#he’s abandoned by his friend and he decides to take fate into his own hands

[solar-wing]

⚣ Badass 👊

⚣👊 A/N → @natef458 Last request from my previous account. Now, I can focus on one inbox (at least for now)! Shorter than what I've normally done, but I wanted to keep it simple. Hope you enjoy it! Tamaranean male image generated by AI. WARNINGS: Canon-Typical Violence | Tamaranean Male Reader | Dick Is Nightwing |

⚣👊 Summary → It's Y/N's first mission as a part of the team since he came to Earth. The Team and their leader Nightwing soon found out just how capable Tamaraneans are in a fight.

⚣👊 Words → 3.3K

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

Under the harsh glow of the moonlight, the Young Justice team converged around the abandoned warehouse where Vandal Savage and his cronies were holed up. Nightwing was co-leading the mission with Aqualad, coming far in his leadership and skill since they had founded the team along with their friend and teammate Kid Flash, and new friends Superboy, Miss Martian, Artemis, and eventually Zatanna.

Many of the original members had grown much from their early days as a part of the team, moving away from their past titles as sidekicks and coming into their own identities as heroes.

One of them was the former sidekick to the Dark Knight, previously known as Robin, who’d realized he wanted to separate himself from Batman and forge his own path and identity. Thus, within a few years after the team’s founding, he left his position and title as Robin and took on the persona of Nightwing.

He’d come a long way from the kid he was before, becoming more of the leader his mentor, and friend Aqualad saw in him. So much so, that the Atlantean had decided to start letting him help co-lead missions, seeing that was their original deal during that first fateful mission on Santa Prisca. And it couldn’t have come at a better time.

Batman had alerted the Team about a new mission concerning Vandal Savage who had just stolen a prototype weapon from a top-secret government facility. This weapon, codenamed "Project Eclipse," was not only a formidable tool of destruction but was clearly another attempt at trying to make humans evolve as a race due to his crazy beliefs in Social Darwinism and survival of the fittest.

By now, the Team knew this could only be the minor puzzle piece to something bigger. But, a weapon of that capability was way too dangerous to be left in his hands. Thus, they were tasked with intercepting Savage and recovering the stolen weapon before he could carry out whatever twisted experiments he had planned.

Only now, their team had grown much larger, bringing in various new members. Some were sidekicks to other heroes a part of the League while others were just regular people who had developed powers and abilities, whether intentionally or not, and were recruited into the team so they could learn how to control them and use them for good.

They’d lost a few along the way, some choosing to leave the team on their own while others had met a different and more grave fate, one of them being the new Robin, Jason Todd, who’d taken Dick’s place after he’d given up the position of Batman’s sidekick. Of course, the team mourned the loss of their fallen teammates, but it didn’t take away from their strength, especially with the other new members who had joined.

One of them being Y/N, an alien refugee who’d made quite the entrance to Earth just two years prior. He’d escaped from the captivity of the Gordanians, an intergalactic race of slavers who’d attacked his home planet, Tamaran, and abducted him as a slave in the process.

But, the slavers were ignorant of the fact that Tamaraneans gained strength from sunlight. So, when traveling closer to Earth within view of the distant sun of the solar system and after encountering the inherent unpredictability of space travel, Y/N seized his opportunity for escape, breaking free from his confines and escaping the vessel.

They’d pursued after him, hot on his trail as he made his way onto Earth, landing in the unsuspecting municipality of Happy Harbor. Unknowingly, but thankful in the end, his arrival had caught the attention of the Young Justice team, whose base was located in the nearby mountain and had come to his rescue.

It’d definitely been an interesting first meeting, considering none of the Team could understand him since he was speaking an alien language they’d never heard of. That’s when Y/N took it upon himself to lock lips with the Boy Wonder, who had yet to give up his identity and position as Batman’s sidekick.

Apparently, Tamaraneans possessed the ability to learn language through skin contact. It didn’t have to be done explicitly through kissing, but they were also a very direct and forward race when it came to their feelings. Being a race ruled more by emotion than reason.

Simply put, Y/N found Dick attractive and planted one on him so he could learn English, much to the then Boy Wonder’s surprise, but also enjoyment. He didn’t know much about Tamaraneans, but, judging by YN’s appearance, it definitely had to be a planet full of attractive people. But, he only had his eyes on one at that moment.

Now, two years later, Y/N had become an integral member of the Young Justice team, his journey from alien refugee to valued ally a testament to his strength and resilience. Despite the initial language barrier and clear cultural differences that in the early stages separated him from his teammates, Y/N had quickly adapted to life on Earth, his determination to learn and grow matched only by his unwavering commitment to the team.

Y/N brought a unique blend of strengths and abilities to the Team, complementing and enhancing the skills of his fellow teammates in various ways. His Tamaranean heritage bestowed upon him powers and abilities that were on par, if not equal, with those of Superboy, making him a formidable force to be reckoned with on the battlefield.

Like Superboy, Y/N possessed superhuman strength, allowing him to perform incredible feats of physical prowess and to go toe-to-toe with even the most powerful adversaries. His invulnerability made him virtually indestructible, able to withstand the most devastating attacks without so much as a scratch.

But what truly set Y/N apart was his extreme proficiency in hand-to-hand and weapon combat. Trained from a young age in the art of combat on his home planet of Tamaran, Y/N was a master of various fighting styles and techniques, able to hold his own against opponents of any size or skill level.

In addition to his formidable combat skills, Y/N possessed the ability to generate energy bolts and blasts from his hands and eyes, a power known as star bolts on Tamaran. These powerful energy blasts were capable of incapacitating even the most resilient foes, adding a deadly edge to Y/N's already impressive arsenal of abilities.

Together, Y/N's strength, combat prowess, and energy manipulation abilities made him a major asset to the Young Justice team, capable of turning the tide of battle in their favor with a single well-placed strike. Whether facing off against street-level criminals or cosmic threats, Y/N stood ready to defend his teammates and protect the innocent, his unwavering determination and indomitable spirit serving as a beacon of hope in the darkest of times.

As the Team faced off against Vandal Savage and his henchmen in the abandoned warehouse, the air crackled with tension and anticipation. Nightwing and Aqualad led the charge, their years of experience and leadership guiding the team through the chaotic fray.

Superboy, Miss Martian, and Zatanna with a few of their other teammates had split off to retrieve the stolen weapon, leaving Nightwing, Artemis, Kid Flash, and Y/N to hold off Savage and his goons. The battle was fierce and relentless, with Savage's forces proving to be formidable adversaries.

As Nightwing faced off against Vandal Savage in the dimly lit warehouse, the villain was proving himself to be a most formidable foe. Savage's millennia of combat experience and immortality made him a threatening force, his strength and resilience far surpassing that of any ordinary adversary.

The two circled each other warily, each seeking to gain the upper hand in the deadly dance of combat. Nightwing moved with the grace and precision of a trained acrobat, his nimble movements a stark contrast to Savage's brute force and relentless determination.

With a calculated look, Savage launched himself at Nightwing, his fists crashing down with bone-crushing force. Nightwing barely managed to dodge the blow, rolling to the side and countering with a swift kick to Savage's midsection.

But, he shrugged off the attack as if it were nothing. With a savage grin, he came at Nightwing again delivering multiple strikes that drove the young hero further back towards the edge of defeat.

Even with his own experience and endurance in battle, Nightwing found himself struggling to keep up with the relentless assault. His movements grew sluggish and tired as his body began to succumb to the pain of the attacks, his mind racing as he searched for a way to turn the tide of battle in his favor.

As he staggered back from Vandal Savage's brutal onslaught, his muscles burning with exhaustion and his mind reeling from the relentless barrage of attacks, he knew that he was on the brink of defeat. With Savage bearing down on him, his fists raised for the final, devastating blow, Nightwing braced himself for the inevitable impact, steeling himself for the pain that was sure to follow.

But just as Savage's fist came crashing towards him, a streak of emerald energy shot through the air, intercepting the attack with pinpoint precision. Nightwing's eyes widened in astonishment as he watched Y/N swoop in, his Tamaranean abilities allowing him to move with speed and agility unmatched by any ordinary mortal.

With a powerful surge of energy, Y/N deflected Savage's blow, sending the immortal villain stumbling backward with a grunt of rage and frustration. Nightwing could hardly believe what he was seeing as Y/N stood before him, his expression determined and his eyes blazing with determination.

But the battle was far from over, and Savage wasted no time in launching another furious assault. As he lunged towards Y/N, his hands outstretched for the kill, Y/N met him head-on, his own strength and resilience proving to be more than a match for the immortal foe.

With a swift movement, Savage managed to grab Y/N mid-attack, his grip like iron as he sought to crush the life out of the young hero. As he tightened his grip around the Tamaranean’s midsection, he was despondent to see Y/N unfazed by his move, his expression calm and determined as he looked Savage straight in the eye.

"I am sorry to disappoint you, but I am stronger than I look," Y/N declared, his words resonating with undeniable strength and conviction no matter how soft they were spoken.

As he spoke, a flicker of determination ignited in Y/N's eyes, the vibrant emerald glow intensifying until his eyes shone with a brilliant radiance. The Tamaranean brought his foot back before unleashing a devastating kick to Savage's chest, the force of the blow sending the mastermind staggering back. His expression contorted with pain and surprise despite his strength and healing as he struggled to maintain his footing against the onslaught.

As Savage stumbled backwards, Y/N seized the opportunity to press his advantage, launching a relentless barrage of attacks that left the immortal villain struggling to keep up. Meanwhile, Superboy, Miss Martian, and Zatanna had succeeded in securing and disabling the prototype weapon, turning the tide of battle in their favor.

As the battle raged on and the rest of the team rallied to their side, they watched in awe as the Tamaranean held his own against Savage and his goons, his strength and resilience shining through with every strike.

He was relentless, pressing his advantage with unwavering determination as he launched into a relentless barrage of attacks. Each strike fueled by an inner fire and a fierce determination to protect his teammates and emerge victorious against the forces of evil.

Also, no one was allowed to lay hands on his leader like that without repercussions. Vandal truly did not know who he was fucking with.

As Nightwing watched Y/N in the heat of battle, a wave of admiration washed over him, mingled with a sense of awe that bordered on reverence. His eyes traced the contours of his form, noting the fluid grace with which he moved and the unwavering determination etched upon his features.

In the flickering light of the warehouse, the Tamaranean seemed to glow with an inner fire, his emerald eyes ablaze with determination as he faced off against the immortal menace of Vandal Savage. Nightwing couldn't help but be captivated by the sight, drawn to the raw strength and resilience that seemed to emanate from Y/N's very being.

But it wasn't just his physical prowess that impressed Nightwing. It was the strength of his spirit, the unwavering resolve that burned brightly within him even in the face of overwhelming odds. There was something undeniably magnetic about Y/N, something that stirred a longing within Nightwing's heart that he couldn't quite put into words.

With a determined nod, he rose to his feet, his own resolve renewed as he prepared to join the fray once more.

Together, Nightwing and Y/N fought with a synchronicity that bordered on instinct, their movements fluid and coordinated as they launched a devastating assault on Savage and his forces. As they drove their adversaries back, the rest of the team rallied to their side, their collective strength and determination proving to be more than a match for the forces of evil.

As the battle raged on, Nightwing couldn't help but feel a stirring of something deeper than mere admiration. There was a connection between him and Y/N, a bond that transcended words and defied explanation. It was as if they were two halves of a whole, each complementing the other in ways that went beyond the battlefield.

In that moment, as they fought side by side against their foes, the acrobat couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to truly be with the Tamaranean, to share in the triumphs and trials of life as partners, as equals, as something more.

But for now, he pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the task at hand. There would be time to explore the depths of his feelings later. For now, he fought alongside Y/N with a renewed sense of purpose, his heart filled with admiration and longing for the alien hero who had captured his attention in more ways than one.

Y/N used his incredible strength and ability of flight to help launch Nightwing into the air, while Nightwing used his light and agile nature to deliver a series of lightning-fast blows against the villain. Together, they worked to bring the villain to his knees, their combined efforts finally proving to be too much for the immortal.

As Savage finally admitted defeat with a promise and retreated into the shadows, the Young Justice team stood victorious, proud and relieved smiles etched onto their faces from their hard-earned victory. They all surrounded their co-leader and teammate, making sure he was okay while praising Y/N for his prowess in his battle with Savage.

"Dude! That was like total badass moves out there!" Kid Flash exclaimed, his eyes wide with awe.

"Yeah, I know you've been on the team for a while now, but I haven't seen a more well-deserved ass whooping like that in a while," Artemis agreed, her lips curling into a smirk.

"It truly was a sight to behold. Well done, Y/N," Aqualad added, his voice tinged with pride.

"I'm so glad you're both safe," Miss Martian added, relief evident in her voice.

"Yeah, that was a close call," Superboy chimed in, his expression serious.

Nightwing couldn't help but chuckle at their enthusiastic praise, his gaze drifting to Y/N. The Tamaranean smiled, his eyes sparkling with appreciation and gratitude at the praise.

"Thank you. Though, I think my friend here is deserving of just as much credit," he replied, gesturing to the former Boy Wonder.

"Oh, no, you definitely did most of the heavy lifting," Nightwing insisted, shaking his head. "If it weren't for you, I would've been a goner."

"I do not know about that. You were holding your own quite well before I arrived. But, we make a good team, do we not?" Y/N mused, his smile widening.

"Yeah, we do," Nightwing agreed, his cheeks flushing slightly at the compliment.

"And now we know, the next time we need to save our butts, just throw Nightwing into mortal danger and Y/N goes into god mode," Kid Flash teased, breaking the mood.

"Dude!" Nightwing hissed, punching his best friend on the arm.

"Yeah, payback, Robby-Poo," Kid Flash, still using his old nickname for his friend despite his name change.

"Well, we should probably head back to headquarters. We need to get this weapon back to the cave," Aqualad interjected, ever the voice of reason.

"Sounds good to me," Superboy agreed, already heading for the exit.

As the Team made their way out of the warehouse, a warm feeling settled over Nightwing's chest, his gaze lingering on the Tamaranean. There was no doubt in his mind that they would continue to make a great team, both on and off the battlefield.

"Hold on a sec, Y/N. We'll be right behind you, guys!" Nightwing called out to his teammates.

The rest of the team shared a knowing glance, a few snickers, and suggestive grins exchanged between them. But they didn't say anything, opting instead to give their friends some privacy.

Except KF who was giving the vigilante a thumbs-up and a wink.

Nightwing rolled his eyes and shook his head, but the blush didn't fade.

Once they were alone, Y/N turned his attention to the former Boy Wonder, his expression curious.

"Is everything okay, Dick? Are you still hurt?" He asked, voice lilting with curiosity.

The acrobat tried not to blush at Y/N's use of his name, the way it rolled off his tongue like liquid gold. Even though they were technically still in the field and should be addressing each other by their alias names, he didn't mind it. Not one bit.

"No, no, I'm fine. Really. Just wanted to say thank you," Nightwing assured, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

"For what? Defeating Vandal Savage?" Y/N questioned, confusion written across his features.

"Well, yeah, that, too. But, I meant, thank you for saving me," Nightwing explained, his tone growing soft.

"Oh," Heat growing under the Tamaranean's golden cheeks.

"I'm not gonna lie, I was worried for a second. But, then you came swooping in and turned the tables. I knew I was safe," the acrobat confessed, his gaze locking with the Tamaranean's.

"You are most welcome. It was an honor to fight alongside you. I would not have let any harm come to you, Dick," Y/N replied, his expression earnest, though he wanted to say more.

Ever since he came to Earth, he'd grown into the Earthling culture, which meant he was a lot less direct with his feelings, which proved to be much more frustrating than he thought. Especially when it came to expressing the lingering feelings he had for his leader.

"Yeah, I know. Thanks," the acrobat said, offering a small smile.

"Of course," the Tamaranean responded, returning the gesture.

"We should probably get going. The others are waiting for us," Nightwing pointed out, though he didn't want the moment to end.

"Yes, they are," Y/N agreed, a hint of reluctance in his voice.

"Maybe after we're finished filing our reports and debriefing, we can hang out? Catch up on things, or whatever," the acrobat suggested, his heart racing in his chest.

"I would like that," the Tamaranean replied, his cheeks flushing pink.

"Cool," Nightwing nodded, trying his best not to grin like an idiot.

"Yes. Cool, indeed," Y/N echoed, his eyes sparkling with gleefulness.

"You two coming or what? Let's go," Kid Flash yelled from the warehouse entrance.

"Yeah, yeah, we're coming!" Nightwing called back, rolling his eyes.

With a final shared smile, the two heroes made their way toward their teammates, the promise of a new beginning and a blossoming relationship hanging in the air.

☀️ | Dick Grayson/Nightwing | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

#solar-wing ☀️ #☀️🪽.fanfic #☀️🪽.dcposts #☀️🪽.request #☀️🪽.txt #gay #dc #dcu #dcau #dc universe #dc comics #dc imagine #dc fanfic #young justice #young justice imagine #dc x reader #dc x male reader #x reader #x male reader #dick grayson #dick grayson fanfiction #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x male reader #nightwing #nightwing fanfiction #nightwing x reader #nightwing x male reader

[femmedefandom]

so I actually really enjoy the OG SQQ, he is such an angsty and dramatic bitch absolutely stuffed with trauma and terrible coping behind that ice cold veneer and it’s a shame we didn’t get more of him. there’s just so much to explore with him and he gets cut out and missed by his sect exactly 0% which is pretty heartbreaking.

#svsss #shen qingqiu #shen jiu #og!sqq #a guy that had the outline of a protagonist but the realism of life #orphan child taken living on the streets that has seen too much darkness to be naive but he cares for the other children in his own way #tries to survive the streets and being sold to an abusive family #his friend is saved and brought to a better life leaving him behind #he’s stuck playing the gentle toy for an oblivious girl as her brother torments him regularly #he’s abandoned by his friend and he decides to take fate into his own hands #learning cultivation from a rogue and breaking free of his chains the only way he’s learned how #with brutal and efficient violence…all by himself #he murders his abusers and the rogue who pushed him further into darkness and crime #he makes his way to a righteous cultivation sect to see his brother who he thought was lost to him in death… #…doing apparently just fine as the future sect leader of the top sect with nothing but a bright shiny future and no worries #his past and betrayals have turned him bitter and cutting and closed off but more driven than anyone else #he suffers from qi deviation and likely issues being around other men and substandard education to become head disciple and later peak lord #but no matter how high he goes all he sees is that little beaten and abandoned boy who was good enough for no one with no future #all those fancy worries and honors mean nothing to someone who did anything to survive #all the vague apologies in the world do nothing to ease the suffering he’s experienced #all the rumors and snide remarks are worth him trying to explain himself constantly - to justify his existence #and all the self loathing that has built up could have done nothing but explode upon meeting the blessed protagonist #don’t mind me #just in my feels about sqq again #mxtx why did you make this man only to throw him away??

[moth-mimic]

Suffocating

‣ pairing: Legolas x Maid/Healer!reader

‣ words: 1639

‣ content: basically childhood friends, unbalanced power dynamic, Legolas is a littleee jealous and petty (as in like… a lot), Legolas being too clingy and a little questionable, suggestive near the end, pleading men <3

──────────────────

‣ summary: Legolas had chosen you to be by his side from first glance. Even before he could wield a bow, he saw through your status and deemed your soul the same as his. However, his affection for you can be a bit… suffocating.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Legolas had claimed you before he even knew your name. Call it fate if you will, but something indescribable had seized him the moment you were presented to his father. Like a ripe fruit you had been plucked from your cozy orphanage and displayed in front of the king. At the time you were not sure why you were in this place, a grand castle decorated with exquisite, flourishing fauna and marble cleaned so well it glinted in the sunlight, yet the prince very well knew. A nobody you were— simply an Elven child of mixed blood who had been found abandoned in Mirkwood’s forests— yet your excellence had soon shown itself in your healing. With a few whispered prayers and hands delicately placed, a wound could vanish within minutes. This is why you were here.

Mirkwood was exceptionally skilled in archery, but what was gained in one area was lost in another. The kingdom had healers, like many, yet none that could heal a wound with their own hands. So it was a surprise that you, an unassuming child, had been blessed with the gift of life. It did not take a council to decide that your gift must be fostered and taken care of like the most delicate sprout.

Although your skill was doted on, you, however, were not. You were an elf of mixed blood— the classic story of a rebellious Elven man who had seduced a human woman before vanishing for The Undying Lands was not unique. The story between an elf and human royalty was one that was respectable, yet this was not yours.

Although your royal guidance was intended to help you grow in your healing abilities, it became increasingly obvious your current job was not to heal the innocent. Instead, you were frequently assigned the task of assisting the prince after his rebellious endeavors. From healing his scraped knee after he hurled himself off a tree to even pouring his tea, you were practically his maid at this point.

However, Legolas did not see it as this— you did a lot for him, yes, but he found himself frequently getting into trouble and calling upon your help purposefully, simply longing for your care and attention. He did not have many other young elves to involve himself with, and you were perfectly fine as company. He even admired you, in fact, especially as he watched you use your healing gift on him. You both were taught basic skills such as how to wield a bow and how to analyze Elvish texts, yet you were oftentimes dragged away for additional training in your healing. Times like these he wondered if he was too dependent on you.

And now the prince, far past his coming-of-age ceremony, still wondered the same as he scanned the halls for your presence. His boots could be heard clicking against the pristine floor from even a man on the other side of the castle as he paced the area. Elves from Rivendell had arrived to discuss matters on the group of dwarves headed to reclaim their home from Smaug, and you were nowhere to be seen. Embarrassed to make his affection for you so obvious, he excused his worry as simply making sure you were not late to greet the guests.

“Y/N! Y/N, where in Middle-Earth have you wandered off to now?” He shouted, perhaps to himself. The maids rushing down the hallway did not give him a mere glance. His worry for you was not only typical, but also a frequent point of gossip. He let out a loud sigh and turned, frustrated, finally giving up in his search. He would definitely receive a scolding from his father at this point. Perhaps it would be worth it if only to share the burden of being late between the two of you. He hurriedly retraced his trail to the entrance of the castle, hoping the guests would still be there, yet he abruptly stopped as laughter floated through the halls.

He peered around the wall and outside into the garden, which held the source of the sound, and scowled at the sight he saw. You and one of the Rivendell elves— pale-skinned with hair various shades of hickory, undoubtedly one of Elrond’s sons— sitting on a bench and chatting— No, flirting. It was obvious with the way he was leaning into you, your face lit with joy at the jokes he charismatically threw. The sight was enough to make Legolas seethe with jealousy.

“Y/N.”

The unexpected sound of your name prompts you to jump a bit before looking towards the blond elf. You smile at the familiar face. “Legolas! Where have you been? The guests are already seated.”

“Well, that I would not know. I have been looking for you since I noticed your absence,” Legolas makes his way towards the two of you, eyeing the dark-haired elf as if he were goblin trash. “I see you have acquainted yourself with one of our dear guests.”

You rub the back of your neck apologetically, oblivious to the stare-down happening between the two. “Ah, I apologize. I was at the entrance long before they arrived, although I should have noticed you beforehand to ease your worries.”

Legolas is the first to break the glare, quickly changing his expression to one more gentle, more suitable to one as pure of heart as you. He crouches down to provide you comfort. “Of course. My worry for you is natural, yet it’s nothing to burden yourself with. May I?” The Elven prince takes your hand and holds it firm before you can even respond, almost as if the other may rip you away.

“Yes, but—“ You begin to protest as you look back towards the Rivendell elf, but he is the one to speak next.

“No worries, it is time we all join each other in the dining hall.” He huffs, clearly defeated. It is the prince of the kingdom he is visiting, after all.

And with that, Legolas guides you with him to the dining hall. The other merely trails behind in surrender.

With the rest of the night, Legolas is strangely distant. As you make your rounds offering tea to each elf, Legolas holds his hand over his teacup without so much as a simple “No, thank you.” Instead of contributing to the council like a respectable prince, he stays oddly silent and tightens his jaw in what seems to be annoyance. After a considerable time of him being obviously troubled about something, you follow his incomprehensible glare across the lengthy table to the elf you were speaking to earlier. You observe from the sidelines, expecting his glare to waver, yet it lingers. The other elf just seems to uncomfortably avoid eye contact. Even Thranduil notices enough to make an occasional irritated side glance at his son.

You simply excuse it as a harmless quarrel between princes.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

As the moon exudes her care across the darkened kingdom, Legolas can not seem to quiet his mind as he lays down to rest. His eyebrows tense and his chest tightens at the image of the Rivendell elf practically courting you, and you enjoying it. The thought of you being carried away back to Rivendell by this elf seemed none other than a nightmare. And perhaps it was still possible— the Rivendell group had settled for staying in the guest chambers tonight— perhaps he was making his way to your chamber at this moment. He would knock on your door, gently, as to not startle you, the way Legolas had done so many times before— you would answer, dressed in silk, hair ruffled by your pillowy sheets. In a heartbeat he would confess his attraction from the moment he saw you. You would fall into his arms and he would hold you, softly, as if the dream could break. You both would join lips in a passion, and soon enough you would be his.

And soon enough Legolas is making his way to your door— not too far of a journey, considering your chambers are right next to each other. He pauses for a moment, and two, before he gathers the courage to lightly knock on the wooden door. He awaits your presence, a burning inside his core threatening to swallow him whole. As he waits, his mind trails to his previous nightmare. Perhaps he is too late, he thinks, perhaps this is a mistake—

And soon enough you are there, in front of him, dressed in silk and your hair ruffled from your pillowy sheets. He stands there for a moment, silent and flustered.

“Well?” You sigh sleepily, rubbing your eyes at your interrupted slumber, “Are you alright?”

He sighs. With eagerness or longing you cannot tell. “Tell me you do not want him.” He bluntly states, his mouth moving faster than his brain. He grips both sides of your doorway, leaning towards you, keeping himself from joining you into an embrace. You can see his knuckles nearly turn white.

Your eyes are wide now, confused. “Who— sorry?”

“The Rivendell elf. You do not want him. He is an adventurer, he knows no home. He is not right for you, I assure you, he knows nothing about you. You are just a pretty face to him, but I— I…” He pauses, gasps for air as if he has almost drowned, and completely stops at a loss for words.

You stare at him a moment, his eyes wild and pleading. From the soft gazes he’s given you when teaching you how to correctly hold a bow to the seething glare you saw from him last night, this is unlike anything you’ve seen.

“Legolas…” you begin, but words cannot fathom what you want to say. Instead you lift your hand to tuck a strand of hair behind his pointed ear, gazing at him with newfound vulnerability. The back of your hand trails down his neck before resting on his chest. “He is not the one I want.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

ok dang it’s like 1 am now. anyway sorry for cutting it off so abruptly I was starting to cringe a little and I just couldn’t do it. also thinking about adding 2 more parts to this but idk if I’ll have the motivation 🤕

#Spotify #legolas x reader #legolas #lord of the rings #lotr #the hobbit

[cryinginmyroomsposts]

Svt as specific tropes cuz I am in a writer's block

a/n: these are purely personal opinions/ imagines. not proofread!

Scoups: enemies to lovers (I'm talking dagger to the throat enemies to "who hurt you" pipeline. scoups and his competitive petty ass would be perfect with an equally competitive and hot-headed oc. I'm talking sizzling chemistry, extreme frustration to tooth-rotting fluff)

Jeonghan: Frenemies to angst to friends to lovers (light-hearted frenemies until one day Jeonghan takes the joke a little too far which leads to angst and years of no-contact. A chance encounter during lowest times leading to a soft adult friendship evolving to a soft and chaotic lovers pipeline)

Joshua: strangers to comfort person to lover (he gives me a feel-good coming of age feels so I'll take a storyline with the heartbroken or worn down oc finding comfort in Shua who could be a stranger or a kind colleague. a full "we helped heal each other" and then moving away due to circumstances only to realise that you need your comfort person)

Jun: holiday romance (nana tour Jun vibes. two strangers in a random city who decide to spend a week having the utmost fun and never meet again... but of course fate brings them together and the angst of reality to eventually finding a balance in the paradise of their holiday whirlwind and reality... it's giving romcom)

Woozi: Best Friends pining for decades (A very soulmate-ish friendship. Woozi and oc are so extremely obvious about their feelings but are oblivious to the reciprocation- it's also obvious to everyone around them. The angst of "what-ifs", and ofcourse songs written abt the feelings, to angry confessions and happy endings. this one includes a lotttt of angst and dozens of bangers mixed with peak domestic behaviour and two ppl so attuned to each other like old married couples)

Hoshi: Accidental dance partners Hoshi and oc (might sound basic but I'm a dancer and it's a very indulgent trope... so yeah! I'm thinking college team dancers in competing teams are forced to pair up for a competition. Out-of-the-world chemistry- can't keep eyes and hands off each other, late night talks, "non-date" date nights and ofc anger issues(performers, duh!). Lots of parties, angst and eventually confessing. She falls first but he falls harder)

Wonwoo: second-chance romance (I think Wonwoo, I think angst(sorry wonu) and second chance. oc and wonu having whirlwind honeymoon phase until oc pushes him away. lots and lots of angst- confused wonu not knowing how to help oc. both of them miserable without the other... until Wonwoo can't take it anymore and makes oc lean on him for support. very gray and grounded in reality romance)

Dokyeom: Small-town romance (sunshine Lee Seokmin as a charming small-town business owner helping big-city-return troubled oc deal with life and falling in love? sign me up for the hallmark movie! Seokmin and his golden best boy smile healing hearts as always)

Mingyu: Arranged Marriage Trope (once again, a very self-indulgent imagination...Oc who doesn't believe in love after a heartbreak, Mingyu who accepted his destiny and never loved anyone. A very practical arranged marriage with both consenting parties. An agreement to stay "partners" and "friends" because they "Can't force feelings". Domestic life leads them to break every rule- written and unwritten... angst rising due to pasts and insecurity... oc's fear of abandonment, Mingyu's fear of attachment... a minor separation and major realisation... their very own happy ending at last! Mingyu Best Husband Agenda forever)

Minghao: Rival Artists with secret identities dating each other (Minghao dates the pretty stranger on a dating app, agree to keep things casual but lo behold they are falling fast and hard... all is well except both have secret identities as artists who are rivals. they love each other but hate the other's alter-ego... ofc this leads to miscommunication and angst, lost ways and breakups. but this is my imagination so they end up together after everything and conquer the art world)

Seungkwan: Celebrity Fake dating trope (Seungkwan would eat that shit up! Two A-list celebs: Seungkwan and oc, who appear together in a show and fans go crazy for their chemistry but they don't pay head. oc gets caught in a false accusation, needs a distraction- agencies make oc and Seungkwan fake date... on-camera they r perfect but off-cam it's all awkward... planned appearances to becoming friends, trauma bonding... sexual tension rises, life gets complicated, lots of angst later they end up dating happily)

Vernon: Falling without meeting each other (two online friends, fake names but authentic friendship across continents fall for each other without ever meeting other. against all odds they end up seeing each other eventually and staying together... this gives me old cinema vibes but in modern times, Vernon is so Vernon that only he'd be fitting)

Dino: High school fake dating (imagine Dino as Peter Kavinsky from To All The Boys I've Loved Before... a popular softie boy agreeing to fake date the silent girl, the only twist is Dino has been in love with her since middle school, he fell first and harder- a full simp! Very romcom coded angst and happy endings ofc- i just know Dino will make a perfect romcom male lead)

#svt fic #seventeen #svt fluff #wonwoo #seungkwan #svt imagines #svtfoe #svt x reader #svt #vernon #woozi #jun svt #jun scenarios #scoups #jeonghan #cheol #choi seungcheol #yoon jeonghan #joshua hong #hoshi #svtgifs #hoshi x reader #mingyu #hoshi fluff #scoups fluff #scoups fanfic #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan fic #jeonghan fanfiction #joshua fluff

[hamletshoeratio]

I'm getting too emo over "What belongs to the sea can always return to the sea" because of fucking Theseus of all people.

Theseus is remembered as a hero mainly because he defeated the minotaur, but that isn't where his story ends. He abandons Ariadne, who is literally the only reason he made it through the labyrinth in the first place. He either is cursed to forget, or he himself forgets to raise white flags so his (mortal) father knows he survived, and said father throws himself into the sea in despair and dies thinking his son is dead. Becoming King of Athens as a result of that, he eventually becomes a tyrannical king after being led down a dark path by a toxic friend. Where once he was brave and cared for other people, only attacking after first being attacked, after meeting Pirithous, he began acting without thinking, doing dangerous and cruel things without thinking about the consequences of his actions. He becomes cruel and self-serving. He kidnaps a thirteen year old Helen of Sparta, intent on making her his wife (never mind the wife he already has). He tries to help his buddy kidnap a literal goddess so that they both can be married to daughters of Zeus (forgetting that said daughter of Zeus is freaking Persephone, who is already married to Hades, so not a smart plan at all). Hercules saves his ass from Hades' punishment, but even despite all of the above bullshit, the Gods still don't abandon him. Not until he murders his own son do they abandon him. He's old, and his own people despise him, so he decides to try and be a hero again. He fails. Eventually, he is either pushed or he himself jumps (depends on the retelling) into the sea and drowns.

Thesus represents the worst aspects of Poseidon. He's possessive, temperamental, violent, selfish, impulsive, and all-consuming. He doesn't take no for an answer. Percy, on the other hand, represents the opposite. He represents the best of Poseidon. He's powerful, but he's gentle too. They share a father, and they both killed the minotaur, but Percy is the one who remembers to send his mortal parent the signal that would tell them that he had survived. Theseus is reclaimed by the ocean, consumed by it, almost as if the waves are trying to cleanse away his sins. Poseidon lets Percy go to forge his own path, says that he deserves to rest (toa;ton). Percy may come and go to the sea as much or as little as he wishes.

What belongs to the sea can always return to the sea.

We do get to see Theseus once in the botl, when he's summoned by Nico. He seems to have learned from his mistakes, as he tries to persuade Nico not to go down the same path as he did (trust someone who would lead him down a dark path) and suffer the same fate as a result. I'm looking forward to the shows interpretation of this if we're lucky enough to get it.

#pjo series #pjo tv show #pjo #pjo spoilers #percy jackson and the olympians spoilers #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #poseidon pjo #theseus #to be clear theseus is still up there in my ancient greek figures i want to fight list but dam that line hit me hard

[yes-i-write-fanfiction]

What if Earthspark Optimus and Megatron were sent to the Prime universe?

How do both factions react to the pair being allies and TES Megatron having abandoned the Decepticons?

-TFP Optimus is happy to see that at least one version of Megatron and himself managed to overcome their differences and became friends. He not so secretly hopes that maybe this will inspire his own Megatron to do the same.

-Yeah, no, Ratchet doesn't buy it. He's long since given up on Megatron and while this other version does seem to have turned his life around, that doesn't mean that Ratchet trusts him one bit. Reluctantly tolerates his presence, only because Optimus (both of them).

-Bumblebee is understandably wary at first, distrustful of this mech that is so similar to the one that took away his ability to speak. But after some time, personally witnessing how different this version of Megatron is, he ultimately decides to give him a chance and trust him. Treats him with kindness but there's still some tension between them.

-Surprisingly, Bulkhead accepts it faster than you'd expect it. Look, he doesn't really understand this whole 'alternative dimension' thing but this is clearly not the Megatron that they know. Yeah, there's a sense of distrust and unease but Bulkhead won't actively try to antagonize this other version of Megatron.

-Arcee doesn't trust this Megatron. He might have turned over a new leaf but that doesn't mean that his past is forgiven. And if he was anything like their own Megatron then he's got a lot of things to make up for. Keep a close eye on him, just in case.

-TFP Megatron detests this version of himself. He could never even imagine abandoning the decepticons, the army and legacy that he's created. This version of himself is weak, pathetic and a coward and it's his duty to kill him. In the deepest part of his mind, Megatron can't help but wonder if this will one day be his own fate.

-There are some mixed feelings for Starscream. One on hand, if Megatron were to abandon the decepticons then it would serve as the perfect opportunity for himself to take the place as leader. Surely his own alternate dimension counterpart have already done just that. But at the same time, there's this anger and disgust that wells up inside of him when he thinks about it for too long. Because how dare he? After everything they've done for him, after everything Starscream has done? To just give up and cast them aside? Like all those sacrifices meant nothing to him? It leaves Starscream with a bitter taste in his mouth and a feeling of resentment towards Earthspark Megatron.

-Soundwave have never considered the possibility of Megatron abandoning the decepticons. It's always seemed impossible, crazy even. He knows Megatron better than anyone else, knows his conviction, his resolve and unbreakable will. Yet this version of Megatron forces him to consider it. It's a thought that leaves him feeling confused, devastated, furious. So many emotions that he has no idea how to handle. So, he pushes them aside, buries them in the deepest parts of his processor and locks away. Soundwave can't allow himself to start doubting, not now, not ever.

-Now, Knockout have never considered himself to be the picture of a loyal decepticon but the mere thought of Megatron, even alternative version of him, abandoning the decepticons and allying with Optimus Prime, is very amusing and slightly gratifying to him. He's always had the backup plan of defecting to the autobots if his situation with the decepticons ever took a bad turn so this makes him feel better. Of course, he would never tell anyone this.

-More than anything, Breakdown is confused. Why would Megatron abandon them? He doesn't know the situation in this alternative dimension but still, this mech was still the leader of the decepticons. What made him lose faith? What happened that made him decide that it wasn't worth fighting anymore? These questions make Breakdown feel doubtful and causes him to look at their own world's Megatron a bit differently, with some hesitation.

-Honestly? Shockwave couldn't give less of a fuck about these questions of loyalty and betrayal. Nah, he's much more interested in this alternative dimension that the two bots came from. Imagine the data, the knowledge he would possess if he managed to figure out the science between cross-dimensional travel.

-Dreadwing remains adamant in his belief in the decepticons and lord Megatron. He refuses to look at this copy of his lord and compare them to each other. They are clearly two very different bots and should not be confused as one and the same. As for the fact that this mech abandoned the decepticons? It is treachery of the highest degree and is deserving of death.

-Airachnid sees this as an opportunity to seed some chaos among both the autobots and the decepticons. She whispers words of doubt to both sides, things that will make them falter and turn them into easier targets. When everyone else are fumbling for answers it will be so much easier for her to come out on top.

#transformers imagine #transformers prime #transformers earthspark #crossover #AU #optimus prime #megatron #ratchet #bumblebee #bulkhead #arcee #soundwave #starscream #knockout #breakdown #dreadwing #shockwave #airachnid

[cherriesncinnamon]

secret / ethan landry x reader

synopsis: ghostface quickly finds you alone, smashing through your apartment to get close to you. under his knife, betrayal from the person you trusted the most was the last thing you expected.

warning/tags: mildly graphic, stabbing, blood, scream 6 spoilers, your bf is a killer.

word count: 500.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

you can hear ghostface’s shallow breaths as he drags the knife across your chest, drawing tiny droplets of crimson. your throat closes up, unable to let any words of pleading out, sealing your fate. the one time your roommates, tara and sam, leave to go to the store is the time ghostface decides to make a star appearance. typical.

after picking up a pair of fabric scissors when he was distracted, you slowly retract them from behind your back, seeing your sudden chance while he fixates on dragging out your torture, wanting to intensify your panic before slaughtering you. firmly gripping the handle, you sink it into his abdomen, putting all of your strength and anger into the pressure of the blade. ghostface tilts his head at you, quickly backing away. you keep hold of your weapon, dread washing over you as he places his gloved hand over the wound, blood running down his fingers.

“you fucking bitch.” he grunts, the whine in his tone familiarising you. you furrow your brow, denial overtaking you for a few seconds, but you know that voice all too well, too well to ever mistake it. you stifle your gasp, stomach dropping to the floor in realisation. there was a reason why your boyfriend always disappeared when you, or your friends, were being targeted by a psychotic killer. you always turned a blind eye. your sweet, innocent boyfriend would never. now, it’s looking like that level of trust will cost you your life. abandoning your safety, you run up to him, clutching the chin of the white mask, and ripping it from his face.

ethan has a huge grin painted on his expression, eyes casted over with enjoyment and darkness. he laughs at your cries, bewildered as to how you hadn’t figured it out sooner. he’d expected so much more or you, you are his partner after all, he chose you. the air thick with silence and deception, ethan takes his knife and plunges it into you at your most vulnerable moment, twisting it far into your stomach to evoke louder screams. your knees refuse to hold your body a second longer, and before you know it, you’re on the floor, writhing in pain, and completely at ethan’s disposal. he towers over you, groaning deeply, composing himself surprisingly well for being drenched in his own blood. 

slumped against your once white wall, he squats down to you height, brown curls stuck to his hot face, chest heaving. you look at him with nothing but fury in your eyes, weakly applying pressure to your worsening wound to postpone your premature death. ethan stares with dark doe eyes, feeling accomplished. you weren’t his original target, yet once he saw your friendliness with his brother’s murderer, he knew you had to go, too. after getting close to you, unfortunately, his adolescent crush overpowered his ulterior motives. he was obsessed with you, and hated you all at the same time.

“it hurts doesn’t it? hm, baby?” ethan taunts, delicately moving your hair out of your face, the blood from his fingers marking your cheek. you have no words to spill, overwhelmed by betrayal, and not willing to gift him an ounce of your energy. he takes off his glove to stroke the tears away from your under eyes, watching in validation as you groan in agony. he places a single kiss on your plump lips, suddenly expressing reconsideration. he’s going to let you live.

“this’ll be our little secret, okay?”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream 6 #scream vi

[frenchkisstheabyss]

฿ⱠɄɆ ₥Ø₦Đ₳Ɏ

୨୧ Pairing: assassin!soobin x assassin!chubby!fem!reader

୨୧ Genre: crime au/angst/smut

୨୧ Summary: Carrying a hit out on a corrupt politician at the charity event of the year might seem extreme to most women but it's a regular Friday night for you. Things like this should go smoothly, only tonight you're not the only one on the hunt.

Someone's out to get you too. Someone who knows your every move as if they were his own. But can he actually go through with killing you or will feelings from the past cause him to abandon his mission altogether?

୨୧ Word Count: 2.8k

୨୧ Warnings: you're an assassin so, ya know, guns/knives/mentions of assassinations but no actual deaths, fingering, marking, a lil bit of roughness, unprotected sex, for sure praise kink vibes, pet names (baby), and i'm pretty sure that's all.

୨୧ A/N: I'm dedicating this fic to @anyamaris who's honestly the entire reason that I wrote this to begin with. I've never met anyone who cares so deeply about what it is that other people want so here's something that's all about you because you deserve that and so much more. I hope my silly lil angsty assassin low key rom com smut makes you smile 💜

An $11,000 crystal chandelier hangs high above your head, casting a soft copper glow across the dim ballroom. Three others like it are positioned a few feet apart, framing a painting on the ceiling worth more than the four of them combined. No one raises their head to admire the beauty that the mayor’s dirty money went into crafting. They’re too distracted by the action on the floor. Champagne towers, a gorgeous woman singing atop a grand piano, mistresses in tight dresses, and business. Of course, the business. That’s what they’re really here for.

Everyone thinks that last week’s charity ball, full of senators dining with their families and taking photos with less fortunate children, was where the fate of the city was decided. But no, it’s here, in dark corners with men whose faces you’ll never see in the daylight, that corruption thrives and fates are truly decided. It turns your stomach to be here arm in arm with the Chief District Judge, smiling and nodding at every misogynistic comment he makes about the way you look tonight.

He picked it out for you, this curve hugging black dress with a slit high enough to let his mind wander to places you wish it wouldn’t. It makes you wish that he were your target for tonight but, no, instead it’s the senator halfway across the room shaking hands with old friends while his companion gets drunk enough to pretend she’s actually attracted to him. You need to get him alone but the bastard’s never alone. They should’ve just let you snipe him, quick and clean.

Your boss insisted upon something intimate though. Something sure and nothing's surer than confirming a kill with your own two eyes. Studying his movements, you’re caught off guard by a familiar scent. Cologne, powdery with notes of citrus. It brings you back to a time before all of this when you were a petty thief living in your little hole in the wall apartment with—

“Walk away” a passing voice whispers, marrying with the scent of the cologne like two pieces of the same puzzle. “It can’t be” you gasp, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. Turning your head, you catch a glimpse of a ghost from your past shifting through the crowd. Soobin. Tall, handsome, and impossible to take your eyes off of. Your palms begin to sweat, making the neck of the champagne glass slippery in your hand.

“What did you say, dear?” the Chief District Judge asks, placing his hand on yours. You smile, innocently sipping your champagne, “If you’ll excuse me a moment, I need to go to the little girl’s room.” “Oh, of course, but hurry back to me. Wouldn’t want another man to snatch you up now, would I?” “You’re so silly,” you giggle, “I’m all yours.” Sitting your glass down, you summon all of your nerves and make your way toward the stairs that lead to the second floor.

Your date’s gaze is burning through your dress, enjoying the way the fabric moves against your body as you advance the stairs. It’d make you want to crawl out of your skin if your attention wasn’t still glued on Soobin. He watches you from the bar and, even at this distance, you catch yourself drowning in the pools of chestnut he calls eyes. It’s been an eternity since you’ve seen him in a suit, long enough that you’d forgotten how elegant he looks in one.

Your brain’s wracked with questions. What’s he doing here? Is he on the same job? Why’s he telling you to walk away? Making a quick left turn, you dip into the bathroom and rush into one of the stalls to gather yourself. You take a deep breath, peeking beneath the other stalls to be sure you don’t have company. All clear. “Just relax, okay? Don’t let him throw you off your game. You will finish this. Pretend he isn’t even here. He doesn’t even exist.”

The bathroom door swings open, and a pair of black laced Prada Oxfords step inside. “Baby?” Soobin sings, locking the door behind him. Staring straight ahead he sees nothing. Only polished marble sinks and spotless mirrors reflecting a motionless row of stalls. “I know you’re in here,” he says, quietly pushing open the door to the nearest stall. Empty. “So why don’t you just come out?” Kicking off your heels, you retrieve the knife tucked into your garter. At the same time, Soobin slips out the gun hidden beneath his suit jacket.

He pushes open the door to the second stall and the auto sensor flushes the toilet, giving you both a miniature heart attack. Soobin laughs, moving on to the next stall, “And what’s behind door number 3?” The door flies open and out you come, the tip of your blade slicing through the arm of his jacket. Soobin spins you off in the direction of the sink but catches you before your lower back hits the edge. 

“Why do you have a knife?” 

“Why do you have a gun?” 

“That’s fair.” 

Kneeing him in the stomach, you wrap your arm around his and struggle to grab hold of the gun. “Stop it!” he demands, gripping you by the back of your dress and tossing you back into the stall you came out of. Regaining your footing, you move to charge back at him but the barrel of his gun’s already aimed at your kneecaps. “Shit,” you mumble, pissed at yourself for not having moved quicker, “What do you want?”

“Walk away” he answers. The same words he whispered to you moments ago, only there’s a nearly undetectable drop of sadness in them now that he has to face you. You still look like the picture of you he keeps in his phone. A few years older, a few more kills to your name, but a dream to behold nonetheless. 

“You know I can’t do that. I have a job to do.”

“So do I but I don’t wanna do it” he begs, the sadness in his voice growing heavier, “Please don’t make me do it.”

He aims the barrel at your chest and he might as well pull the trigger because the pain that penetrates your heart makes you want to fold over. You’d expected that someday someone would be sent to stop you but him? Being assigned to different agencies had done a lot to tear you apart but your love for him never changed. Maybe you’d been foolish to think that he would feel the same. “Me? You took a job to kill me?”

“I had no choice. It’s nothing personal.” “Nothing personal?” you shout, the hurt quickly turning to anger, “Bullshit. So, if I don’t agree to walk away, you pull the trigger, is that right?” Soobin’s shoulders drop, his head turning away from you, “That’s right.” “Then pull the trigger,” you say, stepping forward so that it’s pressed to your chest. Soobin turns back to you, his face twisted in a scowl, “Don’t say that.” Your heart’s racing a mile a minute and the handle of your blade’s clenched so tightly in your fist that it’s creating an imprint on your palm.

You don’t want to die but if you don’t finish this your boss will kill you anyway. “Pull the trigger” you repeat, searching his eyes for any sign of the man who used to hold you on dark nights when the world felt too scary to face. Soobin was once your protector. He wishes that he still could be. He wants to be. Why’d you have to follow him into this world? He left you behind to give you a chance at something normal with someone normal. Why couldn’t you just walk away? Why can’t you now?

“You’re so damn stubborn,” he groans, fighting his body’s urge to become a jittery mess. You crack a teary eyed smile, “You used to love that about me.” It’s ever present in his mind that if he doesn’t do this he’ll have hell to pay. He can’t just let you go. He can’t but...shit, he has to. He lowers his gun, sliding open the magazine and emptying the bullets onto the floor. Nothing in this world could ever make him hurt you. Anyone else wouldn’t have made it up those stairs alive. You, though, are untouchable.

Soobin walks over to the sink, staring at himself in the mirror. What he’s just done is a death sentence. The price on your head has just transferred onto his. It’s only a matter of hours, two or maybe three, before he’s blacklisted. “Soob,” you say, placing your knife down on the sink, “You still care.” He glances at you in the mirror, amazed at how such an intelligent woman can be this clueless. “I never stopped caring. I don’t think I can. I probably won’t stop loving you until—” You take his hand, stroking his fingers, “Stay with me. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

He gently squeezes your hand, a quiet acknowledgment of your attempt to comfort him. “It’s better for you without me here.” “Just like your note said before” you sigh, pulling your hand back. It’s deja vu. He’s pushing you away like he always has. Last time you fought your hardest to keep him but not this time. “You love me” you scoff, making your way back into the stall to collect your things, “But I’m still not enough for you to stay. Not even when your life depends on it.”

Reaching down to slip one of your heels back on, you feel a set of arms around your waist. They embrace you firmly enough to keep you close and softly enough to communicate that there’s nothing to fear. You turn in time to be kissed with such passion that you forget these are the lips of the man sent to kill you. None of that means anything. You only care that they’re on yours, his hands hungrily gripping at your hips…your thighs…your ass…any part of you he can reach.

There are no fireworks between you. The need that’s built up for you both is too strong to reduce to technicolored sparks in the night sky. This is an atomic bomb. A force strong enough to wreck you and you welcome it with open arms. Soobin can’t steal his mouth away from yours, he’s glued to you. “You’re more than enough” he promises, backing you against the wall, “So much more.” “Then why do you run away?” you ask, tearing his jacket even more as you help him out of it. He lifts your dress, letting his palm skim the lace of your panties. “I’m no good for you.”

Ripping his shirt open, you send buttons clinking to the ground where the bullets lay. You touch his chest and feel his body tense as you tease your way down to his belt. “I never asked you to be good for me. Be bad for me” you whine, squeezing your thighs to get the friction you find yourself growing desperate for. Flipping you around, he slaps your ass just the way you like. You arch your back as his thumb tucks your panties to the side, his middle and pointer fingers pushing into you.

In the quiet of the empty bathroom, all he can hear are your low sweet, moans and the splashing of your juices each time his fingers curl into your core. “You feel so good on my fingers, baby. Just dripping for me” he growls, his other hand coming around your neck to bring you closer to him. Your nails claw at the wall, the feeling of being pressed against it as his fingers fuck deeper into you intense enough to make you want to climb it.

Reaching back, you knot your fingers into his hair, pulling at it each time he hits your sweet spot. “One more” you moan, grinding back against his hand. “One more? You sure you can take it?” You nod, feeling a third finger brush your inner thigh, “I can take it, mmm, oh god.” His third finger slides into you slowly, his wrist rotating to stimulate you from every angle. “That’s it, baby. Take it for me. You like it when I fill you up with my fingers?” “Yes, I…I love it. So good. So—”

The door to the bathroom jiggles and you both freeze completely. At least you do. Soobin’s still except his fingers which remain inside of you, moving at a tortourlsy slow pace. The door jiggles again and there’s the low chattering of a group of women.

“Cut it out. What if they get in?” you whisper, turning to stop him. Soobin smiles down at you, sweeping you into another kiss, “So what if they get in?” Hooking his arms behind your legs, he lifts you off of your feet, the tip of his cock flicking at your clit. Your body shivers, making enough sound to give pause to the women outside. “You’re terrible” you giggle, reaching between you to stroke his length. You lightly trace the head of his cock with your thumb, guiding him closer and closer to your slit.

Soobin lowers his hips, raising them to thrust into you a little at a time until you’re writhing on his cock, too full to know what to do with yourself. Catching you staring up at him, your eyes sparkling like stars, makes the air feel thinner. It’s like he’s somewhere high up, climbing a mountain and losing air the higher he goes but he can’t stop. The way you make him feel, he can’t let go of it. Reaching up to cup his face, you plant kisses on his bare chest, choking back moans. “You’re perfect,” you say, meaning it with all your heart.

Soobin shakes his head, spreading your legs wider, “Not as perfect as you. Never as perfect as you.” The noise outside of the door quiets as the women give up, heading off in search of another bathroom. Soobin wastes no time thrusting into you, gripping your thighs hard enough to mark you. “Fuck, yes, just like that, ah!” Your lids fall closed and maybe Soobin was right, there must be stars in your eyes because they’re all you see in the darkness. “You’re so tight for me. So warm. I want you to cum for me” he whispers, pushing in deeper and holding you there. “Cum for me and don’t hold back.”

Grinding you onto him, he can feel every part of you and you feel every part of him. The twitching of every vein traveling up his length in response to the clenching of your walls. You’re the cutest thing, your body shivering, pillowy tits bouncing, filling the bathroom with incoherent moans. It’s almost as if he has you wrapped around his finger, something like a rubber band, twisted around and around until you’re pushed so far beyond your limits that you’re about to snap. 

“Oh…” is all you get out before you break, grasping at his chest as your senses are overtaken by something too heavenly to fathom. “My little killer” he coos, kissing the last bit of smeared lipstick from your lips, “You’ve always been worth it.” The clock’s ticking on his mission and soon on his life as well. All he wants with whatever precious minutes he has left is to stay in this moment with you but life, as always, has different plans. 

A phone sounds, a wistful ringtone echoing through the bathroom. Opening your eyes, you glance down at the phone peeking out of his jacket pocket. The screen flashes RESTRICTED. “Better get that,” you say, patting him on the arm to let him know it’s okay. Soobin carefully lets your legs down, only reaching for the phone when he’s sure you’re okay. “Hello? Yes. I know, I should’ve reached out sooner. I—” His attention momentarily strays to you gathering bullets from the floor and loading them back into his gun. “Did I handle her? Confirmed. Mission complete.”

Hanging up, he tosses it across the floor and you shoot it. Perfect aim. “They’ll be sending someone to confirm the kill soon,” he says, readjusting his pants to make himself decent, “We should get going.” “We?” you ask, checking to make sure you heard him right. Bundling your things up in his jacket, he approaches you much too happily for such a dire situation. “Yes, we, if you’ll have me.”

You take your heels from him, throwing them back on. “Of course, I will. Just one thing, point another gun at me and I’ll kill you.” Throwing your purse over your shoulder you float over to the bathroom door, still high off of your orgasm, and unlock it. Soobin trails behind you, content to do so for the rest of his life, “Point gun. Die. Noted.”

#soobin x reader #soobin x you #soobin angst #soobin smut #txt angst #txt x you #txt x reader #txt au #txt smut #chubby reader #plus size reader

[fengxun]

ONE LOVE, ONE LIFETIME – YONE X READER

“Well, if you decide to come back here one day,” you said, reaching for his hand. Your skin felt warm against his own. “Just know that I’ll be here waiting for you.” Or, the one where Yone fell first.

CONTENT.⠀gender-neutral reader; romance, light angst and hurt/comfort, family issues, elitism in the family (yeah), Asshole Father bc I have problems, family member death, very heavily implied that MC was an accident baby, talks about death and the afterlife on yone's end, brief talks of arranged marriage, allusions to misogyny. + Spirit Blossom AU with some changes to fit the narrative. ~11k words

NOTES.⠀I wanted to finish this before I start properly using the break so woe ~20 pages be upon ye. I've had this in my drafts for ages and it took longer than I would've liked but! we made it! this is a gift for my beloved @kakujis, a dear friend and my Shimada Liker in Arms. <3 I hope you enjoy!!

divider by cafekitsune | cross-posted on ao3

Pride and honour stood above all else.

Such a lesson was established in your clan from the moment of its founding, forging ahead generations of noble swordsmen who have never strayed from their paths. Every child born into the family is bound to duty, raised and trained by the elite until they are seen as ready for the battles ahead of them. Pride flowed in your veins and you were taught to believe that what you bleed is your negligence. Honour is engraved in your bones, down to the marrow—strong as the seas, and immovable as the mountains.

Every child of your family knows this by heart, including you, the broken one. The odd one out. The blemish on what would otherwise be a pristine reputation.

Born without the same mana or prowess that all of your brothers possessed, you were deemed a flawed child undeserving of the honour of your family name. Fate restricted you from following the path you wished to take as soon as they decided on where your life began. How was it fair at all to put such a heavy burden on a child’s shoulders? On someone who hadn’t opened their eyes for the first time yet?

You craved to learn the ways of a warrior, to be someone the younger generation could trust and look up to. Instead, you were scorned in your own home by a family that was hellbent on upholding tradition and their position among the elite. All because you were born differently. Anything said about you was always done in contempt, especially from your own flesh and blood—your father, your brothers, and your sisters.

‘You are not my child.’ It was your father’s way of saying he didn’t want himself or his beloved sons associated with you, his flesh and blood. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. So long as he and the oh-so-esteemed council were alive, you would never be seen as a part of the family. So long as he continued to breathe, he would look down on you as much as he could. And yet, even though he so explicitly despised you, you still did everything you could so you could be worth his time.

A fruitless endeavour. He held your weakness over your head, his glare a constant reminder of how he’d always see you as a failure. You would never be enough. You wanted to leave, but where would you go? Without your family name, you had nothing. With your name, all you were was a bastard. You were bound to a home that didn’t welcome you.

‘You are not my child.’ You didn’t want to be.

You wished you had the chance to meet your mother. She abandoned you on the doorstep, they would say whenever you asked about her, your father saved you. It wasn’t until years later that you learned the truth. She never abandoned you—she was threatened, forbidden from stepping foot inside the mansion again. You used to wish she had fought more and taken you with her, but the more you grew, the more you understood. Whatever fury you harboured towards her dwindled like a flame dying on its own.

She didn’t have a choice. You knew firsthand what that felt like. Everything the elders said was law; within these walls, there was no going against them. They saw her as disposable, a lowly commoner who just happened to earn the affection of a nobleman for a night. And dispose of her they did. As the midwife took you away, your mother was sent off to another city in a carriage that never returned. No one spoke of her again. Whether it was by command or a collective agreement, you weren’t sure.

There were times when her name would come up in hushed whispers. Some of them were from your father. You remember being six years old and listening to your father’s drunk mumbling. With a hand on your head, he told you that you looked just like your mother. It was the gentlest he’d ever been with you. But when the inebriation left his system the next morning, your loving father was gone, and the patriarch was back.

His soft tone became harsh once again. His eyes burned with hatred. It was as if everything was just a dream. It might as well have been. You chalked it up to him having a bad day, just like yesterday and the day before that. Surely he’d be kind to you again if he drank.

He wasn’t.

And as if taking your mother away wasn’t already enough of a mockery, you were constantly reminded that this was not your home. That you were here because you belonged to the clan. You’ve always been. You were already their property from the moment you inhaled your first breath.

Your life was theirs, but even that wasn’t enough.

(You don’t think you’ll ever be.)

A child in a loveless family. Your father thought it wasn’t worth trying to train you, having decided that you were beyond help. Your brothers didn’t see you as someone they had to protect. Your sisters didn’t want to be seen with you. All you had were your grandparents.

With them, you were treated as family. It didn’t matter to them that you didn’t have what your siblings did. They loved you.

You spent mornings in the apothecary room with your grandmother, learning all about herbs and medicine from all around the world. In the afternoon, you’d spend time training with your grandfather in the dojo and listening to his stories of ages past. Then, every evening, you’d spend time with both of them at the temple that they cared for. All of your best memories were made there. When your grandparents inevitably passed, you didn’t hesitate to pick up from where they left off.

Your volunteering to maintain its upkeep seemed to satisfy the elders enough. At least you’ll be useful in something, your father said without batting an eye. You liked to think you’d become numb to all the jabs thrown your way, but you were wrong.

The temple was your getaway, somewhere you could hide from the world and feel more at home than you did in the estate. The smell of flowers and herbs inside the temple, alongside the sight of the sunrise or sunset, never failed to lull you into a state of tranquillity. The voices you’d hear from around you weren’t those of disappointment, but those of birds chirping in a joyous tune. It was the only place you’ll ever feel at peace in. Seeing the names of your grandparents engraved on the stone slabs broke your heart whenever you walked by. You might not grieve any more, but you were still alone.

Ionian faith and tradition flowed in your veins. You were taught about grace by your grandmother and what it meant to be dignified, worthy of respect even without noteworthy achievements. Your grandfather taught you strength and combat so you could protect yourself and others from monsters, both human and unknown. You wouldn’t have gotten the chance to learn the blade elsewhere. He was more than enthusiastic to pass on his knowledge to you. He’d grown weak with age, he said, but you’ve always thought he was the greatest swordsman you know. Aside from the temple, the dojo was where you felt the happiest, but as always, good things never lasted long for you.

In your world, secrets were nearly impossible to have. Spies and traitors lurked in the walls, engraving every decision you made and every word you spoke into their memory. It didn’t take long for your father to find out about the lessons his father had been giving you. In fury, he forbade you from entering the dojo or holding a weapon again and told you that you didn’t deserve to carry on his father’s legacy. Forced to leave behind your passion and descend into monotony, the art of the blade eventually left your mind. Had you just fought back—

No. Not everything was under your control. As long as you were in your father’s home, he would continue to treat you however he liked. The cruel words will keep being said, behind your back and to your face, but you won’t give them the satisfaction. You swore not to let anyone see you at your weakest again. You hated the name that you bear, but you would honour it the way you were taught to. The world might be against you, but there is always a light at the end of the tunnel. Staying hopeful in a place like Ionia was all you could do.

Dawn always comes after dusk. The sun always rises for a new day. You didn’t see why it should be any different for you.

—

Your days got busier as the Spirit Blossom festival approached.

More and more people came to honour their loved ones every day, praying and making offerings to their ancestors for protection. You weren’t sure if you ever attended the festival yourself. You knew of the legends and stories behind it, of its reasons and purposes, but you had only been a bystander. You couldn’t see spirits even if you wanted to anyway, you thought bitterly, so there wasn’t a way for you to see your grandparents again.

‘In the Spirit Blossom festival, the dead reunite with their loved ones until the afterlife calls for them again.’

Whether or not it was possible to see said spirits, it was still hard to ignore the longing in your heart. The cycle of life and death was not unknown (you were more familiar with it than you’d like) but you didn’t think anyone could ever get used to it. You loved deeply, and when the ones you love are taken away from you, you’re left alone with yourself. You weren’t a stranger to partaking in as many tasks as possible to stop needlessly thinking, either. You spent your entire morning doing chores and running errands for this reason. You needed to keep yourself busy so you could drift away just for a little while.

With all of your tasks completed, you had nothing left to do. Leaves were swept into neat piles that the farmers always came to pick up later per routine. It took longer than you would’ve liked, though you supposed it was bound to happen when the workload wasn’t meant for one person, but two. The other shrine maiden had an ‘urgent matter to attend to,’ as her messenger informed you and left. You knew right away she paid him to cover for her. You’d like to think you mellowed out with age, having lived for almost three decades, but you were wrong. You were just as easy to irk as you were as a child.

‘It’s not a good thing to harbour negativity in a sacred place,’ your grandmother’s voice rang in your head, ‘it brings bad luck.’ But there you stood, the most irate you’ve ever been as you wished a terrible week upon the both of them.

Thanks to the tedious work done in all your lonesome, the tile flooring within the temple was spotless. The altar was dusted and reorganised, ready to accept the next batch of offerings. The place smelled more like soap than the usual floral incense you were used to. On any other day, you’d return to your quarters after such a productive time, maybe read a book before you go to sleep, but nature had other plans in store.

The wind howled and rain started to pitter-patter against the rooftop while the sun began its descent. Silhouettes of nature and man-made structures were the only company you had as you made your way back into the prayer room. Away from the rain, you idly watched the world go by from inside. You remembered your grandfather telling you about his battles in a storm and how tumultuous it had been. The retellings of his past exploits were your favourite stories to listen to in your childhood. He travelled through the lands and protected those he held dear with honour. He lived a life of pride and accomplishments that you wanted to have in yours. You still did.

A singular incense stick burnt in the centre of the bowl of ash and sand, its smoke disappearing into the air as it did so. The air grew colder as the sun set, painting the sky in warm hues and your skin in gooseflesh. The storm outside threatened to extinguish the flames within the lantern posts outside. Your uniform robe and long skirt, despite its many layers and the fabric, didn’t aid much in shielding you from the cold. A shiver ran down your spine from the sudden drop in temperature.

If you were asked what you disliked about this time of the year, you would say the weather’s unpredictability as the veil was lifted. The day started pleasantly; the sun was bright and the spring breeze was refreshing. There was no way you could’ve known that there would be a storm approaching.

The doors slammed shut with a loud bang, making you jump in fright and instinctively reach for a sword you no longer owned. You frowned. Years had passed since you last held a weapon, and you weren’t sure if your body had any memory of it at all. If danger were to actually happen, your only means of defence would be the old wooden broom in the corner, which you doubted made for a good weapon. Still, you found yourself keeping it close, your fingers curling tightly around the handle. It was better to be safe than sorry. You were fortunate enough to live in a densely populated area that was well protected, but as typical of an Ionian village, worse things awaited after sunset.

You were a cautious person for as long as you could remember. As optimistic as you tried to be, you weren’t exactly so convinced that there was such a thing as a safe haven. So long as peace exists, so will chaos, and with chaos comes things that are out of your control. You were taught to let things progress the way fate and nature intended them to, to let go of your anxieties because you always worried over ‘nothing.’

But that was easier said than done. You worried for a reason. Everything happens for a reason. Fate weaves the threads of life the way it wants to. The strong are led to lives of fame and power, and the blessed are led to lives of love and fortune. But you weren’t strong or blessed, you were cursed. If the Creator put you on earth for a reason, what is it? What path does fate want you to take, and what did you do in your past life to be put in such a suffocating position?

The anxiety at the pit of your stomach grew stronger the longer you observed the forest and the shadows in between. In the daylight, the temple was comforting and tranquil, picturesque, but it hadn’t occurred to you until then how daunting it was in the dark. It was a quiet night, eerily so, and the floorboards creaked beneath your feet as you padded into the prayer area. Tentatively, you placed the broom down and knelt before the statues of the gods you worshipped. The incense burnt itself down to the base, gradually putting out the flame on its own.

‘If you are afraid, pray. The gods will protect you.’

You weren’t a child anymore. Monsters only existed in stories—there was nothing to be afraid of. But the feeling persisted and it became worse as the door swung open and slammed against the wall. You heard something breathing.

It wasn’t the wind.

A low growl rumbled from the chest of whatever was stalking towards you. An animal of some sort. A predator. Your mind screamed at you to just run, but you were terrified, you couldn’t move and your body just wouldn't listen—

It drew closer.

You were going to die, ripped apart by a monster, and it was going to hurt more than anything ever had. Squeezing your eyes shut, you muttered a prayer under your breath in hopes that it would help. Maybe it was a spirit that couldn’t pass on. If you prayed for it, you could alleviate its pain and then be left alone. You were frantic, the words coming out incoherent as you got tongue-tied and struggled to remember the rest of them. When you felt it breathing down the back of your neck, your voice died in a choked whine. It watched you with hunger and it raised its claws with murderous intent, ready to slash.

It never did.

Instead, you heard the gargling of blood, followed by a clatter on the floor. Your body finally listened and you turned around to see what you could only describe as a demon. The glow in its mask’s eyes dimmed as it died with a sword speared through its chest, inches away from your face. In terror, you watched it bleed as the crimson splattered on your skin. It crumbled into dust as if it was never there. Just like that, it was dead and gone.

The mask dropped where your saviour stood. Wordlessly, he picked it up and attached it to a grotesque belt adorned with similar faces. All you could do was watch as everything slowly sank in. The downpour became louder, heavier. Your ears rang and your body felt numb. The only sound you heard was your ragged breathing as you tried to calm down and think. This must be a nightmare. It had to be. It had to be a hallucination from your paranoia and lack of sleep.

You closed your eyes and opened them again. The man was still standing in front of you.

You weren’t dreaming.

It was all real, from the blood splattered on the ground to the man in front of you. Half of his face was covered by a red mask, more menacing than what the monster had worn. Bandages were loosely wrapped around his torso and his arms, revealing some of his pale skin and scars from what could only be combat.

You weren’t dreaming.

A monster you had never seen tried to kill you and you were lucky enough that this man came to save your life. It felt as though your mind stopped entirely. You didn’t know where to start. Were you supposed to ask about the monster or ask about him?

You decided on the latter. “How did you know it was here?”

A beat of silence passed, and then he spoke.

“It is my curse to bear.”

That didn’t really answer your question. You attempted to ask again, but one glance at his face made you realise that he didn’t care about answering them. It was essentially impossible to tell what he was thinking and you’d rather not agitate someone as intimidating as him.

“Thank you,” you opted to say instead.

Your gaze landed on the swords in his hands. Blood was still dripping off of the red blade that seemed to be glowing. If his mask was menacing, his blades were worse—you had never seen anything quite like them.

He didn’t respond. All he gave you was a nearly imperceptible nod, a sign of acknowledgement. Seemingly satisfied with his kill, he made the move to leave, and your thoughts ran rampant. You wanted answers, an explanation, anything to make sense out of what happened.

You should let him go. You should run home before you encounter another one of those things again when you’re not as lucky, but you didn’t.

“Wait!” you called out, louder than you intended. “Teach me how to fight.”

He stopped in his tracks, then slightly looked back at you. The action had you fidgeting nervously. There was a gut feeling that he was going to say—

“No.”

You needed him to teach you. He was strong. He knew what those things were and how to kill them. He could help you. If that thing could come in here so easily, undeterred by the protective runes and wards placed around the temple, another could do it again. You couldn’t afford to let this place get destroyed because of your inability to defend it. You needed to protect your grandparents’ memory, a small sliver of their legacy that you were allowed to touch. You had to.

The chance was falling out of your hands right in front of you. Your confidence wavered, but you tried again. “I… I’ll pay you. Just name your price.”

“Money has no value to me.”

“Please?” Your voice was quieter, more hesitant. “This place, it’s… It’s all I have left. I need to protect it.”

“I can’t,” he said. “I have a duty I must fulfil.”

“Please—wait!”

This time, he didn’t spare you another glance as he walked off into the night, leaving you afraid and alone with the monster’s blood still on your skin.

—

No matter how many years passed, Yone’s hands would always be stained in blood.

The village was different from what he remembered. He knew of it when it was in flames and scattered with bodies of the brave. With what little time it had after the war, the village has been rebuilt from the disaster that the Noxians left behind. It was stronger, safer, liberated from their clutches. More swordsmen and warriors were patrolling the area, all bearing the crest of the clan that owned the village itself.

That didn’t. The clan of where men were raised to be elite warriors and women were raised to be the most adept of mages, known for their noble blood and valiance. Their estate was fortified and bigger than it used to be, looming over the smaller houses that unsurprisingly didn’t get as much protection. What seemed to be the most protected, though, was the temple. It was known to be a sanctuary to the villagers and the most important value to them was faith. Seeing said sanctuary well-protected wasn’t a shock. It was always that way.

As a child, he used to visit the temple on particularly rough days. Sometimes, his brother would come along, and they’d go find the master swordsman who took care of it with his wife, the shrine maiden. His brother in particular enjoyed hearing all about the swordsman’s stories, inspired by his strength and bravery that remained well into his older years. His wife was stern but motherly to all, more doting towards children than adults.

They weren’t like the rest of the clan who looked down on the weak; they loved. They loved their home, they loved their fellow men, and they loved the world. The people loved them, too. He loved them, just like they loved this sanctuary they built.

Yone stepped into the courtyard. Though it was past sunset, he could see that the place was much greener. More flowers had grown since then and the spring was well-maintained. He thought that the temple remained the most welcoming place he ever found himself in. It was clear that whoever was taking care of this place did it with the same love that the elderly couple had. He spotted their names on the stone slabs written in gold. There wasn’t just one bouquet on their grave, but several. Well-loved even after death as they deserved.

As he approached the main building, he sensed it—danger lurking within, undoubtedly the work of a monster he was all too familiar with. The wooden doors were broken and splintered. Cautiously, he stepped inside. True to his suspicion, at the end of the hall was an azakana hunched over someone, its grotesque mass a stark contrast to the pristine state of the walls as it growled and breathed heavily. His swords glinted in the light of the moon as he drew them.

Yone’s kills were clean and precise. He didn’t need to destroy his surroundings to prove his strength, nor did he think that he was destructive to that extent. As disciplined in life, as disciplined in death, and even more so in between. His physiology was wholly different from what it had been when he was alive. His being alone defied life itself.

He felt weightless, numb yet still in full control of his body as he moved into the prayer room, his footsteps not making a single sound. He heard what sounded like crazed muttering from where the azakana stood, something akin to pleading or perhaps a prayer. The azakana raised its hand. Its talons grew longer and sharper, prepared to strike whoever it was hiding. Before it could, Yone pierced his blade through its heart, silently watching as it disintegrated back into nothing but ashes and dust on the ground.

“How did you know it was here?” you asked, still struggling to catch your breath.

He was silent for a while as he picked up the mask it left behind and pinned it to his belt as proof of yet another successful hunt. You were staring up at him with teary eyes, still shaken from being so close to death’s grasp. He didn’t want to alarm you—he knew he looked ghastly—but you were obviously different from what he was. You were alive, vulnerable, and from the way you quivered like a leaf, you had never encountered one of those things before.

“It is my curse to bear,” he replied smoothly. A practised response, one that he hoped would be all you asked for. Yone knew it didn’t answer your question. As if you had more questions—you most likely did; he didn’t blame you for that—you parted your lips to speak, but no words came out.

Slightly defeated, you exhaled and gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”

Yone glanced at you. Your face felt familiar to him like you were an old friend he hadn’t seen in years. You must be related to the previous caretakers somehow. The resemblance you had with them was striking. The way you spoke was timid, unlike the boisterous master swordsman or the confident shrine maiden. It didn’t bother him. If he was like you, defenceless in your position, he would’ve acted the same way. You seemed to be calming down with each breath you took, making him relax just the slightest. You weren’t harmed.

Aside from the azakana’s blood, tonight, his hands were clean, and he wouldn’t need to repent.

He decided to leave. There was no reason why he should stay for any longer. The sooner he could find the other stray malevolent spirits, the safer his childhood home would be. Things like him didn’t have the privilege of resting. He didn’t need it. Before he made it past the door, you called out for him, forcing him to stop in his tracks.

“Teach me how to fight.”

He didn’t hesitate. “No.”

“I… I’ll pay you. Just name your price.”

You looked less and less confident with each passing second. Dealing with stubborn people wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for him. He grew up with Yasuo—he was more than used to it. He pursed his lips.

“Money has no value to me.”

“Please.” Yone should’ve been out for the next hunt by now, but there was something in your voice that kept him staying where he was. “This place, it’s… It’s all I have left. I need to protect it.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help you. He wanted to protect what he could too. It just… wasn’t for him. He thought you’d be better off learning from a master. Surely you could go to the dojo that your clan owned?

“I can’t,” he replied, realising that he had left you hanging. “I have a duty I must fulfil.”

He didn’t look back this time. The cold air of the night greeted him as he stepped out and put his swords back in their sheaths. The rain washed away the blood and its remnants on the stones beneath his feet. The skies seemed to be clearer than they were earlier. The moon and stars glowed brightly in the darkness, illuminating the paths before him. There was a nagging feeling in his chest that he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Something was off—were there more azakana hiding in the area? He decided he’d patrol the forest one more time before moving on elsewhere.

He left without a trace, just like a ghost like him always did.

—

You started to carry a dagger with you wherever you went.

It wasn’t a naginata or ootachi like you were trained to use, but it made you feel safer to have something you can defend yourself with. Thankfully, the temple wasn’t damaged too badly, though it would still take some time to repair. One of the older mages dropped by and offered to cast a protective seal, which you gladly accepted.

“Miss?” you asked, fidgeting nervously as she finished up her work.

She hummed. “Yes, dear?”

“Is the… The veil, is it already open?”

“It should be by now.” She contemplated for a bit. “I will say, it wasn’t this disastrous last year… I assume it’s because the magical energy is stronger this time around. Don’t worry, dear—nature will have adapted to it by now.”

“I see. Thank you,” you chirped. “I’m more worried about the temple getting attacked or broken than anything… I can’t see spirits the same way you can. I won’t be able to protect myself.”

“The seal will keep out malevolent entities.” She placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. Then she lowered her voice as if she was worried someone would hear her. “Was this really done by the storm? I could feel something strange in the air when I came here.”

You hesitantly shook your head. “There was a monster. It broke in and some—something else killed it.”

“What did it look like?”

“I was too scared to look,” you said apologetically, “but it was wearing a mask.”

“A mask?”

“It looked like a demon. The same ones in stories I used to read as a child.”

The mage frowned. “We’ll need a stronger seal than the one I put here, then.”

“Do you know what they are?”

“They’re called azakana. They are demons,” she explained. “You’re really lucky to have made it out alive. Those creatures are ruthless. They’ll stop at nothing.”

Azakana. You didn’t think you heard of them. You weren’t allowed in the magic library. Your grandparents didn’t like going into detail about the unknown, said it was just hearsay. You never got to explore the world the same way they did. All you knew in your entire life was the estate. You contemplated sneaking into the library to learn about everything that was kept from you, but there were bigger matters at hand.

“How do I stop them?”

“You kill them before they kill you,” she answered wryly. “I’ll do all I can to help keep the temple safe, but I can’t guarantee your protection.”

You had a busy afternoon ahead of you—more errands to run, more favours to do—so you couldn’t stay for long. With a polite goodbye, you went your own way, her words echoing in your mind all the while. You’d have to retrace your steps and learn to fight by yourself. The thought of how ridiculous you’d look training alone made you grimace. But she was right; it was kill or be killed. You wouldn’t always be as fortunate as you were a few days prior.

You idly swung the empty basket in your hand as you walked through the estate. The gardens look much better now. The hedges were trimmed, wilted flowers were removed, and the pond was clear. You couldn’t believe a storm just happened. The weather seemed to have settled for good, too. It was a warm and sunny day, the perfect weather for you to collect herbs and flowers for the village apothecary. She had become more frail with age, and considering her station isn’t too far from the temple, you offered to do the job for her. In your pocket was a written list of what she needed. It was nothing too difficult to find.

You were about to leave until you heard your name coming from someone in the meeting room. The doors were closed, but the walls were thin enough for you to be able to hear through them.

“—a leftover person,” a voice said—you recognised it as your uncle’s. “Past the age of marriage, but it could still be an option.”

Your heart dropped. You hid behind a wall, your fists clenched tightly around the handle of the basket as you tried to calm down and stay quiet lest you get caught eavesdropping.

Another voice chimed in. “—offspring would be cursed as well. Are you sure you don’t want to set up an arranged marriage? It’s been years—”

“Being constantly reminded of a mistake I made nearly thirty years ago is quite irritating, councillor,” came the unmistakable haughty voice of your father. “I said no. I refuse to tarnish our family name.”

You should be used to this. The cruel words, the hatred, the anger, but you can’t, no matter how much you’ve tried. It’s not as if you’re unaware of your power or lack thereof. It’s been said to you time and time again: you were weak, you were nothing.

“—what about training? It could help with getting started,” a feminine voice added. You weren’t surprised that she was the only one who was less harsh with her words talking about you so far. She of all people would know how you felt.

“Out of the question,” your father replied snidely. “Our mages and swordsmen are all pure-blooded. The bastard doesn’t deserve the honour of being one of them.”

Their words slipped through your ears. You were no longer listening; instead, you bit down on your lip and tried to hold back tears. How could someone hate their flesh and blood so much? How could he take everything away from you so easily? Not caring that they would hear you, you stormed out the gates while harshly wiping away your tears with your hands. Knowing them, they probably wanted you to.

You ran and pushed past strangers, unbothered by the concerned and irritated looks you were given. You ran until you found yourself deep in the forest, far enough so you could be left alone. Everything you tried to hold back then burst. You wailed, nails digging into your skin and your body wracked with sobs. The sound of water flowing down the stream slowly but surely calmed you down. The sobs eventually became quiet sniffles until they stopped entirely. Your tears dried on their own and you could finally breathe again.

Looking up from your hands, your gaze drifted to a fawn across the river. It lovingly nudged its mother with its head, stumbled a bit as it tried to keep up with her pace. The sight warmed your heart. It was always nice to see beings, human or animal, be gentle to one another. You hoped to be in that position someday.

A twig snapped behind you. Alarmed, you reflexively grabbed your dagger and whipped around, but the threat you were going to say died on your tongue when you saw who it was. The masked man—the one who saved you from the azakana—stood before you, huffing at you as if he found something funny.

“I’m not here to hurt you.”

You glowered at him with furrowed brows before hesitantly relaxing, putting the dagger back in its sheath. “What are you doing here?”

“The dojo.”

“What?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Did you not ask me to teach you how to fight?”

“I did, but…”

You bit the inside of your cheek. It was kind of him to seek you out again to tell you this, but you weren’t sure how you felt. Part of you wanted to say yes, to learn to protect yourself and others. The bigger part of you already felt defeated. You could only be tough for so long before you started to break.

“Thank you for reconsidering,” you said. You meant it. “But I’m not allowed there.”

“Not allowed?”

“My father is quite a stickler for the rules.” You chuckled humorlessly. “Only his sons are allowed in that dojo. The ones with noble blood, not the bastards. Take a guess where I fall between those two.”

He mulled over your words for a bit. Then he said, “Tell me your preferred weapon.”

You blinked dumbly. “Huh?”

“Your stance. It doesn’t belong to someone who uses a dagger.”

You supposed it made sense for someone like him to know something that even you didn’t notice. Awkward as he might be, it was evident that he was passionate about what he knew. A man of honour and discipline, a dual wielder with effortless lethality. You wondered how someone like him wasn’t revered and well-known the same way that the bladesman from Wuju and the blade dancer of Navori were. You broke the silence with a noise of disbelief. How strange, indeed.

“My grandfather thought I was best suited for a naginata, so that’s what he trained me in as a child,” you told him. “I don’t think I remember anything, though. It’s been a very long time.”

“You do,” he cut in. “No one forgets the art of the blade. Your mind may not remember, but your body does.”

“That’s very kind of you to say… Thank you,” you responded, smiling softly at him, “but what made you change your mind? I thought you had your… duty.”

“I do, but helping you can also be one of them,” he replied bluntly. “You have something you want to protect. As did I.”

You tried not to think too much about why he said it like that. It was not your place to pry, but you had always been a curious one. He must have lost something or someone along the way. For someone so stoic, he didn’t hide the regret in his tone well.

You glanced at him, deciding to end your train of thought before you slipped up and said something you regretted. “Are you sure you want nothing in return?”

“I only ask for your name.”

Heat rushed to your face. It was an incredibly mundane thing to ask for, normal for people who were getting to know each other to do. His forwardness caught you off guard, made you lose your balance for a moment. You cleared your throat and gave him your name, which he repeated quietly to himself.

He nodded at you. “My name is Yone.”

Yone grabbed a bamboo stick (where did he even get that from?) and tossed it your way, visibly pleased when you managed to catch it with ease.

“Well, then, let us begin.”

—

You developed a new routine since you started training with Yone.

In the morning, you took care of the temple, which you said was ‘good as new.’ In the afternoon, you helped the apothecary with preparing medicine. In the evening, when everyone went home, you trained by the riverside with Yone. Then, at night, he walked you home per your request.

For someone who was adamant that they forgot everything, you got familiar with the blades quite easily. You were a quick learner, he noticed. He didn’t understand why you thought so lowly of yourself. He didn’t understand how your family could hate someone like you. From first glance, he knew that you were kind. Stubborn, but a great listener. Thoughtful, quick-witted, and gentle even with those who didn’t treat you the same way.

It had taken a while, but you started to be more confident in yourself as well. You hesitated less. He could see you rising up the ranks in the dojo quickly; you just needed encouragement and practice. It didn’t make sense to him why your father was dead set on restricting you from everything.

No matter, Yone thought. His heart swelled with pride every time he saw you. You didn’t even seem to realise that you were nothing like your family said you were. As much as he wanted you to know that, he wasn’t good with words. On top of his unfamiliarity with comfort or praise, he also didn’t know where his relationship with you stood. You weren’t friends, you weren’t strangers, but you weren’t distant like acquaintances would be. Regardless, he didn’t want to overstep. All he could do was hope that you’d understand him.

Steel clashed against each other as you parried his attacks. Something was different, like you weren’t completely there. He was proven right when he managed to pin you down to the floor, the edge of his sword hovering only a breath away from your neck.

“You faltered,” he said more as a statement than a question. “You can not hesitate in a fight.”

You averted your gaze from his intense stare. Were you afraid of him?

“I’m sorry.”

“We should stop for today.” He smoothly rose to his feet and offered you a hand, helping you up. “Is something wrong? You seem distracted.”

“The festival is tomorrow,” you murmured. “But I’ll be alright.”

“You don’t wish to participate in it,” he finished for you.

You gave him a strained smile. “I can’t. I just… can’t.”

Abruptly, you pulled your hand away from his and squeaked out an apology. He hadn’t noticed they were still joined together, but there was a strange feeling pulling at his chest when you let go. Still, he didn’t say anything, choosing to let the conversation end there. He knew what it was like to lose someone. Rebirth might have changed him, melded him into stone, but some things could break through and get to him.

(He hadn’t known it then, but you were one of them.)

“I’ll… see you tomorrow, then,” you said hesitantly. “I should go back.”

He nodded. “I understand. Get home safe.”

You looked as though you wanted to say something else, lips parted and eyes curious, but you didn’t. Instead, you smiled at him—softer this time, less strained—and left without a word. As you faded into the distance, Yone sighed quietly and sat down on the grass, his swords laid next to him. He didn’t want to take you away from your other responsibilities; he knew fully well that you were quite dutiful as he was. He’d gotten so used to spending evenings with you, training and listening to you talk about whatever was on your mind that your absence felt off.

Though you were sure that you weren’t going to join in the festivities tomorrow, you most likely had to help out somehow. From what you told him about your family, he doubted that they’d leave you alone as well, taking the chance of reuniting with loved ones to look down on you. His lips tugged into a frown. Feelings weren’t exactly his strong suit since his new life began, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t understand how you would feel.

The breeze caressed his skin, taking him in its cold embrace. The drop in temperature didn’t bother him. It never had, really. He was more than used to how inconsistent the Ionian climate could get. So what was this weariness and uneasiness clouding his mind? Lingering somewhere between life and death, feelings were the least of his concerns, but he didn’t like what it was doing to him as he thought about you.

He stared at the moon’s reflection in the river. It did the same thing not long ago when you sat together and talked to him about your fondest memories. It was the first time you were so open with him. He listened to your stories, your laughter and the bittersweet tinge in your voice.

He saw a spirit walking hand-in-hand with another person somewhere not too far from where he was. A festival meant for reuniting with their loved ones, the only chance spirits and humans got to see each other again. He didn’t have anyone to visit—even if he did, he doubted he could bring himself to face someone he had failed years ago.

His thoughts wandered back to you and what you told him about your grandparents. It was a relief to find out that they never changed even after the war, having stayed the same loving people until their end. A thought popped into his head. If he could just find them—no, he could.

He knew their names. He knew them.

He wasn’t a magic user, but he was confident in his ability to search. Reinvigorated, he grabbed his swords and got up. Pondering under the stars would have to wait, he had a mission to do.

The only advantage to being something he was, Yone thought, was that fatigue was never an issue. He traversed through the plains, made his way up the hill, taking every twist and turn he could think of. Not wanting to risk being seen by civilians—he wasn’t exactly unaware of how… appalling he looked—he stayed in the shadows, hiding in the darkness. After what seemed like a few hours, he finally spotted the silhouettes of your grandparents, distant but familiar.

“Yone? Is that you?” your grandfather said in disbelief, his tone still full of the same joy it had whenever he spoke to Yone and his brother. His eyes crinkled as he beamed at the younger man. “I haven’t seen you in… in years! You’ve changed!”

Your grandmother was less boisterous, though it was clear she felt happy to see him as well. Upon taking a proper look at him, her face fell, and she approached him with a concerned expression.

“It’s far too early for you to be like this,” she sighed. Yone wanted to argue that he wasn’t exactly young anymore, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. “What happened?”

“It… is a long story,” Yone replied, his voice lacking the same strength and volume it had earlier in the day. Grief was such a fickle thing. He’d feel nothing one moment and everything in the next. He didn’t mourn himself, never had nor did he ever think it was necessary, but he did regret. Regretted being unable to protect his family, regretted being unable to protect your family. The curse laid upon him gave him the chance to atone, and even then, it never eased the chains wrapped around his soul.

He shook his head, pushing the thoughts aside. “I have a favour to ask of you.”

—

Yone was acting suspiciously.

To start, when you arrived at the clearing of the forest you usually trained with him, he wasn’t there. You didn’t know how long you waited until he arrived, offhandedly apologising for his tardiness. The sky had already faded into dark shades of blue, the sun nowhere to be seen and replaced with the moon peeking over the horizon. It might have been immature of you to scold him while being as huffy as a petulant child, but he didn’t seem to mind.

The day didn’t start out well for you, to say the least. The only things spoken around town were how excited people were to see their late relatives again and how much they looked forward to spending time with them for the next three days. It wasn’t like you wanted to feel bitter about it all. You were glad on their behalf, but the feeling of being the odd one wasn’t something you could control that easily. You wanted to be able to experience the same magic and happiness the others did.

As if that wasn’t enough, a councillor—likely the same one you overheard that time—left you a letter summoning you to a meeting the same night. If you didn’t know better, you would’ve kept that in mind and made sure you arrived in time. But you knew what it was going to be about. You were already in a loveless family. A loveless marriage wouldn’t make your life better and the only one benefiting from it was your father. You didn’t exactly like being spiteful (it’s a sin, a monk would say) but there was nothing wrong with it if they deserved it, was there? You ripped the paper to shreds, threw it out somewhere you couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter as long as you got rid of it.

There were a lot of things to be angry about, like how irritating it was to still be under your father’s control as an adult, or how they all never broke their habit of speaking as though you weren’t there. It didn’t mean you liked being angry. You weren’t built for such aggression.

You shook your head. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking about this.

“You’re late.” You didn’t mean to say it as whiny as you did. Overly aware of how you sounded, you looked away from Yone and crossed your arms over your chest, ignoring whatever reaction he had to it. “I’ve been here for hours.”

“I’m sorry. I… had something to attend to,” he said. “I have something to show you. Follow me.”

Without realising it, you pouted. “And you have the nerve to boss me around…”

Yone’s silence made you begrudgingly glance at him again. He looked anxious, which was a surprise—you always saw him so calm and collected. It was… concerning. You sighed. He didn’t seem like he meant to leave you waiting for so long. Heaving out a quiet sigh, at last, you relented.

“Fine. Lead the way.”

The walk was quiet. You had a bunch of questions in your mind, both from curiosity and a bit of pettiness you had left. He deftly navigated through the woods, turning back once in a while to see if you were still following him. It was dark, almost as dark as it had been when you met him in that storm for the first time, but you weren’t as afraid anymore, either. You couldn’t describe it. Something about him felt safe. It could be that it was because he saved you from death and helped you become stronger. You didn’t think that was it, though.

You caught up to him, now walking beside him rather than behind. “Where are we going?”

He didn’t answer. You huffed. Fine.

But you couldn’t stay annoyed for long. You found your gaze drifting over to him; the curves of his mask, the clenching of his jaw. How was it possible for someone who scared you so much when you first met to also be someone who you’d trust with your life? You knew nothing about him. He was a strange person, impeccable swordsmanship aside. He never spoke about his family or his home. He was familiar with the village like he lived here before, but you’d never seen him. Just who was he?

Yone led you to a cliffside. The trek—how wasn’t he tired?—felt worth it in the end when you saw the night sky. The crescent moon smiled at you from her place among the scattered stars, sparkling and glowing brightly on what would normally be pitch black. A hand was placed on the small of your back, taking you by surprise and making your breath hitch before you relaxed. It was just him.

“I brought you a gift,” he said plainly. You narrowed your eyes at him. He didn’t look like he was one for gifts, but who were you to decline? It must be a reward or something, or an apology because you were left for hours—

Someone called your name. A familiar voice, one you hadn’t heard in years. You must be imagining it. They were dead, there was no way it could be. Were you so tired that you were imagining things?

“They’ve been waiting for you.” Yone gently pushed you forward. “Go.”

Sceptical as you were, once again, you relented.

The figures were clearer the closer you approached. You recognised the clothes, the voices—was this a prank? Would someone like Yone play such a cruel joke?

“You’ve grown so much,” came the voice of your grandmother, laced with a tenderness you’d recognise from anywhere.

“How…” you trailed off. Your grandparents stood in front of you, happiness radiating off of them in waves as they walked your way. You didn’t know what to think, what to feel. Weren’t they supposed to be dead? Were you hallucinating? “I don’t understand…”

“It’s us, kiddo.” Your grandfather placed a hand on your head, ruffling your hair affectionately. It was cold, but it felt real, too real. “We came to see you.”

You fell apart. Tears sprung to your eyes as you fell into their arms, broken sentences and wailing leaving you at its will. It was real. You didn’t understand it. You weren’t supposed to be able to see them, to see spirits—you didn’t have that gift, your father always made sure you knew that. So how was this possible? How could you see them, touch them, feel them?

“We tried to come find you every year,” your grandmother spoke, her voice as soft as a whisper. “But we—we couldn’t come in. The estate, it’s… locked away from us.”

“You left me,” you snivelled, “you left me here—you…”

You didn’t know what you were saying anymore. Giving up on trying to voice your thoughts, you kept crying until you grew weary, the devastated weeping gradually dissolving into shaky breaths. You felt her hand on the top of your head, lovingly smoothing down your hair as she hummed the tune she always sang to you when you were young. Your grandfather leaned down to press a kiss to your temple, chuckling under his breath—they were as overjoyed as you were.

“We can’t stay for long,” he murmured. “But we really wanted to see you. That young man helped us. Quite the man you’ve found, hm?”

“He’s just a friend,” you grumbled. As cross as you were with him earlier, you were thankful that he’d done this for you. There were many unanswered questions you had lingering in the back of your mind, but those weren’t that important anymore, you thought. Finally pulling away, you smiled for the first time that night. “I missed you.”

“We missed you too, sweetheart.” Your grandmother returned the gesture, brushing your stray tears away with her thumbs. “Why don’t you come sit with us, tell us what you’ve been up to?”

As you followed them, you turned to look back at Yone, mouthing ‘thank you’ with another smile. He nodded. You learned to pick up on his cues in the past month you spent with him, so you knew what he meant. You’re welcome. He wasn’t the best with words, preferring to let his actions speak for themselves. You wondered if he knew how important this was, how you’d always remember his kindness.

Lost in conversation with your loved ones, you missed how Yone’s stern expression melted into fondness as he watched the scene, the corners of his lips curling up just the slightest. It was the happiest he’d ever seen you.

(And it was the moment he knew—he’d do whatever it took to protect your smile.)

—

Existing somewhere in a plane between life and death, Yone spent his days on autopilot with only one goal in mind. Cursed for as long as his afterlife would last by the azakana, he’d continue to hunt them down one by one until there was nothing left. He saw his ‘life’ differently, ‘felt’ differently.

Bound to the world of the living, denied the peace of death, as he used to say. Time was no longer so important to him now that he became what he was. It passed as it willed, and he would only follow until it was over—assuming it would ever be. Yone didn’t care—or rather, he just tried not to think—about the state of life, the meaning of his existence. If he was bound to duty, at least he’d try to accomplish this one, unlike what he failed in his youth.

He should have left Ionia when he killed the last azakana in that temple. But more and more showed up every day, dangerously close to where you lived, and he knew that they would come find you again eventually. Deciding to take your request wasn’t an impulsive decision. He found your determination admirable even with the chains that held you back. It reminded him of who he had been. Who he craved to be once again. He tried to keep himself distant, staying within the boundary of just a kind stranger, but before he knew it, he found himself feeling tethered to you.

You weren’t just someone he saved. You were someone he had grown increasingly fond of. Yone knew you were kind, that you had a lot of love to give even to those who didn’t deserve it. He believed in his ability to predict what would happen, to adapt to sudden changes, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the whirlwind that was you.

For the first time in years, he felt alive, and it was all because of you. Your smile, your voice, the way you’d playfully talked back to him, the way you were always concerned for him. That much still held true as he sat beside you on a hill, his gaze focused on you over the sunrise you meant to show him.

He didn’t expect you to invite him to something that could be seen as so intimate. He didn’t expect himself to agree without a second thought either. He prided himself on being someone who always thought before he did anything, but something about you had him caving into his whims more frequently. He’d find that irritating if he was the same young man he used to be, but he didn’t. If he was bold enough, maybe he’d go as far as to admit that he liked how you made him feel.

It seemed his gift for you had changed you overnight. You weren’t mad at him anymore; if anything, you seemed to be more gentle with him. Like you saw him differently. He didn’t want to assume you did—that would be unfair to you.

This was what made it difficult for him to leave.

He couldn’t stay here for long. Fate would guide him to other places, more obscure and dangerous, and as much as he felt like he overstayed his welcome with you, he didn’t want to go. He didn’t know if he’d get the chance to see you again, to talk to you again. Getting attached to what could be temporary wasn’t a smart idea—he knew that. But for once, he wanted to let himself live again.

Seeing your face fall when he told you about his imminent departure was, perhaps, the worst he ever felt. He lived through countless battles; the scars on his hands proved that. He didn’t lose his senses even with his state of being a ‘ghost’ of sorts. He still felt the sting of a cut, the aches in his muscles after exerting himself. Emotions, on the other hand, were more complicated. Growing up with his brother, he had to be stern, calm and confident. He had to be assertive. He had to be strong.

With you, he could let all of that go. He wouldn’t lose his habits, he didn’t want to, but with you, he could let his guard down.

“Yone?” you broke the silence. He blinked, suddenly overly aware that he had been staring at you like a fool in love. Maybe he was. “Are you alright?”

“I am. I’m sorry for worrying you,” he responded. “I was only… thinking of the future.”

“You’re leaving soon, aren’t you?”

“I am.”

You went silent. He frowned, wondering if he should’ve kept it a secret after all. He didn’t want to hurt you. He never did.

“Well, if you decide to come back here one day,” you said, reaching for his hand. Your skin felt warm against his own. “Just know that I’ll be here waiting for you.”

Yone felt like time and the world stopped for him.

“I know I’m a lot to handle.” He didn’t think you were. Still, he didn’t interrupt, letting you speak your mind. “And I know this is just some favour, but you know… I’ve grown pretty fond of you. I’d be sad if you left without telling me.”

Your tone was lighthearted, playing off your words as if they were only a joke in case he didn’t feel the same. He felt warm—the warmest he’d ever been—and he was never one to be timid, but you always managed to bring that out of him with ease.

Yone said your name. You hummed, urging him to continue.

“You should be proud of yourself,” he said. The words felt unfamiliar to him, foreign, but he needed you to know. “Like I am of you.”

You smiled. He wanted to engrave this sight into his memory, make it something he would never forget. You teasingly nudged him with your elbow, giggles leaving your throat as you replied without missing a beat, “So you’ve grown fond of me too, huh?”

This was the most casual you had ever been with him. It was a nice change, he thought, one that he really liked. In a matter of a few weeks, you’d gone from a meek, terrified person into someone confident and much happier than you were when he first met you.

“I have, indeed,” he replied. Perhaps more than I should.

With another chuckle, you fell back into a silence that was tranquil this time, more comfortable. He wondered if it was obvious that he was staring at you—he was trying not to be, but he was always told his gaze was intense. It didn’t seem to be an issue with you. Sighing in contentment, he let his eyes wander back to the sunrise before him. The last day of the Spirit Blossom was fast approaching, which meant that you’d once again find yourself in a busy schedule. But he didn’t have to think about that, so he stopped. Instead, he let himself indulge in this rare moment with you, thinking of nothing but how much things have changed. How much he has changed.

You never let go of his hand. Neither did he.

—

“Will you be going back too? To the spirit world?”

He did say he would be leaving, after all. You weren’t really sure what you’d do if he left. His presence had become something you were accustomed to. Since the moment he found you again in the forest, your routine seemed to have more and more of him. It would feel odd, having something you were so used to just disappear so suddenly. You knew you’d get over it, but you didn’t want to.

“I’ll be staying in the human world,” he said, “only elsewhere.”

A selfish part of you wanted him to stay. You liked having him around. With him, you could forget all about the people who shunned you. Your initial lack of strength or inability to use magic never bothered him; he saw you for who you were, treated you like any person should be treated. You weren’t lying when you told him that you’ve grown fond of him—you truly did.

No, you didn’t want him to leave. But he had to;

“I see,” you whispered. “I guess this is goodbye, then.”

The longer he took to reply, the more anxious you became. The familiar stinging of your nose and the watering of your eyes had you trying to hide your face from him. You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry. A quiet whimper was all you let slip before you held back the onslaught of tears. You didn’t want him to think you were strange. Someone who got more attached to him than they should’ve. Someone lonely, desperate for company.

“Would you like to join me?”

Even with his mask on, you could still feel Yone’s gaze on you.

“What?” you echoed dumbly. You must’ve misheard him. You could’ve sworn you just saw his lips twitch like he was amused by something. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve said before that the only thing stopping you from leaving was your fear,” he continued. “You’ve become stronger. You fight well, by yourself and by my side. We might also be able to find your mother if we travel together. And, I…”

He trailed off, seemingly to collect his thoughts before he added, quieter, “I enjoy being with you.”

Flustered, you couldn’t say a word. It took a while before you could properly process what he said.

“You mean…”

“Yes. I’d like you to come with me.” He cleared his throat, hesitating as if he was nervous. “You can decline if you’d—”

Yone was cut off by you tackling him into a hug, nearly sending him falling backwards had he been unable to keep his balance. You buried your face in his neck, smiling against his skin before you pulled away to properly look at him. Seeing how close you were made your eyes widened, and you were about to pull away before he leaned down to kiss you softly, which you melted into with ease.

Hesitantly, he pulled away. You could’ve sworn he was blushing. “I assume that’s a yes…?”

“You already know what I meant, Yone.” You grinned, unable to resist the urge to tease him. “You just want me to say it.”

“Well, it… would confirm my thoughts.”

“Of course, it’s a yes!”

“I must warn you it won’t be easy,” he hesitated, giving you another chance to say no. Like he couldn’t believe that you wanted to join him. “So if you don’t want to come, you don’t have to… Why are you laughing?”

“I mean it, you old fool,” you teased.

“Old fool—”

“I would love to come with you.” You curled into his side, laying your head on his shoulder as you watched the river flow in front of you. “I’m not scared anymore. I have you.”

Yone pulled you closer, leaving a ghost of a kiss on the crown of your head. “And I have you.”

It felt like something straight out of a fairytale. You were going to leave this wicked place with someone you fell in love with. You couldn’t believe it was happening, but it was, and your heart raced, not out of fear but out of excitement.

You couldn’t wait for the adventures you’d have together.

#I had default Yone in mind writing this bc I like that design better so I'm sorry if that broke the immersion </3 #all #yone x reader #lol yone x reader #league of legends x reader #lol x reader

[justlarkin]

Mentioning some events that I liked in the midst of beefing with LWs' writers. It's mostly due to very specific things that occur in the events rather than the events themselves to be completely honest with you.

-Casual and fun beach event. Can't go wrong there. Good moments envolving most of the characters. Nomad, Azazel, Kengo, and Oniwaka in particular for me. They deprived me of Azazel content, so this is my only morsel to latch onto. Plus we got SQ Galore, including ones for Mononobe and Lil Salomon.

-The softcore discussion of gender dysphoria was a pleasant surprise and I liked the parallels drawn between MC and Astarte as "trophies". In particular, I liked how this event revealed how much the other guys actually love MC. They were completely indifferent towards Astarte while she was the beloved, which was super weird to her, and when MC switched places with her, they immediately clocked that something was off, but not because they could visually tell MC was obviously not Astarte. They just thought Astarte was more radiant than usual. They were all over MC and giving away their shells because they're MC, not because they were the beloved.

-That scene where Heracles falls into Narcissus' Pond and he comes to the realization that his narcissism and cowardness was what led to Hylas' fate. He thought that a hero of his caliber was too precious to even risk being lost to the naiads, especially not for a guy who was practically beneath him. Heracles put himself before the life of his friend who was willing follow him to hell and back, abandoning him, and he regrets it. The parallels to Hylas' abduction with Heracles' fall as well as dialouge and narration as MC dives after him are an absolute banger. "I knew. I knew you'd come. Not by another's comand but your own free will. Your radiance makes me want to weep. Before you, the thought of the man who failed to follow Hylas makes me want to cry." MC took the leap Heracles never did for Hylas, making them a better person than himself. Such a great moment. Absolutely adored it.

-First of all, exile reveal. Second of all, the reveal that Shiro's crush is more of an all-consuming OBSESSION. Always thinking of them. Always following them whatever path they decide to take. Knowing that they relied on him was his greatest source of happiness. He wanted to help them, to shoulder any and all of their burdens in the hopes that they would eventually feel the same way as him. Shiro was desperately striving for an insane, unhealthy co-dependent relationship where MC validates him by constantly needing him to help them and it's just ?!?!? This came way out of left field.

-Algernon. Algernon. Algernon. I absolutely loved it when he randomly got jealous and tried to change the topic when MC called Yamasachihiko hot. I love that he found someone who could keep up with him, an equal, in MC. I loved that they did a little tapdance routine together while killing the slimes. Oh. And Hombre Tigre. I'm not really a big fan of him. I just really like how interesting his dynamic with Quetzalcoatl is compared to everyone else. Hombre adoring Tezcatlipoca so much that he couldn't even begin to grasp why Quetzalcoatl would leave him behind and envying him for being the one who could consume Tezcatlipoca's thoughts and breaking him in such a manner.

-Sherlock Nomad and Assistant MC, the event we had all been waiting on. Anyways, y'all should know why I liked this event. It's that one scene where they beat Hermes' and he's just sitting on the floor like a pouty little kid when MC grabs his hand and he continues his little tantrum by telling them to let go while doing nothing to stop them. Hermes finally found a friend who could look past all of his lies and accept him with MC and I'm very happy for the bastard.

-That whole chase scene where Balor reveals that he's actually been a twat this entire time and he goes after MC, trying to capture them, is mwah. Love it. Also when Boogeyman triggered that ratfuck, Balor's, PTSD with his sacred artifact just the reveal that Lugh never had a choice in the matter and that Balor caused this fate to be forced upon him, something that he feared for himself in the first place. And the reveal that Balor didn't exactly regret killing his grandson. It was just the fact that Lugh didn't choose to fight him himself.

-The way Vapula was completely indifferent to his golemns until the very end where they're all silently gazing out into the sea after Sand Dragon self-deleted while following orders and are clearly fucked up about what they just witnessed, truly understanding how morbid Sand Dragon's existence was and the inevitability of his death, when MC turns to Vapula and says "Vapula.... We never got to name him" and Vapula just starts BAWLING.

-Oh look. A well executed plot twist. Loved the way that they conveyed Horus and Seth's true bond through how compatible and fluidly their memories were able to work together to fight against the group. Then there's the use of Seth's old memories to reveal that Horus had been on his side the entire time and that he was even the one who let him flee Duat. Also, an expansion on what seemed to be such a simple rule. Being able to control the sand being way more powerful than expected through a technicality.

-This one might actually be my favorite event. No. Not because it's a Fuxi or bird event. Shut your slut mouth. Banger music, great story, great picks for the characters and the dynamics, an exile reveal. Fuxi being so unhinged that he tries to fight literal children and Simurgh playing the straight man to his funny man will always be funny. Also, there was just that one moment where MC went "pull the trigger pussy" while Simurgh held a gun to their head and that's so based of them. Mostly dissapointed we didn't get more Nüwa lore.

#shut up lark

[boringbxtch]

Vincent Sinclair x reader

You decided since Vincent was busy with his artistic vision or so he made it seem and Bo was god knows where, probably messing about in the garage that you would go for a walk in the woods. About to walk out the door and doubling back at the last second by deciding you would take Jonesy just incase so you’re not entirely alone.

Walking down the street to cut out somewhere that technically wasn’t a path but ended up being used as one you reach the tree line with your companion trotting excitedly around you, tongue hanging out of their mouth. With no specific direction in mind you wander further in without looking back which if you had done you would’ve seen a group of 4 people walking up the turn towards Ambrose but like I said you went on none the wiser.

Meanwhile the people coming out of the car were exhausted due to traveling all day and the mini trek as they managed to run entirely out of petrol though Jordan maintained that before they left the last town they stopped at that he filled it up fully so they should’ve had no issue passing straight through the place. Of course no one believed him.

Bo was prepared for the group to appear in the garage slipping into the role of concerned mechanic while making sure to keep the bolts that he stole from the car hidden. Same act every time so it goes without a hitch until one of the group manages to slip out of Bo’s grasp while Vincent deals with the others, heading all to predictably to the trees.

There’s a giant splash making you back pedal around sure that you were alone, it’s jonesy of course it is you should’ve known to not be so paranoid in the middle of nowhere when the most dangerous thing around is your found family and your love Vinny. Your artist who right now is dragging his new project down to the basement.

In your day dreaming you didn’t hear the crunching twigs or the heavy breathing heading straight your way so it came as a shock when you felt someone crash into you taking you down to the ground. Realising the trouble you could be in you started to panic just as the twins appeared.

Having thought you were innocent she attempted to drag you with her, because of course you could never be with these horrible men and she couldn’t leave you to that fate her friends had gotten. You weren’t willing to go anywhere but you were getting dragged against your will while she was screaming at you. You saw the dangerous glint in Vincent’s eye and wanted nothing more than to run to him. The woman having realised she had been surrounded stopped and surveyed her whereabouts, Bo was to the left and Vincent was to the right and threats were being thrown. You saw the moment when she realised that you weren’t a victim but a part of this fucked up town. Taking her only chance left she grabbed you quickly and pulled out a sharp tool ( one picked up from the garage) jabbing it into your throat and pleading for a bargain. If she is let go you’ll live but if not your blood is on their hands.

You saw the anger in both twins even your mostly calm man. Feeling the sharp spike press deeper into the thin skin of your neck you feel the breath rattle in your throat and the shaking of your limbs. This was a woman willing to risk it all to save her own skin. Grudgingly agreeing out of sheer annoyance for the girl in danger, the pain was dulled with the removal of the weapon before you were thrown forward onto the dirt and abandoned by your attempted saviour turned attempted murderer. Bo without hesitation brought the gun out he was carrying and fired 2 shots straight into her head. Dead on impact while you were safe again in your loves arms being lifted off the ground ( I don’t care what size you are, that man has proved he’s big and strong he’s got you 😉) pressing a kiss to the waxy cheek you knew you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#vincent sinclair #Vincent Sinclair x reader #Vincent Sinclair imagine #house of wax #house of wax x reader #house of wax imagine #slasher imagine #slasher x reader

[nikkichama]

Naruto Fic Rec

Fic that I read more than once,twice, thrice or more.

HashiMada:

Sugar on your lips (I'm addicted) by chidoried E Canon divergent/Founder's era/Fix-it/Hashirama is whipped Bottom Madara/One Shot Madara placed the sweet dango between his lips, not biting into it, just holding it between his lips and teeth, looking at Hashirama expectantly. The Senju swallowed thickly, leaning in and taking a bite, their lips brushing momentarily and causing a spark to run through his body. In which Madara has a sweet tooth and loves eating dangos and Hashirama might be a little too in love.

Alkahest by misbehavingvigilante M Canon Divergence/Angst with Happy Ending/Sibling Love/Izuna Lives/ TobiIzu/One Shot In which, Madara doesn't refuse Hashirama's offer after all and Izuna lives because of it.

Lost & Found series by Makkoska E and M Modern Setting/Past Drug Use/Past Alcohol Abuse/Self-harm tendencies/Social Anxiety/Smoking/Coming Out/Divorced Parents/Past Hashirama x Mito Madara starts a new life in a quiet little village with the help of an old flame

Breathless by PaddyChan E ♥♥♥♥♥ Founders Era/Canon Divergence/Slow Burn/Protective Hashirama/Izuna Lives/ 63 chapters Forced to abandon their friendship due to the endless war raging between Senju and Uchiha, Hashirama and Madara are now facing each other on the battlefield as leaders of their clans. In one reality Madara has to mourn his last remaining brother, before being ultimately defeated by the Senju leader and losing the trust of his people. In another one, the odds are even worse. However, when Madara faints on the battlefield, Hashirama finds himself unable to kill the man he once considered his best friend. With Madara on the verge of dying, Hashirama decides to take matters into his own hands. And maybe, a single change is enough to steer fate into a different direction.

Adore by midnightfeast T Modern Setting/Pre-Relationship/One Shot “I don’t even know about your first kiss. How have I never asked you this before? Was she pretty?” Oh, he had asked countless of times, but Madara had been skilled enough to deceive his efforts.  For some reason, tonight was different. Tonight, Hashirama would not let him get away with deception. Maybe it was the alcohol, probably the raw emotions of a hurting and bleeding breakup that had Hashirama turn onto all-fours and crawl towards Madara with piercing eyes and under that intense gaze, Madara heart started to race. “Or was it a man? You know I don’t care.” Or: Closing in on thirty, Madara is convinced that he'll live the rest of his life as an unkissed virgin, because there is only one person he wants. After another break-up, Hashirama finds himself on Madara's carpet, drunk and curious.

Out of Time by Mari_Kel M ♥♥♥ (WIP) 57 Chapters Time Travel/Genin Era/Team Yamato-Freeform/Fluff and Angst/Friends to Lovers/Uchiha Madara-centric/Senju Hashirama-centric/Canon Divergence/PTSD/Team as Family/Found Family/Not Canon Compliant/Mental Health Issues Sarutobi Hiruzen was a smart man. He was the third Hokage of the Hidden Leaf, star pupil of Senju Tobirama, hailed as the second God of Shinobi, and master of ten thousand jutsu. But, as he stares down at the result of the latest botched space-time jutsu, one taken from the Nidaime’s Forbidden Archive and modified by Hiruzen himself, he wonders how smart he really is to have something backfire this badly. Because there is a tiny, angry, twelve-year-old Uchiha Madara with only one-tomoe sharingan, yelling and brandishing a kunai at him. And clinging to Madara’s arm is an equally tiny Senju Hashirama, shaking and alarmingly pale. Hiruzen closes his eyes and sighs. Truly a smart man. OR: The one where Yamato gets his own rather unique genin team comprised of a ghost, a god, and an assassin, and the timeline will never be the same.

TobiIzu:

Keep You by midnightfeast E ♥♥♥ Modern Setting/Friends with Benefits To Lovers/Smut/One Shot Unfortunate really, that Tobirama just had to go and be sweet and kind to Izuna’s cat, because then Izuna had to develop feelings for the man that was meant to be nothing more than his booty call. (I saw a reddit post or tumblr post similar to this ages ago and couldn't stop thinking about it, so I had to write a story for it. Unfortunately, I can't link the source of inspiration, because I can't find it. If you see it, please tell me.)

Don't leave me hanging by AlismaeGullran G There was only one bed/Getting Together/Pining/Canon Divergence There was only one bed, which makes room for confessions.

My rival, My friend by AlismaeGullran T/G Series 7 Work ♥♥♥ Founders Era/Fluff/Sick Fic/Past Child Abuse/Mention of Child Abuse/Hurt-Comfort/Angst with Happy Ending This is my collection of TobiIzu stories. These are all set in the same AU.

Seducing Tobirama by Phlebas T/M/E Series 6 Work Pre-Slash/Warring States Period/Mutual Pining/Uchiha Izuna Lives/Discussion of Canonical Child Death/Smut/Bottom Izuna Seducing Tobirama is harder than Izuna thought it would be. Loosely linked short fics in the same AU, all of which are inspired by the art of Junsui

A Soft Green Glow by Sharkseye M 47 ♥♥♥ Altered Mental States-due to blood loss/Pre-Slash/Canon Divergence/Pre-canon Returning from an ambush that killed his entire team and near fatally wounded him, Izuna finds himself followed by an enemy far more dangerous than the ones he left behind. Even if he makes it back to Uchiha lands, he'll be killed long before help can arrive. That is, if the blood loss doesn't get him first. ~*~ The title of my notes on this is 'Tobirama Escorts Izuna Home'. That's it, that's the story. Due to popular demand, there is now a second chapter!

My Nemesis my only Friend by Eisengrave, Maelikki, selwyn E 47 chapters ♥♥♥

Warring States Period/Fix-it/Somebodylives-somebody not/Slow Build/Pining/Uchiha Izuna lives/TobiIzu centric Hashirama saved Izuna and Madara agreed to peace. Konoha is standing on its new foundation, resting on the shoulders of two giants. But where does that leave their loyal shadows? The little brothers that swore themselves to the way of war? What good are their sharp edges when the world wants to learn to be soft? Who would understand that it's not so easy to let go of living your life in ever-present readiness to fight, to kill? [despite this vague summary this is actually very much a fix-it for the Founder's era. Izuna lives. The Shinobi Wars sort of don't happen. Sort of. Everyone lives. Hashimada is canon. Couple of OCs kicking around to fill the background.]

Curious affections by taedislumina T ♥♥♥ Modern setting/Slight NSFW/One-shot "what made you fall in love with me?" in which Izuna begs a daunting question at 2AM, Tobirama opts to humour him, and both are entirely captivated with eachother.

Mission accomplished by obitoforpresident E Friends to Lovers/Alcohol/Smut/Fluff and Smut/Dubious pinching of cheeks/One-shot But seriously- how many nights was he laying wide awake on his tatami mat because he was dreaming of the white-haired Senju? He dreamt of holding his strong hands in his, of being in his arms, cuddling and most importantly - kissing. It were too many years of suppressed feelings, but Izuna didn't have the guts to say something to the other man.

Masks I wear by Kamaleen E 3 chapters Alternative Universe- Werewolf/Alpha Beta Omega/Sexual Content/Mpreg “Good afternoon,” Tobirama replied. The white-haired alpha then turned halfway, gesturing toward the manor. “It’s a pleasure to have you here.” Izuna tried to smile back at the sentence that sounded like it was forced. He knew he shouldn’t take this to heart, but he did, and it hurt.

ObiKaka

Cause we mermaid for each other by obitoforpresident E ♥♥ One-shot/Modern setting/Getting Together/Fluff and Smut/Porn with feelings/Bikers “Hi,” a deep voice rumbled directly into his ear and Kakashi leaned sideways. “Wanna get a drink back at my place?” Kakashi raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of his beer before answering. “Why should I? We’re already at a bar.” The man beside him sputtered and curiosity go the best of Kakashi. He turned his head, his gaze roaming over the broad form beside him. Messy black hair, broad shoulders clad in an Akatsuki leather jacket, and full lips were pulled into an adorable pout.

A night to remember by Anonymous E One-shot/Alpha Beta Omega/Alpa Uchiha Obito/Omega Hatake Kakashi/Dirty Talk/Camboys In which Kakashi had a one night stand and realized a week later why the guy seemed familiar.

Steal me with a kiss by strangelights E Modern Setting/Morning After/One-shot/Identity Reveal/Childhood Friends/Friends to Lovers/Idiots to Lovers KakaObi Week Day 6: Indigo | Reunited | Enemies to Lovers

Falling Stars by MareNubium E 25 chapters ♥♥♥♥♥ I read this like five times minimum and I still crying while reading it. Beautiful,masterpiece. If I read it again in the near future you would catch me still crying over it. It's chef kiss.

Modern Setting/Angst/Self-Harm/Minor Violence/Recreational Drug Use/Friends To Lovers Obito only has one goal, to graduate and then leave the god forsaken town for good. All those faces, the judgmental eyes, the laughter, the ridicule, years of pretending they don’t affect him, he’s absolutely sick of it all. He wants nothing more than to leave that miserable place controlling his every will. That is until he meets Kakashi, a boy whose world is more than meets the eye.

Turn The Page by ASchwartz33 T 3 chapters ♥♥ Canon divergence/Hatake Kakashi needs a hug/Kid Hatake Kakashi/Adoption/Found Family/Jiraiya adopts Kakashi/ Uchiha Obito Lives A gift for @AdolescentLycan for The Flying Thunder God's secret Santa exchange on discord! Jiraiya finds out that Kakashi has been left alone, and intervenes to change the course of Kakashi's life forever.

Your Scent by Primerose_Wool M One-shot/Romance/Fluff/Minor character death/Getting Together/Fluff and Angst/Canon divergence In which Kakashi loves Obito’s scent and will not stop sniffing him throughout the years.

The world, through your eyes by kyasuu 5 chapters (WIP)♥♥ Hurt-Comfort/Dimensional Travel/Unhealthy Coping Mechanism/Unhealthy Relationships/PTSD/Implied-Referenced Suicide/Suicidal Ideation In one world, Uchiha Obito died saving Hatake Kakashi during the Kannabi Bridge mission, and came back as a vengeful specter decades later. In another, he was a second too slow. In both worlds, Team Minato came home one crucial member short. Kakashi finds himself in another world where his team is alive, Konoha remains undestroyed, and the shinobi world approaches tentative peace with Minato spearheading the effort as the Yondaime Hokage. It's in that moment that he knows for certain: it should've been him under that boulder. But no world is perfect. Kakashi might think this is as close as it gets, but, assuming this is reality and not the Infinite Tsukuyomi, there's always a catch. And he's right. (Or: Kakashi loses to Obito during their fight in the Kamui dimension. He wakes up in a world that's too perfect to be his own.)

The red means i love you by khalas E ♥♥ All work of Khalas is a masterpiece! Angels&Demons AU/One-shot/Fallen!Angel Kakashi/Serial Killer!Obito/The lines between worship and obsession are blurred/Dark/Obito victim's are implied to be human sacrifices “Tobi,” the man’s voice breaks as he struggles to speak through a mouthful of blood and loose teeth. “You’re Tobi.” Tobi. His daughter’s imaginary friend. Not quite imaginary, no, not with those leather-clad fingers forcing the man’s jaws apart to see blood spill from the gashes in his cheeks. 

I sent her back to her boyfriend with my handprint on her cheeks by khalas E ♥♥♥♥♥♥ (WIP) I fucking love this!Like I already reread this a dozen times. College/University AU/Slow Burn/Mentions of harrasment/Friends to Lovers/Size Difference/Possesive!Obito Years ago, if anyone had asked Obito to describe a typical Friday night, he'd have spent hours talking about the time he'd gotten into a fistfight with the school's mascot over the last gas station sushi roll. Now, stuck at home because he'd promised to babysit Kakashi's pet fish, he realizes — He's fucking whipped.

House of cards by khalas E ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ 11 chapters The first fic I read from khalas and I was sold. Like when I finished I needed to reread again. Fuck it's dark and amazing,and of course made me cry, but like OMG. Screaming and kicking my legs :D Modern Setting/Detective!Obito/Detective!Kakashi/Gang!Akatsuki/Violence/Possessive!Obito/Rough Sex/Each chapter comes with it's own tw Dark like dark dark. The house always wins.

pacifist by khalas E (WIP) ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ This is part 2 of House of Cards sadly it's only 1 chapter and work in progress. Looks like nobody know what happened/how are khalas so I just hope they're okay.

pork soda by khalas E ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ 10 chapters I'm not saying anything new, it's khalas it's amazing. I love it, reread it like a hundred times. Chef kiss! Modern Setting/Doctor!Kakashi/Street fighter!Obito/Self destructive behavior/Lots of violence Obito’s memories are fading, day by day. Yet, the one person he wants to forget seems to be the only thing he can remember anymore.

hot sugar by khalas E ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ 6 chapters Am I going to put in all of khalas fic? Maybe, cause all of them are awesome. College/University AU/Modern setting/TA!Kakashi/Athlete!Obito/Possessive!Obito Five times Obito embarrasses himself in front of his TA, and the one time he doesn’t.

ShikaNeji:

Shadows Dancing in the Moonlight by -catalyst (xo_thefirst) G/T series 3 work Canon Divergence/Post-war/Slice of Life/Fluff/Getting Together this is where i'll be collecting all my shikaneji works :)

Liquid Copper by saturnsmoontitan T 2 chapters Emotional Hurt,Comfort/Implied-Referenced Sexual Harassment/Set during the time skip Shikamaru wasn't entirely sure how the five of them got onto the topic of Neji's missions, but it sure sobered him up quick. or Shikamaru coming to terms with how he feels about Neji after the freshly promoted Jounin comes home and talks about some... incidents during his mission.

Ripple Series by KamiKo T/M series 3 work Slow Burn/ Protective Uchiha Sasuke/ Hurt-Comfort/Friends to Lovers/Falling in Love/Anbu Hyuuga Neji/Implied-referenced Rape-noncon/Homophobic Languages/Explicit Sexual Content/Canon Adjacent The progression between Shikamaru and Neji was persistent, but leisurely and yet still somehow they had missed the turning point. //A three-part ShikaNeji series//

The Way Thing Are by Aini M 32 chapters Written in 2008 Neji's forced to take Hinata's spot in an arranged marriage after his cousin runs away. How does the Hyuuga deal with the problem?

The Box by LaughingFreak G One-shot/Family/Father-Son Relationship/Loss Its spring cleaning and while Shikadai is forced to help he finds out more about his dad than he thought he would.

A Downward Spiral by daniwritesattimes E 85 chapters Friends with Benefits/Implied-referenced child abuse/Depression/Oral Sex/Sex/Smut “You feel like kissing yet?” Neji froze at the question. He felt a burn in his face as he looked to Shikamaru questioningly. “You know? Because of the lovey get-up?” The Nara was poking fun at the slow ride of the deemed cave of love. Neji sank a bit further in his seat. The boy had too much control over him. The fun part was that Shikamaru had no idea.

A Preference by daniwritesattimes M 21 chapters So, say Shikamaru and Temari’s marriage was failing and Shikamaru met a very nice man at the market. Yeah...

SasuSaku

Pretty Little Things by LilAnnieSunshine T Romance/Love/One-shot/Canon divergence "Let her go.” Sasuke said, fighting off the pain of his broken wrist as he stood up shakily. Sakura couldn’t be more than twenty feet away from him, but he knew Itachi could end her before he even took a step. She might as well be thousands of miles away for the good he could do her. “She doesn’t have anything to do with this.” What if Sakura had come across Sasuke's fight with Itachi the day Itachi returned to the village?

of flirting and domesticity by chidoririi G One-shot/Married Life/Newly Weds/Snippet/Fluff/Headcanon Sakura's hair has gotten long and Sasuke finds out that he doesn’t like it.

The Exit Wound by LilAnnieSunshine T Domestic Fluff/Fluff and Angst/Canon Backstory/Protective Uchiha Sasuke "His girlfriend’s skin is practically flawless compared to most ninja. He knows it’s not a reflection on how challenging her battles are. She’s a medical ninja, so she’s usually treating others, not fighting. She’s also an expert at healing her own wounds, so scars aren’t usually an issue. Furthermore, when she does see combat, she can beat just about any enemy without lifting a finger. Whoever did this was not only a skilled ninja, but had a medical background as well. " Sasuke sees Sakura's scar from her battle with Sasori for the first time. He also learns that she was the one who killed the Akatsuki member, not Naruto or Kakashi. He's in awe of his wife. Written for Day 13 of SasuSaku Month. Prompt: "Battle Scars." Written late because time means nothing.

TobiMada:

War In Times of Peace by raendown E 42 chapters Arranged Marriage/Slow Burn/Bottom Madara/Uchiha Izuna Lives Not all wars are fought on the battlefield. Some are fought at the conference table, with whispers in the shadows, or even in the bedroom. In a world where the Senju and Uchiha traditional lands were too far apart to have ever made them enemies, Butsuma and Tajima are the ones who come together and sign a treaty of peace. Madara isn't happy to have his life signed away for him in a political marriage to strengthen the bond between their clans. He is even less happy to have Tobirama make assumptions of him from their very first night together. What follows from there is a journey of healing, of learning, and finding the places to belong in the places least expected.

To plead with Time by midnightfeast T/E series 2 works Family/Grief-mourning/Fluff/Modern Setting/Bottom Madara “Oh, you can also relay my admiration. His insults certainly are creative, some may call it a touch of genius.” He turned a page in his still open file and pulled out a lined paper with finely written phrases that he slid to Madara. “I collected his… most accomplished concoctions.” Or: Madara is called to a teacher-parent talk about Izuna's open aggression towards his new chemistry teacher Tobirama Senju

Amaranthine by Blackberreh M (WIP) 9 chapters Time travel/Fix-it/Panic Attacks Everything about Madara just felt... different. Something had happened, and Tobirama was going to find out what. Madara was being kind to him. That just wouldn't stand. But then again, Tobirama's always been able to adapt well to change.

Gave you my heart by aurora_nuova M Modern Setting/One-shot/Fluff At last, the door opened after his fourth, very annoyed attempt. “Hashirama! Who lets their supposed best friend wait this long outside in those freezing temp—“ He startled and threw the sleepily scrunched up, very pale face which greeted him a thoroughly confused look. “You’re not Hashirama.” “Clearly,” the albino yawned out in amusement as he leaned against the half open door, only to squint at the lights outside on the porch with a scowl. If Madara weren’t in such distress, he might’ve found it cute even.

This is all I can think of now ♥

#naruto #hashimada #tobimada #sasusaku #obikaka #shikaneji #tobiizu #fic rec #naruto fic #hashimada fic #obikaka fic #tobiizu fic #shikaneji fic #tobimada fic #sasusaku fic

[caspercryptid]

Bladeweave anon here with the request: Wyll protecting Gale from some attack or another (like maybe by a goblin or something!)

Here we go! Wyll requests still open, get it while it's hot, sorry they don't make out in this one but Gale's POV was really fun to write (I think I'm getting better at this!)

____

There were certain benefits that came with being Mystra’s chosen that, once gone, Gale missed rather dearly.

The most primary of which, if he had to rank them in any particular order, which he sometimes did late at night when he couldn’t sleep and could feel the orb in his chest pulsing like a second heart, would be, well. Well.

He missed being harder to kill.

He is hyper-aware at all times of his rather fragile grasp on the mortal coil, his doom a constant presence, a knowledge that lived with him in certainty, that he was going to die, that everyone he loved or had come to tolerate would die with him. That he had done this to himself. That she was right to abandon him, because at the end of the day, this is all that he is. A bomb, and a dead man. 

Still, he thinks perhaps. He would have liked to go a little bit more quietly. He fantasized about death coming to him like an old friend, or him running to meet it, a blaze of glory. He thought perhaps he could die well, honorably. 

He is not going to die honorably. He is going to die a bloody pincushion in a ruined temple to a distant and uncaring goddess who’d been usurped by another more immediate, micromanaging goddess, and perhaps that’s what happens when you get to know the divine intimately, it fucks you. It just fucks you. In every sense. 

He is perhaps not thinking terribly clearly. There’s an arrow in his shoulder and one in his leg and as the goblin draws the bowstring back he thinks, damn it, fucking goblins? And perhaps that would have been the last thing he Ever thought, mere seconds away from shuffling off the mortal coil to the tune of goblin laughter and his own ring of dissatisfied curses, but he closes his eyes and accepts his fate and then it-- doesn’t come. There’s motion and shouting and warmth and then the cry of infernal-- Hellish rebuke, he knows hellish rebuke, and he opens his eyes and Wyll is standing in front of him, chest heaving, looking-- a bit frenzied.

“Gale,” He manages, “Are you alright?” 

“Me?” Gale manages, and then he processes the arrow in Wyll’s side. “Me? are you-” “It’s one arrow, you look- you don’t look well.”

“I- Watch out-” Gale tries to fling himself forward to heroically knock Wyll to the ground, but there is no arrow whizzing over their heads, only the strangled cry of a goblin dying to a knife in the neck, and then Gale is on top of Wyll on the ground for no reason, and Astarion just calls-- “You can take your time, I’ve just handled the last of them.”

Gale hates him a little, but that’s not relevant, because there are warm hands on his arm and not even the swell of pain as Wyll draws out the arrow gets through the haze of blood loss and the odd feeling of...comfort. Flat on his back and Wyll is still taking care of him.

“Thank you,” Wyll calls, to Astarion, as his hand moves to the back of Gale’s neck, under his hair, making him feel considerably warmer. 

“Do warlocks heal?” Gale mumbles, and Wyll gives him an odd look.

“I feel better,” He explains.

“That’s because you’re lying down,” Wyll provides, looking warm and bemused.

“I think- I will keep on. Doing that. If you don’t mind.” “By all means,” Wyll says, petting his hair, and Gale decides that this is as good a place to faint any, while he still has an excuse to faceplant in Wyll’s chest.

He loves not being dead.

#bg3 #bg3 wyll #bg3 gale #gale of waterdeep #wyll ravengard #bladeweave #casper's haunted fic tag

[xmalereader]

Lord Morpheus X Male Reader

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|| Masterlist ||

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Authors Note: The whole Grumpy x Sunshine reader is starting to become my favorite for lord Morpheus and decided to make another God of happiness shot! Enjoy this wholesome!

Summary: Morpheus has reached the point of wanting to court the God of happiness after knowing each other for a few years, wanting to create something serious between the two.

Warnings: Fluff, siblings, mentions of endless family, Mentions of death and delirium, Gods of happiness and darkness, bonding, slight kissing, courting, marriage proposal.

Word count: 2.5K

—

—

The God of Darkness is glaring at the Dream Lord, Dream of the Endless, King of Dreams and Nightmares, Lord Morpheus. He’s looking deep into his soul as he hissed out again.

“No.”

Lord Morpheus held his head up high with his hands behind his back. “Void, i’m not asking—I'm simply telling you.”

“And I’m telling you no.” Void fights back as he takes a step forward, challenging the Endless. “You will not be courting my brother and I will not allow it.”

“It’s not your choice too decide his fate.” Morpheus reminds the God as he growls in anger, turning around in spot as he frowns. “You will not be courting my brother, endless or not. He won’t be by your side.” He warns Dream of the Endless, giving him one last look before disappearing into the darkness. Sunny’s older brother had taken notice of Lord Morpheus courtship towards his brother. As much as he cared for his little brother he wasn’t going to allow an Endless to take his innocence away.

The King of Dreams himself had fallen for the God of Happiness after years of knowing each other. Since the day he first saw his bright smile he was able to feel that familiar tug In his heart, the same feeling he had for Nada and Calliope. He didn’t expect himself to experience that again but with Sunny he would allow such feeling.

The god of happiness was perfect as a husband and partner. He got along well with all of his siblings and the hall adored him, not matter how bad some could usually be, Y/n is always able to work his way inside their hearts. Death already accepts him as a little brother that she adores and loves to be around with. His joy and happiness is contagious, not only to humans but to the endless too.

The news of his courting had reached the rest of siblings, earning them a very interesting conversation during the dinner together with Dream sitting on one end of the table while the rest of his siblings settled. It’s Death who bring up the conversation of his courting. “Rumors tell me that you’ve started courting someone.” She wiggled here brows in a teasing way as Morpheus rolls his eyes.

“Really? Another poor soul to get hurt and abandoned just like the rest.” Said Desire as they leaned back in their seat, legs crossed as they asks. “Who is this new creature you’ll be courting?”

Morpheus adjusts his seating, locking eyes with his sibling as he answers. “The God of Happiness, Sunny, Ray of Sunshine, Y/n.”

Desire froze on spot, his eyes widening in surprise but then slowly darkening. “As much as I am happy for you, brother. I can’t allow you to go after Sunny. You see he’s far too like-able and knowing you, you’d probably hurt his heart.”

Morpheus knew that his last relationships didn’t work out and that he’s made mistakes before but Sunny was a lot different than the rest. He made him feel whole and because of him he can be someone new, someone who can make great changes to himself and his realm. He appreciated Y/n’s presences and even found himself surprised when we the small God challenged him if Morpheus were to over step any boundaries. Everyone knew that he wasn’t one who easily fell in love, but this god has caused such stir inside of him to want to start courting.

“I appreciate your concern, sibling. But, I can assure you that Y/n can make their own decision. If he refuses to accept my proposal the I will not force him nor will I leave his side. I’ll continue to be a friend of his—that is if he wishes.”

“Of course, he’d say Yes!” Death was obviously the happy one for her brother. “I see the way he is around you and he really likes you. You just wait and see.” She gives him a wink, causing a small smile to spread on his lips before the silence is broken by their younger sister Delirium.

“Sunny.” She starts, getting Dreams attention. She sat on the far left side of the table next to Destiny as she asks. “If he says yes, could I meet him?” Both Endless and God had many similarities and she wished to meet him someday.

Dream eyes his younger sister, the two never had a close bond like he did with Death. He was sometimes cautious around her after she changed but he was willing to give their relationship another chance before giving a small nod. “Of course.” His younger sister smiles, turning back to focus on her own doing as she kicked her legs happily. The spent their rest of their family dinner catching up with each other and knowing about their own duties.

—

From the Waking world, the God of happiness roams happily as he walks in a park, a skip in his step as he hums a soft tune that his sister, Love, had sung to him once. For some reason he felt happier than usual, feeling something good coming today. He had fulfilled his duties and had met manny new people that enjoyed his company, his little meet up with Death had to be missed due to her family dinner which he understood. He too, sometimes joined his own family dinners in order to reconnect with his sisters and brother who’ve been busy on their ends.

He didn’t mind being on his own, he’s been used to it for many centuries and could last a few more. He was lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t sense his brother, Void, appear next to his side. “Brother.” His voice startles him, causing him to trip over his own feet but Void is able to grab his arm on time and hold him upright before he falls to the floor.

“Oh, Void! I didn’t expect to see you here, what brings you to France?” Y/n cheerfully asks, straightening himself and fixing his clothes as his brother. God of Darkness, Ruler of chaos, asks him a question. “Have you ever fallen in love?”

Y/n is caught off guard by his brothers question, opening and closing his mouth as he tries to find an answer. “A few times, many years ago actually.”

“And now?”

The god shuts his mouth, face growing red at the thought of falling in love again. Lately he has been growing feeling for the King of Dreams but nothing has been confirmed to know of Morpheus felt the same. If not, he didn’t want to ruin the close friendship they’ve created after a few years of knowing each other. “I—no.” He lies, turning around quickly to avoid his older brothers protest as he continues to walk forward.

“Your a terrible liar.” His brother says, following after him as Y/n tried to get himself distracted or come up with an excuse to avoid his brothers questions. “What about you? Haven’t you ever fallen in love?” He shot back while Void frowns. “Never.” Is his response which breaks Y/n heart a little, hearing his older brother admit to never falling in love. “Really?” His own voice is soft and perhaps full of petty but his brother isn’t bothered by it. “Who would love the Ruler of Chaos and Darkness? No mortal or immortal would.”

“You don’t know that.” Y/n frowns. “I bet their is someone out their who would love you and believe me brother when you find them or when they find you, you’ll soon start to get that fuzzy feeling inside whenever your around them. You’ll want to be around them and get to know their likes and dislikes—Oh! The best feeling of falling in love is knowing that they love you back!”

Void can’t help but smile at his brothers reaction towards love. He expected this conversation more with his sister, Love. But, his little brother was an acceptation. Just the sound of his voice growing excited at the mention of love is enough for him to know that his little brother has fallen hard for the King of Dreams. As much as he hates the idea of the two courting their isn’t much he can do to stop it. If love makes his brother react this way then he couldn’t possibly ruin the happiness he is to receive soon.

“One day I’ll be able to experience that feeling but, right now you can give yourself the time to fall in love. Just, don’t tell Love that I said this you know how she gets.” He groans out. If his sister found out about their conversation it would be chaos for the two.

“I won’t!” Y/n chuckles, standing close to his brother as the two walked together down the park in France. He was soon to leave to London and start his new duties there before visiting the Dreaming. He hears Void sigh deeply and say. “I care for you, you know that right?”

Y/n stands in front of his brother, stopping him in his steps as he raised a brow. “Why does it sound like your dying or something. Did you do something wrong?” His eyes widen. “Did you kill someone?” He whispers this time, voice quiet.

Void rolls his eyes. “None of the above, i’m simply letting you know that I care for you and wish you joy and happiness.” His voice drips with sarcasm now. “Enjoy our moment or else I’ll make you cry again.”

Y/n pouts, giving him a glare. “Maybe you should ask for advice on how to be kind to your family by Love. She can give you some good tips.” He jabs his finger against his brothers chest, “or else I’ll tell her about our bonding moment.”

The God of Darkness froze, eyes hard as he glared. “You wouldn’t dare.”

The God of Happiness grins. “Try me, brother.”

—

When Morpheus returns back from his family dinner and duties he is informed by Lucienne that all was well in the realm and that a guest had arrived to see him. Morpheus didn’t have many guests visiting him but upon hearing Sunny’s name he can’t help but smile a little.

He was told that he’d left to walk around the Dreaming and to explore for a bit with Matthew by his side. His trusty raven watching over the god of happiness as they roam around Fiddlers green.

“—he did that?”

Morpheus can hear Y/n’s voice from a distance as he continued to walk further into Fiddlers green.

“Yeah! I tell you, kid. Lucifer was not happy after their defeat by the boss himself.” Matthew responds back to their small conversation as they sat underneath a tree. Y/n humming to himself as he pulls his legs up to his chest. “I think one only met them once.” He blurts out, at startling the raven in surprise. “You’ve meet Lucifer?! The King of hell, are you crazy?”

Y/n shrugs his shoulders. “I met them when they were first banished from Silver city. They were actually my first.” He confessed. “They were alone and sad and I guess I was there during the right time. I brought them some happiness during our first meeting and they have always respected me. Lucifer wouldn’t cause me any trouble.” He turns to Matthew who said no words, far too shocked at the idea of Lucifer being his first victim of happiness.

“That is impressive, who would have thought.” Matthew flaps his wings, ruffling them as he puffs his chest out, causing Y/n to stroke his feathers, giving them a light touch as Matthew leans into it. The two not noticing Morpheus standing near by as he watched and listened. The story between Sunny and Lucifer was something new to hear, he didn’t think the god of happiness was powerful enough to bring slight happiness to the Ruler of Hell themselves.

As they continued to converse, Morpheus takes his time on reveal himself from the shadows. Approaching the two as Y/n looks up from Matthew and a wide smile spreads on his lips. “Hello, Dreamy.” He calls out, coming to a stand as he brushed off any grass on his legs and standing in front of Morpheus.

“What happened to Morphy?” He questions at the sudden name change. “Oh! I’ll still call you Morphy but today your Dreamy.” His face goes red when he noticed the way it sounds. “Wait no, I mean—your dreamy as in Dream because your the king of dreams—I mean you are dreamy but—actually—“ He continued to ramble not really knowing what he was saying anymore as Morpheus steps up. “Relax.”

He whispered, finally getting the god to calm down and let out a deep sigh.

“Sorry.” He sighs out, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. The tension between them grows until Y/n gasps in remembrance. “I almost forgot!” He reached into his own pocket while saying. “I got you something during my travels in the waking world. I was visiting an old friend and they helped me make you this.” He holds out a golden necklace with a blue circled stone with raven engravings carved into it, he shyly hands it to him and clears his throat. “I thought you’d like it—“ Dream gently takes it from his hand, thumb grazing over the stone. “—figured you’d accept it as a courting gift.” He bounced on his toes nervously. His hands behind his back as he takes notice of Morpheus’ frozen state.

His reaction is causing Y/n to panic, perhaps this wasn’t a good idea. Maybe asking for courting was something Morpheus didn’t do, the sudden panic was causing him to doubt himself. “If you don’t wish too accept that’s also fine!”

“I do accept.” Morpheus cuts in, holding the necklace in his hand as he smiles softly at the small god. “Strange how I was going to ask you the same question, didn’t think you’d beat me to it.”

Y/n can’t believe his words as he laughs, not thinking that the two were thinking the same thing about the other. “Dream of the Endless asking to court me? Now, that is surprising.”

Morpheus chuckles, stepping forward to place a hand on his waist and pulling him close. “Does an Endless surprise you?”

“A little.” He chuckles. “Don’t forget, if you wish to court me you Matt provide me a gift.” He lightly swats Morpheus’ hand from his waist as the Lord laughs at his actions. “For you, I’ll give you the world.”

Y/n hums. “How about starting small?” His eyes roam Fiddlers green before landing on Matthew. “How about Matthew?”

“Wait what—?” The raven is standing on a branch and confused.

Morpheus puckered his lips. “Debatable.” He responds, “Unfortunately, Matthew isn’t a gift I can provide.”

“Very well, then I give you twenty four hours to think of something.” Y/n leans forward to peck his cheek, smiling against his skin before pulling away. “Twenty four hours and then you can come find me.” He whispers to the Dream Lord making him weak on the knees. “Of course, my ray of sunshine.”

#male reader #lord Morpheus #lord Morpheus x male reader #the sandman #the sandman x male reader #grumpy x sunshine #god of happiness #au #dc x male reader #dc comics #dream of the endless #dream of the endless x male reader

[imaginesforfandom]

Enchanted Shadows: A Witch's Dance

Kai Parker x Reader

No pronouns used

summary: In the mystical realm of Mystic Falls, you, a young witch, find yourself entangled in the darkness of the supernatural world. Your heart heavy with its weight, you stumble upon one of the most feared and fascinating figures in the supernatural community—Kai Parker. With a reputation that sends shivers down the bravest spines, Kai's twisted humor and unpredictable nature draw you in despite the warnings. An unexpected encounter in your herb garden sparks a connection that defies the boundaries of your world. As you navigate the intricacies of Kai's troubled past and the allure of his enigmatic charisma, you're faced with a choice: stay away from the danger he embodies or risk everything for a love that seems impossible in a world where darkness reigns. 'Enchanted Shadows: A Witch's Dance' weaves a tale of forbidden attraction, empathy, and a love that flourishes amidst the supernatural shadows.

Enchanted Shadows: A Witch's Dance

The Mystic Falls night was shrouded in darkness, and you found yourself wandering through the abandoned streets, your heart heavy with the weight of the supernatural world you had become a part of. As a young witch, you had always been warned about the dangers lurking in the shadows, and it seemed that fate had led you to one of the most dangerous of them all: Kai Parker.

Kai had a reputation that sent shivers down the spines of even the bravest vampires and witches. His twisted sense of humor and unpredictable nature made him both feared and fascinating. It was said that he had no regard for anyone's well-being but his own, yet there was an undeniable charisma about him that drew you in.

One fateful night, while you were tending to the herbs in your garden, you felt a presence behind you, a subtle but unmistakable shift in the air. Before you could react, a voice whispered in your ear, "You're quite skilled with those herbs."

Startled, you turned to find Kai standing there, his blue eyes sparkling with an inexplicable curiosity.

"You... you shouldn't sneak up on people like that," you stammered, trying to maintain your composure.

Kai chuckled, a sound that sent a strange warmth through you despite your better judgment. "I tend to do a lot of things I shouldn't."

Over time, you found yourself drawn into Kai's orbit, despite the warnings of your friends and the nagging feeling in your gut that told you to stay away. He was an enigma, a puzzle you couldn't resist trying to solve.

As the days turned into weeks, you discovered that there was more to Kai than met the eye. He had his demons, his past filled with pain and isolation. You couldn't help but feel a sense of empathy for him, a desire to understand the darkness that consumed him.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the stars filled the sky, you found yourself standing with Kai in the same garden where you had first met. His hand brushed against yours, a touch so gentle it surprised you.

"You're not like other witches," he mused, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

You met his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest. "And you're not like other vampires."

A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

You reached up, your fingers tracing the lines of his face, feeling the coolness of his skin. "I haven't decided yet."

In that moment, the world faded away, leaving only you and Kai in a fragile bubble of connection. It was a connection forged in defiance of the darkness that surrounded you both, a connection that held the promise of redemption and love in a world where such things seemed impossible.

As you leaned in, closing the gap between you, you knew that the path you were treading was dangerous, but it was a risk you were willing to take—for Kai Parker had become more than just a dangerous enigma; he had become the missing piece in your own complicated puzzle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i love this one so much ;-;. i hope you like it just as much, if not more!

#the vampire diaries #tvd #kai parker x you #kai parker x reader #kai parker oneshot #kai parker imagine #kai parker #malachai parker x y/n #malachai parker x reader #malachai parker oneshot #malachai parker imagine #malachai parker #kai parker x y/n #malachai parker x you

[myfandomprompts]

𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐞 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟗

Warnings: Angst Masterlist (Part 8 - Part 10)

Summary: The civil war goes on and the royal wedding is at hand. But you didn't expect your father to plot behind your back.

Time passed with only Aemond's breathing and your own to fill the silence of the room, as you took comfort in his presence next to you, sometimes hearing him praise your beauty as he was drawing patterns onto your soft skin while you laughed at the tickling feeling it gave you. He laughed with you, and it was the first time you've seen him do that since you've gone to Dragonstone all of those months ago. You were happy at that moment.

Sounds soon were heard from outside of the room and you froze. You gathered them to be songs chanted by nobles who were taking a stroll into the moonlight, drunk from the feast. Aemond saw you shiver from the coldness of the air, the skin under his fingers glowing from your previous act. He reluctantly decided that it was time to return to the festivities before anyone notices your absence, your scent on his skin a slight consolation at your parting.

But the idea of returning to the festivities was quickly abandoned. In his lust, Aemond had ruined your dress completely, and you were left with doning it as well as you could and finding a piece of clothing to envelop yourself with. Fortunately, as Aemond accompanied you back to your chambers, no one crossed your path, you sighed in relief. Mostly because if by chance, or rather misfortune, someone had seen you in his state, you were not sure the fate Aemond would have inflicted upon the poor soul. 

In the safety of your room, you turned to see Aemond gaze at you, words hanging from his lips on the threshold but not taking form. But he only smiled at you, bid you goodnight in inclining his head slightly before departing, heat lighter. But you decided otherwise.

"Aemond wait, I need to confess something to you," It was as much a good time as any other. You have never seen him in such a good mood of late.

He backtracked, now curious, awaiting for you to speak. You could not back down now.

"When I left for Dragonstone, after the twins' birth, it was not only for  the opportunity to see the Velaryons and study. It was because of... you. And Helaena."

Nothing on Aemond's face indicated that he was mad, or even happy for that matter. He was looking intensely at you, very still. You continued.

"I betrayed you," you admitted. "I betrayed you because I did not trust you, although you were my friend and you've always been honest with me." You were now clutching at the fabric of the cloth around you, your gaze directed at the floor. "When I met the twins, I doubted, and when you assured me that they were not... that they were not yours I still-."

You swallowed, not capable of finishing your sentence, and when you found the courage to continue your voice was firmer than before. "I still doubted you, because I felt betrayed. I didn't know what to do, you were one of the reasons that made me happy and when these thoughts started to cloud my mind I felt lost, and I didn't find any other solution than to put distance between Helaena and me. Between you and me."

Tears filled your eyes now, you still would not look at him, staring at his doublet that was now heaving with each of the breaths he took.

"What I mean to say is-" you tried in a trembling voice. " I was wrong, I was so very wrong, I know now that you were honest, as you've always been with me and that I was a fool not to trust you. But I will never betray you this way again, it made us lose too much. I regret it so dearly."

A beat passed in silence, before you finally felt him move, inhaling sharply and looking around him quickly, shaking his head  in disapproval before you could feel him report his gaze to you.

" This is the reason? This is why you abandoned me a year ago?" he said, lowly at first, but you felt his hot breath on your skin like a punishment as he came closer to you. "You silly, silly thing, you-" You felt him trying to take control of his emotions, to remain calm as he was once again taking a deep shaking breath. "You truly believed that I would disgrace my sister in such a manner? Do you not know me? At all? And as a result of your foolishness you just, decided to leave?"

"Pardon me for my naivety, but you were always quite protective of her, quite fond of her too-"

"She is my sister! She is a kind soul and is married to the foulest one I know," he said in a hushed voice, flattening his fists into the door behind you in a controlled anger, making you lift your head to his chest, water filling your eyes.

"It has always been you Y/N! Was it not obvious? All those times we've spent together? I was so jealous of Helaena growing up, being the one to get to have you around at all times as I was forced to suffer my cousin's and brother's farces.” Then his voice went softer, longing. “Although I could not resent her as I could never resent you.”

He realised that he could not bear seeing you this sad, instantly easing his hold on the door to bring a finger on your cheek, his anger abating. 

"And you are wrong. I've not always been honest with you. If I had been, I would never have let you leave for Dragonstone, no matter the cost. I was just so disturbed at the idea of losing you that I did not know how to react as I felt you slowly escaping my company."

His gaze was fixed somewhere between your neck and your hair, playing absently with it, his voice only a murmur. "If I had stopped you from leaving, many things would've been different. If I had made you stay, maybe I would never have gone to Storm's End, fulfilling my duty. And we would not be in that situation."

You didn't want him to speak further of Storm's End, as you knew that his regret went beyond his marriage to the Baratheon girl, and you would not let him dwell on his guilt over Lucerys’ death.

"I'm here now," you reached for his cheek, your fingers grazing at his scar again, like you did in the courtyard of the Stag’s castle. You smiled at the recollection. "As you once said, what is done is done, we can only move forward, and I will not doubt you again, please believe me."

He watched you, and you saw his look of guilt slowly fade behind his eye as he leaned to kiss you tenderly, his anger at you completely gone. You placed your hands on either side of his head, before he broke the kiss and held you in a tight embrace, his head resting on the top of your head.

"I swear I will not make you feel like you did ever again, I will preserve you from this pain."

With these words he dropped a kiss on your hair, detached himself from you and disappeared into the stairs. You felt cold in the dark corridor now as you tried to believe his last words, since the future was filled with trials that you feared, would make you precisely very miserable.

The next morning, you were reading a book in front of a mirror while your maid, who had come to help you prepare, brushed your hair carefully. The book in question was a story you knew by heart if you were to tell the truth, only because it was special. It was the first one Aemond had lent you after you first arrived in King's Landing, finding each other a common ground on your likeness for reading. The cover was damaged because of the obstination to carry it everywhere you travelled to, only leaving it behind when you had gone to Dragonstone.

As you read, you felt the maid behind you stop her brushing and her body tense, and when you looked up from your book and into the mirror you saw her gaze transfixed on your neck, where teeth marks and love bites were reddening the skin there. You stood up at once in hidden panic, and dismissed the poor girl who was now ashamed that she had stared, assuring her that you would dress yourself.

Once alone you passed your fingers over the marks, smiling slightly. Was it wrong of you not to feel guilty at the discovery of your maid? You didn't know but you could get used to the trace of him on you. If you weren’t so afraid for his reputation, yours and that of your house, you would have worn them like a pride. The morning passed with you mostly reading after deciding to let your hair down in order to hide your neck, and went out to eat with your father.

He was unusually quiet and it was rare that you did not eat with the company of your brother, your mother, unable to travel because of her health for many years, still at Deep Den. You felt your body tense, dread spreading across it as you braced yourself for the conversation that would follow.

He made you understand that he was to talk to you about an important matter. You waited expectantly as he finally said his piece, announcing that he had settled a marriage arrangement to a young lord of a Dornish house you've never heard of.

"It is a neutral House, not involved in the current civil war and who should not be in the future either. This is for your protection, this will keep you away from harm."

You were shocked. Your father never talked about marriage, especially yours as he seemed that he was quite fond of having you at his side. And now he talked about sending you away.

"Away from harm? But I am protected here! This is the Red Keep, dragons are laying in the Dragon Pit as we speak!" you argued.

"Yes but there are dragons outside as well!" he almost yelled before lowering his voice. "But this is not the outside threats that concerns me, it is here, in this very castle," you said nothing as you bit your lip and waited for him to continue. "You know of my allegiance, my real allegiance. I have a plan to return home, wait in inaction for a while before lending my strength to the Queen, the true Queen," he said as if he feared the walls had ears. "I have waited long enough, the people of the court will not see my departure as suspicious, and yours will happen too quickly for them to realise, or to care."

You doubted it greatly. But you could not hold back the feeling of betrayal that coursed through you now. "So you will send me away, for the rest of my life on a decision I had no say in, with little possibility of return? You will withdraw a lady of the Red Keep right under the royal family's nose in hope they do not realise your plan to defect? I've grown up here!"

Your father looked at you for a moment, as if considering your arguments in order to better confront them, but he changed his mind.

"It is done. I have sent letters, you will travel to Sandstone soon enough and meet your future husband who will take care of you and treat you as your rank deserves."

"What does that mean?" you asked, pain and anger in your voice.

"You know what that means," he said quickly, as if it was evident. "Do you think me so blind as to not notice? You are a recurrent talk among the people of the court, and I will not have them question your virtue over this Kinslayer! At least your marriage will put an end to all of this."

You stood up, your chair racking against the floor in a shrieking sound. You glared at him furiously, tears falling down from your eyes, your hands into fists, stared at him in silence and turned away in a whirl of your dress. You took care in slamming the door behind you as hard as you could. You felt betrayed.

Aemond was tired and disappointed, if not quite furious.

He was sitting at the table in the small council chambers, playing with the blue orb that granted him his place at the council, half listening to what was said. He had only returned from a tiring journey on Vhagar, having left without Aegon who was still kept close by the maesters and their mother.

He had met with the allied armies in the Reach, having received word that the Blacks were in the region and advancing further into the Crownlands. However, Aemond had arrived too late, finding the Greens retreated in a fortress, more than a half of their numbers decimated, the Blacks long gone.

He had gone against the war council's decision to go to the Reach, eager to meet the Blacks in battle despite his grandfather intent to handle this with care. But he had been utterly irritated when he arrived too late and had, in his wrath, scolded the retreating Greens and almost violently punished one of their commanders for his cowardice.

Aemond was feared, he knew it, his deeds at Storm's End being mostly responsible, and he knew that he could use it, even to motivate his own troops, if Vhagar was not enough. People were whispering that he was mad, and that he grew more bloodthirsty as the civil war went on. They were not completely wrong.

So he had flown back to King's Landing with the news, angering his brother and making his grandfather think of new strategies to confront the Blacks who were getting closer. Aemond had paid little attention, angered by his failure and by his brother's inequation at ruling properly as he was just barking obvious arguments at members of the councils. Aemond was unwilling to participate in his brother's demonstration of "force" until the talks around the table evolved into lesser matters.

His marriage was mentioned once, his mother informing the assembly that it would be delayed once again due to the current circumstance, eliciting a scoff from him. This marriage was granting them the Baratheron armies already, and he was confident that until he was to marry Cassandra, much will have changed. Moreover, he had no intention to marry her if he could help it, but he kept it for himself for now.

He now was seriously considering leaving the room, having not slept much in a long time and feeling the need to escape such uninteresting subjects, as the conversation now turned around the possibility of marrying Daeron off to make new alliances, but then he heard your name.

"Apparently, Lord Lydden is on good terms with House Qorgyle of Sandstone," spoke the Master of Whisperers. Larys Strong always knew more than he let on and always chose his moments  to reveal them. Right now, he was making a point at not looking at the Prince.

"As you know, Dorne has remained unresponsive to our demands and to those of the Blacks, staying forever neutral. The marriage of his daughter to the young Lord of Qorgyle seems to me like a mere attempt to further claim his cowardice, as the Lord did not clearly submit the service of his house to our cause, weak as it may be," he stated, clearly doubting Lady Y/N’s father's loyalty to their side.

Aemond was staring so hard at Larys that he could have made a hole in his skull, and he had stopped playing with the orb in his hand.

The members of the Council were all listening to Larys Strong respectfully, considering the implications of his words, and careful not to look at their Prince's direction at the end of the table, afraid to meet his gaze. Only Tyland Lannister, as the ruler of the Westlands, seemed uncomfortable at his subject's action. But still, Aemond sensed his mother's uncomfortable and furtive glances at him while Aegon shamelessly looked at him like he was the next performer at an entertainment show, a smirk on his lips, waiting for his brother to snap.

"Well, it is a good thing. Lady Y/N is a good match and her betrothal is long due, it will do her good." His mother said, talking loudly enough as in fear that someone would interrupt her. "Although Helaena will lose a friend, I am glad for her. And as to her father, he and House Lydden have proven loyal until now, I see no reason to doubt him, he only wishes for his daughter's best interests."

Alicent's words barely finished, Aemond had already stood up and stormed out of the room, not waiting to be dismissed.

He needed to think. He needed to calm his wrath, and he needed to find a way to shut the feeling that was flowing into his being because right now, he was not in control, and he hated it. He did not expect to react this way, he would not let his feelings get the upper hand.

From afar, Vhagar roared loudly into the wind.

-0- Part 10

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