand me and listen to me, but I knew one look at his face would make me forgive him instantly, “Uh, you’ve been ignoring me.”

I hummed as my eyes fell on the blue Hyacinths, their scent strong and refreshing. I’ve always loved these flowers; they were the harbingers of spring. I remained silent and Yunho sighed, suddenly moving. I finally looked up as the bouquet of Hyacinths was placed on the counter and pushed towards me, “I’m sorry. I know you don’t like it when I act like that, but it’s who I am, Y/N.”

I rolled my eyes but accepted the flowers as I took them from Yunho, cradling them against my chest as I looked down at them, closing my eyes as I sniffed their strong perfume, sweet yet biting, “I’ve missed you.”

It was the lack of hesitation he said it with that made me look up at Yunho wide eyed, mouth going dry at his sudden confession. Yunho rarely voiced his emotions, often times only being vocal about them during sex, which wasn’t a huge problem to me, but it would’ve felt nice sometimes hearing him talk about them without being buried deep in me and high of endorphins.

“Yeah,” I muttered after clearing my throat, feeling shy all of a sudden, “Life’s been quiet without you.”

Quiet, yet so chaotic as my thoughts were plagued with Yunho. I didn’t feel like letting him know that, it felt like I was overstepping some invisible boundary we have set. Yunho, though, seemed to understand as he hummed and nodded once, reaching over the counter and taking my hand in his as he pried it away from the bouquet. His palm was searing hot and his metal rings cold as they pressed against my skin, and I sighed, squeezing his fingers between mine, biting my lower lip as I looked down at our joined hands.

“Let’s hang out tonight,” Yunho proposed, voice quiet, “The guys invited me out, but afterwards you could crash at my place.”

I hummed and nodded without much hesitation, agreeing to his plan. I didn’t have it in me to turn down his invitation, I have missed him too. I wanted to spend time with him, I wanted to be close to him again.

“Seonghwa said Sooyoung was coming too.” Hearing my friend’s name made me smile as I finally looked up into Yunho’s chocolate brown eyes, noting the happiness written all over his face. He was probably glad I wanted to hang out with him, finally not dismissing him anymore.

“Cool, I’ll talk to her and we’ll go together.” I spoke up, making Yunho pout as his grip against my hand tightened, “We’ll be spending the night together either way, I haven’t had the chance to hang out with Sooyoung this week yet. I miss her.”

“More than me?” Yunho raised his eyebrows and I chuckled, softly prying my hand out of his and crouching down to try and find something I could place the bouquet in.

“Bros before hoes.” I cracked a cheeky smile and it made Yunho laugh, a sound I rarely had the chance to hear. It was usually him the one making me laugh, it felt good being able to make him laugh. I grinned as I watched Yunho chuckle to himself before composing himself and stepping back as I found a little glass vase, perfect to hold my bouquet of blue Hyacinths until I went home, “Text me the details.”

“Sure, I’ll see you later, angel.” He winked and I ignored the way my cheeks instantly flushed, never quite used to Yunho’s flirty side as it rarely made its appearance. I stood up and waved as Yunho left the convenience store, eyes on me until he rounded the corner, making me grin as my eyes fell on the flowers and remained on them. Perhaps he could bring me flowers more often, I wouldn’t mind.

After finishing my shift, I met up with Sooyoung at her place, the two of us cooking some nice late lunch and gossiping about everything we haven’t told each other through text. It seemed like her and Seonghwa were going out now, but they weren’t quite in a relationship yet. She said this was working for her as she wanted to make sure Seonghwa truly was the man he portrayed himself to be, and she then asked about Yunho and I. She knew we haven’t talked in a while, so I told her about him showing up with flowers and confessing that he had missed me. It sent Sooyoung into a giggling mess, amusing me as I watched her ramble on about how Yunho should just ask me to be his girlfriend already, since everyone around us seems to be thinking that we are boyfriend and girlfriend. I reassured her that I didn’t need a label to feel comfortable with how things were between us, and Sooyoung confessed she was jealous of that, she could never be this easy-going. She needed the utmost security before entering a relationship. I could understand her.

After talking to Yunho, he sent us the location of the BBQ place we were meeting at, and told us to be there at eight sharp. I wasn’t in the mood to head home before leaving to said location, so Sooyoung let me wear one of the pretty dresses she owned. It was a black off-shoulder, long sleeved dress, and it reached just above my calves, the fabric warm and form fitting. I styled my hair in simple waves and applied a coral lip-gloss on my lips, matching the color of my hair as Sooyoung grinned at me while wearing her cute, but casual clothes as well. It wasn’t often that I wore dresses, but tonight I wanted to look nicer than usually, and, besides, this dress was one of the few clothing items Sooyoung owned that actually fit me as our height difference stopped us from sharing cute clothes with each other. She was half a head taller, the dress on her was a lot shorter than on my form, but it still looked nice. I had packed my clothes in my backpack and promised Sooyoung I would give the dress back once I have washed it. After finishing up and making sure everything we had used for our hair was unplugged, and the makeup put away, Sooyoung locked up and we left her apartment.

By the time we reached the BBQ place the streets were busy with people roaming around to find entertainment as it was a Friday evening, and the pub Yunho told us to meet them at was buzzing with life, filled to the brim with people. As we walked inside, I noted there weren’t any empty tables as Sooyoung craned her neck and looked around for the people we were here with. And she quickly found them. They were sat at a large round table, towards the middle of the room, and the table had already various flavored Soju bottles littered around, with the meat being grilled by Mingi as we came to a stop next to the table. It seemed like a few seats were empty, and Yunho wasn’t here yet as I looked at the familiar faces, searching for his. Seonghwa and Mingi looked at us at the same time, and Mingi was happy to see me as he said hi loudly, talking over the hubbub of the pub. Seonghwa was quickly on his feet, pressing a swift kiss against Sooyoung’s red lips, making her blush as she timidly greeted everyone sitting at the table. She sat next to Seonghwa, and as I didn’t know which seat was taken or not, I opted to play it safe and sat right next to her after Seonghwa assured me that the seat hadn’t been claimed yet. Jongho sat at the table, an empty chair between him and Mingi, right across from me. He seemed to be busy with his phone, greeting us hastily before he went back to it, fingers moving fast as he was typing. Mingi shot him a few glances, but didn’t say much to him. The seat to my right was empty, but not for long. Suddenly, I heard loud and shrill laughter coming from behind, and as I turned, I watched as Wooyoung was talking to someone taller than him, holding three bottles of undone Soju in his hands. The man he was talking to pat him on the shoulder before he beelined it to a different table, Wooyoung coming to a stop next to me. He looked ecstatic to see me, and I chuckled.

“Hi, Wooyoung.” I said with a laugh as he stumbled a bit, slamming the Soju bottles on the table accidentally, making Jongho glare at him.

“Careful.”

“Sorry.” Wooyoung pouted at the grumpy man before taking his seat between Jongho and myself, clapping his hands together, “Hi, Y/N! I haven’t seen you in quite a while.”

“Just four days or something.” I muttered with a chuckle and Wooyoung grinned, undoing the grapefruit flavored Soju.

“Yeah, and those are more than enough to make me miss you.” I rolled my eyes at the blatant flirting, but failed to notice the sharp gaze Mingi sent Wooyoung’s way as he had heard his words. Even Seonghwa paused for a second as his lips pulled into a straight line, but Sooyoung quickly had his attention once again, “Want some?”

I nodded eagerly as Wooyoung poured some Soju for me and I nudged Sooyoung with my elbow, raising an empty glass at her, “Want some?”

“Sure.” She grinned and Wooyoung poured some for her as well, “We have some catching up to do. These guys already finished four bottles.”

“We’re only half an hours late, please.” I said with a laugh before Wooyoung, Sooyoung, and I clanked our glasses together, downing the Soju. The taste of it was sour, yet not unbearable at all, and I took the Soju glass before pouring another shot for myself. Wooyoung grinned as encouraged me and poured himself another one as well, downing it at the same time with me. I groaned and thanked Jongho as he pushed his untouched Fanta towards me, letting me take a few sips before I handed it back to him. He seemed to be done with whatever he was doing on his phone as he had his hands clasped together and placed on the table, watching Mingi and giving him instructions on how to grill the meat better. Wooyoung chimed up next to me, but suddenly I felt big hands pressing against my bare shoulders, making me stiffen as my back straightened. I quickly looked back, but upon seeing Yunho’s towering form looming over me, I relaxed.

“Hi.” I said with a small smile, goosebumps erupting on my skin as Yunho’s calloused hands slowly dragged closer to my neck, his forefingers pressing into my nape. Yunho’s expression was neutral as his eyes slipped onto Wooyoung for a split second, and I didn’t miss the way his jaw clenched. It took me a few seconds to realize, and I sighed as I gave Yunho a look, begging him not to start this again. Wooyoung was just a friendly guy and whatever he said and did, it wasn’t anything serious. He was Yunho’s friend for fucks sake, it was Yunho who introduced us to each other. If he couldn’t stand the guy, why the hell did he continue hanging out with him—why did he even introduce me to him? I wanted a nice night out, not a tense filled evening where I couldn’t even look in Wooyoung’s direction without Yunho blowing up from anger.

“Hi.” Yunho muttered and he leaned down, his face close to mine. I looked in his eyes questioningly, waiting for him to make the first move. His nose twitched and I knew he hated all the eyes on us, but nonetheless, he still pressed a lasting kiss against my lips, keeping his eyes open as I didn’t close mine either. I gave him a warning glare as he pulled away and stepped back, his hands leaving my body as he tapped Wooyoung on the back a little too harshly before he took off towards his seat, which was in between Mingi and Jongho. I chuckled and shook my head for a second, amused but irritated at the same time. Sooyoung gave me a questioning look as I poured her and myself some Soju, Seonghwa and Mingi having a heated debate about whether the meat was better overcooked or undercooked. Jongho seemed to be disgusted as he voiced his opinion that it was only perfect if it was in the middle. I felt a small nudge against my wrist on the table and I looked towards Wooyoung, who was looking at me shyly, scratching the back of his neck.

“Do you think I make Yunho uncomfortable?” He whispered as he slightly leaned closer. My eyes fell on said person quickly, watching the way Yunho’s eyes darkened. I looked back at Wooyoung and forced on a small smile, feeling bad that I had to lie to him.

“That’s just how he is, don’t mind him.” I tried to answer as ambiguously as I could, but Wooyoung just pouted.

“So, he doesn’t like me.” He concluded and I frowned, feeling bad.

“He’s your friend, Wooyoung.” I tried, but Wooyoung just shrugged, “Of course, he likes you.”

“I mean,” He hummed and grabbed some peanuts from the bowl placed close to him, “not necessarily. We know each other through Jongho.”

“Yeah, and I question myself each day what was I thinking when I befriended you.” It seemed like Jongho was eavesdropping in on our conversation, but Wooyoung didn’t seem to mind as he made an offended sound, lurching towards Jongho. Jongho yelped as Wooyoung’s arms went around his neck and aggressively tried to press a kiss against Jongho’s cheek, making the younger one fight for his life. I started laughing at the small commotion, quickly stabilizing the stool Wooyoung sat on as it tipped towards Jongho, making him fall off.

“Enough, hey.” Seonghwa called out and grabbed his chopsticks, waving them threateningly in Jongho and Wooyoung’s direction, making the two settle down instantly. Jongho’s eyes could’ve killed as he glared at Wooyoung, but the boy seemed unthreatened as he sat back in his seat satisfied, grinning widely. I chuckled as Sooyoung and I looked at each other, her shaking her head. Mingi cleared his throat and motioned at the table.

“Meat is done, let’s start eating.” And so everyone dug in, Yunho’s eyes barely leaving me and making me almost choke on my food when I noticed. I raised my eyebrows at him, a silent question, but he didn’t react, face staying neutral. I just shrugged and continued eating, the food delicious and the meat well cooked, complimenting Mingi for his work, watching as a gloating smirk appeared on his lips. It made me chuckle as Jongho started arguing with him, telling him that the meat would’ve been worse if he didn’t help out, making Mingi hush him with an inoffensive threat. It didn’t take long for Wooyoung to nudge my wrist again, and I found it cute as I looked at him amused.

“So, uh…” He cleared his throat before proceeding with what he had to say, “I started this new book. It’s dark romance ad thriller. Want to hear about it? Maybe you’ll like it, I can lend it to you.”

“Sure.” I smiled and nodded my head, seeing from the corner of my eyes as Yunho took a big swing of his beer, eyes staring daggers at Wooyoung and me, but I ignored him. I wasn’t in the mood to focus on his jealous theatrics, and instead paid full attention to what Wooyoung had to say.

And Wooyoung had a lot of things to say from then on, barely letting me pay attention to anyone else as he talked about anything that came to his mind, themes going from absurd to quite serious. It was nice to see the layers he had, and he was an entertaining person. I’ve always found talking to him quite easy, smooth, and flowing by itself. I tried not to pay much attention to Yunho, who looked more and more displeased as the hours went by, at some point turning his body in a way that he wouldn’t see Wooyoung and I anymore. It was childish, really, I was simply just socializing. I wasn’t giving any signals to Wooyoung, and he was also keeping everything cordial besides the little nudges he did against my wrist with his pinky. There was absolutely nothing to be worried about. Mingi and Jongho had gone out a few minutes ago to smoke their cigars, and for once, Wooyoung seemed enthralled by whatever him and Seonghwa were discussing at the moment, I hadn’t paid attention to them. The more time passed, the more drinks appeared on the table and it was quite visible that Seonghwa, Wooyoung, and Mingi were quite tipsy, Sooyoung’s eyes droopy, yet she refused to head home just yet. I hadn’t drank much, therefore it wasn’t hitting me and…Yunho had a high tolerance for alcohol; however, I lost count of how many beers he’s had. Probably more than necessary. As I looked up, I was startled to find Yunho standing all of a sudden, eyes deadly as they were set on me. I gulped, for a second feeling like I was in trouble, until I reminded myself that Yunho was just overreacting. I watched his tall frame, which was hugged by ripped greyish-black jeans and a simple black t-shirt hanging loosely around his torso, a silver chain dangling around his neck. Some while ago he started wearing a single silver earring in his left ear, and he had it on tonight as well. A few rings littered around his fingers and I felt my body tense as he walked around the table, coming near me. He stopped behind Wooyoung and grabbed my forearm.

“Come with me.” I couldn’t really say no as I was pulled up from my seat, legs a little numb as I hadn’t stood up in a while now. My eyes searched Yunho’s as he dragged me up to my feet and veered me in front of himself, making me walk as he followed close behind, his left hand gripping my waist tightly. My heart picked up a bit as I saw the confused looks on Wooyoung and Sooyoung’s faces, however, Seonghwa looked like this was normal. I didn’t know what to think as I licked my lips and realized Yunho was walking us towards the restrooms. I knew where this was leading, and it was certainly to an argument. And argument that I did not want to have in a pub’s restroom, but I guess I didn’t have much of a choice as Yunho held me firmly, not allowing me to slip away even if I tried to. There were three doors, one for the ladies restroom, one for the men, and a third one which said, employes only. As Yunho pushed me towards it, my eyebrows furrowed and I looked back at him unimpressed and confused.

“What are you doing?” But he was already pushing the door open and shoving me inside. If it weren’t for his hold on my body, I would’ve stumbled. I heard the door slam shut behind me and a click, making me open my mouth to chastise Yunho for whatever this was, but the wind was knocked out of my lungs as I was whirled around and aggressively pushed up against the door.

“I’ve fucking had enough, Y/N.” His jaw was clenched and his nose flared as Yunho glared me down, keeping me pinned against the door as my eyes widened, “I fucking told you I don’t like it when you’re with Wooyoung, and you go ahead and ignore me the whole fucking night while you’re all sweet with him. Fuck this, Y/N. Seriously.”

My eyebrows furrowed and I scoffed, trying to wriggle myself out of his hold, “You never told me you didn’t like him, nor that you didn’t like me talking to him, Yunho. Talking to him. Do you expect me to just fucking ignore every living soul which is a male because I’m with you?!”

The silence which followed was deafening, the tumult of the pub muffled by the door I was pressed against, and Yunho’s face said everything. He wanted me to ignore the existence of every male that wasn’t him. I scoffed and glared at him, yanking his hands off my body. He had loosened his grip on me, making it easy for me to do so.

“I told you that’s not who I am, Yunho, numerous times.” I snapped, pressing a finger against his firm chest, “I told you that you couldn’t expect me to bend to all of your wishes and let go of my own principles for you. I don’t give a single fuck who you are, Yunho, but if you don’t respect me, I won’t respect you either. You can be Jesus, you can be a mobster, the most dangerous man on Earth, and I still won’t allow you to treat me like I’m your personal toy, your little object you can claim whenever your dick stands up, Yunho.”

And Yunho said nothing as his breathing got heavier, because he knew I was right. Because he knew very well where I stood, because he knew and even said he understood, when I refused to get the tattoo he also had on his chest. I didn’t want to be branded, I didn’t want to belong to anyone or anything. I was my own person and if this is where things were headed, I wouldn’t stick around for longer. No matter how much Yunho started meaning to me. And maybe it was the fire in my eyes and the indignation on my face that prompted Yunho to understand that things would soon come to an end between the two of us if he continued on acting like this, but I’ve had enough and as I went to turn around and open the door, Yunho was suddenly on me, holding my face firmly in his hands as he pressed his lips roughly against mine. It took me a little while to respond and it made Yunho whine as his mouth never once stopped moving against mine, coaxing me into a fiery kiss as my hands fisted Yunho’s shirt at his sides, apparently giving him the cue to press himself up against me. I sighed into his mouth as his tongue pushed past my lips and licked into my mouth with urgency, his kisses desperate as his tall body molded perfectly against mine. He knew every tick of mine, every spot which brought pleasure, and every move which he knew made it hard for me to control myself. As he slanted a leg between my things, my fingers tangled into his black locks and I yanked on his hair harshly, making Yunho gasp. He broke off the kiss, but his lips were quickly on my jaw, leaving open mouthed kisses against it as he pressed his thigh more against my clothed core, making me grind down against it needily, little noises leaving my lips as Yunho sucked at a particular spot under my jaw, skin sensitive and igniting a fire within which spread through my whole body.

“I need you.” Yunho mumbled into my skin as he held my chin with his right hand while his lips travelled lower, sucking harshly on the skin of my neck, making me hiss out in pain. As if to prove his words, he pressed his lower half harsher against my body, and I could feel his bulge through his jeans, making me bite back a moan as my hips grinded against his thigh, making me bite my lower lip at the friction against my lower region. Everything was becoming hotter around me, my skin felt on fire and my mind began emptying out as Yunho’s musky cologne consumed my whole being, as his hands groped at any part of my body he could feel, his warmth mingling with mine, and his sinful lips pressing open mouthed kisses against my skin, and tongue licking at it afterwards. His left hand found my hips and guided them, setting a slow rhythm as I grinded against his thigh, a quiet moan leaving my lips at the pooling heat between my legs. The fabric was harsh against me, but it brought the little relief I needed, yet still not enough.

“You look so sexy, when I saw you I wanted to devour you on the spot.” Yunho whispered in my ear as he flexed his thigh, drawing out another quiet moan from me as I gripped his shoulders, arms going around him and pulling him more into myself.

“You’re so fucking hot.” I gasped out against his cheek as I pressed my nose against his skin, kissing his heated cheek, and grinding just a little bit harder against his thigh, yet it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t satiating enough anymore, and my body was on fire, and my walls were clenching around nothing, “Fuck, Yuyu, why did you start this?”

Yunho groaned and suddenly I felt his hands slipping down my legs, gripping the fabric of the dress harshly as he started hiking it up, “Careful, the dress isn’t mine.”

“I don’t give a shit about the dress, Y/N,” He bit back, voice strained as he bunched up the skirt around my hips and yanked at my panties, his hands frantically going to unbuckle his belt and undo his zipper and button of his jeans. I gulped as I looked down at Yunho’s length, hand reaching out and wrapping around his cock, squeezing it as I stroked him slowly, making Yunho throw his head back as he let out airy breaths, sounding close to choked back moans.

“Fuck, I’m going to fuck you hard, angel.” He suddenly opened his eyes and connected out gazes, gripping my wrist and pulling my hand off his length and he pushed his jeans and boxer further down his thighs. He gripped the back of my thighs and made me jump as he lifted me off my feet, my legs wrapping around his hips for stability as I held on to him with my arms as well, our bodies flush against each other. Yunho looked me in the eyes and I licked my lips before teasingly licking Yunho’s, his eyes darkening instantly. I chuckled, but my amusement was short lived as he aligned himself at my entrance and pressed in with one fluid moment, stretching me out and making my eyebrows furrow as I let out a loud gasp, pressing my forehead against Yunho’s as the stretch slightly burned. It had been more than a week since we’d slept with each other, and his size was something my body just never fully got used to. I gulped, but my throat was still dry as Yunho moved, pulling out and then pushing back in as he pinned me up against the door. His pace was slow and dragged out, taunting me and teasing me as he smirked, lips parted as he was lightly panting. My body was burning and my walls were pulsing around his length, as the friction wasn’t good enough anymore, making me whine as my nails dug through Yunho’s shirt and into his skin.

“Yunho, please.” I whispered against his lips as I moved my own hips, trying to get something more out of this, but Yunho just chuckled.

“You think you deserve it after everything you’ve done with Wooyoung tonight?” He nuzzled his nose against mine, and tears gathered in my eyes out of frustration as my hips desperately tried to quicken the pace.

“Fuck, Yunho,” I gritted my teeth at him, one hand untangling from around his shoulders and going to grip his neck, “We were just talking, for fuck’s sake—”

He suddenly pulled out almost all the way and slammed back in, cutting my words off and breath stilling in my throat as I gasped loudly, moan dying out in my throat, “Just talking, you say. Keep on talking right now, then. I bet you have something smart to say.”

And then he pulled out all the way and slammed back in, ramming my body back against the door each time, my toes curling as my legs tightened around his hips, pulling out wanton moans each time he did it, “Oh, Yunho—fuck—please pick up the pace—”

And he smashed his lips against mine as he started moving quickly, hips slamming back against mine as he quickened his pace, my walls clenching down tightly against Yunho’s dick as he moaned into my mouth loudly, hiking my body up higher with each one of his movements, my fingers tangled in his hair as I gripped on for dear life, trying to bite down my moans. Yunho’s pace was ruthless as he plunged into me faster and faster, his big hands gripping my thighs so harshly it surely would leave fingerprints on my skin. I moved down on his length, trying to match his rhythm as the pleasure was building up in my lower stomach, desperately needing more of Yunho as he groaned and buried his head in my neck, nipping on my skin as I pressed a hand against my mouth to try and muffle my moans, head thrown back as my back arched, Yunho finally hitting my sweet spot, and it made me clench around him as his length twitched, his teeth sinking down into my neck.

“You’re mine, angel—” Yunho gasped as I clenched around him again, my hips moving messily as I was chasing my own release, brain beyond fogged up and desperate to finish, “Mine. Tell me you’re mine.”

I whimpered as Yunho’s long finger found my clit and started toying with it, never quite rubbing it the way he was supposed to, frustrating me to no end as tears gathered in my eyes again, yanking on his hair hard.

“Say it, Y/N, you’re mine.” His voice was deep and dark, and I gasped as he started pulling me down aggressively on his dick, rubbing my clit harshly, my body shaking as my climax was finally building up, Yunho’s quiet groans getting louder as his voice was becoming higher pitch, close to his own release as well.

“I’m yours, fuck, Yunho, I’m yours.” I gasped out and quickly kissed him hard, our teeth clashing against each other as Yunho shoved his tongue down my mouth, muffling my keens as my walls squeezed around his length, finally the bundle in my lower abdomen exploding as my body shook, Yunho the only thing on my mind as I squeezed my eyes tightly shut. Yunho’s pace never once slowed down as he guided me through my orgasm, soon coming too as I whined against his lips, bodies flushed together as Yunho’s hips pushed against mine harshly, movements halting as he jerked his hips a few more times, his seed warm inside as we panted into each other’s mouths.

“Open your eyes.” Yunho’s voice was raspy and I licked my dry lips as I pried my eyes open, taken aback by the intense look in his eyes. They were completely dark, not an ounce of warmth in them, the chocolate brown now almost black as he suddenly held my chin tightly, tilting my head back as he glared down at me, “Get it into your fucking head that you’re mine, and no other man is allowed to touch you. You think I didn’t see how many times Wooyoung reached for your wrist? Let it happen one more time, Y/N, and I will fucking kill him. You’re mine.”

And as if to prove a point, he bucked his hips against mine, my walls involuntarily clenching down on his dick, my heart beating erratically. In all these two months of being with him, of spending hours and hours with Yunho, I had never seen him like this. The pure animalistic look in his eyes, the anger on his face, and the threat dripping from his tone…it scared me. It reminded me of who he really was, and it made me question if I wanted this. But could I flee if it came down to it? Would he let me? Or would he threaten to kill me like he just threatened to kill Wooyoung. Would—would Yunho really kill Wooyoung?

“Just let me down.” I managed to whisper, voice shaky as I averted my gaze, lightly pushing at his shoulders.

“Do you understand?” But Yunho didn’t budge, instead jerked my chin to make me look him in the eyes again. I clenched my jaw and gulped down everything I wanted to say.

“I do.” I snapped, eyes glaring back at Yunho as he finally slipped out and placed me on my feet, legs wobbly for a few seconds as I quickly pulled up my panties and pushed the dress down, gulping as I ran my fingers through my hair. Yunho quickly fixed himself, but the look remained on his face. The man standing in front of me wasn’t the man I thought I knew all this time, it was unnerving, “What if I want to end it? Right now. Everything. What if I want you out of my life, forever?”

A sinister smirk appeared on Yunho’s face as he placed his hands out, caging me against the door and himself again, dipping his head down. I gulped, but stood my ground, not backing down. I held his challenging gaze, fought against his attempt at trying to intimidate me, “Then I will brand you. And no other man will touch you ever again, angel. You think you want that?”

“Fuck you, Yunho.” I hissed and slammed my hands against his chest as I pushed him back, away from myself. My mind was a mess as I tried to sort out my thoughts, to calm my nerves and the anger blooming through my whole body, “Are you fucking obsessed with me? Or what’s your fucking deal?!”

I didn’t mean to raise my voice, but I had started shaking, and the way Yunho was treating this whole ordeal wasn’t helping. He looked like we were talking about the groceries we bought, his neutral mask slipping on again, his eyes lighter, but the glint still dangerous in them.

“Wouldn’t you want to know that?” His voice was light, but the chuckle made me shiver as I shook my head, “Let me tell you this. There are no coincidences.”

And without letting me to say anything back, he unlocked the door and pulled me to the side, opening it. He smiled sweetly all of a sudden and draped an arm around my shoulders as he pulled me into his side, pressing a swift kiss against the side of my head. I hissed, but didn’t pull away, eyes searching the hallway as we stepped outside, hoping that nobody heard us.

“And now we go back and you better not hide that beautiful neck of yours, angel, maybe Wooyoung will understand finally.” Yunho chuckled like he said the funniest thing on Earth and grinned at me as I looked up at him, dumbly realizing that he’d been biting and sucking at my neck to leave marks for everyone to see. I felt mortified at the thought of everyone from the table seeing, but what I wasn’t ready for was the way Wooyoung was sitting between Mingi and Jongho now, not once meeting my eyes when we returned with Yunho, as I took my previous seat with Yunho on my right. And he went back to talking and acting like nothing happened as Mingi, him, and Jongho continued drinking, Wooyoung sometimes joining in, but not as lively as before. Mingi informed me that Seonghwa and Sooyoung had left while we were busy, Sooyoung having fallen asleep on Seonghwa’s shoulder. It felt like the night I had hoped to enjoy to the fullest was coming to a disastrous end, and I couldn’t help but cringe when I felt Yunho’s big hand wrapping around my thigh and squeezing it, leaving his hand there until we had to leave. Without many words exchanged between Yunho and I on the way back to his apartment, I knew I would be held hostage at his place for a few days, not once letting me out of his sight.

And even with three weeks passing since that incident in the pub, things were still tense between Yunho and I. I was wary of him, rightfully so. I stopped hanging out with him for a longer period of time or too often, letting life carry on as I realized despite always working on my assignments with Yunho, I was hella behind on them. Yunho might have helped me study more, but I was behind on important sketches I had to hand in in one week maximum, and my mind was a mess at the moment as I scrambled around in the library, very possibly late to my shift at the convenience store. Mingi was kind enough to come to the library and help me out, draw a few sketches himself so that I wouldn’t have much leftover for the weekend as I had a shift each day at the store. Despite Yunho and I not talking as often as before, Mingi remained close to me and never once pressured me into talking about what was going on. He never even once mentioned Yunho, usually me being the one to bring him up, even if briefly. Mingi seemed dismissive of the subject and had said that he genuinely grew to like me and considered himself my friend, therefore he was staying neutral as Yunho kept yapping off his ears about me. I felt grateful to Mingi, happy that he wasn’t pushing anything between Yunho and I like Sooyoung was. I couldn’t tell her the full extent of our fight, and thus, she didn’t really get it why I was making such a big deal out of it. And of course, because of this, she almost daily told me how stupid I was, and how much I was fucking up everything when Yunho was literally perfect, and perfect for me as well…but if only she knew the real side of Yunho, the one he never showed at university, she wouldn’t think so highly of him.

In the sparse time that we did meet up, it usually resulted in us simply fucking and Yunho trying to make me understand as to why he kept pressing the hand at matter, and why he was so possessive. I just couldn’t find it in me to hear him out anymore, and that often times lead to us fighting again, only to have furious make-up sex. Things weren’t going well; I couldn’t find the essence of whatever was going on between the two of us anymore. I hated the fact that I got attached to him, and I hated the fact that I continuously gave in to him when I knew this wasn’t good for me anymore. And Yunho just always knew what to say to pull me back in, but what was the worst, was that I could see the sincerity on his face and the pain in his voice whenever he told me that he missed me, and that he wanted things to go back to how they were just weeks ago. And to be honest, I wanted the same thing. I wanted to forget about this whole fucked up issue at hand and just live obliviously and happily with Yunho, but I couldn’t, not when Wooyoung couldn’t even meet my eyes and barely even talked to me anymore when we crossed paths at university. I have no idea what has happened, but it wasn’t hard to guess that Mingi and Jongho must’ve talked to him while Yunho and I were in the restroom at the pub. And quite alarmingly, Wooyoung had a busted lip the following day, raising my suspicions that Yunho took this way too far. But no matter how many times I pressed him about it, he just stayed quiet, he avoided looking at me, and even acted like he couldn’t hear me. It was frustrating, so after a while, I let it go. My mind was a mess and I didn’t know how to figure things out anymore. I needed space and time away from Yunho, but he swore that if I dared disappearing or going no-contact on him, he would turn the world upside down until he found me. The look in his eyes when he said that was more than scary, and I left with my body shaking that night and calling Sooyoung to ask whether I could sleep over at her place or not.

There were times when Yunho scared me, but most of all, the scariest was the way my trust in him had started fading away, not letting me rest for one second. If I couldn’t trust him anymore, what was I doing? Why was I pressuring myself? Maybe because I did believe that Yunho would do anything to get back to me, and the fact that Sooyoung was now dating one of his close friend’s and Mingi also became a good friend of mine felt like a web, like he was a spider and I was cornered from every part, tangled up in his well-calculated web. But there was also a part of me which wished to solve all of this, to just talk it out and put it past us, because my feelings were growing for Yunho the longer we were separated. I didn’t exactly understand why, but whenever we did meet, I felt like I was whole again. Like I was at peace with myself, like I was complete. I have never ever felt like this with anyone before, and it was scary. I didn’t want him to have such power over me, but I have long stopped being able to control such feelings. I just knew that despite him scaring me sometimes, he was just as attached to me as I was to him, and he had proven numerous times that he’d bring even the stars down for me if that’s what I asked for.

I had the evening shift at the convenience store today, and by the time I could finally close it up, the streetlamps had been long turned on, the moon high up in the sky as it was clear of clouds, a few starts visible here and there. The late evening air was nothing but fresh, not chilling for once, the breeze quite invigorating as I had started getting sleepy a while ago. I’ve had a long day at university, and Yunho had been also begging me to sleep over at his apartment as we hadn’t seen each other in three days. I didn’t feel quite ready to spend the night there yet, and therefore I kindly refused him and told him I still had to study, and I didn’t want to bother him as I knew he had to go to the hospital early in the morning for his residency. There was a strange feeling of déjà vu as I turned down the side of the building, nearing the narrow passageway between the two buildings to cut short my journey towards home, the last bus having left, I had no choice but to walk. For some reason I felt uneasy as I gripped my backpack’s straps tightly in my hands and fastened my walk, my heart picking up. I couldn’t see danger, but if my body was reacting like this, I knew it had a reason, and I had to get away from here as fast as possible. But not even ten steps away from the end of the passageway, I was harshly yanked back by my backpack, gasping loudly as I was pushed into the side of the building. For a second I wished it was Yunho as my heart almost exploded by how fast it was beating, and the flashbacks I had to the night when Yunho had to save me from those three creeps freaked me out even more. What if it were them? Coming back to taunt me now that Yunho wasn’t here? But as I tried to run, I was slammed back into the brick wall and held by the collar of my jacket, immobilized against the wall as a tall form loomed over me. I felt joy for a second, hoping it was Yunho, but the man was taller and his scent was unfamiliar. He was dressed fully in black and had his face covered by a black facemask, a black beanie concealing his hair as well. As I stared into his eyes dumbfounded, I came to realize with horror, that this was the same man who had once purchased something from the convenience store, inquiring whether I worked there often.

“What—what do you want?” I managed to stammer out, making the man’s sharp eyes narrow.

“Where’s Jeong Yunho?” How did he know Yunho? Why was he looking for him? As the man’s grip tightened around my collar, I quickly shook my head, body shaking from fear of what would happen to me now. Could this possibly be someone Yunho had problems with? I did hear him once talking on the phone, threatening to kill someone if they didn’t stop trailing him. And then I remembered that Chan guy, and it just made me shake even worse. I could see the satisfaction in the man’s eyes as my eyebrows furrowed.

“I don’t know.” I lied, but it also wasn’t a lie. I really didn’t know where he was right now, maybe he was at home. The man just tsked and shook me harshly, making me whimper as he leaned closer. I tried to keep my eyes clear of tears, but even my head was shaking from fear. He was too tall and too strong for me to even try to overpower him.

“Don’t lie to me, bitch!” The man snapped and I jumped as he was suddenly shouting while being all up in my face, “I know you’re Yunho’s whore, that motherfucker! Tell me where he is!”

“I swear I don’t know!” I screamed, eyes filled with tears finally, gripping the mans gloved wrists as he slammed me into the brick wall again, making me whimper, “Please, I really don’t know. Please—”

“Shut up, whore.” The man hissed, eyes narrowing as if he remembered something, “Do you have a tattoo?”

My eyebrows furrowed as a few tears ran down my cheeks and I gulped, about to shake my head no, but I suddenly remembered that Chan guy asking me the same thing. And then my mind was a mess as I racked through memories, trying to remember what Yunho had once said about being branded by a gang.

“Speak up, bitch!” The man screamed again and I quickly nodded, gulping as I tried to look as convincing as I could.

“Yes, yes, I have!” I tried to breathe through my nose, but it was hard as my throat was closing in on me, “An A—I—I have it. Ateez, isn’t it? You know them?”

“Fuck.” The man hissed, and I could see the hatred and venom in his eyes as he yanked me into himself. Yunho had once said that if you were branded by one of the gang members as their partner, nobody else from a rival gang could touch you, unless they wanted to start a war against that gang and every other one the respective gang was in good connections with, “You stupid whore, were you branded by Jeong Yunho?”

“Yes.” I nodded, head shaking as I started sweating, praying to God this man wouldn’t ask me to show him my tattoo. If I had to—I could only fear what would happen to me as I had lied through my teeth.

“Fuck!” The man exclaimed again and suddenly let go of me, but not before raising his fisted hand and making me scream as it came towards my face. I squeezed my eyes shut and braced myself for the upcoming pain, but it never came. I was on the verge of sobbing as I opened my eyes, and I was met with the view of the man cackling and looking satisfied as my legs gave out and I slid down onto the dirty ground lifelessly, watching as he looked at his hand proudly.

“Tell Jeong Yunho, sweetheart, that what I did today was a cordial warning.” He crouched down and raised my head by my chin, almost cooing at me as I was now crying, “And that next time he’d find you dead in a ditch if he doesn’t hand over all the money he’d made on selling our stuff, sweetheart, alright?”

I sniffed as I nodded, averting my eyes as the man suddenly leaned closer, masked face pressing against my ear as his voice dropped a few octaves, “I know you weren’t branded, sweetheart, Yunho is quite bad at keeping his mouth shut about you. Isn’t that dumb? Figures he’d be smarter, sweetheart, especially considering how secretive he is about everything else. Lovely chit chat we had, enjoy the rest of your evening now!”

My whole body shook with sobs as the man walked away with a skip in his steps, laughing at my agony as I pulled my knees up into my chest, burying my head into my legs as I sobbed harder, realizing that I could’ve died right here at the hands of this man. I couldn’t think straight as I shakily took my phone out of my pocket and blindly dialed the number I knew by heart now, trying to calm my sobs, but it wasn’t working. It only rung two times before he picked up.

“Angel—”

“Yuyu—” I gasped out, sobbing harder at the hear of his voice, “Please, please, come get me, Yuyu—”

“Y/N?!” I have never heard this much emotion in Yunho’s voice before as he sounded panicked, “Where are you? What happened?!”

“The passageway on the way home.” I managed to say in one breath before hanging up and continuing to cry curled up on myself and praying that Yunho would make it here as fast as he could. It wasn’t very far from his apartment, but he’d make fifteen minutes on feet, and I felt like fifteen more minutes spent alone would kill me. I couldn’t even think about that as another wave of sobs hit my body, lungs aching as I was heaving for air.

My loud wails died down at some point as I sat numbly on the cold and dirty ground, staring off into space as I clung to my knees, hugging myself to give as much self-comfort as I could. My body didn’t stop shivering and I suddenly heard the slam of a door and feet hitting the pavement quickly, making my body tense as I realized someone was approaching me again, and quite quickly. I flinched when I felt big, warm, hands around my biceps and I shook my head, slightly fighting against the person trying to hold me, until I heard their voice, “Y/N, it’s me. Yunho, Yuyu. What happened, oh my god, are you alright?”

And I looked ahead, eyes falling on the familiar soft face of Yunho’s, chocolate brown eyes filled to the brim with worry, and lips downturned as he looked like he was fighting his own tears. It made my own eyes fill up with tears again as I suddenly sprung forward, clinging to Yunho as he fell back without complaining, and allowed me to crawl into his lap as I held tightly onto him, burying my head in his pink hoodie, his cologne familiar and bringing the comfort I much needed. I started crying again, a lot quieter this time, as my body shook and Yunho lightly swayed us, holding me tightly against himself as he patted the back of my head with one hand. His other palm was pressed flatly against my back, making me wonder when had my backpack slipped off.

“I’m here now, it’s okay.” Yunho whispered into my ear as he pressed a chaste kiss against my temple, “You’re safe with me, angel, you’re safe. It’s alright, don’t be scared anymore.”

I sniffed as my tears somehow stopped falling, eyes dry and burning as I buried my nose into Yunho’s neck, tightening my arms around his neck as his body molded against mine, allowing me to disappear into him. Yunho kept pressing kisses against my temple, muttering reassuring words as he not once stopped petting my head. It felt like my mind and body finally calmed down, the aggressive shaking turned into a tremor and I tried to speak, but my throat was hoarse. I licked my lips and sniffed loudly, clearing my throat as I clutched at Yunho’s nape, closing my eyes as I pressed them against the warm skin of his smooth neck.

“Yunho, they—” My throat closed in one me and I had to pause as my lips trembled again, “He said he’d kill me next time.”

My voice was barely above a whisper and my body tensed as it felt Yunho tensing against me, his grip suddenly tightening against me. For once it didn’t feel restrictive, it felt safe, “He said, if—if you don’t hand over the money you made selling their stuff, I’ll—they’ll kill me.”

Yunho’s loud cursing took me off guard and the second he felt me tensing, he quickly quieted down and pressed again kisses against my neck, switching to mutter reassuring things once again, “They won’t ever again touch you, Y/N, I swear on what’s dearest to me. I won’t let them. Never. Ever.”

“Yunho, I—” I sniffed and pried myself slowly back so that I could look in his eyes, “I lied to them about the tattoo.”

I pressed a hand against his chest, where his own branded A tattoo was, and Yunho bit his lower lip, “But they knew I didn’t have it, Yunho.”

His eyebrows furrowed even more as his face was full of confusion, hand coming to cup my cheek as his other hand slipped to my waist, “How did they know…”

“They said you talk a lot about me.” My voice was quiet as Yunho and I looked into each other’s eyes, making him gulp as he looked shameful.

“Fuck, this is all my fault.” He let out a breath and my heart clenched seeing him like this, “Fuck, I’m so fucking stupid. There’s a mole in our gang.”

I just looked at Yunho as his soft features switched into one of pure fury, warm eyes on fire as he looked down to the side. My chest felt heavy as I was finally able to release a long sigh, chewing on my lower lip. If I was involved with Yunho, would I ever be safe? Was there really a guaranteed way to protect myself if he wasn’t around? Was there a way to prevent another situation like this one from happening?

“If I—if I get the tattoo,” My voice was quiet as Yunho slowly looked back at me, a newfound glint appearing in his eyes, “will they never again touch me? Will I be safe?”

“You’re safest with me.” The answer was instant, but then he nodded, “But yes, the tattoo is the closest thing you can get to keeping yourself as safe as if you were with me, angel.”

I gulped, feeling crestfallen at what I was about to ask, “Do you think I could get it tonight?”

I had no idea what the time was, but it certainly would be nearing midnight soon. Yunho’s face was rendered with surprise, until very slowly, a smirk appeared on his lips, cupping my cheeks as he pulled our faces inches away from each other, “Yeah, I know a place.”

I let out a shaky breath and closed my eyes as I nodded, “Okay, let’s go there.”

“Fuck,” A rasped breath left Yunho’s lips, “I love you. Y/N, I’m fucking in love with you.”

And before my eyes could fly open in shock, Yunho’s lips were pressing against mine softly, but urgently, making my whole-body light up with fire. I kissed him back with a newfound passion as my eyebrows furrowed and my lips moved against his firmly, trying to convey everything I felt into the kiss. I never thought I’d hear those words leave Yunho’s lips, certainly not directed at me, and it shook my whole being. The kiss didn’t last for long, but when Yunho pulled back, he pressed three more kisses against my lips, peppering my face with even more, making me melt into him.

“God, I’m so in love with you it’s painful, Y/N.” He whispered against my skin and my heart clenched at his confession, making me bite my lower lip as I opened my eyes. Yunho was already watching me and it surprised me seeing adoration written all over his face, in his eyes, on his lips as he pressed a small kiss against my nose, “Let’s go, Wooyoung will probably be elated to talk to you again.”

“Wooyoung?” How was he suddenly important?

“Yeah, he does all the branding on our gang members—” I didn’t like the amused look on Yunho’s face as he slowly peeled me off himself as I came to stand shakily, “Did you think I was the only member of Ateez?”

“No, I—” I shrugged, head thumping by now, “I don’t know, I never thought about it.”

“Yeah, angel,” Yunho chuckled as he took my hand and lead me towards his black Maserati, “how do you think I met Jongho and Seonghwa?”

I gulped, something coiling in my gut. What had I gotten myself into? “And Mingi?”

“We’re best friends since primary school, but yeah, he’s also part of Ateez.” And suddenly the picture-perfect image I had of Mingi in my head came crashing down too, just like the unease as I thought about Wooyoung and his bubbly personality, wondering just how many more people around me were involved with gang activity.

Yunho opened the door for me and helped me inside as my body still had slight tremors, the shock not having worn off entirely, and suddenly he raised my hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss against my knuckles, “I love you.”

And I would say it back at my own pace, and when I truly felt that I loved him. There were too many things he was still hiding from me. Issues we still had to solve. Love, was something I was scared to admit to feeling just yet towards Jeong Yunho. He was everlasting and encompassing, ravishing your whole being, keeping you locked in. And if he really loved me, I knew he would wait for me, I knew he would want me to be sure of it when saying it back. I didn’t know what the future had in store, but if Yunho swore to keep me safe, I blindly put my trust in him once again, praying to stay oblivious to the dark world he was meddling in. Perhaps a few more flower bouquets, and I might just say it back.

But deep down, I already knew I was in love with the man sitting next to me in the car, with Jeong Yunho.

⟨Masterlist⟩

377 notes · View notes