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#let me know if there are any warnings I overlooked and forgot to mention
shady-tavern · 4 months
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Heart Song
The world was full of music and to you, that was beautiful. Everyone you met was surrounded by a melody, some louder and some quieter, some sad and some joyful, some struggling and changing tunes as they tried to find themselves and others marching forward, no matter the mismatched tones and half-broken sounding lyrics.
It had been difficult, growing up, to not get lost in the music constantly. Your parents hadn't understood what was going on, dragging you to doctors and trying out different medication, until you had been old enough to find the words, the proper explanation, to tell them how you saw the world. 
A gifted child, your lot were called. People born with abilities that showed as early as when they were infants or sometime late in their adulthood. But the powers always revealed themselves and very, very rarely were not put to use.
You had found yourself responding to melodies that had wanted to be heard and seen and recognized even before you understood what they were, singing back at them clumsily until they had lost a hurt edge, until they had found meaning, until the song surrounding a person's heart rang like clear bells with the sound of hope-relief-healing.
Becoming a hero had, in a way, been the only sensible conclusion. You wanted to help and you could help, so why wouldn't you? Why wouldn't you help sand down rough edges, help people over a bump in their road, help someone hurting find the strength to reach out?
Your parents had thankfully been the sensible and sceptical ones and had cautioned you against accepting just any hero gig, any contract that was extended to you. You had been so excited you had nearly accepted the first offer without question.
They taught you to read between the lines and always question things, especially if people in power reached out to you.
Hero contracts, as you had quickly learned, were rather intense. There was so much red tape surrounding everything and your parents really hadn't liked some of the wording of some of the passages and with great reluctance and perhaps a couple of tears, you had tossed those offers into the trash.
Right up until Redemption & Recovery had reached out to you. They had been a comparatively tiny organization back then, doing their best to help others with what funding they got. Almost all members were volunteers and the contract they had extended had, admittedly, looked pitiful compared to the promised salary of the big hero offices.
But their offer had been just what you had been looking for. Next to no red tape and your values and theirs aligned. The moment your parents gave their tentative green light you had called them straight away, telling them you wanted to work with them.
In the years that had followed you had made quite the name for yourself and the organization, which had grown in members and funding until it was one of the biggest. You were so proud of everyone and their hard work. 
While you had become the face of R&R, fighting and going to interviews and fan meetings and doing your best to be present online, everyone else had been hard at work behind the scenes. Networking and outlining and signing contracts, choosing sponsors carefully and keeping the unyielding desire to make the world better alive, no matter how big the organization got.
Redemption & Recovery focused heavily on not only offering recovering villains all the tools to keep healing and improving, but they also offered services to the public to help people stay away from the villain business in the first place.
You still didn't have much of a salary compared to other famous heroes, but that worked just fine for you. You rather donated as much as you could feasibly give to R&R, to help finance the services they offered. The therapists and doctors they had on their payroll, as well as housing aid and financial advisors and lawyers to help people get back on their feet.
You still received offers from the big offices, who hoped to poach you from R&R and the latest offer had you choking on your breakfast when you had seen the salary and other perks they had offered. It had still gone into the trash, because the red-tape situation had been as bad as ever.
Besides, you were perhaps a bit...unique, among the heroes. The big offices would probably find working with you rather headache inducing.
You raced around a corner, heart in your throat at the sound of hurt-terror-helplessness that filled the air ahead of you as thickly as the dust and smoke from the collapsed building that had yet to settle. You leapt over rubble and debris, your breath catching when you heard another bit of building crumble somewhere to the left.
And among the injured civilians, the panicked people, one melody rang louder than the others. Loud enough to drench everything in agony-hatred-despair like a wailing siren.
You had heard bits and pieces of this particular melody in the past and you knew exactly who it belonged to. Eclipse, a high-level villain known for laying waste to entire city blocks whenever he appeared. 
He was one of the villains who broke heroes left and right if they weren't strong enough to stand up to him and who had endangered many a civilian carelessly. No death count yet, but he was getting closer and closer to it every time he appeared. 
Even now he had been lucky that people had gotten out of the building in time before it had started to collapse.
Official sources weren't sure if he even had full control of his powers, considering the often haphazard destruction and his at times openly visible frustration. Whatever was going on, however, everyone agreed that he needed to be stopped before he ended up killing, no matter if it was intentional or not.
Eclipse's focused face turned into a mask of fear the moment he noticed you from the corner of his eye, head snapping around to stare at you.
His heart song drew you unerringly to where he was in a showdown with two other heroes, newbies if you remembered correctly. The heroes were bleeding and limping but determined-angry-hurt and they would not stop until they could no longer get up.
You saw Eclipse raise a hand in your direction and you felt his power in the air, heavy like a yoke dropping onto your shoulders, with a sharp underlining that told you it was barely-controlled. The ground beneath you starting to crack, glass shattering further, steel beams yanking out of the rubble to hurl at you.
But you were close enough. You closed your eyes for a moment, senses honing in on his heart song and you took a deep breath and began to sing. You answered the anguished melody of his heart, desperate and with a hurt so deep it had stained every part of his life for far, far too long.
You were only peripherally aware of all the ammunition clattering to the ground, steel beams scraping to a stop, glass grinding into shards so fine they briefly resembled glittering snow.
The two heroes backed up, relief making their songs brighter as they turned to rush to the aid of the injured civilians, two who had gotten pinned by fallen concrete.
Eclipse collapsed to his knees, a keening noise escaping him, wounded and terrified and he burst into tears. His heart song was nothing but pain and hurt that was finally set free, like a wound that had needed to be drained of infection. Painful but necessary.
You hurried towards Eclipse as he helplessly sobbed in a way that reminded you of a child that had been abandoned by everyone, confused and terrified and so terribly alone.
Before you could reach him however, still singing, for you hadn't completed the melody yet, a different song sliced through the air like a serrated blade, sharp and cutting and jarring enough that it made you jolt to a stop. 
You had just one moment to drag your focus away from Eclipse and back to the world around you, when Vision leapt out of the settling dust and rubble, his heart song a deep, echoing drum of vicious anger-determination-worry.
The sleek black metal helmet covering his head was faintly reflecting some sunlight and you dodged back just in time to avoid a kick to the middle. Two quickly and precisely aimed blows forced you to focus on the fight entirely and you had to cut off your song even as it felt like you were suddenly walking on spiky stones in your shoes. 
Cutting songs short hurt and the rest of the melody still stuck within you started to claw at your lungs, demanding to be released. To be completed.
You managed to dodge around Vision, realizing that his heart song filled with righteous fury and blade-sharp worry gave you...nothing. It was rare, granted, but sometimes there were people who didn't want to be saved. Who didn't want or perhaps need your songs.
They wanted to be their own saviors.
You hadn't clashed with Vision before, but then again, heroes rarely did. He was a villain capable of seeing into the future and his ability to predict the outcomes of battles ahead of time, knowing the moves and abilities of heroes ensured that no one had ever won against him. 
No trap had ever worked and he was one of ten villains who managed to keep everything about themselves private. He was also pretty much all over the place when it came to his MO, he seemed to enjoy dipping his fingers at least once into every pie.
That he was here, now, getting involved with you when you had never so much as seen his shadow fleeing his crime scenes made you think of the rumors you had heard recently. Of unexpected villain alliances and joint attacks.
You ducked out of the way of his next attack, sliding around his guard to trip him up. Vision was skilled, however, easily as skilled as you were in hand-to-hand combat and smoothly turned his fall into a drop and roll, avoiding your sweeping kick by a hair. 
One thing however, became clear within even that short exchange of blows: He was willing to hit a lot harder than you.
You hated fighting. You loathed being the reason heart songs changed for the worse.
Fighting caused hurt and deepened the songs of pain-anguish-hate-loneliness. It filled the world around you with the sound of strings snapping and keys being smashed, as though an orchester had decided to get shitfaced drunk and now they were playing their instruments so hard they ended up breaking.
Hurting others was the ugliest song you knew and it made something in your very teeth ache like biting onto a bar of icy metal after drinking hot tea.
You managed to hold your ground, always peripherally aware of Eclipse, who was gasping sobs into his hands and the unfinished song scraping your ribs raw, right up until another villain joined the fray. She appeared so quickly you had no chance to react in time, not with Vision viciously on the attack. 
Silver was a tough woman with the fiercest heart song you had ever heard, strong enough to crumble mountains like cookies and with such a drive forward that her melody could sweep anyone up in her rhythm, driving them to reach for the stars relentlessly.
Silver flicked out a dagger and the knowledge that she didn't kill didn't help one bit when she was well known for leaving heroes with career-ending injuries. She was so damn precise it usually only took her one hit to take heroes down. Even the powerful ones couldn't afford to slip up around her and they only ever took her on one-on-one, because even an inexperienced, second villain spelled their doom. 
Vision already had you fully occupied and you had no chance to dodge, never mind counterattack.
You saw the flash of the blade, braced yourself for the pain, the songs around you suddenly too much, too loud, too – a sharp pop filled the air, followed by one of your favorite melodies in the world. 
From the corner of your eye you saw the sweep of a night-black cape and a night-black gauntlet came up to parry Silver's blow, as Areth appeared at your back out of nowhere.
"Yo," Areth said with a sharp grin, a mask covering the upper half of her face.
"Lo," her twin Sorrel answered as he leapt out of her shadow and at Silver, tumbling her to the ground with a snarl.
"Is someone bullying our Cloud?" Areth asked as she whirled past you, striking out at Vision, disappearing and reappearing behind him before the hit landed, but it had the desired effect – he had reacted to her feint.
It left his flank wide open and her kick landed solidly, throwing him off his feet and he tumbled into the dirt and rubble as Areth took up position at your side. "You good, little Cloud?"
The twins had nicknamed you Cloud since they thought you lived with your head in the clouds, always listening to things no one else could hear, humming and smiling or frowning at nothing.
"Give me cover?" you asked, already running for Eclipse and picking his song back up, relief flooding your lungs and Areth's melody resonated protective-care-determination, turning her usually pleasant heart song into something beautifully fierce. 
Her twin's song echoed hers as he dipped in and out of shadows, disarming Silver at last – not that that stopped her from being dangerous – while Areth moved to keep Vision occupied. Her teleportation skills were honestly some of the few abilities that could stand up to Vision's future-predicting powers.
She seemed to move too fast for him to reliably predict where she was going to end up next in the heat of battle. Which didn't mean that she had an easy time against him, but she at least was capable of landing a hit on him.
Eclipse's desperate melody took a metaphorical breath as your song rose over the sound of battle and you did your best to soothe him back out of the storm, to guide the hurt and bitterness and abandonment that drenched every single part of him towards release.
You had just barely finished the song, Eclipse's sobs slowly petering out as he sat sagged, utterly exhausted, when Areth appeared at your side, grabbing you. Sorrel slipped into her shadow and then you were gone. For just a split second, your world was...quiet. Quiet in a way it never was.
And then you stood a street over, sound and color and smell and taste filtering back and you needed a moment to reorient yourself before you turned around to where the battle had been, only for your breath to catch. A strange shimmer filled the air a few houses behind you, moving up and up at a rapid pace to create a massive dome.
"White Rabbit showed up," Areth said and her and Sorrel's melodies overlapped now, like two people singing the same song in perfect sync. They always sounded like this when he hid in her shadow and you were about the only person who had known from the beginning that Areth wasn't walking alone whenever she had shown up in costume.
You were about to hurry forward, when her hand found your shoulder. "Don't go, Cloud, you know that time's not on your side in there. Besides, the big league heroes are already on the way, though I doubt that by the time they break the dome they're going to find anyone but confused civilians."
You grimaced and reluctantly backed down. Your powers were absolutely and completely useless when it came to Timeless, who only needed to catch you up in either a time-freezing dome or had to rewind the last couple of seconds once you appeared to ensure you could be avoided. You had to get close enough to people after all for your powers to have the desired effect.
"Thanks," you said. "For helping me."
"Always, little Cloud." Areth gave your shoulder a gentle nudge, her and Sorrel's combined heart songs mellowing out into affection-kindness-protective. "You're one of the few actually, genuinely good eggs that we know." She paused looking up. "Aw, shit, bye!"
They teleported away and not a moment too late. Rescue heavily impacted where Areth had stood, having leapt from who-knew-where, straightening on powerful legs.
Rescue was a grizzled, old hero, one of the oldest and she rarely left her office these days, preferring to guide and teach the younger generation.
That she was here meant that Timeless' dome needed to go down stat.
Rescue tipped her head politely at you. "Anything you can tell me?" she asked, voice rumbling. "I saw the mess from my window and I'm sick and tired of meetings."
Or she had gotten bored. Rescue was more than established enough that she could get away with pretty much anything. You got her caught up to speed and she nodded before tensing and leaping away, asphalt cracking in her wake.
You hurried forward too, lingering near the shimmering glass-like dome until it shattered apart and then you were dashing forward. You could sing if there was no specific heart song to focus on, but those songs tended to have more of a general effect and they were softer and gentler. They were, however, more than enough to soothe and calm the civilians and ease the tension of the newbies.
"No one's left," Rescue muttered. "Fucking villains, they've been getting really damn bold lately."
"Do you know why?" you asked her. Rescue was pretty knowledgeable, there had been a few instances over the years where she had given you pretty damn useful advice.
She frowned. "Not a damn clue." Her phone started to ring and she pulled it out to glance at the screen. With an eye roll she added, "Gotta bail, these adult children need me to hold their hands. Becaus god forbid they just do what I say."
With a quick salute she was gone and you frowned at your surroundings. The villain activity was bothering you quite a bit if you were being honest.
Things always shifted, people grew in power or lost power, but it was an ebbing and swelling that was visible on both sides. There was a strange symbiosis between villains and heroes, a flow of power and control. 
Usually, a new arrival made waves on both sides for a bit, a new villain or new hero upsetting the previous balance. It was like integrating a new instrument to an orchestra that hadn't expected any arrivals in the middle of a play and now they had to improvise and adapt quickly on the spot.
But this, this was different. Whatever was going that had villains uniting who usually didn't work with each other, it had them antsy and downright worried.
Only villains were antsy and worried. This upset among the villains was not reflected among the heroes, which meant...
You finished helping with the rescue efforts and went back to R&R, allowing the resident medic to check you over like they always did after a fight. All the while you kept turning things over in your mind.
Vision was a loner, as was Eclipse. Silver occasionally worked with other people, but that was only temporarily and Timeless was an enigma on the best of days. Two of those villains teaming up you could have explained away, but all four of them? And they weren't the only ones.
You went home and booted up your computer to start noting everything down. Aside from today, you had other villains working together who should not have anything to do with each other. Tide and Meteorite had been seen aiding each other and Skull Crusher and Bard had teamed up with Ultimatum, who they had a notorious rivalry with.
Before you knew it, you had nearly twenty villains who had recently been seen either on downright friendly terms or actively helping each other. Picking up your phone you started to make calls, hoping to get a foot in the door before whatever was going on would come crashing down.
There were plenty of villains who actively liked you after you had helped them with your singing. While most people feared your powers deeply – even heroes and plenty of civilians to your great sadness – the ones you had sung to tended to seek you out again.
Healing hurt, but afterwards...well, they were doing better afterwards, taking better care of themselves, seeking out therapists or other aid. You were probably the only hero around who could ask villains to poke into the business of their brethren and report back to you.
Only...for the first time, you got no answers.
You sat awake for hours, searching through the internet and online newspapers. You scrounged through the cesspit of social media, trying to find the red string that eluded you.
*.*.*
"Uh, Cloud? You good?" you heard Sorrel's hesitant voice and you whirled around, energy drink almost sloshing over your fingers. You probably looked half manic, had probably sounded half manic when you had called the twins earlier.
Both his and Areth's heart songs were worried-concerned-confused and you smacked the whiteboard behind you. Oh, your hands were kind of shaky. That was bad. But, no matter, you had finally gotten a lead in this mess!
You made a sort of incoherent but meaningful noise as you gestured at what you had pinned up. The twins liked old-school detective stuff and you had actually found it easier to keep track of things by spreading them out physically, rather than the messy note doc you had opened on your computer.
Areth picked up one of the energy drink cans littered around.
"How many did you have?" she asked and you didn't deign to answer her. It would only worry her. Considering her heart song became exasperated-fond-concerned anyway, that was a moot point, but you didn't have to make it worse. You'd also have to toss out all the cans before she saw the mess that was your kitchen.
You took a sip of your current energy drink and declared, "We are getting royally fucked."
The twins peered at the whiteboard which, alright, it might look kind of nonsensical at first, but you had put up colorful strings to help point things out! And pretty, glittery sticky notes a fan had gifted you!
You vaguely remembered posting a grateful little tweet about those sticky notes a few hours ago, because you appreciated your fans and you wanted them to know that.
Your fans had nearly exploded with the desire to give you more of those. You also vaguely remembered telling them that glittery stuff in general was great.
Your PO box was going to look like a five year old's birthday and you already looked forward to it.
You smacked different parts of the whiteboard, pointing out politicians and company CEOs, newspaper clippings and lastly, the documented unrest among the villains. You were talking fast enough to almost trip over your words as you told them everything you had gathered.
"And that leads me to one conclusion!" you said, the twins staring at you, standing tall and strong before you in all their anti-hero glory. They had always been a lot bigger than you, you only came up to their shoulders and they were quite dangerous and powerful fighters. Though, not dangerous for you.
"Heroes are in on this," you declared with your entire chest. "And the ones that aren't are kept in the dark." You gestured at yourself, the energy drink sloshing noisily in its can. "Like me. Because I'd kick their asses."
"You never kick anyone, little Cloud," Sorrel murmured, exchanging a heavy look with his sister. There was a plethora of micro-expressions as they communicated silently, before they faced you again. "Alright, I think it's time you meet some people."
*.*.*
You had no idea where you were, since Areth had teleported you through three different locations, but you trusted the twins. And maybe, you were still a little too hopped up on sleep deprivation and a number of energy drinks that probably shouldn't go together.
"Did you give them a heads-up?" Sorrel asked quietly and Areth sent him an unimpressed look.
"Oh no, absolutely not," she said dryly. "I was just going to drag our precious Cloud into the lion's den and watch shit hit the fan."
Sorrel rolled his eyes and they shoved each other for a little bit as they led you down a dark and dreary hallway. Couldn't villains have their lair somewhere nicer? More colorful? At least, you assumed you'd be led to a villain lair.
You reached a door made of heavy, thick metal and the twins glanced at each other, then you, offered you a reassuring look and then they pushed the door open. Oh, this was so a lair! How cool, you had never been invited to one despite having villain acquaintances.
"We're here," Areth called out, while she and Sorrel strolled forward and you trailed after them, craning your head to look at everything.
Where the hallway had been nothing but gray concrete, dreary and almost unsettling, the lair itself was bright with light and filled with different work spaces. There were inventions off to one side, minions scurrying about who all froze in their tracks and then you saw them.
The around twenty villains who had been seen working together, each and every one of them in costume and their overlapping heart songs anything but pleasant.
"Do not sing," Meteorite snarled as you opened your mouth to call out a greeting. "In fact, stay right the fuck over there."
You didn't tell him that you were already too close, that this distance was more than enough to work your magic, but you smiled disarmingly and mimed your mouth being zipped shut with jittery hands. Everything about you was still jittery and you felt a little like your bones were vibrating. Or was that your muscles?
"We are only allowing this because we trust the twins," Bard said, sitting on Skull Crusher's massive shoulders, expression intense and grim. "Having a hero here is really damn risky."
"Cloud already figured pretty much everything out," Areth said and you perked up hopefully, while the villains all stilled. The air was heavy with threatening and worried and tense heart songs, a cacophony of alarmed-mistrustful-angry-guarded-wary. 
Any other day and this would have given you a migraine. There was a reason why you didn't like crowds much and had to take days off after fan meetings.
"How?" Vision asked, voice incredulous and his heart song intense and battle-ready.
"The internet," Sorrel answered and now everyone stared at you like you were the weirdest, most baffling thing they had ever seen. You smiled disarmingly, still jittery. You probably looked, uh, slightly unhinged.
"What," Timeless said, voice flat and disbelieving and those assessing, sharp eyes fell to you. "Explain."
You barely got to inhale before the entire speech rushed out of you again, complete with big hand motions and you were sure you were giving speed-talking champions a run for their money.
A beat of heavy silence reigned after you finished, the twins still sticking close to you. You had no doubt that they would keep you safe if this somehow turned sour, but it wasn't like you were entirely defenseless either. 
With the villains requesting that you keep your distance, you'd get a song started before they could reach you. If you really put your all into it, you could get away unharmed easy-peasy.
You wouldn't like it, using your voice for anything but healing always felt like you were going to throw up at any moment, but you'd do what you had to to stay alive.
Not that anyone knew, you hadn't been forced to use those songs yet, thankfully. 
"How could you know that something was off?" Vision asked, his heart song wary-curious-impressed. Oh, the latter was new and...it was quite the nice tone. You focused on it to try and push the other songs into the background.
You wouldn't tell Vision that you could hear his and everyone's emotions around you, to the point where you could tell their intent.
People had never reacted favorably to that, they had always thought that it was creepy and invasive. You couldn't not hear their songs, however, so you just kept your mouth shut.
"When something happens, villains and heroes are always affected," you explained. "But you guys are the only ones who are getting upset." You spread your arms out. "So I looked until I found answers."
"Just like that?" Vision asked, disbelief openly audible in his voice, but his heart song grew a little bright and nicer, even as his guarded wariness remained. It had even gained a quiet, almost hidden note of curious-interested-fascinated.
You nodded and added, "It wasn't too hard in the end."
Considering the way everyone pinned you in place with hard, disbelieving stares, even the masked folk, you got the faint impression that it had, in fact, been quite hard.
"It's only possible to start noticing things if you don't consider heroes infallible," Skull Crusher mused, her voice deep and rumbling. "Did you figure out which ones are in on it?"
"I have speculations," you said and rattled off a list of names. Now all the villains' heart songs sounded impressed-incredulous-thoughtful.
Vision's heart song on the other hand sounded really damn nice now, almost no wariness left, though there was still no trust either.
"You know, it's a good thing you always live with your head in the clouds," Silver mused. "Or you would be a real problem for all of us."
"You already are, to be fair," Tide grouched, speaking up for the first time. "For someone who doesn't fight you are too good at taking us out."
There was a little tickle at the back of your throat, like a song wanted to break out as you honed in on his heart song and you swallowed it down with difficulty. They had asked you not to sing after all. Even if it was hard to keep silent, you had no desire to make anyone feel unsafe around you.
There was a moment of tension, before it seemed like the villains collectively exhaled. "Alright, get over here," Silver said, rubbing a hand over her face. "Let's talk."
The twins clapped you on the shoulders and flanked you as you walked up, Sorrel and Silver briefly nodding curtly at each other, a calm sort of wariness between them. There was no love lost.
"I hope we won't have another fight at our hands," Silver said. "I was not happy with your interference earlier today."
"And we told you our Cloud is off limits," Areth answered, hard and unyielding. "Let bygones be bygones, alright? He bruised you, you cut him, we have bigger fish to fry."
"Indeed," Bard said, accepting Skull Crusher's hand to hop down from their superior perch. "Alright, this is what we know."
*.*.*
It had been just as bad as you had feared. There were preparations put in place across the entire city for something big, skillfully kept from the public and fellow heroes who would have investigated. 
The villains around you had only noticed it themselves because they had their fingers in plenty of illegal pies and because they knew quite well who in this city was corrupt and who wasn't.
"We still don't know exactly why all these things are being put in motion," Vision mused as you looked at the evidence they revealed to you. "Money has been shifted around to people who should not get more power and they are very eager to comply."
It had taken you hours and some pulled strings to find those things out as well and only your inherent mistrust of those in power had ensured you looked where most did not think to look.
At first glance, things hadn't looked so bad, there were countless of business deals after all, but your punk parents had raised you well, had made you wary of anyone too rich, so you had kept digging deeper.
"And then there is this." Timeless tossed down pictures of the heroes you had identified as corrupt. "They are in the know, we are sure of that."
"Usually us villains are at least somewhat involved if something big is being planned," Bard added. "We don't like it if we're not getting invited to parties, after all. But this is...it's almost impossible to get any information out of the people we know have been paid to look the other way."
"Took us forever to gather this much," Silver muttered with a little frown-glare at you. She did not like that you had gotten done what they had struggled with so much.
You wisely kept your mouth shut about what your powers could do. Or how many connections you had, how many people felt grateful and indebted to you because you had helped them heal.
"But you might be just what we need," Vision spoke up, surprising you as he tipped his blank mask in your direction. "There is something these heroes know and we're running out of time. There is a big election coming up in a couple of weeks and if we don't stop whatever is going to happen before that, it will be too late."
"I do have an in with heroes," you muttered, studying the pictures on the table. "I can get into the big hero offices without trouble."
Many of the corrupt heroes were very publicly active heroes, very loved heroes – with ugly heart songs. You had met most of them and they carried melodies like starving dogs. Always hungry for more, never satisfied with what they had.
What was worse, they had no pure kind of ambition. The sort that spurred them to work harder and strive for the stars.
No, their ambition was ruthless and careless, they would step on as many necks as possible to get where they wanted to be.
You looked up, noticing that there was a sudden hush around the big table. "What?"
"You trust us and our word? Just like that? You don't think we want to use this to gain more power?" Vision asked, voice hard, but his heart song had suddenly soared a bit, it was curious-interested-hopeful. He sounded like he wanted to get to know you better, a quiet...yearning, of a sort.
You knew better than to tell him and the others that you could hear their hearts, their emotions. That it was impossible to lie to you.
"From what I understand, someone is pulling the strings and they are planning something terrible," you answered, serious and solemn and truthful. 
You just needed to meet that person. You'd only have to cross paths with them and then you'd know. Hearts couldn't hide or lie. Hearts were always honest.
It must be someone already powerful, a politician, a company CEO or perhaps even a hero. A maskless villain who had learned to hide in plain sight, planning patiently. 
This was...this was big, all these quiet and secret changes that had taken place would culminate in something that shouldn't happen.
"The mayor's election is up in a couple of weeks, we already suspect whatever is goign to happen will happen then," you murmured. "I looked at what events the city has been planning and what the hero offices are planning. Do you have a map?"
A map was quickly acquired and you noted down all the events taking place during the day of the mayor's election. There was the big gathering in the main plaza in front of the city hall, there were fan greetings with almost all the corrupt heroes in surrounding buildings and a big, long anticipated restaurant was going to open that exact day around the corner. 
Parades were planned and a big firework display was promised later, along with free drinks and food. No election had ever been this nice to its citizens and no election had ever been accompanied with so many events.
You drew the routes of the parades and each and every one of them led people past the plaza.
"They're gathering the citizens for something," Silver said grimly. "How many do you think will be there?"
"Most people," Vision murmured. "And, here." He set down his phone, scrolling to reveal how many big sales the surrounding shops offered on election day. Ridiculously low prices for expensive things.
"This reeks of someone planning to use their powers," Bard said, their lips pressed together unhappily. "What do you think, mind control?"
"The only super capable of affecting so many people lives on an island because she's sick and tired of society," Skull Crusher answered with a shake of her head. "And the power to control or affect that many people? That's rare."
"Unless there are artificial ways to enhance powers," Areth said. "We know a couple of mechanics and inventors, we'll chat them up and ask them if they heard any rumors."
"As will we," Tide agreed, glancing at you. "And you, uh..."
"Just call me Cloud," you said with a smile. "You leave the heroes to me."
"Can't believe us villains have to save the day," Timeless sighed. "That's what heroes are for, usually."
"Well, at least we have one hero to help us out," Vision mused, that blank metal mask tipping in your direction as he addressed you. "I know someone who can help you, a reporter who's been aiding us a lot and he's pretty good at hacking, would you mind taking him along?"
His heart song was a quiet calm melody of lying-hiding-hopeful. It wasn't hard to figure out what exactly he was lying about, his song gently rising above the others.
"Of course," you said with a smile. "Can he meet me later today?"
"I'll give him a call," Vision said with a nod, then pointed at you. "Just answer me this, have you slept at all?"
You smiled brightly. "I am full of energy, don't you worry."
Twin hands gripped your shoulders and you heard Sorrel say, "She'll sleep, don't worry. Come on, you manic genius."
With those words Areth teleported you away and the moment they had shoved you into bed, you were out like a light.
*.*.*
The journalist was indeed Vision out of costume. His heart song was anticipatory-determined-interested as he spotted you when you met him towards the evening.
You felt like death warmed over, the power nap the twins had wrestled you down for leaving you feeling like you had tried to chew cotton and your face felt kind of swollen and your limbs heavy. 
You probably made quite the miserable picture and still you were surprised to hear the shift in his song as it became concerned-determined-anticipatory.
"Vision told me about you, I'm Silas," he said and you couldn't help but think that he was quite the pretty man. With an intense gaze and earrings that framed his face perfectly. He even moved like Vision did, with quiet steps and an unshakable certainty of his path forward.
You wondered how many versions of this meeting he had gone through with his powers or what exactly he was capable of. Like your powers, like Sorrel's, he had made sure that no one quite knew how far he could stretch his visions into the future. What he could do with time itself if push came to shove.
"It's nice to meet you," you said with a genuine smile. If he wasn't telling you who he was, that was just fine with you, he could keep his secrets just like you kept yours. "Shall we?"
"What's the plan?" Silas asked as he fell in step beside you, his heart song thrumming with anticipation-curiosity-focus. Now that you were right beside him and outside of battle, you realized that his heart song was just as nice to listen to as the twins'.
"We'll start with Angel and their agency," you said. "They extended an invitation to me just last week to drop by for coffee and a chat. They most likely want to see if they can poach me." 
You knew the grin you offered him wasn't a hero's smile, not one of the sweet, reassuring ones you pasted onto your face when you were in costume. It was a real and genuine grin with all the dagger-sharp danger of someone who was a protector. 
Someone who had been raised by parents who believed in challenging every system, who had raised you to think for yourself. You loved people for all their faults. You especially loved them when their heart songs were guiding them towards happier and more content lives. 
You had pledged yourself to be a protector and if you had learned one thing during your career as a hero, it was that in every protector lurked a predator. A threat that rose the moment someone under their care got hurt.
You were soft and gentle because that was who you wanted to be, because hurting others was the worst song in the world, but you knew the danger that lurked within yourself.
The songs that lurked within you, and while you wouldn't use them unless you absolutely had to, you knew that you would. It might destroy the part of you that still felt innocent even after all these years, but you would do it.
So your smile was a little sharp, a little wicked and a little challenging as you asked, "Think you can play my agent, Mister Silas?"
Silas' heart song became a sweet and excited fascinated-interested-curious and he smiled back, a bit of villain shining through as his lips revealed a hint of teeth, his gaze sharp and cunning. "Most certainly. Is there anything I should know beforehand?"
You briefed him on everything he needed to know about Angel and their agency and by the time you were done, you had reached the big building painted with rising angels and the glory of a rising sun. There was a shitton of religious imaginary that you were not going to unpack, especially considering the corruption within.
"I will be humming," you told Silas quietly and he glanced at you. "Don't tell anyone, but humming has a weak effect on those around me. It will make Angel and others more talkative, are you comfortable with watching yourself and what you say more than you usually have to?"
He snorted. "I am not so weak as all that." He really wasn't, his heart song was strong and fierce and certain. Unshakable but not rigid and unyielding. It was fascinating. "Sing all you want, I will not fall under your spell."
And just like that, Silas had quickly and unexpectedly become one of your favorite people. Someone who, from the sound of his heart song, actually and genuinely didn't worry about your songs. He had been wary, yes, but never afraid.
He knew himself, you realized. He knew his emotions and his own mind and he was working on taking care of himself. You weren't needed, but...it sounded like he still wanted to get to know you anyway.
What a novel thing it would be, to not be needed but wanted.
You pasted on your sweetest, most unassuming smile, your fakest smile, the one you showed to everyone whose heart songs were rotten.
You pulled the front door open, starting a low, gentle hum that would set people at ease, would make them feel safe and comfortable and trusting around you.
*.*.*
It felt like you were dancing on wires, using your hummed songs so very gently and carefully, your questions peppered just as cautiously while you spoke with Angel. Angel whose heart song was a growling, dark melody of greed-envy-manipulation.
It was almost as bad as the sounds peoples hearts made when you hurt them. But only almost.
By the time Silas and you left, you wanted to curl up somewhere nice and quiet and fall asleep again, this time for longer.
"That was...a thing," Silas mused, sounding dry and sarcastic, his heart song a slow, unenthusiastic melody of unimpressed-underwhelmed-tired. "At least we got what we came for."
It had been a tiny slip-up from Angel, but it had been enough with the information Silas and you had. Angel had immediately looked annoyed when, after an hour of your coaxing and gentle, careful humming, they had revealed something they very much hadn't meant to.
They had expressed an annoyance of holding a fan event at the very edge of the plaza, but Iridescent had decided where everyone's meet and greet would take place.
Iridescent was a hero you had met only in passing and she was an unpleasant woman. Not because of how she behaved, she was always polite, always friendly, but those manners were nothing but fake.
You yawned and shook out your limbs. "I'll have to look into getting us an in with Iridescent, but I'm sure R&R can help me with that."
Silas made an agreeing noise. "You'll keep me involved, Singer?"
"Of course," you said. "And please, call me Cloud, that's what my friends do. I only chose that hero name because it was one of the few still available that fit my powers and weren't already snatched up by other heroes."
The copyright market was a veritable nightmare when it came to heroes who wanted to establish themselves.
"Are we friends now?" Silas asked with a raised brow, looking cool and collected, but his heart song had immediately changed to curious-interested-hopeful upon hearing your words.
You hadn't made villain friends before, at least, not in the same way that Sorrel and Areth were your friends. But...you liked him. You liked his heart song and you found yourself increasingly more curious about and interested in him.
"Why don't we give it a try?" you answered with a little grin and he smiled back, genuine and amused. You fished your phone out of your pocket. "Let's exchange numbers and arrange playdates, shall we?"
He laughed at that, mirth-fond-warmth, turning his heart song into a bright and light melody that you wanted to surround yourself with at all times. "Why did I ever think you were just a two-goody-shoes airhead?"
Now you had to laugh. "Oh, I am an airhead, believe me. There is a reason why my friends call me Cloud, but R&R firmly told me to not ever tell jokes on live television or to someone with a camera."
"They're that bad, huh?" he asked, still smiling as he saved your number and you felt ridiculously delighted at the little cloud emoji he used instead of a name.
"Worse," you agreed happily. "I'll call you later, alright?"
"Later, Cloud," he answered and you focused on his heart song, on the sweet, spring-light melody of fondness-mirth-interest for as long as you could as you walked away.
*.*.*
You met up with Silas numerous times more as the two of you hunted for clues among the heroes, the rest of the villains gathering information among the corrupt politicians and companies. 
What had started out as a curious partnership quickly grew to become an ever evolving friendship. You genuinely enjoyed Silas' company and considering his often delighted heart song, so did he.
You managed to make him laugh and he looked utterly horrified the first time you told him a joke of yours, immediately agreeing that you were never allowed to repeat it in front of a camera, ever.
"You'll be the joke of the internet, a meme in the making!" he had groaned. "Come on, let me tell you an actually good joke."
You liked him and with every day that the two of you met up, discussing things, approaching heroes with Silas as your agent and R&R playing along after you asked them to, you liked him more.
There was warmth and fondness and joy when you saw him. This curious villain who served himself but also, to your pleasant surprise, other people. He brought ruin whenever he put on the mask, but as you looked at things, you realized that he was like a wildfire.
He burnt things to the ground so other things could grow instead. And, well, some seeds needed fire and heat to come alive.
You'd never agree with him on everything, some days not even most things, but even then there was respect whenever he talked to you. It was fun to discuss your different moral viewpoints while knowing that you agreed on all the important things.
It was...good, to have him at your side. To have someone who was willing to do what it took to get answers, someone who didn't fear your songs.
Someone who trusted you.
Today he sat in your apartment, pinning up a new piece of evidence on your messy whiteboard. His heart song was content-caring-trusting and yet there was also something sweet tingeing it all. Something growing and developing and you wondered what he'd sound like as soon as those feelings finished growing.
"What is that look for?" Silas asked when he glanced at you.
"I've been lonely a lot," you found yourself saying and he blinked, briefly surprised, before he grew more serious, his heart song gentle and encouraging. "People didn't really...get me, you know? The twins like me and I love them, but..."
You offered a slightly abashed smile. "You feel like you get me, you know?"
Like he, too, knew what it meant to have powers that gave him a perspective of the world no one else had. Like he, too, had struggled with fitting in and had ultimately trashed the very idea of sanding down his edges and bending his spine to fit into the box other people wanted him to fit into.
He was unapologetic about himself, just like you were about yourself. You didn't care when other heroes or even civilians complained that you were too soft on villains. That they wished you'd give them what they deserved.
There was enough hurt in the world, you heard it after all. You just wanted to try and make the world better, which was why you would stick with R&R until your dying day.
Silas' gaze told you that he understood, a gentle, almost melancholic tinge to his song.
"I know what you mean," he murmured, looking away though you still caught a glimpse of a truly heart-wrenchingly sweet smile. "You feel like...home, as weird as it sounds."
"No, no, that doesn't sound weird at all. It sounds right." It sounded so fitting.
He smiled at you, his heart song nothing but delighted-loving-warm. "Come on, help me solve this riddle before we're out of time."
You got to your feet to join him by the board, your shoulders brushing against his. "Can't figure it out on your own, huh?"
"Dream on, Cloudy," he said with a grin.
It was a fun evening, despite the serious topic. Everything these past weeks had been fun despite the looming deadline. Maybe it was because you were a hero and you thrived in tense, high-stress situations, but every moment you spent with him you felt parts of you come alive that had grown quiet and small over the years.
It was indeed like finding home in someone else. He saw you and he had decided that he liked what he saw. 
It was only after you sent him home and cleaned up the dinner you had shared with him, humming and singing a song you had never sung before, that you realized it.
That you had fallen in love. That Silas, that Vision, had done what no one else had ever managed to do. He had found your heart and instead of holding it tightly in his hands, it felt like he was ever raising it up to the sun.
Telling it, telling you, to take flight. To demand more of the world. To demand better. To take a bit of a villain's hunger, a villain' ruthlessness, a villain's loud disruptiveness to demand the change you wanted to see.
You had no idea what to do, but you couldn't help but grin and dance and sing. Sing for yourself instead of other people. Sing because you were genuinely, truly happy.
*.*.*
"The election is tomorrow," Silas muttered, pacing up and down. "And we still haven't found out what exactly they intend to do. We're running out of time, Cloud. What are we missing?"
You stared at the whiteboard with intense focus. What, indeed, were you missing? Everyone was getting ever more tense and nervous and the villains had already discussed busting the gathering tomorrow if nothing else could be discovered.
Forcing the city to push their plans back was preferable to just letting things happen.
You wanted to avoid that, however, because you knew the heroes that would be present to both hold meet and greets and guard the event. They were all known for being harsh with villains, ruthless and brutal. It would be a bloodbath -
Wait.
You made a noise, hand patting a rhythm against Silas' arm, which he somehow understood as you raced for your phone. He was just...amazing like that. He got you. Weird noises and absent moments and strangeness and all.
You rang up R&R while Silas followed you, eyes bright and intense, heart song thrumming with anticipation-restlessness-relief. It was the relief in his melody that almost made you trip up. Because he trusted you to find the answer even before you had managed to do so.
He believed in you, fully and whole-heartedly.
It took an hour until you had gathered the information you needed.
"These hero offices were cut out of the event tomorrow. In fact, the reveal of the election is planned for when the patrol routes take as many of those heroes as far as possible from the plaza," you said, flipping the board around to scrawl across it. "And those heroes won't think twice about that, considering how many other heroes will already be there."
Silas took the pen with a wry little smile, only for you to snatch it back when you realized his handwriting was even worse than yours.
"What does that tell us?" Silas asked. "They're not part of the plan?"
"Yes, and!" You scrawled one more hero agency at the very bottom, circling it. "It tells us which hero got ignored entirely. He isn't hosting meet and greets, he isn't guarding and he isn't patrolling."
Silas caught on immediately, eyes widening and a grin spread over his face, wild and excited. "Because this is the hero behind everything. He can't guard the plaza if he's the one who's going to execute the plan."
You whirled to face Silas fully, finding him only inches away from you and you grinned. "We found him."
Silas laughed and a moment later you were pulled into a fierce hug, his heart song an exhilarating rush of awed-adoring-ecstatic. You were pulled off your feet to be twirled around and you laughed, clutching him back just as tightly, a song spilling past your lips and he suddenly thrummed with energy.
"Oh, wow, I had no idea you can do that," he said as he still held onto you. You just grinned and finished the song, every fiber of your and his being feeling fully and completely alive.
"What do we do now?" he asked, gently setting you down on your feet again. "Should we attack the office?"
You tapped your fingers on his arms, only half aware of the fact that his hands were resting on your waist as you thought. Hero offices were well guarded and they had multiple ways to call for help in case of an attack.
Besides, there was a reason this particular hero was the number one of the city and the number three worldwide. You still needed to find out what the plan was here.
You focused on Silas as an idea took shape. "Let's call the others and get everything we need. We ride at dawn."
He laughed, heart song a bright, bright adoration-loving-awed and you realized, startled and breathless and elated, that he, too had fallen in love with you.
You wished you could kiss him, you wished there wasn't something more important to take care of beforehand first.
But later, later you'd tell him, you decided as you committed his joy to memory, as the sound of his love took your breath away and made you feel like your entire being could barely contain the joy you felt.
You'd save the city tomorrow and then, for once, both villains and heroes would have a happy ending.
*.*.*
Your heart was beating fast and strong as Sorrel and Areth stretched, Vision standing beside you in all his villainous glory. You wanted to reach out and hold his hand.
"Ready, Cloud?" Areth asked, holding out her hand, Sorrel slipping into her shadow.
You could already hear the noise of the plaza a block over. The streets were downright stuffed with people, it really looked like almost the entire city had gathered, drawn in for different reasons.
Free food, their favorite heroes, a massive sale of multiple companies, a long anticipated restaurant opening, parades and the mayor's election. It was almost ridiculous how well it all worked.
You wished you could have informed some of the other heroes, but you hadn't dared to risk it in the end. Still, in case shit really hit the fan, the twins had Rescue's number and the woman was formidable and well respected for a reason. She could rally everyone else so long as someone told her what was going on.
You gripped Areth's hand and Vision did the same when she extended the other to him and there was a brief moment of complete and utter silence, before you popped out on the other side. The utility closet was a cramped little space and Sorrel unlocked the door from the outside, having slipped through the shadows.
You knew the route well from here after Silver had broken into the city library to steal archived blueprints of old buildings. Namely, the city hall. You knew where you had to go to find your way to the backrooms where everything was getting prepared for the big reveal of the election.
This was the riskiest part of the plan, since you had no idea what dangers lurked along the way and it was exactly why you needed the twins and Vision. Their powers could get you close enough to the one hero who had avoided you like the plague all these years: Starlight.
A shining beacon of a hero, beloved by the masses, always gentle and kind to civilians, righteously defending the downtrodden and he was lauded for his gracious manners even when he dealt with villains.
And if you were right, he had something horrible planned.
Like you had feared, the city hall was filled with patrolling sidekicks from Starlight's agency. After sending a last, confirming message, the rest of the villains already in place, you nodded and Vision fell silent, his heart song flickering through many quickly changing tunes.
He guided the twins, who popped away, silently taking down the first two sidekicks. One by one, your group worked its way towards your destination, moving quickly in a way that was only possible with two different kinds of teleportation powers and a man who could see the future.
"Starlight can counter me," Vision had warned you when you met him after sending Silas home, knowing very well that you'd see him at the lair.
He still hadn't told you about his identity and you had caught enough glimpses of worry-shame-fear to know that he thought you wouldn't take those news well. That you'd feel betrayed.
You'd tell him your secrets too, you had decided. When he revealed the truth about himself, you would do the same about your powers.
It was only fair, if he was brave to do the thing he feared, then you'd do the same.
"I thought someone was going to cause trouble." The ethereal voice made everyone stop in their tracks, Sorrel disappearing into the shadows with a snap and Areth and Vision taking up position beside you. They knew you didn't want to fight, after all.
They knew you needed to be uninterrupted if you wanted to sing.
"But color me surprised," Starlight continued and then you saw the shimmer of his existence, something incorporeal, like he was a distant, silver-golden starscape taking shape. Slowly becoming flesh. "I hadn't thought the softest hero in the world would ever team up with villains."
"You can't stop us," Areth said, but Starlight was ignoring her, which immediately made all your internal alarms blare. No one ignored Areth. She was too dangerous for that and even Starlight couldn't afford to take enemies lightly. For all his power he wasn't invincible.
You managed to grab her arm just in time and you realized that Vision stood very still at your side, his heart song snapping to a sudden panic-horrified-terrified. It was a jarring noise, like string instruments playing a discordant, high-pitched noise that grated on your very existence.
Your heart immediately leapt into your throat – whatever version of the future he had seen, it immediately had left him desolate. Scared. His hand reaching out to grip the back of your outfit.
"You're too late," Starlight said with a smile as he shook off the rest of his powers, stardust raining down like glitter to vanish into nothing before it could touch the floor. "I've put too much into this to fail at the last second."
Now that he was here, fully corporeal, you heard his heart song. It was overwhelming, a loud and fierce and bellowing hunger-victorious-domination.
For just a brief second, you felt like a farmer staring up at an armored and armed knight riding towards you on his massive war horse, blade glinting in the sun.
You felt like you stared up at death.
"I have become the end and beginning of all," Starlight said, his heart song clamping around you like a great beast's teeth, stealing your breath away. "And you will bow."
He raised a hand when a massive explosion rocked the building. Screams rose from outside as more and more detonations took place. His head jerked up, surprise visible on his face and that was all you needed to cling to a shred of hope, that there was still something that could be done.
There had to be, no matter what Vision had seen. His powers weren't perfect and if Starlight could be surprised, there must be something you could still do.
"Areth!" you shouted and your friend popped away with you and Vision just as Starlight lunged, the power of the universe at his fingertips – too much power. Far too much.
You knew what he was capable of in theory, you knew that all powers had limits and prices, that there were abilities that only revealed themselves in the face of death and could rarely be used outside of such dire circumstances again.
His powers had felt unchained. Like something had been broken and cracked wide open.
"What do we do?" Areth shouted as soon as she popped everyone into existence again down the hall, the three of you bolting. "Sorrel?"
Her brother didn't answer and she hissed a curse, following you as you led them down the stairs, your mind racing.
Starlight didn't actually want a fight, that defeated the purpose of bowing. That defeated the purpose of him becoming the god of everything.
For that was what he wanted, what his heart song had tried to carve into your very flesh, forcing you to listen, forcing you to bend and kneel. To accept his reality as your own -
Reality.
You jerked to a stop, eyes wide as you turned to Vision, his heart song terrified-horrified-hopeless.
"Go," you told Areth. "Help distract the other heroes, we need all the time we can get."
"Don't die, either of you," Areth hissed viciously, Sorrel finally appearing out of a shadowed corner, only to get snatched up by her as they vanished the next second.
"There has to be something we can do." Your voice came out as a whisper and you reached out to grip Vision, who clung to you like you were an anchor in a storm. "Vision, focus – Silas!"
He jerked, his heart song changing to shocked-surprised-startled. But he was focusing now, no longer lost in the throes of whatever he had seen.
"I know, I always knew." You reached out to grip the sides of his face, palms clasping cold metal and the walls around you started to shimmer silver-golden. "Silas, tell me what you saw."
"The end of everything," he whispered, voice trembling in a way you had never heard. "He's going to destroy the world. His powers aren't supposed to touch reality, but he will try anyway and the world, the universe will fight back. That's why he gathered all these people. The more minds accept his reality over fucking reality itself, the more it will give in to him."
Because the universe represented what was true and real and if he became the new truth...then that was what would happen. And no one could fight back.
"He's going to do it now," Vision whispered. "I saw it. Nothing we do can change that. We're already too late."
"How did he get that strong, can you look?" you asked and you felt him focus, felt his emotions flicker, only for something grim and resigned to settle over him.
"Nothing we can undo. He –" Vision's grip on your arms tightened. "He ruined himself for this. Cracked himself with his own powers until he could destroy all of his limits. He can only use his powers like this once, he needs to realign reality or it will kill him."
You knew that people could lose their physical limits with the help of adrenaline, breaking bones and tearing tendons and muscle in an exchange for unreal feats of strength.
You had never thought about what someone with superpowers could do if they removed any and all limitations of their powers.
"He's starting," Vision whispered. "It doesn't matter that we got away. We're too late. There are too many people here."
The ground beneath you started to shimmer and you could taste Starlight's powers in the air. You could sense him now, could sense as he walked to the front of the building, as he jumped outside to call out to the masses.
You could sense as everyone stopped running and panicking, all eyes focusing on him. His power grew thicker and more cloying in the air and you had precious seconds left, the building around you threatening to get swallowed whole and you with it.
You were not going to survive this attempt to change reality.
Until Vision gasped, gripping you tightly and suddenly you felt yourself get dragged with him, like you got jerked forward then back again and time stilled and stopped around you.
He was breathing hard, terror and panic bright in his heart song until he realized how still everything had gotten.
"Your powers," you murmured, eyes wide. "They're trying to save you."
"Us," Vision whispered back, fingers tightening on yours further. "Don't let go, Cloud." He lifted his head, looking around and you wished you could see his eyes at least one last time. "Can you hear that?"
You couldn't, but when he pulled you onward you followed. It felt a little like you weighed nothing, like the air had turned to water and you were drifting along with every step. Was this how he experienced visions?
Were your bodies going to stay behind or did you move through this version of time?
Vision lead you out of the city hall to where Starlight stood in all his glory, skin glowing and filled with stars and people staring up at him in awe.
You could see the cracks all over him, as though he was going to shatter like porcelain and if he did, he'd destroy so much. He'd kill so many. He had to stop, but you knew he wouldn't. His heart was too dark.
And then you heard it and now you were the one dragging Vision forward until you stood right by Starlight, eyes wide as you saw the song that slowly started to circle around him.
Your own powers had gone haywire you realized. Your own powers had, for this moment, torn down barriers that normally would have been there.
You had no idea if Vision's and your powers had somehow clicked together to make this happen, or if they still worked independent. Merging powers wasn't impossible, especially elemental powers could easily work together, but this...this felt like a once-in-a-lifetime kind of thing.
You listened to the song and tears started to gather in your eyes.
"Cloud?" Vision asked and when you tore your gaze away to look at him, you saw that he had yanked off his helmet. "Can you fix it?"
Your smile was wobbly and your heart broke, cracking open like a raw egg and oozing all over your insides. There was nothing but resigned pain. "I can."
His grip tightened. "What's the price?"
Because everything had a price. Starlight's unhinged powers demanded his life – unless he changed the universe itself and demanded it to keep him whole.
You had no idea what price Vision was currently paying, but looking at how he was slowly starting to tremble all over, you could guess that it was going to drain him to death if he didn't let go soon.
"Memories," you answered, a sudden grief gripping you. "Starlight will have to forget everything, it's the only way to stop him." Or he'd try the same thing over and over and over until he was dead.
Vision's no, this was Silas before you now. Silas' gaze searched yours. "And we?"
You knew the nature of songs. You knew what every melody meant, where it came from, what motivated it and how intensely it was felt. You closed your eyes for a moment, willing the tears to not fall.
"We cannot remember the song, we cannot remember this moment. We're cannot remember what Starlight is capable of and what he's doing." You took a ragged breath. "We'll forget each other."
You had to. Vision had to forget how he came to this place, what his powers were capable of and you had to forget a song like the one before you existed. Everything had to be erased, from the very beginning of his plans, to ensure Starlight would never do this again.
"What if I run?" he asked. "If I don't hear it -" He stared at Starlight, at the powers on the cusp of being unleashed in all their terrible, world shattering glory.
There was no running. He'd hear the song and it would erase everything. Everything that had led to this moment in time, everything about Starlight and his plans had to disappear so what he intended to do could never be reenacted again. By no one.
Had you known each other before this mess, enough memories would have remained, but...you hadn't. Starlight had brought you together, as little as you had known it at the time.
And everything needed to be erased so everything could be saved. Not even an inkling of Starlight's machinations could remain. This song was going to erase everything.
"No, I won't forget you. I refuse to." Silas' grip on your hand was almost painfully tight as he tossed his helmet aside and it disappeared, vanishing as it left the timeless space you were stuck in. For now. He was quickly losing strength. "There is so much I have to tell you, I wanted to tell you -"
"I love you." The words escaped you unbidden and he closed his eyes, his heart song nearly making you cry. Your own tears made your voice wobble, "You have the best heart song I ever heard, did you know that?"
"I never believed in soulmates until I met you," he answered. "I never thought there could possibly ever be someone who would become this important to me. Who felt like I was destined to meet them."
Maybe you had been. Maybe there had been a grand design in the universe itself so the two of you met, so you both could be right here at this exact moment, stopping the destruction of everything. Some things should remain untouched no matter what.
You heard soft little cracks all around you as the timeless bubble started to weaken, chunks breaking away.
"I love you," Silas whispered, pulling you close to press his forehead to yours. "I promise I will find you again, no matter what. I'll find you and I will always love you."
You smiled and kissed his cheek before your lips found each other. The kiss tasted of salt. "And I will find you," you whispered just as time shattered and you inhaled.
The song flowed like none other had from your lungs, your eyes squeezed shut. You vaguely heard Vision curse and throw himself forward, intercepting Starlight as he tried to lunge for you, a deeply wounded noise coming from the hero, an almost animalistic screech.
You sang and slowly, everything grew quiet and still. The last thing you were aware of was someone getting thrown across the plaza by a tall, powerful man and your memories disappearing like dust in the wind.
When the last sound vanished, you stood still, the world around you silent in a way it shouldn't be.
Slowly, noise filtered back, people shifting, confusion-bafflement-calm filling the air around you. You blinked your eyes open, blinking in surprise when you noticed that you stood on the front steps of the city hall.
What were you doing here? And why was Starlight on his knees beside you, looking like he had lost everything and didn't know why he felt that way?
His heart song was unpleasant but muddled. A helmet laid near you, blank and black and metallic, reminding you of something the villain Vision might have worn.
Something tickled your jaw and you reached up to wipe at it, pulling back your fingers to look at clear liquid.
Why were you crying?
*.*.*
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bvidzsoo · 27 days
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Darkness prevails
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᯽ Author: bvidzsoo
᯽ Pairing: Jeong Yunho x female reader
᯽ Warning: suggestive, cursing, violence (lots of it), maiming/marking, extreme possessiveness, manhandling, blood, beheading, death, dubious consent, morally grey subjects (you'll see what I mean, but I promise nothing like that actually happens), let me know if I forgot something cries
᯽ Word count: 25.6k
᯽ Genre: Fantasy, Royal, Dark Romance, Gore
᯽ Summary: King Jeong Yunho, first of his name, was a ruler everybody feared and nobody dared mess with. Anyone who didn't oblige to his laws, suffered the consequences. Perhaps stealing an apple seemed like a misstep that many would've overlooked, but not Jeong Yunho. Go against the laws: get punished, branded, humiliated, forever outcasted by society, and the King himself. Unfortunately, you were way too familiar with the King's tyranny, having been the subject of his torture more than once. But what happens, when once and for all, Prince San, his brother, finally decides to get rid of the cruel monarch? Will you succeed with your mission? Will you kill King Jeong Yunho? Or will he wrap you up even deeper in his sick web of lies and threats.
᯽ A/N: My wrists are about to fall off and my eyes are dry despite the eye drops I'm using, but here it is my lovelies, the first part of the Beyond the Obscure series! Guys...it's dark, I'm sorry, so yeah, take the warnings seriously, I promise I haven't written them very in detail (imo) but they are there. I think this is my darkest work so far (even worse than San's part in my pirate series) and y'all have no idea what I have planned for Seonghwa and Yeosang's part (clawing at the wall because that one will be even worse NAUR). I'd like to point out a few things before you start reading:
∞ Yunho is continuously mentioned as the King in the story or Your Grace
∞ perhaps keeping in mind the interaction between Mingi and the redhead will come in handy for future purposes *wink wonk*
∞ I hope I did a good job with this story, and I'm sorry if it sucks, I really tried to tackle this beast of a piece...and sorry for any mistakes, I always proofread but some just slip past me *sighs*
Enjoy the story and let me know what you thought of it, I'm always so grateful to all the feedback I get!! Taglist is open, so just comment on the post if you're interested in the future parts (check out the series' masterlist too to understand how the series works, thank you!) (divider)
᯽ Taglist: @seonghwaddict @thunderous-wolf @simpforyunsangho @kitten4sannie
─═☆Series M.list☆═─
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            At such an ungodly hour no lady was supposed to be roaming the streets alone, unguarded, exposed to the horrors of the slums. But some ladies had no other choice but to do so if they wanted to survive, to see tomorrow’s sunrise. Not that there was anything to anticipate or love in the Kingdom of the Fallen, ruled by a ruthless and malicious King, who slayed his people left and right whenever he pleased to do so. And perhaps that’s what ebbed me on to keep on walking, made me straighten my back to the point my muscles were straining as I made sure to become one with the shadows as I passed by the long fallen asleep households, headed towards the outskirts of our well-guarded burgh of Aurora. Don’t let it fool you, despite its name, there was nothing beautiful nor welcoming to this place, only terror, fear, and darkness. Our King made sure of that.
I tried to ignore the trembling of my fingers, but it became harder and harder to do so the closer I got to the well-concealed mansion. Large trees loomed over the gravel pathway that led to its enormous marble stairs, not one light was on inside. One would think the mansion was abandoned, but as soon as you stepped foot inside, its well-maintained state gave away the truth. Perspiration had started gathering on my brows, and I realized that underneath my pricey leather glove the skin of my right hand had started itching, begging to be scratched, but I knew doing so would cause my freshly healed wound to open up again. That wound was something I would have to live with forever, maimed, tainted for life. Marked for a wrong doing that cost the life of my little brother. It was hard not to blame or hate yourself when your sickly brother died in his sleep after you failed showing up for three days, begging and screaming to be let out of the dungeons of the wretched Castle, but my pleas fell to deaf ears, unsurprisingly.
King Jeong Yunho didn’t care about his people, and he never would. Famish and crime were at its peak despite the harsh punishments and executions. Despite the King having ears and eyes everywhere, some people managed to get away, escape unscathed, and one of those people just so happened to be Choi San, the crown prince. He fled the night his brother killed King Choi, aware that he would be next to suffer the same faith as their beloved father if he stood in his older brother’s way. Nobody really knew where Prince San went, but upon seeing his most trusted servant and Royal Guard, Sir Jung Wooyoung, around town, it became obvious that Prince San and Sir Jung were still lurking around. And despite what it seemed like, despite King Jeong being awful and vicious, Prince Choi wasn’t like him. He loved his people, he mourned with his people, he laughed with his people, and he lived for his people. Many hated him for disappearing, thinking he had abandoned us and was letting his older brother do however he wished, but many failed to understand that Prince San was powerless if it came down to a war between the brothers. Prince San didn’t have enough men to fight back against King Jeong’s tyranny. And that’s when I was summoned. Barely a day ago, a black envelope with a crown stamp on it had been slipped in my pouch without me noticing. Having opened it, I was rather surprised to find myself being summoned to the abandoned mansion, which belonged to the Royal family, on the outskirts of the burgh.
And when a royalty summoned you, you showed up without asking questions or making them wait too long. The roads were drenched in darkness, mist surrounding the narrow cobblestone streets, and smog escaped my mouth as little puffs left through my lips, heart beating even faster now that I stood in front of the dark mansion. I never fully showed my face in public, but being well past midnight without another soul out on the streets of Aurora, I offered myself the luxury of breathing in the chilly air of the night.  The moon was in waxing crescent, and averting my eyes from it, I stared up at the massive mansion and steeled my nerves, pushing away all the swirling thoughts threatening to turn me back around just to run off in the night, far away from Aurora. But even if I ran, I had nowhere to go. And even if I ran, the King’s men would find me and bring me back. I never had a choice, nor the freedom to indulge in my dreams and wishes. So, I took a deep breath, fixed the sheer scarf around the lower half of my face, and ascended the marble stairs with chills running down my spine due to the biting cold. It felt like it had seeped through my clothes, nagging at my skin, injected straight into my bones. But if I dwelled more on this feeling, I knew it was mostly the fear spreading through my blood system that made me react so strongly. And there was no place for fear tonight.
When I reached my hand out to push the front door of the mansion open, I found it already slightly ajar, beckoning me inside. My heartbeat was loud in my ears as I cautiously ventured inside, closing the heavy door behind myself, needing a second to take in the majesty of the interior of the mansion. The floor and walls alike were covered in white marble, glinting under the moonlight as the large windows had no curtains in the large entrance hall. A sturdy round table sat in the middle of the chamber, a large vase filled to the brim with flowers of all kinds sat on top of the table, in the center of it. There was a sweet scent wafting through the air, and as I ventured further inside, the cold chill present in the entrance hall slowly turned into blush inducing warmth, making me shiver as I finally started feeling my frozen limbs.
I was wandering around mindlessly, having no idea where I was supposed to go as nobody seemed to be waiting for me, my eyes straying to the walls, admiring all the expensive paintings. They were brought from lands far from ours, from a land where life was easier and happier. The Kingdom of Light, much like its name, was ruled by a Queen that loved her nation and thrived to unite the two Kingdoms. However, as long as King Jeong was our monarch, that would never happen. Faint whispers caught my attention as I came towards the end of the hall, a large door separating me from the next room. A huge painting was hung up on the wall to the left of the black door, and my jaw clenched as my eyes fixated on the family portrait, more specifically, on King Jeong Yunho. Despite him looking a lot younger in the photo, the evil glint was still present in his sharp stare, and suddenly the skin of my right hand itched again, prompting me to mindlessly try and scrape at it through the leather glove. But the whispers coming to a sudden halt from inside the room, and the faint yellow glow coming to life through the little gap under the door ripped my attention away from the young King and made me tense up as footsteps neared the door. And then, there was a click and the door was pulled open, an emotionless man, with asymmetrical eyes, stood in front of me, taking me in just as closely as I took him in.
“Sir Jung Wooyoung.” I bowed my head, keeping my eyes on the marble floor until the man made a sound of approval.
“You have arrived,” He said, voice sharp and impassive, “Come inside.”
The door was further pulled open and as Jung Wooyoung stepped aside, I stepped forward, hands clenching into fists as I tried to fight the desperate need to turn around and just run. Far away from here, from the crown prince and his loyal guard, far from Aurora. But the King would always find me, and he’d bring me back, matter not if dead or alive, he’d bring me back.
As the door slammed heavily shut behind me, I fought the need to jump at the loud sound, and instead made eye contact with the crown prince. He sat in a large chair, straight across from me, at a round table. The table was massive and could fit at least twenty men if gathered around it, but now, it was just Prince Choi, Sir Jung, and myself in the room. The blackout curtains were drawn together, its color a blood red, shutting out the gentle moonlight, masking whatever would go down in this room from the celestial. Nobody had to know what would conspire in this room soon.
“Your Highness,” I bowed forward, keeping my eyes on the carpeted floor as a low hum traveled through the otherwise quiet room, “you have called for me.”
“I have, yes.” Prince San’s voice was low, and quiet, his sharp eyes narrowed as I straightened back up. We made eye contact as there was movement behind me, Sir Jung walked past me and came to a stop behind Prince San, placing a hand on the chair’s back, grip tightening instantly, “Do you have any idea why?”
“I do not have the power to assume anything.” I answered, eyes quickly seizing the room I was in. It wasn’t awfully big, like the rest of the mansion, and it was a lot less warm in here. Bookshelves aligned the tall walls behind the prince and his guard, and a comfortable sofa was pushed up against the left wall, drenched in shadows as the candlelight didn’t reach there.
“You may speak freely with me, Miss Hong, I am not my brother.” Prince San said, teeth gritting at the mention of King Jeong, “And I do not wish to be ever like that, which is why I have called you here.”
“Don’t you deem it dangerous, Your Highness, calling me here?” I quirked an eyebrow and walked further inside, approaching the table, “King Jeong knows you are still residing in Aurora, and now you’ve given your location away to a mere civilian.”
“Are you threating the crown prince right now?” Jung Wooyoung’s voice was rough and words biting as he leashed out, vein close to popping on his forehead, eyes ablaze. He looked menacing, especially with the long sword sheathed at his hip, handle hidden by the red wool jacket decorated with golden accents falling over it.
“Wooyoung,” It was strange how soft the prince’s voice became, eyes finding the guard’s, “she’s not the enemy. You don’t have to be so on edge.”
“How do you know?” Sir Jung hissed back, eyes still on me, glaring me down. I gulped, but didn’t look away. I didn’t want them to think I was scared, even if I was.
“Miss Hong,” The prince’s attention was back on me, expression losing its coldness for a second, “May I ask you show us your hand?”
My jaw clenched as I remained silent, heart thumping fast. I wanted to tell him no, that he had no right asking such thing of me, but I couldn’t deny the crown prince’s request. And despite detesting what I had to do, with shaky fingers, I still ripped the leather glove off my hand, breathing hard as I threw the piece of fabric on the table, letting my arms fall limply next to my body. Nobody said anything nor moved for a few seconds, Sir Jung’s gaze hurriedly falling onto my exposed right hand. The room was poorly lit, yet it wasn’t hard to miss the discoloration on the top of my right hand, the skin raw and burgundy despite the long-healed wound. It was just a scar now, yet it remained fresh looking, forever a reminder of who I belonged to.
“You don’t have to trust me,” I found my voice, and perhaps I shouldn’t have been surprised to hear myself sounding so cold and harsh, “but you can trust one thing. I, in no universe, serve King Jeong Yunho. And I never will. If the scar isn’t proof enough, send me out to kill him, and I will do it with a smile on my face.”
I didn’t expect any reaction from the two males across from me, and so it surprised me when the two held matching smirks, sharing a quick look before Jung Wooyoung slowly approached me again. My eyes stayed on him, and I flinched as he gingerly grasped my right hand, raising it up. I couldn’t bear looking at the skin, so I looked at Prince San instead.
“I’m sorry for what my brother has done to you.” And his words were sincere, there was pain in Prince San’s eyes, and I knew he was sincere. I don’t know why, but despite Jung Wooyoung’s calloused hands, the way he traced my scar with the tip of his finger gingerly, made me relax a little. If they wanted me dead, they would have killed me the second I approached the front door of the mansion.
“You shouldn’t apologize for something that’s out of your control, Your Highness.” I muttered, looking at Wooyoung alarmed when he pressed his lips against my scar, the warm and plush skin lingering against mine for a second. Nobody has every touched my scar, let alone kissed it. When Sir Jung looked at me, he held the same guilt and pain in his eyes as Prince San. It was overwhelming, and so I ripped my hand out of Sir Jung’s gentle hold, and scurried to wear my glove again. I didn’t need their pity, what’s done is done.
“How many times has that devil seen you?” It was Sir Jung asking this time as he slowly stalked back towards Prince San, stopping next to his chair this time. I didn’t fail to notice the way the crown prince grabbed onto the back of his royal guard’s thigh, thick fingers digging into Sir Jung’s skin. They seemed used to the contact, both unphased, so I averted my gaze from it.
“Twice.” I answered, lowering the sheer black scarf from the lower half of my face, “I always wear my scarf in public.”
“And do you think he’d recognize you if he were to see you again?” Prince San asked, his hand slowly sneaking up towards Sir Jung’s ass. My eyebrows furrowed before I shook my head.
“No, he never got a good look at my face the second time, and I was branded three years ago.” I answered truthfully, “There’s not a world in which the King remembers the faces of those he torments.”
“You’re underestimating my brother,” Prince San’s lips pulled into a sneer, “he’s a sadistic man, Miss Hong, you’d be horrified to find out just how much he remembers and gets off to.”
I gulped, but remained silent as Sir Jung bit his lower lip when Prince San’s hand traveled even further up. There was movement to my left, but when I looked over to the sofa, I couldn’t see anything, so I focused on the males again.
“Are you willing to kill him?” Jung Wooyoung seemed to have gotten tired of going around and not getting to the point as he spat, eyes watching me closely. I didn’t hesitate with my answer.
“Yes.” I hissed, eyes turning steely as Sir Jung just smirked, leaning forward as he placed his hands on the sturdy table.
“Then I, Jung Wooyoung, Royal Guard of the Crown Prince Choi San, third of his name, task you with killing King Jeong Yunho, and ridding this Kingdom of his cruelty and horrors.” Sir Jung’s voice was laced with passion, eyes burning with an insatiable fire as Prince San rose from his seat, his strong physique making Jung Wooyoung look small for the first time.
“I promise you immunity and a respectable life once you’re done with your task. You won’t be suffering any consequences, and I will fulfill your biggest wish.” I chuckled, but it lacked humor as my eyes bore into the prince’s.
“I doubt you can bring back the dead, Your Highness.” Tense silence fell upon us, both looking like they understood what it meant losing someone dear. And if Prince San was being honest, then this would be my way out of Aurora, out of the Kingdom of the Fallen, “I shall proceed with the task, Your Highness, Sir Jung. Give me at least a month.”
“You can take even a year as long as you do your task.” Prince San said with a chuckle, looking like a stone had been lifted off his chest.
“Don’t fail us, Miss Hong.” Sir Jung didn’t let his guard down as easily as the prince, however, and the subtle look he sent my way was threatening. I understood. Failing meant death. But I wouldn’t let that happen.
“I won’t.” My voice was strong and I bowed, out of respect and a way of letting them know that I would be leaving now, I wouldn’t want to overstay my welcome.
“Take care, and send us a letter if you need anything,” Prince San smiled, just barely, “I will be keeping an eye on you still, just to make sure you’re safe and everything is working out.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.” I bowed my head again, and was slightly startled when a girl, who was smaller than myself and frail looking, emerged from the sofa. How did she manage to conceal herself so well? She looked shy as she avoided looking at me, eyes fixated on Sir Jung as she hurried towards him, “I’ll be on my way.”
“Safe travels.” The prince’s voice carried over the faint whispers of Sir Jung as I turned and stalked towards the door, intrigued by the gasp I heard. I gripped the heavy door and as I went to push it open, I dared a glance backwards, finding the girl seated where Prince San had been previously sat, her eyes round as she stared up at a smirking Jung Wooyoung. And Choi San sported the same expression as he walked behind her, hands slowly slipping over her shoulders, towards her chest. I didn’t want to witness something that wasn’t for my eyes, so I hurriedly fled the room and then the mansion altogether, mind a mess as I tried to work out the best plan to approach the King, and kill him. The waxing crescent moon witness to my new turmoil.
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            The streets of the burgh of Aurora in the daytime were a big contrast compared to its nighttime shenanigans. It was lively and filled with people going on and about their day, trying to catch the last paper at the printing house, buying resources or selling their best products at the market. Despite the wind being harsh today, it didn’t deter people from coming out to bargain, with the occasional fight breaking out in the square, rowdy men desperate to showcase who was most domineering. I remained inconspicuous as I stood behind the stand of a herbal stall, the vendor a very lovely old lady that would let me work for her while my brother was still alive. I rarely came to the market anymore, having found different ways for survival. Perhaps I was dumb for testing my luck day after day, but three years ago, I lost the reason I had been living for. And on that same day I was branded, forever belonging to King Jeong Yunho. I wasn’t afraid of death anymore; it was only a matter of time until it would catch up to me. Stealing and getting caught only resulted in a severed hand, I would still have my other one if King Jeong felt generous that day. But in order to observe the King and follow through with the task Prince San had tasked me with, I needed to be in the most populated areas, areas which the King often frequented. And the market and square were those places. The King would parade around every day with his Royal Guards, surveying the place and taking anything he liked without as much as a ‘thank you’. Everything belonged to him, he could take whatever he pleased without any consequence. It was something we had grown familiar with quite soon after he proclaimed himself the new King of the Kingdom of the Fallen. It was no secret that Jeong Yunho killed his own father to become King much faster, to assert a regime that his father, the late King Choi, would have absolutely hated and refuted. But as long as Prince Choi San was alive, there would always be a glimmer of hope for better times. Times that would perhaps come sooner than expected if I was successful with my mission.
I had been arranging the spearmint when an old lady stopped in front of the stand, leaning on a cane, face wrinkly, her sniffing loud as she stared at all the herbs displayed on the wooden table. It was cold today, yet the old lady lacked a coat that would protect her from the harsh wind. My eyebrows furrowed, and after checking that my black shawl was in place and covering the lower half of my face, I stepped forward.
“Good morning,” I greeted the lady with an easy smile, “How may I help you?”
Her eyes slowly travelled up to my face, and I was greeted with an unfortunate sight. Her eyes were clouded with cataracts, yet they fell perfectly on my own eyes, “Dear one, please help me out a little.”
Her voice was raspy and airy, so I nodded and went around the stand to approach her, the cacophony of the market too loud for her to properly hear me.
“What would you like to buy?” I asked once I have stopped next to the lady, her grey eyes focused on the herbs.
“I’m too old for my own good,” The old lady muttered with a sad chuckle, “my joints aren’t in their best shape. Do you have something to soothe the ache? Something strong and efficient.”
I hummed and glanced at the wooden table, knowing very well what would help ease the old lady’s pain a little, “Nettle will be great for your painful joints, ma’am. Would you like some?”
“Yes, please.” She nodded, eyes falling on me again, “Could you give me five leaves? That wouldn’t be more than two shillings, right?”
“No, it wouldn’t.” I reassured her with a smile as I walked back behind the stand and crouched down to grab a smaller brown parchment roll. I stood and grabbed five leaves as the loudness of the market seemed to get even louder at once, until it slowly started turning into a low murmur, becoming a mere hum. I paid it no mind as I carefully packed the nettle leaves the old lady asked for, slipping in three more without anyone noticing, before I wrapped the parchment up, making sure the leaves wouldn’t slip out, “It’ll be one shilling, ma’am.”
Despite speaking softly, my voice sounded almost too loud in the sinister silence falling upon the market, and it took me a little to realize what was happening. The old lady seemed unfocused as she had turned around, stepping back to the point she was almost pressed up fully against the wooden table of the stand. Nobody moved, nobody blinked, nobody spoke, nobody breathed. My hands clenched into fists and my leather gloves crunched at the motion, almost too loud in the deafening silence. The hooves of the horses were loud against the cobblestones and the crowd parted in the middle, scurrying to make way for the King and his Royal Guards. Despite not wanting to see them, I couldn’t help but turn my head and watch like the rest of the market, as the tall black horse rode at the front, a Friesian, carrying the King proudly on his back. Nobody would’ve been able to guess the horrors caused by the soft featured King, whose cheeks were full and tinged red due to the cold air, lips full and a dark red, eyes rather round than sharp. And yet, the emotionless expression on his face and the constant leer present on his features would make anyone reconsider their perception of the King, cowering in fear as his dark eyes would settle on you, lips pulling up in pleased smugness at the blatant fear displayed by his people. Everybody hated him, yet nobody was brave enough to finally stand up to him.
Four guards followed after him, a man with silver blonde hair and a towering height that matched the King’s following close behind with his own horse on the King’s right side, with his left side being claimed by a long-haired redhead, with eyes so haunting that they always stared right into your soul. Those two were the King’s Royal Guards, always by his side, his right hands. The King went nowhere without the two, and the silver blonde haired man was like a hound, always breathing down the King’s neck, possessive and murderous at the slightest hint of threat. One would think his obsessive behavior was concerning, but he took his job too seriously, having vowed his life to the King a long time ago. The woman wasn’t much better, but she at least was sly and coy about it, always surveying everyone and everything, sensing danger before it would happen.
The King and his guards passed by the herbal stall, and the poor old lady jumped and covered her eyes as she hung her head low, making sure she didn’t look at the King for too long. Nobody dared look at him for more than a few seconds, afraid that he’d misunderstand their curious stare and sentence them to a painful death. It wouldn’t have been the first time. But I wasn’t scared of death nor the King, and I allowed my eyes to follow his form as he came to a halt just a few stands down, where a loose-mouthed man sold jewelry. They were one of the finest you could find at the market, pricey too if you weren’t on good terms with him. I watched as the silver blonde haired guard got off his horse the second the King’s stopped, and hurried to stand next to the tall Friesian as King Jeong released the reigns, turning his head left and right slowly. The redhead followed close behind, stopping mere millimeters behind the tall guard, the two sharing a sharp glance as the male extended his hand to help the King down. The other two older guards remained on their horses, eyes surveying the market as their faces remained emotionless. I glared at the back of the King’s head sharply, his blood red gown decorated with golden accents too bright and contrasting against his otherwise black attire. His black riding breeches were tucked inside his tall riding boots, covering and protecting the King’s calves, reaching almost up to his knees, the fabric of the pants no doubt worth more than everything I’ve ever owned altogether. A thick looking black shirt clung to his broad body tightly, top buttons threatening to pop as the King rolled his shoulders a few times backwards, patting the silver blonde haired man on the back a little forcefully. The guard adorned a coat that reached mid-thigh, colors similar to the King’s, however his was rather black than red and it was adorned with red and golden accents showing his rank, and that he belonged to the Jeong Royal Court. The redhead’s coat reached down to her ankles and had intricate designs of red and golden down the back of the fabric, hair tucked under the coat.
The King moved, and I found my eyes fixating on him again, sneering to myself as he walked towards the vendor with the gemstones and jewelry. My body reacted instantly at the sight of his right hand, memory burned into my skin, quite literally, for the rest of my counted days. The King’s left hand was protected from the cold with a glove that looked like it was a soft material, however, his right hand was bare of such protection. Instead, his right hand was adorned by rings, claws, that I still could feel in my worst nightmares pressing into my skin. They were made of steel, and they were sharp, the jewelry on his fore- and middle finger sharp to the point they could cut your flesh. The ornaments clung to his long fingers like they were his second skin, part of him. The ring on his middle finger adorned a huge ruby, an addition to the piece made by King Jeong himself. His ring finger was decorated by a ring that curved to the side, caging his pinky finger in as well, which was decorated by a piece that could be compared to a miniature spear. The King’s right hand was a weapon in its own, easily able to stab and kill you just with his bare fingers. The ornaments were a family heirloom, one that only the King was allowed to wear, yet they haven’t been this sharp until they fell into the claws of Jeong Yunho. Their intricate design made them beautiful, but they carried too much terror with them for one to appreciate their beauty.
My eyes snapped up from his hand upon hearing his voice, a sound I still had nightmares about, “Chwe, did the gems arrive?”
“Your Grace,” The vendor called Chwe Hansol quickly bowed his head deeply, “yes, the gems have arrived this morning.”
“Perfect.” The King’s lips pulled to the side, the smirk making his whole demeanor more predatory. Despite only being able to see the side of his face, I knew he had a hungry glint in his eyes as the vendor grabbed a small wooden chest and opened it for the King. The redhead had started walking around while still remaining close to the King, inspecting the items the neighboring vendors of Mr. Chwe had. Everyone was tense as the King wordlessly grabbed the gemstones and inspected them from close, face becoming devoid of emotion again, eyebrows pulling into a frown slowly. I was sneering before he spoke up, well-aware that nothing would please the King, no matter how high quality it was.
“You call this a gem?” The King scoffed, irritation lacing his voice as he threw the gemstones back inside the little wooden chest harshly. Nobody would’ve handled the pricey gems like that, but when you had all the power and money in the world, one wouldn’t care, Jeong Yunho certainly didn’t. I couldn’t help the dark expression that crossed my face, eyes boring into the side of the King’s face, wondering suddenly that if I were to throw my dagger straight into his neck, how many more seconds I’d have left on this Earth before his loyal dogs would murder me in cold blood. Scarily, almost as if the silver blonde haired man was a mind reader, his head whipped around and his sharp eyes found mine, small eyes narrowing and making them appear even smaller. His impassive expression would’ve been nerve wrecking to one that appreciated their life, but I didn’t care for my safety. I had nothing left for me in this world anymore. The redhead was still roaming around, commenting at times about the quality of products, and she took a scarf without dropping any shillings to the poor vendor, her face twisting for a second before she fixed it and thanked the redhead for appreciating her merch.
“Your Grace,” Mr. Chwe found his voice, yet it sounded terrified, “These are from the Kingdom of Light, finest of its kind and most sought after—”
“Are you saying that I am stupid and can’t recognize real gemstones?” The King spat, leaning over the stand, his glaring eyes boring into the vendor’s. The man started to shake, and I grit my teeth to stop myself from interfering. If I got killed right now, I would fail the crown prince, and I couldn’t do that.
“No—no, Your Grace!” The vendor exclaimed, shaking his head furiously, “Your Grace knows better than I will ever know! I was merely say—saying what has been relayed to myself as well, Your Grace. I am ashamed of ever suggesting such thing, and I will never show my face around—”
“Now, now,” The King snickered, lips pulled into an amused, yet irritated, smirk, “don’t be a yapping little boy, are you going to cry?”
My jaw clenched and I found myself gripping onto my skirt tightly, breaths coming out shallow as the silver blonde haired man was still staring into my soul, watching my every move. His lips were pulled into a sneer, and I didn’t fail to notice his hand tightening around the handle of his sword.
“N—no, Your Grace.” Mr. Chwe lowered his eyes and shook his head, lips pulled into a thin line as his whole being shook, “Unless it’s what Your Grace wants me to do—”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” The King threw his head back and laughed, yet it lacked amusement and was laced with sheer craze, the sound sending shivers down my spine, “You’d cry for your King?”
Mr. Chwe’s head was shaking as he nodded, still staring at the ground. The King suddenly hissed and I almost took off towards the two as his right hand sprung forward, gripping the vendor’s jaw so hard his claws practically tore into his skin. The man’s face contorted in pain, yet he made no sound except the quiet gasp he accidentally let out, “Then cry for me, you pathetic fool.”
The King leered in the vendor’s face, tone laced with venom, eyes wide as Mr. Chwe watched the King stunned. I bit my lower lip as my eyes switched between the King and his royal guard, whose stare would have long killed me if that were possible. I knew what my eyes conveyed, they were laced with pure hatred and disdain, boring into the King’s profile as my hands shook in anger, threatening to bubble over any time. I was playing a dangerous game; I knew the shawl did little to nothing to conceal my raw emotions pulsating through my eyes.
“Bastards like yourself shouldn’t handle gemstones.” The King hissed just as the silver blonde haired man took off, jaw clenched and eyes set on me, ablaze. I have run out of luck, so it seems. But before he could even come close to the stall I was at, the King’s venomous tone turned to a light and almost airy tone.
“Song Mingi.” It wasn’t a question, nor a chastising, yet the guard froze instantly. His eyes never left my face as the King lazily tuned his head, dark eyes falling on his tall guard. The redhead was by the King’s side instantly, probably thinking that her fellow guardian sensed danger, ready to protect her King. The market seemed frozen in time as nobody spoke or moved, wide eyes now switching between the royal guard, Song Mingi, and myself. For a second, my heart skipped a beat thinking that I have been discovered, recognized, my right hand burning under the leather glove. But as the King’s eyes slowly trailed from his guard onto me, there was no sign of recognition on his face. I gulped, not due to nervousness, but because my throat suddenly felt dry, lungs tightening as the King’s dark eyes burned my skin, tearing me apart. The memory was too vivid in my mind despite it happening three years ago, and I realized that even if I tried my best, I wouldn’t be able to mask my hatred towards Jeong Yunho. But perhaps he was so used to that reaction that he didn’t care anymore as a sinister smile suddenly tugged at his red lips, hastily releasing Mr. Chwe, who fell back with a loud gasp. The King slowly stalked towards his loyal guard, yet his eyes never once left my face, amused smirk tugging at his lips. He was amused at the blatant hatred in my eyes, and I had to steel myself to stop the shaking of my hands at the sudden flare of anger I felt coursing through my veins.
“Stand down.” The King hissed in the guard’s ear as he walked past him, sharp claws grazing against the other tall man’s neck, but he didn’t flinch nor react at the contact. My eyes remained on the King as he neared the stand I stood at, the poor old lady gasping and stepping away with a low bow, probably bad for her already hurting and crooked back. I dared say nothing as Jeong Yunho stopped right across me, the table suddenly not enough to put the much-needed space between us. It felt like he had invaded my personal space, dark eyes boring into mine, narrowing into a blazing glare when I didn’t back down. Everyone cowered before the King, and just last minute, to try to make myself seem less suspicious, I finally lowered my eyes at the various herbs on the table, but I refused to bow. The King chuckled, but it sounded more vexed than amused. I didn’t care.
“Mingi,” He called out, voice low and dark, “grab those gemstones for me, will you?”
I didn’t glance up as I heard Mr. Chwe whimper and mutter apologies, a sharp cry leaving his lips. I could only hope the wound the King’s royal guard left wouldn’t be fatal. The King’s gloved hand suddenly entered my vision as he started touching the herbs displayed on the table, humming lowly in the back of the throat. I followed his hand with my eyes, jaw clenching when he scoffed, probably not satisfied by the scarce display of herbs. Of course, it couldn’t be compared to what he was aided with at the Castle, yet that was a thought Jeong Yunho wouldn’t be able to wrap his mind around.
“You’re running low on spearmint, little dove.” His velvety voice was mocking, and I felt his sharp gaze on my face as I gulped down the retort I had in mind, and slowly looked up.
“I will stock up on them today, Your Grace.” I couldn’t help but allow my tone to turn venomous when saying his title, “Had I known you were visiting our humble market, I would’ve brought out a wider range of herbs.”
The King chuckled, incredulity crossing his features at the blatant mockery and sarcasm dripping with every word I said, “Can you afford a wider range of herbs?”
“Yes, if those who are taking pay me for my services.” It was dangerous saying such things to the King and so openly, and I couldn’t help but glance at his royal guard as his jaw was clenched, the redhead next to him also throwing daggers my way. But surprisingly, the King just laughed, however, it didn’t sound genuine at all.
“Tell me, little dove, if I really hate a person, would this herb help with getting rid of them?” He cocked an eyebrow as he traced his gloved fingers delicately against a green leaf, slightly bigger than most. It was tucked almost underneath another plant, and I had missed that we had it displayed. It shouldn’t even be there; the plant was dangerous and poisonous even at the softest touch.
“Using a Dieffenbachia would lead to a painful and slow death, Your Grace.” I answered as the King grabbed the leaves with his gloved hand, a crazed grin decorating his lips.
“Nothing more entertaining than a slow and painful death, little dove.” The King whispered, dark eyes boring into mine as a harsh gust of wind blew through the market, pushing the shawl off my head, exposing my dark curls. Thankfully it was tied around my nape and it didn’t fall off my face as well, yet I didn’t miss the way the King’s eyes quickly racked over my newly exposed features.
“If you want them to choke to death, you can let them drink the tea ground from its leaves.” I found myself saying, my tone challenging, wondering where this conversation was leading to. The King bit his lower as he looked down at the leaves, chuckling to himself before placing them back down and holding only one still as he raised his hand up, directing it towards my face. I didn’t flinch away, I didn’t even blink as my eyes bore into Jeong Yunho’s, an intrigued glint in his.
“Would you eat it if your King asked you to?” His tone dropped to a low baritone as he tilted his head to the left, features becoming cold. My jaw clenched, and I fought my instincts of turning around and running away as a chuckle left my lips.
“I would like to know how I have wronged you, Your Grace, that you seem to hate me so much you want my dismay.” I raised an eyebrow, the King’s lips slowly pulling into an amused smirk, eyes widening as he tapped the leaf against the tip of my nose, making my palms ball up into fists at my sides. My heartrate had picked up, but I forced myself to remain calm. He could force it down my throat, of course, and then the whole mission would fail because of me.
“Killing people doesn’t always need to have a reason,” Everything in my screamed to break his face in half, but I just bit my lower lip underneath my shawl and tried to regulate my breaths, “I’ll spare you today, little dove. You could be a green witch instead of wasting your life away here, behind a stand, selling herbs to useless people that have no idea how to use them.”
The King placed the Dieffenbachia leaf back to where it initially was and leaned just slightly forward, his eyes searching mine. I huffed, smiling underneath my shawl sarcastically, tilting my head as I raised my eyebrows at him, “So that you’ll have a reason to kill me because I’m a green witch?”
Not that the King needed an actual reason to kill someone.
“No, I wouldn’t kill you if you were my little green witch, little dove.” His voice darkened just as his face did, eyes turning cold and lips turning into a hungry leer as his eyes took in my face, traveling lower, all over my body. I hated the possessiveness he displayed, even more so because I was his, he just didn’t know it. The scar burned on my hand, and it felt so hot that I almost subconsciously yanked my leather glove off my hand. But if I did that, he’d know, and I’d rather die than let the King know.
Just as I opened my mouth to refute such scenario, his royal guard stepped in, looking completely fed up with the exchange between the two of us as his expression was dark, very clearly fuming while the redhead stood a little behind, smirking at the silver blonde man. We made eye contact for a second, and she subtly nodded her head towards me, prompting me to avert my eyes and look at the King again.
“My King, we should get moving.” Song Mingi’s voice was gruff, low, and raspy as his sharp eyes pierced my skull, “We have what we came for.”
“No need to rush, my Mingi,” The King chuckled, grinning at his guard, “I think we should look around today, make sure everything is as it should be. That everyone respects their duties, and King.”
I smirked as the King threw me a glare, for some obscure reason letting me off the hook despite disrespecting him so clearly and constantly.
“Keep your eyes wide open, little dove,” He sneered, jaw clenching, “you might just fall prey to a big, bad, terrifying hunter.”
I bowed my head deeply in plain mockery as the King hissed, turning around and stalking towards his Friesian. To my surprise, and everyone else’s, the redhead walked up to me and tossed a pouch filled with shillings at my chest, smirking in amusement before she was headed for her own horse. Song Mingi seemed displeased and mad, his shoulder knocked against the redhead’s when they crossed paths, and as he mounted his horse, he threw me such a murderous look that it easily rivalled the King’s. And before anyone could even digest the fact that I just got paid by the King despite him not buying anything from me, the King and his royal guards took off, horses neighing and hoofs loud as they galloped away.
            Despite the sun settling high up in the sky blazing down on Aurora, the mist settled upon the market never quite went away, the mood of people rather gloomy to after the King’s visit. It had been only a few hours since he had waltzed in with his royal guards, yet it felt like mere minutes. The King’s presence was everlasting and blood-curdling, you couldn’t escape it even if he wasn’t there anymore. It shouldn’t have been surprising, upon one glance, he could make anyone cower in fear, even the bravest and strongest soldier. I had gone about my day, selling and conversing amicably with other vendors while making sure I paid attention to the smallest shift in the atmosphere, so, I wasn’t too surprised to hear a spine-chilling scream cut off the conversation I was having with Mr. Chwe. After the King had left, I rushed to his side and patched him up, the cut on his cheek the only damage done to him, thankfully, and it wasn’t too deep either. Song Mingi had been lenient this time, it was rare. But I suppose the King needs its gemstone supplier alive if he plans on importing more treasures at a low, and illegal, price. What the King wanted, he got, no matter whether it was just or wrong.
Everyone froze as more shouting came from the square, and as the horns were blown, my muscles tensed and my stomach dropped. An execution would take place. The air was charged with suspense as everyone seemed to be at a standstill for a second before they started rushing towards the square, vendors leaving their stands unattended, civilians pushing each other aside to reach the square faster. I wasn’t in a rush, but when the King’s royal guards started shouting at everyone to move to the square while shoving people forward, I knew I had no choice but to actually attend the execution. Not that I had a choice, everyone had to attend these shenanigans of the King. My heart started racing as a man stood on the raised platform in the middle of the square, held by none other than Song Mingi and another guard, who was gruff and angry looking. I gulped as I made sure my shawl covered my face and hair, adjusting my leather gloves as suddenly they felt like they were slipping off my hands. My scar was itching, I knew it was just my brain making me believe that the wound was fresh again, but I couldn’t force myself to stop when my eyes fell on the King, the malicious smirk on his lips morbid. He stood at the side of the platform, looking like he had never been more entertained in his life before as the man his guards held on to was wriggling around frantically, whatever he was shouting didn’t make sense anymore.
I gulped hard as the King’s eyes surveyed the crowd, but when they moved past me, I felt myself relaxing just slightly. The crowd that had gathered around was murmuring lowly, everyone wondering the reason for this execution as there were some people pushing around others in order to get to the front. I did not understand the morbid need of humans to see such gruesome scenes that were to follow in a few minutes, but I couldn’t fight against the wave as I was shoved to the front. My jaw clenched and my hands turned into fists as a man was mumbling to himself behind me, urging the King on to kill the poor civilian.
“Residents of Aurora!” The King’s deep voice boomed over the masses, crazed eyes setting on the crowd. His cheeks were tainted red still, lips redder than they were in the morning, and his black hair seemed dishevelled, “We have gathered here to teach you a lesson, again.”
The crowd froze as the King leered at everyone, stepping up onto the platform, making the civilian scream that he wasn’t guilty, that he didn’t do anything wrong. The King walked past him, but turned sharply and threw such a hard blow against the man’s jaw that I heard something crack. The crowd gasped loudly and I exhaled sharply, trying to calm the rage that was slowly bubbling up in my bloodstream. I couldn’t act out right now, it would bring my dismay, the mission would be over before I could have even started it.
“This man here,” Jeong Yunho’s gloved hands slipped through the strands of the man’s matted hair, and he yanked the man’s head back harshly as he faced the crowd, the King’s neck and ears red from rage, “tried to take something that doesn’t belong to him.”
“Your Grace, I—”
“Silence!” Song Mingi hissed and threw a blow to the man’s gut. He would’ve toppled over if it weren’t for the two guards holding him up. The redhead had sat on the raised platform, shoulders hunched forward as her eyes watched the crowd closely, uncomfortably settling on me for a second too long. I ignored her haunting gaze, and instead looked at the King.
“Will you try and lie your way out of this, peasant?” The King hissed as his ablaze eyes snapped towards the man, who had started whimpering and shaking his head, “You tried to take my riches, peasant. The King’s possessions, more specifically.”
“I—I wasn’t, I swear—” Jeong Yunho’s face twisted into something dark and sinister as he leaned down and got all up in the poor man’s face.
“Were you really not?” The King’s voice was barely above a whisper, laced with calmness. It was frightening, the whole square went silent as the wind howled between the buildings and abandoned stands. The redhead was swinging her legs back and forth, Song Mingi’s face twisted in disgust as the man he was holding had tears streaming down his face.
“I’m sorry, Your Grace.” He averted his eyes to the ground, lips shaking. It was foolish of him trying to take the King’s ornaments, but I could understand him. He was probably so hungry that he was desperate enough to do something like this. Unfortunately, it would bring his end…or perhaps it was a blessing in disguise, a way out of Aurora forever.
“Shame your apology means nothing to me.” The King whispered, releasing the man as he walked forward to the edge of the platform, the redhead’s back straightened and she stopped swinging her legs. The King briefly glanced at her and she got off hastily, standing to the side as Song Mingi directed the smallest of smirks at her, visibly pissing the redhead off. It was slightly frightening how her height almost matched the King’s and Song Mingi’s, barely a few inches shorter than the two men. She was a powerful warrior and a strong soldier of the Royal Guard.
“There’s order in this world,” The King started, voice eerily steady as a slow grin stretched over his features, “There’s laws in this world, and they have to be respected. They will be respected as long as you all are under my watch, bevans. It’s hilarious how dumb you all are to think that you could touch something that belongs to your King, let alone try and steal it. Such behaviour will not be forgiven, and thus it will be punished accordingly.”
The King paused, licking his lips, right hand settling on the handle of the sword he had sheathed around his hips. My body was tense and my heart was beating loudly, almost so loud that I couldn’t hear the King’s words anymore. Goosebumps covered my skin everywhere, and suddenly the shawl around the lower half of my face made it hard to breathe, it felt like panic was overtaking my whole being. I felt like Jeong Yunho could see through me and I’d be the next one executed today. What if he somehow just knew that his brother sent me to assassinate him? What if the redhead and Song Mingi also knew and were only waiting for the right moment to snatch me away and kill me in the most antagonizing and slow way? My breath stuttered in my throat when the King’s eyes suddenly fell on me, as if he remembered who I was after all those years.
“Usually, severing the hand you had stolen with would do the deed,” The King tsked, dark eyes boring into mine as my right hand was burning up, “But this time it won’t be no good. I have been too lenient with my people lately; I fear you are forgetting the rules.”
The crowd muttered in discomfort as everyone hung their heads low, not wanting to be the next targeted by the King. But I couldn’t look away as Jeong Yunho smirked, narrowing his eyes challengingly at me. I would be next if I didn’t succumb to him, so, I gritted my teeth and lowered my head until the cobblestones were the only thing I could see. The King chuckled as I heard his sword being drawn.
“Good,” He leered, tapping his sword against the wooden platform, “Now, watch.”
Almost at an instant, the crowd whipped their heads up as the King walked towards his two guards, nodding once at Song Mingi as the poor man started frantically begging the King to let him off this time, that he’d serve him for the rest of his life, that he could take both hands if he wanted to. Song Mingi and the other guard holding him down suddenly forced him forward, pushing his head down onto the long table, his chin hitting the table loudly.
“No, please!” The man started shouting, trashing around, but the redhead was up on the platform in an instant, pushing his back flush against the table so that he wouldn’t move around so much, “No—no! I swear! I swear I will do anything! Please, please, be merciful Your Grace, I regret what I had done, I really do! Spear me this one time! Your Grace!”
But the King stood by the edge of the table, next to the man’s head, staring down at him with dead eyes, expression soulless. Because he didn’t have a soul, because Jeong Yunho was the Devil himself, not even trying to disguise it anymore.
“You seem to have forgotten that you are my property, bevan, and I do whatever I want to you.” The King hissed, raising his sword up high, held by both hands. My heart was beating out of my chest, and there was a collective gasp as time seemed to slow down. It wasn’t my first time seeing a beheading, and I knew it wouldn’t be my last either, but the ear-piercing shrill scream the man let out before the King’s sword came harshly down on his neck, slashing his skin, was deafening, and it made my ears ring. The sound of skin splitting open, blood gushing out, the crunching of bones, and then the hard thud of something heavy made me so nauseous that I was afraid I would throw up right then and there. My eyes were glued to the headless body that now lay limply on the table, the three guards releasing it as they stepped back. My eyes were frozen on the stray head that fell onto the platform, slowly rolling forward. It brought blood in its wake, oozing out of it, out of the headless body, his once soulful eyes now wide and unblinking, and mouth open in a silent scream. The man’s eyes were now glossed over and empty, mouth making no noise anymore, yet I could still hear his scream. My body was shaking, my mind was numb, and my right hand felt like it was slowly melting off around the scar. There was someone crying in the crowd, loudly, then there were people who were gagging. Nobody was looking at the head, nobody but me. I couldn’t look away, the rage in my bloodstream forced me to keep looking at it, to lament at the feeling, to gather it deep inside myself and channel it into every particle of my body that wanted to kill the King.
I flinched as the head fell off the platform and continued rolling towards the crowd, towards me. And despite how gruesome it looked, I couldn’t look away, I didn’t want to anymore. My body and brain weren’t working in sync anymore, my thoughts were a bit hazy as my leg raised and stepped on the left cheek of the man’s head, stopping it from rolling forward anymore. A woman next to me toppled over and threw up, everyone else gasping and rushing away from us. Everyone watched, yet nobody wanted to touch it. What was so different about it now? Weren’t we all partaking in the man’s ruthless death either way? A floorboard creaked and my head snapped up, greeted by the tall form of the King as he closed in on me, eyes burning and face covered in droplets of blood. It dripped off his chin rhythmically, soaking his black shirt underneath his gown covered in the Royal colours. The smell of iron flooded my nostrils at once, almost as if the King reeked of it himself, and a sudden dizziness hit my head. But I didn’t look away, I didn’t move. The square was dead silent as the King crouched down without breaking eye contact, he was breathing through his nose hard, jaw clenched. I kept my eyes on his as I looked down at him, left hand fisting my long skirt, brushing against the metal handle of my dagger hidden underneath my thick belt. It would’ve been so easy to kill him, but the risk of failure was too high.
Suddenly, something was yanked out from underneath my foot and it hit the ground harshly, rattling my ankle, making my eyebrows furrow as the King stood to its full height, looming over me. The smell of iron was strong, but something even stronger clashed with it, the smell of vetiver. The King’s lips were parted as he breathed through his mouth, tongue poking out to wet his lips, his chocolate brown eyes blown wide with a darkness I didn’t understand yet. He looked like a man who was crazy, ready to annihilate anything in its path. I was in his path, and he would get rid of me just for the fun of it. I didn’t even realize I had been holding my breath until the King’s eyes finally left my face, he looked over my head at the shocked crowd, holding the dead man’s head up high.
“This,” His harsh voice boomed over the silent square, “is what happens to those disobeying their King!”
I felt eyes on me, I was aware of everything around myself, but I could only stare at the King’s face as everyone else looked somewhere else. Everything was too fresh in my mind, that day when he maimed me, the day I lost my brother…it was suffocating, it was eating me up. I couldn’t breathe anymore, I needed to get air despite being out in the open square. The harsh wind wasn’t cold anymore, my body had become numb to it. My figure was trembling so hard I could hear and feel my teeth clattering against each other, my lips quivering. Yet no tears clouded my eyes, heart too stale and dry to cry anymore. There was nothing except rage and fright left in my body, and the desperate yearning for freedom. The terror wouldn’t stop as long as Jeong Yunho was alive. And when I looked up at his face again, eyes shaking in blind rage, I was surprised to find the same expression on the King’s face. He was sneering, cheeks red and nose flaring as he glared me down, his hand holding the head shook. He wanted all of us dead, and all of us wanted him dead.
My hand tightened around the handle of the dagger, and if I closed my eyes, I could everything play out in front of me. All I had to do was yank the dagger out from underneath my belt, grab onto the King’s gown and yank him closer to myself, pull him down so that we’d be eye-level so that I’d stare into his eyes full of hatred while I plunge the dagger deep inside his neck, cutting his artery. Blood would gush out, spraying on me, coating me in his royal blood, one that was red instead of blue and tasted of iron, just like of the man’s he’s killed. I wanted to stare him in his dark eyes as the life left his, wanted to hear him gargle on his own warm blood, wanted to hear his gasp for air helplessly as everyone watched him fight for his stupidly mortal life. I wanted him to suffer, to feel like everyone he’s ever hurt or killed. I wanted him to shake in terror as his life slipped away from him without him being able to do anything about it. I wanted him to beg to be speared, to be saved, to be forgiven. I wanted him to crumble at my feet and clutch at my legs, grip loosening the harder he fought to stay alive. What a stupid mortal this King was.
Powerless, defenceless, helpless.
“Scatter around everyone!” Song Mingi’s harsh and raspy voice boomed through the square, sharp eyes frightening everyone away, “Go back to your stands!”
There was a promise in the King’s eyes before he turned and threw the head onto the platform, some men from the pub rushing over to clear the platform. And I was walking away stiffly, hand still clutching my dagger as I tried to ignore the painful itch of my scar. It felt like daggers were thrown towards me, and I didn’t have to look back to see the King, the redhead, and Song Mingi stare at my retreating form. I didn’t have to look back because I knew I had made myself the King’s target, a price on my head if I were to misbehave even in the slightest bit. And I didn’t have to see or hear the King as his lips moved, words hushed as he instructed his trusted royal guard to keep an eye on me, suspicious of my identity and intentions.
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            Once the devil catches you, you can’t escape its clutches ever again. He holds you down, robs you of your soul and sucks the life out of you until you’re nothing but a shell of what you once used to be. He sucks you dry of your life essence; he robs you of the light in your eyes, of the love harboured inside of you, of all of your joy, of the will to continue living. And once he’s done with you, he leaves you alone in this world to rot away, to suffer, to cry, to hate, until your heart is nothing but a rotten fruit. A damned fruit.
Forbidden, tempting, dangerous.
If famish wasn’t such a strong state of mind, so strong that it consumes your thoughts in its entirety, the damned fruit would’ve remained untouched. But when famish mingles with fear and pain, it leaves you desperate enough to go to lengths that you know once caught would make you suffer.
There was nobody but myself to blame as I was veered inside the cold Throne Room, heart pounding and eyes tear filled as people moaned and groaned in pain, a line consisting of five people in front of me. The grip on my right arm was so painful and so tight that it probably had already cut off my blood flow, and I couldn’t fight it off. I was frail and small, a man twice my size and height could easily do whatever to me. And yet, despite knowing that I might not see another sunrise, all I could think about was my sickly brother laying in his bed, struggling to breathe while hungry. I had almost made it outside the market when I heard someone chase after me, shouting as they closed in on me. Somebody saw me take the damn apple, and they snitched to the Royal Guard, to Song Mingi. All I wanted was to feed my sick brother, to prolong his time in this world and fulfil one wish of his. He just wanted to eat an apple.
My body trembled as the lady at the front of the line wailed in pain, choking on her own screams as the smell of burnt skin was horrid in the room, bringing acid into my throat. I was nauseous, I felt like passing out. I tried to yank my arm free again and bolt out of the Throne Room, but the guard holding me just hissed and yanked me forward as the sobbing woman was dragged away, hand cradled to her chest. I couldn’t look, I was too afraid. I knew what would happen to me, everybody knew what would happen to them if they dared steal, but I didn’t want to accept it yet. I just couldn’t. If the King branded you, you were his for eternity.
The Devil would find you in his next life, and he would claim you again as his. He would make you suffer; he would torture you and laugh while you beg for forgiveness.
I jumped as a man at the front started begging loudly, falling to his knees as his arm was forced onto the marble table, the fireplace blazing the closer we got to it. There were only three more people in front of me. The man started crying, trying to free himself, but the King’s laughter echoed in the vast Throne Room, and then the man’s scream was so loud it made my ears ring. I fought against the grip on myself again, breathing getting shallow as my heart was beating so fast, I thought I would die from heart failure before the sizzling metal rod could even touch my skin.
“Stop whimpering, you stupid bitch.” The tall man holding me hissed, sharp eyes boring into mine as he loomed over me with his lanky form. He was frightening, he was the Devil’s right hand, he was his Beelzebub. It felt like the room was closing in on me despite its grandiose size, like it was about to swallow me whole as perspiration gathered on my brows, slowly dripping down my temples. I couldn’t breathe when another man was maimed, marked for life, screams echoing in the vast chamber. My captor just smirked as the fear I felt reflected off my face, pulling me closer towards my tormentor. I wanted to run away, I wanted to save myself, I needed to return to my brother, but I wasn’t strong enough.
The King’s face was twisted in a sick expression as he pressed the metal rod into another man’s hand, his victim having long fainted. The man lay limply on the floor when the guard holding him up released him, and the King kicked him, but the man didn’t budge. The King’s jaw clenched and he groaned, looking at the guard who had held the man as if he was exasperated by his incompetence.
“Take this scum away, you fool!” He hissed, dark eyes settling on his guard as he bared his teeth at him. The King was even scarier in person, from up close, in the Throne Room. His red cheeks and burgundy tainted lips could’ve fooled anyone who didn’t know him. Why did a Devil like him have such soft features when all he did was hurt and hurt others, terrorize them and make them wish they were never born? Why was someone with an Angel face a creature so dark everyone feared its name and existence? My body shook uncontrollably as I realized I was next in line. Time stood still for a second, everything disappearing around me as my ears rung and eyes saw white only. And then, as my captor tugged on my arm, everything hit me at full force.
My rapid heartbeat, the thumping of my head, the desperation crawling up my throat, the need to save myself, I had to get out. I had to return to my brother, he just wanted an apple. Why was life unfair? Almost as if awoken from a dormant sleep, adrenaline kicked hard through my system, flooding my whole being like I didn’t know it was even possible. My lungs expanded and muscles tensed, and when Song Mingi tugged on my arm again, barely three steps away from the marble table, I jumped. I jumped and I kicked at the man’s chest, scratching his neck and making him yelp in pain. Yet he never released me, but I wasn’t giving up. I had to save myself, nobody else would do it for me. And so, I kicked when I was hoisted up by my waist, I screamed at the top of my lungs, I even punched whoever dared touch me. But as if I weighted nothing, I was thrown on the marble table, back hitting it hard, head crushing into the cold table. I gasped, vision fuzzy for a second, until a dark and sinister laugh snapped me back to reality. I froze when I realized I was being held down against the table by Song Mingi, expression so dark I would’ve recoiled if I could’ve. His jaw was clenched and his gaze was so sharp it could’ve cut me if it were possible. But the King, Jeong Yunho, he was calm. He looked the opposite of what his Royal Guard looked like, and something dropped deep in my stomach.
The King looked entertained by the fight I was putting up; he was enjoying it. My lower lip quivered as a hand decorated with rings, metal ornaments, reached out and lightly traced my bottom lip. I couldn’t breathe as my eyes were captivated by Jeong Yunho’s dark ones, pupils dilated as he sneered, a crazed look crossing his features as I gasped for air, trying to catch my breath. The King gripped my jaw tightly, so tightly that I thought he’d break it in two, but what was even more painful were the sharp ends of his rings cutting into my skin. I whimpered as I tried to pull my head away, but I was immobilised by Song Mingi, who was smirking as he watched the exchange.
“Oh, little dove,” The King whispered as his eyebrows furrowed, mock concern crossing his features, “Look at how frightened she is, My Mingi.”
The royal guard’s eyes turned even darker, a predatory look crossing his features as he chuckled, hold on me tightening just a little more as my body started shaking more violently, breathing loud as I breathed through my nose. The King’s smirk matched his guard’s, and he released a long sigh, making me whimper when he dug his sharp claws more into my skin, something hot prickling down my jaw and my neck, disappearing underneath the neckline of my black dress. The King’s eyes followed the drop of blood, and he closed his eyes for a second as he took a deep breath. When he opened his eyes again, a look so evil was present in his eyes that I shook my head at him involuntarily, begging him wordlessly to spare me, to let me go just this time.
“Oh, little dove,” The King whispered, pursing his blood red lips, suddenly releasing my jaw as he grabbed something. My heart raced faster than before, if that were even possible, and I shook my head as I felt sobs bubbling up my throat.
“Please, please, please,” My voice was hoarse and shaky, my mouth struggled to form the words I so desperately tried to speak, “My brother is sick, please.”
“You know the rules, little dove.” There was almost something like sadness tinging Jeong Yunho’s voice as his mouth pulled to the side, eyes staring off into the blazing fire. My jaw clenched as I looked at what he was holding, and my stomach coiled in even more fear. I couldn’t let this happen, I just couldn’t.
“Let me go, I promise I will never do it again, Your Grace.” I begged, hoping that I could get to him somehow, but the King just hummed as if he wasn’t truly listening to me. I was terrified, but I couldn’t help but feel wronged. If the King provided us with everything we needed, with sufficient food, then we wouldn’t have to go out and steal as a means of survival. He was the one forcing us into doing these things, and yet he was the one punishing us for something he would never change. It was unfair, and I couldn’t help but soak in the sudden anger that flared through my body, making me fight against the royal guard as he pinned my right against the marble table, holding me down by my shoulders with his other hand.
“Why should I pay for something I’m forced to do because you have never once helped your people, Your Grace?” I snapped, glaring at the side of the King’s head. He didn’t react, and I couldn’t remain silent anymore, “Why are you punishing me when you’re the one forcing us to live in poverty and famish, My King?”
I winced when Song Mingi’s elbow dug into my shoulder painfully, but I didn’t stop glaring up at the King as he looked borderline bored, uninterested in what I had to say.
“My brother is dying because of you!” I screamed, losing my sanity as the King didn’t react, only chuckled quietly, “My brother is dying because you took away everything from us and forced us into the slums. My brother is dying because you hold people in such terror that not even an apple can be gifted anymore. I stole that apple, because nobody would give it to me anymore out of kindness. While King Choi was alive, the Kingdom was flourishing. Everyone was happy and content, everyone enjoyed life. You—you are no King, Jeong Yunho—”
“Shut up, wench!” Song Mingi’s face was suddenly looming over mine as he screamed in my face, his whole face red and enraged as I stared back at him wide eyed. My heart was racing and I started trashing around violently, trying to fight the guard off again, but to no avail.
“My Mingi,” The King’s voice was light and soft, head turning to glance down at us, “don’t rile yourself up over the words of a poor peasant.”
“But—My King, she’s—” The guard looked shocked as he stared at the King wide eyed, seemingly confused.
“A stupid, confused, little girl,” The King chuckled, looking down at me with pity on his face that made me sick to my stomach, “she doesn’t know better. Perhaps this will teach her a lesson for once and for all.”
My eyes widened when the King’s hand moved, the sizzling hot rod pulled out of the fire, getting closer and closer to my body as the King moved agonizingly slow, taunting me by the large grin on his face. I whimpered and bit my lower lip, aware that Song Mingi was holding me even firmer than before, jaw set tight as his eyes were glued onto the King.
“No—” I stuttered, gasping for air as the King lightly grazed my hand with his gloved hand, “No! Don’t—don’t touch me!”
A serene smile appeared on his lips, looking into my eyes with a look that made me feel like a small child who had misbehaved and was now getting lectured for it. My eyebrows furrowed as I tried to wriggle myself free, trashing my legs around and trying to push Song Mingi off myself, but his strength was incredible, and I was too frail to even as much as make him budge, “Let go of me! I didn’t do anything wrong! Don’t touch me!”
My throat hurt from my screams, but I wouldn’t give up. I would never, I had to get back to my brother. I couldn’t let that iron rod touch my skin; I’d be the King’s forever. I couldn’t let the Devil bound me to himself, I just couldn’t. I’d never be free again, I’d never be able to leave Aurora, “Now, if you stop throwing a fuss it’ll hurt less, little dove—”
The saliva that had gathered in my mouth landed on the King’s cheek as I spat at him, nose flared and eyes wide in rage and fear as my lungs heaved for air, “You’ll burn in the depths of Hell for—”
The iron grip around my throat rendered me speechless in seconds, before I could finish my curse. My eyes bulged as I clawed at the large hand wrapped around my neck with my left hand, Song Mingi’s grip the last thing I’d feel before I’d meet my death. The King just watched us, he didn’t blink, he didn’t react. His lips twitched, but he said nothing as my spit slowly dripped down his cheek, “My Mingi.”
And before I could even wrap my mind around the sudden oxygen rush in my lungs, a searing pain shot through the top of my right hand, so hot and so painful that a scream was instantly ripped from my hoarse throat. My back arched and fingers scraped at nothing as my right arm was still held down by the guard, the King’s eyes boring onto my face as he watched me frail around in excruciating pain. The smell of burnt flesh was disgusting and it made me gag knowing that it was my own flesh burning, branded by the Crown’s emblem for life. My vision went white for a second as the rod was still burning into my flesh, it felt like it would go through my hand at any given moment, creating a gaping hole in it. I heaved for air as I couldn’t scream anymore, body shaking in shock as suddenly the King smirked, yanking the rod off my hand. A loud sob ripped through my body, right hand shaking so badly that it felt like it was an alien limb, not controlled by my own body. The restricting hands were gone from my body, and I was afraid to look at the damage done. I was on the brink of passing out and throwing up at the same time, when suddenly the King’s gloved hand was in the air, and the next second it was connected to my cheek, sending my head flying to the side. The slap echoed in the vast room, and my sobs instantly stilled as my curly hair fell over my face, shielding it from the eyes of the two tyrants. My body stilled, yet my right hand never stopped shaking. The pain was searing, pulsing, traveling from my hand up to my wrist and my whole arm, making me grit my teeth as I tried not to cry out. It hurt so badly that it made me want to claw at the scorched skin.
“You’re mine, little dove,” The King’s dark words were whispered in my ear, voice deep, “and if you try to run, I will find you, and I will kill you with my own hands.”
“Burn in hell.” I managed to grit out through my teeth, throat feeling like sandpaper. The King chuckled; sound high pitched as I heard the metal rod being thrown onto the marble floor of the Throne Room.
“She’s a handful, My Mingi,” The King mused, and I felt a gloved hand grip my right thigh as I was veered off the table. I managed to sit up last minute and save myself from tumbling onto the floor, “Take her to the dungeons, let’s teach her another lesson for being disobedient and trying to curse her King.”
My eyes widened, desperation clawing at my bones as I tried to push the guard off, but he just grabbed my arms and tied them behind my back before I could even as much as protest. My head was spinning and it was a little hard to realize what exactly was happening, the pain coming from my hand the only thing I could focus on as Song Mingi made me walk, veering me towards some stone stairs at the back of the Throne Room. Yet, I was aware that I needed to go back to my brother.
“No, no, no—my brother—” A sob cut me off as I tried to plead with Song Mingi, but he wasn’t looking at me anymore, expression stone cold as I cried harder, “He’ll die, please!”
I was yanked back by my hair and forced to stop as Song Mingi breathed hard through his nose, eyes burning as he glared at me sharply, “I do not understand why My King spared you, but if you won’t shut your fucking mouth, I will gut you right here and right now. Then, you’ll join your brother you keep wailing for in Eden.”
I gasped as I shoot up, clutching at my chest and right hand shaking from the dull ache coursing through it, sweat covering my face and neck. My heart was beating frantically as I gasped for air, eyes searching my surroundings wildly. It was dark around me, but the moonlight shone through the opened curtains. The little candle I had lit before going to bed had burned out, and the sturdy wood of my bed made my back ache. I was safe. I was in laying in my bed, in my pathetic excuse of a cottage, far away from the Castle and the Throne Room. I tried taking deep breaths, tried slowing my heartbeats, tried to reason with myself that all of that was just a dream. But it wasn’t, it was a reoccurring nightmare of that cursed day. It made me miss my brother even terribly more, and as my eyes shifted towards the small dresser I had across from my bed, my eyes landed on the sketch of the King given to me by Sir Jung. Fury flamed inside my chest as my left hand slipped underneath my cold pillow, and in a swift movement, I pulled my dagger out from underneath and flung it at the sketch as a scream ripped through my lips. Jeong Yunho will pay for everything he’s done.
            It had been two weeks since the beheading in the square, two weeks of me spying on the King to my best capacities. It wasn’t easy to remain unseen, but I managed to sneak by his Royal Guards just fine each time. Song Mingi and the redhead weren’t as attentive as they thought they were. Perhaps the King wouldn’t sleep so well at night knowing that his most trusted guards were incapable of sensing danger and noticing the littlest changes around themselves.
The King’s schedule was quite simple and easy. He left the Castle grounds early in the morning to go on a hunt in the forest surrounding his estate, then he’d go down to the market and parade down the wealthier parts of Aurora. It wasn’t too often that he went anywhere else but straight back to the Castle once he was done agonizing his people in the streets, however, he had gone once or twice dangerously close to the mansion Prince Choi and Sir Jung inhibited now. There was also a time when the King was headed to the slums, to a shop famous for its otherworldly businesses, meaning witchcraft. The King wasn’t opposed to it as long as the witches served him, and him alone. Anyone who dared use their knowledge against the King would be burned on a rug, in the square. There had been witch hunts before, they used to be more frequent while King Choi was the ruler as he was opposed to anything that dealt with darkness, however, Jeong Yunho wasn’t like that. He embraced the dark and he craved the power that came with it, a false sense of immortality laying within him. It only took me two days to realize that the King was plotting something, something that was kept hush-hush and a secret from even his two most trusted guards. The King had let them go back to the Castle one afternoon and then he galloped out of Aurora, only returning the next day. I couldn’t go after him, and curiosity ate me up when the next day the King had gone to the same witchcraft shop, staying in there for hours, looking pale and almost ghostly by the time he finally left the shop. If it weren’t for Song Mingi, who was at an instant by the King’s side, he would’ve crumbled to floor and fainted. The King was doing something very highly illicit, and I needed to find out just what. Both for my own sake, but also to help Prince Choi and Sir Jung in taking the Crown from Jeong Yunho.
Tonight hadn’t been different from the King’s daily shenanigans, however, for a change, the King had gone to a run-down pub, located a little bit too close to the slums. He was joined by his two loyal guards, Song Mingi and the redhead. They wore long black gowns to hide their identities as they slipped past the dark shadows coating the streets, the lamplighters not bothering to light the candles in this part of Aurora. Of course, that did not come as a surprise. The only adequately lit parts of our burgh were the market and square, where the royal guards would march around to check if the lamplighters were indeed doing their duties. Nobody cared about those suffering outside of the richer parts of Aurora, nobody cared about people like me.
I pressed closer against the cold brick wall of a rickety hut, barely holding itself up. Many houses looked like that in the area, and it was a truly saddening sight, especially when families with lots of children were forced to live in such conditions due to the King taking everything from them, leaving them to the rats. I tried not to think of those people, it made me remember my brother, and tonight I had to focus. I needed to get closer to the pub somehow, to gain more intel on whatever was going on inside, of what the King was up to once again. But by the time I gathered my courage and came up with a flawed plan, the door to the pub was kicked open and a drunk man stumbled outside, followed by two tall gowned figures. The drunk man was loudly whistling and he stumbled on a misplaced cobblestone, roughly crashing into the side of the pub. He howled in pain, but I paid him no mind as the tall figures turned the opposite way of the drunken man had started tumbling towards, and started walking. Their pace was fast, almost as if they were trying to get away from something.
I took a deep breath and remaining in the shadows, I crept after them, eyes fixated on their tall figures. I kept a few good meters between us, and I made sure to keep my footsteps light, so that they wouldn’t accidentally hear me. The sky was clear for once, and the moonlight was your only guide through the dark streets. For once, I was grateful that the lamplighters didn’t perform to their full capacity and left the slums unattended, making my job so much easier right now. I tried to decipher who was who, but the King and his Guard’s similarity in physique was a scary realization. Perhaps Song Mingi’s shoulders were wider and stance firmer, but I couldn’t say for sure. Especially when their strides seemingly were the same. I couldn’t tell the King and his Guard apart from behind, and I felt anxiety crawl up my throat as I prayed to God that the two wouldn’t separate.
The long street we had been walking down came to a crossroads soon. Going to the left would lead you back to the prettier and cleaner district of Aurora, however, turning right would take you towards the dense and haunting forest, towards the mansion Prince Choi and Sir Jung inhabited. As the two men took a left turn, I came to the alarming realization that the redhead was seemingly nowhere, and she had arrived with them to the pub. Could she have stayed back? Had the two men gotten rid of her? That sounded absurd, everybody knew those in the Royal Guard gave their lives to the King, and the redhead was one of his most devoted soldier, she surely wouldn’t have committed treason against someone she so blindly worshipped. But then where was she? My heart was thumping wildly in my chest as I had started glancing behind myself, paranoid that I was also being followed, probably by the redhead. If they were to catch me now, I would most certainly die as they outnumbered and outpowered me easily. I might have gotten stronger over the past years, but I still remained with a smaller built. And I was no warrior, I lacked the skills they have mastered a long time ago.
The streets turned narrow once again as we got closer and closer to the richer area, cottages in better conditions littering both sides of the street. There were very few candles still alight in the houses, and I had to be more careful as the candle lighting of the streets was better in this area. I pulled the shawl tighter around my face, and made myself smaller as the two men continued walking, but faster than before. I had to run, almost, to keep up with them. My breaths left my mouth in short puffs and as the two men rounded the corner, the main street leading them back to the Castle, I followed suit. However, I almost yelped as I crashed against a hard body, sending me backwards. I instantly panicked, eyes wide in fear as my left hand went to grab my dagger, but the man that I had stumbled into was neither the King nor Song Mingi. It was just a drunken civilian, looking borderline sick. His eyes were squinted and as he tried leaning closer to get a better look at my face, I grabbed his head and pushed him to the side, making him stumble. If I wouldn’t have caught his arm quickly, he would’ve stumbled to the hard cobblestone covered road. I have underestimated his state, and I took pity on him as he looked confused.
“Go home, old man, it isn’t safe out here.” I snapped at him; eyes boring into his. The man just blinked and then nodded once, clumsily taking off again, stumbling into every possible bench and bush he could. I shook my head and quickly rounded the corner, hoping that the distraction wasn’t long enough to make me lose my targets. But, to my misfortune, there was only one tall figure walking down the long street, their pace a lot slower this time. I gulped and pulled the neckline of my own gown tighter around my shoulders, heart beating fast as I hoped the man I was following was indeed the King himself, and not Song Mingi. But I couldn’t be sure, and I was helpless as I followed after him. He was a little ahead, a few good steps, and I refrained from closing the gap again, hesitant to give away my presence just yet. If it wasn’t the King, then I had no reason to follow his Guard, he was of no use to me. My eyebrows furrowed when the tall man took a right turn, going down a street that wasn’t leading towards the Castle anymore. What had they planned? Looking behind myself, left and right too, I made sure I wasn’t followed as I quickly ran down the rest of the street before rounding the same corner the man had, gripping the handle of my dagger. It was a narrow backstreet that connected to a dirt road which led down to a small field if you continued walking left, however, it met with another even shorter path, which was a dead-end behind a fancy Inn. The man continued walking, pace once again hurried, until suddenly a black shadow leaped from the side of a building, knocking the tall man into the narrow dead-end. My eyes widened as I froze in the middle of the street, heart pounding in my chest. What was happening? I should’ve turned around and left, but I had to know whether it was the King or Song Mingi getting attacked in the middle of the night. And so, I pressed myself against the brick wall of the Inn and crept to the edge of the building, peeking my head around the corner, just barely.
The unmistakable silver blonde hair was glinting underneath the moonlight as the hood of Song Mingi’s gown had fallen down, and I hissed in displeasure. I had been fooled. I wasn’t following the King, but Song Mingi. So where had the King gone then? What was he up to again? Or was Song Mingi just getting frisky behind an Inn after a night spent at a pub getting drunk? My question was quickly answered as a hard blow was thrown against the guard’s jaw, sending his head in the opposite direction. The guard hissed and suddenly sprung forward, hand wrapping around the throat of his attacker. But the attacker was quick to fight back, and the person’s nails dug into Song Mingi’s wrist until he was forced to release his attacker. The person grabbed the collar of his gown and pinned him against the wall, face leaning dangerously close to Song Mingi’s. The height difference was minimal between the two, and my eyes widened as the person’s hood slipped from her head, revealing her red hair. What were Jeong Yunho’s royal guards doing in a dead-end, mauling each other around?
“You complete scum!” The redhead’s voice was shaky, laced with venom, “How dare you go to our King and say such lies about me?!”
Song Mingi remained unmoving, finally having given up fighting the redhead. Instead, he leaned his head against the tall cement fence he was pressed up against, and smirked.
“I see My King has let you know about the little change that’s happened.” I watched as the redhead’s grip tightened even more around Song Mingi’s gown.
“I was supposed to go on that mission, Mingi.” The redhead pressed; tone hard.
“And now it’s me going, foxy.” Song Mingi chuckled in amusement, and I heard the redhead let out a frustrated yelp. I pressed myself against the brick wall, turning away from the scene. I could hear the two guards throwing insults at each other, their voices gradually getting louder, but I wasn’t interested in their quarrel. I was here for the King, and I had lost him. Now I wouldn’t know if he was headed back to the Castle or off to doing something unlawful again.
I sighed and rubbed my eyes for a second, gathering my thoughts and energy to head back to the slums, to my pathetic excuse of a hut. The air was chilly again, and I was thankful for the thick gown Prince Choi had sent me three days ago, a small note saying to ‘dress up well, it’s getting colder day by day’ placed on top of the heavy garment. I was thankful, and more than grateful for the gift sent by the Prince. I had nothing to repay him with, but perhaps getting rid of the King was the biggest treasure I could offer to the Prince right now.
I was headed down the short alleyway I had just followed Song Mingi down, meaning to go back onto the main street and then head back home. However, before I could even round the corner fully, gloved fingers curled into the fabric of my expensive gown and yanked me around the corner, throwing me against the bricked wall. I gasped as the wind was knocked out of my lungs, head hitting the wall loudly, making me groan as it shook my skull. As I tried to regain my bearings, I felt the gloved hand slip up towards my throat, long fingers wrapping around my throat and squeezing. I froze, left hand shooting up to hold onto my attacker’s wrist as my eyes finally cleared and were able to focus on the one holding me. And it was none other than Jeong Yunho, the King himself. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were mere slits as he glared down at me, towering over me due to his great height. The pressure around my neck grew stronger and I gasped for air, eyes widening just a little, trying to control the panic raising in my whole being. Being immobilised by the King felt too familiar, I couldn’t help but respond with panic as memories of the day I had been marked by him tried to resurface, remind me of the pain I had felt under his hands.
“What do you want?” The King hissed, lowering his head until he was eye level with me. I tried to gulp, but it was hard. My grip tightened around the King’s wrist, nails digging into his leather glove. I didn’t answer him, and even if I would’ve tried to, the way his hold was tightening stopped me from doing so.
“Who are you, peasant?” The King snapped and leaned even closer; eyebrows furrowed as his eyes travelled all over my face. He wasn’t able to see much of my features, but I knew he could see my eyes just well, and so I glared at him. My heart was racing and I tried to push his hand off, but it only made him squeeze tighter. My lungs started burning, the King was slowly choking me, antagonizing me even now.
“Speak up, wench.” It seemed he had realized I was a woman, disgust coating his features as his hot breath fanned over my cheeks. I grit my teeth and tried to push the King backwards, but he wasn’t budging. Dark sports started covering my vision, and I tried not to gasp for air, refusing to show weakness in front of him again. But as his right hand raised, the sharp edges of his ornaments grazing against the little exposed skin I had, I knew I had to do something. His ring clad fingers gripped at the shawl and my eyes widened more as I realized he was about to yank it off my face. I couldn’t let him see me; it would compromise the whole mission. In my panicked state, I did the next best thing I could that came to mind. I turned my head and bit his exposed right hand, biting through the material of my shawl. It probably wasn’t as painful as it would have been if my shawl wasn’t in the way of my teeth, but the King still hissed and ripped his right hand back, looking surprised. It allowed me little momentum to shake his grip off my neck too as it had loosened, and I lived with the opportunity, grabbing his arm and yanking it off myself. Before the King could fight back, I sprung forward and pushed at his strong chest, making him stumble back a few steps as he didn’t expect my attack.
“Who sent you, little dove?” He leered, eyes ablaze as a smirk slowly slipped onto his lips, looking like he had no intention of holding me again. Yet, he took two steps towards me, watching me like a predator watches its prey. I gulped, suddenly feeling helpless, just like the day I had been held down against the marble table, marked and maimed. I felt like that little girl again as my hands started shaking and mind got clouded with memories, making it harder to breathe through the shawl. The pain I had felt that day suddenly felt too vivid, too real, as my right hand burned, the Crown’s emblem forever burned in my skin. All the King had to do was yank my glove down and see for himself. He would’ve taken me back to the Castle and killed me, or worse, tortured me until he became bored of me.
“If you don’t speak now, I’ll kill you.” The King said in a light tone, smile spreading into a wide grin as his eyes glossed over with darkness. I gulped and steeled my nerves, reminding myself that I wasn’t that defenceless little girl anymore. I wouldn’t sit around and mop as I wait for Death to take me away. I have become stronger, both physically and mentally, and I had a mission. A mission which placed the fate of the Kingdom of the Fallen in my hands.
“You’ll kill me even if I speak.” I hissed, glaring at the King as he started laughing. There was nothing amusing about what I said, it was the mere truth. And as he extended his ring decorated hand towards my face again, I pulled my right arm back and swung it towards the King’s cheek with all the force I could muster. I was breathing hard as my gloved hand made contact with the King’s cheek, and I’ve never felt anymore more satisfying than having the King’s head snap to the side as my fist connected with his red tinged cheek. The night was quiet and my punch was loud. My heart was racing as a huge grin spread onto my lips, a grin the King couldn’t see and wouldn’t see as I suddenly took off, sprinting away. I was fast, but I knew they would catch up with me sooner than later, so, upon spotting vines coming down the side of a smaller cottage, I gripped onto them and climbed the wall as fast as I could. My heart was racing as I took off running again, hopping from roof to roof, praying that it wouldn’t give out underneath me as some felt a little too loose. I was also praying that the roof tiles wouldn’t slip underneath my weight, sending me tumbling to the cold and dirty ground.
I could hear the King and his two loyal guards chase after me, but it seemed like neither could climb onto the cottages, offering me the little advantage I needed to get away tonight. And knowing that I managed to instill even a little pain in the King would help me sleep better tonight.
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            Tonight had to have been the most nerve wrecking night of my whole life as I walked past the tall guards at the heavy front doors of the Castle. The air was warm as I stepped further inside the vast hallway, scenery way too familiar. I tried to remain calm and collected as a butler stepped closer, an inviting and warm smile on his lips, as he helped me slip out of my expensive fur coat. The dark brown fabric reached down to my ankles, shielding me completely from the biting chill the late autumn wind brought with itself. My heart felt like it would leap out of my chest anytime now as I clutched the white envelope tightly in my hands, the stamp of the Crown a blood red, asking for attention against the snow-white paper. I forced a small smile onto my lips as I followed the crowd towards the ballroom, gut twisting as we were ushered past the Throne Room, a room that had witnessed so much horror ever since Jeong Yunho had become King.
Despite completely fitting in with the rich crowd surrounding me, curtesy of Prince Choi, I still felt like everyone could spot that I didn’t actually belong here. The fabric of my white dress was soft against my pale skin, the best I had ever had the chance to wear, and it fell loosely around my body. There wasn’t anything too eye catching or special about the dress Prince Choi had sent for this specific occasion, and that was the purpose. I was supposed to blend in with the rich crowd and lure the King away from the masses, where I would make sure he’d never again see tomorrow’s sunrise. It wasn’t an easy task, but tonight was the perfect timing. There wouldn’t be another one like this anytime soon as these balls were organized on full moon’s only by the King, whispers about a ritual practiced by him resurfacing every time the ball took place.
The top of my dress was low-cut and it made me feel uncomfortable for exposing so much of my skin, the tops of my breasts quite visible to anyone who looked my way, the slit in the ruffles of the skirt at least decent enough that it didn’t reach too high. The straps around my shoulders were puffy but delicate, the prettiest V line I had seen a dress have so far. Thankfully, the design of the expensive dress allowed to match gloves with it, and so, I was delighted when I saw the matching white silky gloves placed at the bottom of the box this dress had arrived in. The gloves were delicate and soft, a little cold when I have tried them on, and reached just above my elbows, the rest of my arms exposed. It was warm inside the ballroom; therefore, I didn’t worry that I would catch a cold accidentally. I have smoothed down my hair, the long curls reaching down the middle of my back, and kept it minimal when applying a little beauty enhancer to my face. The blush on my cheeks was artificial and so was the glitter on top of my eyelids, and the redness of my lips. I couldn’t do much about my pale complexion, and could only hope that the rich people wouldn’t think that I looked sick. The goal was to catch the King’s eye tonight.
When I had finally reached the top of the stairs that would lead down to the ballroom, further inside the lively chamber, a man dressed elegantly smiled widely and extended his hand towards me. I could only hope he wouldn’t pay enough attention to notice the nervousness on my face as I handed the envelope to him, watching as he delicately opened it. Inside it, there was a letter addressed to a respective Bae Joohyun, who happened to be fourth cousins with the King and the Prince. I found the idea crazy, to come to such an event under the pretence of being someone else and someone so close to the Royal family, but Prince San had assured me that they hadn’t seen their little cousin since they were five, and so, the King wouldn’t know what she looked like now. The pretence was perfect in the Prince’s head as he said my looks fit exactly that of their cousin: pale, petite, black haired, and dark eyed. Apparently, she was beautiful beyond comprehension, and I oozed a tenderness their cousin also had. I didn’t dare refute the Prince’s claims and just thanked him for helping me out once again. After all, if he wanted my mission to be a success, he had to play his part from the shadows.
“Miss Bae Joohyun, first of her name, eldest princess and head huntress of the burgh of La Rouge.” The man announced loudly to the ballroom as he read off my fake title from the invitation, and I tried to keep an amicable smile on my lips as a servant quickly rushed to my side, helping me down the marble set of stairs. It felt like everyone was staring at me in the room, which they were, and I tried to slow my heartbeat with deeps breaths in order to keep myself from fainting. I couldn’t even blame it on the restricting dress as I didn’t wear a corset, unlike many of the ladies present here tonight. It made me feel out of place, but trusting Prince San’s words, the actual Bae Joohyun wouldn’t have shown up in a restricting and puffed-up dress. She was a free spirit and often times went against the rules in order to live her life the way she wanted. Her parents weren’t too keen of her attitude and the choices she had made so far in her life, but they’d rather keep her close and not her younger sister, who apparently was a rascal and everyone’s nightmare in the burgh of La Rouge. The burgh resided on the other side of the Kingdom of the Fallen and was a lot more lenient compared to Aurora, that is, until King Jeong manages to expand his believes that far out, poisoning the innocent people of La Rouge, like he had done to us in Aurora.
And just like that, the night seemed to go on uneventfully, besides the unwanted attention men, and women alike, seemed to offer me. I wasn’t looking for anyone’s company, but I knew if I kept to myself, hidden in a corner, I would get nothing done tonight, and I couldn’t let that happen. I had to raise attention onto myself if I wanted the King to find me appealing, and that was only achievable if I was surrounded by men who made me laugh loudly, even if it was forced often times. I had managed to come closer to the King more than once, but so it seemed he was too busy staring down the cleavage of the dress of whatever lady he had been talking to at the moment, clearly uninterested in whatever they had to say. His loyal dogs were around too, of course, both dressed to the nines as they surveyed the crowd, mingling with the people at times. Song Mingi remained close to the King, however, but wasn’t breathing down his neck like usual, his outfit a lot more casual than one was used to seeing him wear. His body was littered with accessories, and I accidentally had caught sight of the redhead ripping the silver chain off as it hung around the man’s narrow waist over the tight vest Song Mingi was wearing. A heated exchange between the two seemed to happen afterwards, with the taller guard backing the redhead against a pillar, sneering into her face, until the King showed up and merely tapped the two on the shoulder before walking away, beaming at a blonde woman with a dark look in his eyes.
The longer I watched the King, the angrier I became that nobody could see through his obvious façade, of the fakeness in his laughter and smiles, that they couldn’t see his eyes darkening and a sick twist crossing his features any time someone said something he didn’t enjoy. Everyone remained oblivious to his so obvious show of dominance whenever a man managed to capture the attention of those around themselves. It was pathetic really, how badly the King needed to have all the attention in the big room on himself, yearning for the praises and ass-licking these rich people were doing. It was sickening and so infuriating as I watched him throw his head back in delight, laughter melodic but loud enough to have others glancing his way, flocking towards the small group, because it was the King. And if the King found something hilarious and worth his time, everyone else wanted to know what it was about, striving to capture his attention like that. My jaw was clenched as I watched another woman wander towards him, looking abashed when the King so much as glanced her way in passing, batting her eyelashes at him. I couldn’t even fathom the thought of wanting the King’s attention purposefully, not when so much blood lay on his hands, so much terror and horror committed under his reign, under his command.
I nursed a tall glass of champagne in my hands as I surveyed the crowd, searching for Song Mingi and the redhead, finding them in different parts of the ballroom, both seemingly busy with the people they were respectively talking to. The King, however, happened to be closer to me as he was talking to two gentlemen, face impassive as he only hummed and nodded at whatever they were saying. For a second, he glanced ahead, and our eyes connected. My breath hitched and I fought every fibre in my body wanting to look away, knowing that the King liked a good chase and a little provocation. If I looked away, I would admit defeat, and he didn’t like women who weren’t a little fiery, harder to break. The thought made me sick but I quickly disregarded it and hid my fake smile as I took the smallest sip I could of my champagne, knowing that my plan was working as the King’s eyes bore into mine, narrowing. It wasn’t the first time our eyes accidentally met during the night, and I was completely convinced that his curiosity was growing the more I seemed to be teasing him. Always around, yet never approaching him. Always around, yet never actively asking for his attention. I could see his fierce eyes on me every time I laughed a little too loudly, or anytime I playfully touched a gentleman’s bicep for a second too long. The King might’ve thought I wasn’t looking, but I was. And my plan was working just perfectly. The mission would finally turn out to be a success tonight.
“Miss Bae,” My attention was ripped away from the King as a moderately tall man stopped in front of me, lips heart shaped, and kind eyes sharper rather than rounder. The man’s voice was rather deep, yet soft, and he looked almost a little shy, “I did not know you would be attending tonight’s ball.”
I plastered on a soft smile and tried to act like I knew the man in front of me. Prince San didn’t really tell me who I was supposed to know tonight, and so I had to be creative when catching other people’s names, “It came as a surprise to me as well.”
The man chuckled as he covered his mouth with a soft looking hand, eyes glinting in amusement. He didn’t look like he had dubious reasons for talking to me, unlike many other men so far tonight, and his eyes had not even once fallen onto my cleavage, “Did your father send you in hopes of finding a suitor?”
“Perhaps that was the reason,” I mussed as I took a sip of my champagne, aware of the King’s eyes on me as I continued talking to the kind man, “it seems like he won’t accept the fact that I do not wish to marry.”
“Perhaps you haven’t met the right man yet.” Ah, the likeableness of this man just plummeted as my eyebrows furrowed, and he seemed alarmed as he realized what he had said, ���Oh! I was not suggesting that you should marry or anything else, Miss Bae! It is completely alright to not want to marry, I do not wish to marry either.”
“Lovely,” I hummed, not interested in the conversation anymore. The King was moving away and I had to remain close to him, “I didn’t catch your name, sir.”
“Do Kyungsoo, Miss Bae, I see the passing of the years made you forget about me.” I gulped, nervous all of a sudden as Mr. Do chuckled. I had no idea who he was, but I was sure the real Bae Joohyun would know. So, I chuckled abashed, looking down in fake embarrassment.
“My apologies, I haven’t been to Aurora in so long…” Mr. Do nodded in understanding, downing the rest of his champagne in one go.
“Then I must leave you alone to mingle some more, right?” He sounded slightly disappointed, and I couldn’t help but think that the bond between Miss Bae and Mr. Do once had ran deeper than it seemed. I cleared my throat and excused myself with a bow of my head, looking for the King. The crowd was large and as the music had gotten louder, a dance floor had formed in the middle of the big room. Everyone was loud as more champagne and expensive wine was consumed, both men and women getting bolder and handsy with each other. I tried not to see the disappearing couples behind pillars and curtains as I walked past them, quiet moans or groans alarming to hear. I was no prude, but doing anything like that just felt wrong in a place like this. Besides, I wouldn’t have dared doing anything relatively inadequate in the house of the King, under his watchful eyes.
“Miss Bae.” I jumped as the velvety voice whispered in my ear, almost making me punch their gut as I whirled around, “You’ve been alone ever since I have left your side.”
Mr. Byun wasn’t exactly the man I wished to be around right now; eyes hazed over as his breath reeked of alcohol. He had set his eyes on me the second the servant had announced my name and title, lurking around me after presenting himself and talking to me.
“You are quite wrong,” I chuckled, trying not to glare at him as he reached out a hand and twirled a dark strand of my hair between his fingers, “I have been talking to others too, Mr. Byun.”
“None as promising and handsome as myself, right?” The man smirked, overly sure of himself, making my jaw clench as I forced a chuckle to leave my lips. All this unwanted attention certainly hadn’t been part of my plan, I thought nobody would give me even as much as a second glance, busy with others, with people they already knew. All these men were making this experience even less pleasant, as if being in the lion’s den was pleasant in the first place.
“What a confident man,” I smiled widely, placing my empty glass on a tray as a servant walked by us, “I bet the ladies love being around you, Mr. Byun.”
“Hopefully you are one of those ladies yourself, Miss Bae.” Mr. Byun winked and suddenly bowed, extending a hand towards me, “Would you offer me your first dance of the night, love?”
No, I would not like to offer you my first dance of the night, but I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t refuse a dance, whether I liked the idea or not. I had started thinking that my plan had been flawed from the very beginning and that I wouldn’t succeed in fulfilling my mission, that is, until I felt a gloved hand sneaking around my waist, firmly yanking me into the side of a body. My eyes widened as I gasped at the sudden feeling, head snapping up, dread filling my whole being. The King was glaring down at Mr. Byun as his hold tightened around my waist, and I almost flung myself out of his grip, skin burning through the fabric where the King had touched me. Despite my goal being exactly this, to find myself in the arms of the King, it felt wrong. Very wrong. I wanted nothing more than to run away, but I steeled my nerves and hushed the thoughts that were screaming to run far away from the tyrant, and managed to ease a soft smile on my lips.
“Mr. Byun,” The King grinned, however it didn’t reach his dark eyes, “already drunk and close to passing out? It’s been only two hours since the ball started, you fool.”
Mr. Byun’s jaw clenched, but he had no choice but to bow his head in respect, “My apologies, Your Grace, I might have gotten carried away.”
“Most certainly if you thought you could dance with such beautiful maiden.” It was my turn to clench my jaw at the King’s insinuation, but I willed my heartrate to calm down and muscles to relax as the King’s dark gaze was directed onto me now, “Shall we dance, gorgeous?”
“Yes, Your Grace.” I bowed my head and forced a timid smile onto my lips as the King’s ring, claw, decorated hand found my waist too, grip firm as he veered me in front of himself and made us walk towards the dance floor. My back straightened as I tried to calm down and not tense up when the King’s hands squeezed my waist just a little bit more, narrowly avoiding a couple as they were dancing around a little too wildly for the King’s liking as he leered at them. I closed my eyes when I felt ourselves stop in the middle of the dance floor, and took a deep breath. I could do this, for the future of the Fallen of the Kingdom, for our nation, and for Prince Choi San. I could do this, and I would do this.
When I blinked my eyes open, the King was stood in front of me, a dangerous smirk on his plush red lips, staring down with hunger in his eyes as they racked down my body. I gulped and gasped when I was forcefully yanked against his broad and strong body, ring decorated hand curling into my hips as his gloved hand took mine in his, holding it a lot gentler than I expected him to. As I looked up, making eye contact with the King, he took a step forward, slowly easing us into a waltz that matched the pace of the orchestra and of those dancing around us too.
The King wore fine garments, moulded for his body, almost like a second layer for his venomous skin. His black trousers with fine white stripes clung to his long legs perfectly, enunciating his proportions even more as they were tucked into shiny tall boots that reached just bellow the King’s knees. The brown belt was hidden by the black vest clinging onto his upper body, the same fabric of his trousers seemingly sewn together with the vest’s fabric on his left shoulder and the lower right side of it. However, the back of the vest was completely different, a white fabric with black swirls on it. A black necktie was tucked underneath the King’s vest, a fine necklace with beads and a silver cross sitting on top of it, with a matching rosary hanging on top of his vest and necktie altogether. There was nothing holy about the King, it was a mere display of mockery in the Lord’s name that even such dark creature could wear and touch something so holy. The white shirt’s right sleeve was rolled up to the King’s elbows, bracelets that matched his rosary hanging snugly against his thin wrist, his metal rings, claws, eye-catching and on display for everyone to see. The left sleeve of his white shirt was tucked underneath his black leather gloves, crunching quietly as the King’s fingers tightened around mine. I tried to remain calm as the prolonged eye contact put me on edge, and I fought to stay confident and repress all the nightmarish memories of the King.
“It’s been a while, cousin.” I couldn’t completely read the expression on the King’s face, and so I only gulped. Words seemed to have escaped me, and it only made my stomach clench more when the King’s eyes fell onto my cleavage again, all too aware of how exposed I was. But it was on purpose, Prince San knew the King’s vices, and he was using it to our advantage when he had gifted this dress to me, “I don’t remember you being this quiet, Joohyun, dear.”
I gulped and scoffed, irritation not so fake anymore, “People change, Your Grace, and I have too.”
“Did your daddy tell you to behave well tonight?” His question didn’t sit well with me, especially the tone he had said it with, but I just ignored it as I rolled my eyes at the King, “Did he think you’d be rewarded for it?”
My face flushed at the implication, and it took me everything to not rip myself away from the King right then and there as I felt the sharp ends of his ornaments dig into my skin through the thin fabric of my white dress, “I’m not looking for anything, Yunho, I’m merely here to socialize, see what my cousin is up to lately.”
“I’m doing just fine, dear, as you can see.” The King chuckled, and I felt him pulling me flushed against himself, making my heartbeat quicken as I had to crane my neck to look up at him, “The Kingdom is flourishing and Aurora is doing better than it had been under King Choi’s regiment.”
“You’ve certainly brought some changes to it, Your Grace.” I couldn’t contain the snarl in my tone as I averted my eyes, staring at the rosary instead while the King just chuckled. There was nothing hilarious about what I had said, but of course, it would’ve been alarming if the King thought the way he ruled wasn’t right, “Do you plan on ruining the Kingdom of the Fallen even more?”
The King’s eyes hardened as I looked back up in his eyes, jaw clenching as I felt his right hand slowly slip lower, pressing flat against the small of my back. The action made goosebumps erupt on my skin, and I tried not to shudder as the King merely smirked, no doubt noticing my reaction to his undesired touch.
“I see your passion for the wellbeing of my Kingdom hasn’t changed, dear Joohyun.” The King smiled, but it was far from genuine, he looked irritated, “Why don’t you become Queen and mould it to your own likes?”
“Is that what you are doing right now?” I cocked an eyebrow and chuckled, “Playing with your people as if you were playing chess? What’s next, a war against the Kingdom of Light? You know their Queen can’t wait to destroy you, Yunho.”
“How saddening she’ll never get the chance to do so.” The glint in the King’s eyes was scary, they held a secret so dark I probably didn’t want to know, but I was curious. He was planning something, something dangerous and big, and I needed to find out what. But that would take time, and if I managed to kill him tonight, that dark secret of his would die with him.
“Indeed,” I chuckled and tried to ignore the way the King’s hand slipped further down, fingers barely brushing against my ass. Why was he doing this? He surely could’ve found other ladies that weren’t related to him, since he was under the impression that I was his cousin, even if not a close relative, still blood-related to him, “I see your goons never leave your side, Your Grace.”
The King’s head fell backwards as he laughed, chest shaking with the motion, the first genuine reaction I had ever seen on him. It stunned me, but I tried not to gape. I glanced to the side, unsurprised as I found Song Mingi staring daggers our way, twirling a knife in his hands. The redhead was dancing, but her eyes were solely fixed on the King as well, probably deaf to whatever the man holding her was saying to her.
“My goons, are my most loyal guards, dear, of course they never leave my side.” The King finally seemed to get over my words as he had stopped laughing and was instead grinning, glancing to the side like I had done so. His eyes softened for a second as they fell on Song Mingi, and then his cold exterior was back on as his eyes fell down on me, “It’s their duty, after all.”
“It looks like a little bit more than just duty, Your Grace.” I smirked, heart stilling when I felt the King unashamedly squeeze my ass. I jumped and tried not to sputter as he flushed me fully against himself, a sickening smirk pulling at his lips.
“Perhaps it is more than just duty.” The King whispered, winking as he lowered his head just a little bit, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. I tensed, eyes wide as I continued staring at him slightly frightened, “You smell like fresh roses, so sweet.”
I tried not to show how disgusted I felt, and instead chuckled lightly, “Thank you, Your Grace. Tell me a little secret…do your loyal dogs follow you everywhere?”
The King quirked an eyebrow, prompting me to continue as his clawed fingers pressed a little harsher into my clothed ass, “Or do your guards offer you privacy when times call for desperate measures?”
The King chuckled, leaning down so that he’d be able to whisper in my ear. I tried to remain relaxed as his hot lips brushed against my ear, tone low and words dripping with allure, “They know when not to follow, dear, would you like to see for yourself?”
As the King pulled back, bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes dropped to my cleavage again, I knew this was it. I wouldn’t get a better chance where the King and I were alone, “Since you offered so nicely, My King.”
The King’s eyes darkened significantly as he released his bottom lip and licked his lips, nodding once. Before I could change my mind about what I had agreed to and flee, the King took a step back and released my body, however still kept a firm grip on our intertwined fingers, our gloves a clash of colours against each other. The crowd seemed to part as the King walked through it, curious eyes watching closely as I followed after the King, struggling to keep up with his long strides, but he wouldn’t slow down for me. I gripped the skirt of my dress and raised it above my ankles in order to not trip, paying close attention to my surroundings for when I needed to escape. It wouldn’t be easy as we were on the third floor and all windows seemed to be locked in the long corridor, and I could only hope I would find a hidden door that would lead through a passageway, helping me escape once I had killed the King.
I didn’t expect us to stop so soon, and so I ran into the back of the King, making him chuckle. He wordlessly pushed the door open for us, and allowed me to walk in first, releasing my hand. I took a deep breath before I stepped through the threshold and tried not to gape at the size of the library I had just stepped foot inside. The walls were covered in nothing but endless shelves of books upon books, a room that had two floors, ladders pressed up against the tall bookshelves for when you needed something from a higher shelf. The room was beautiful, and something vexing like jealousy plunged deep in my gut, jealousy that the King had all of this beauty at his feet while others had to suffer out in the cold streets, begging for a shilling as nobody had much money to pay up. But before I could marvel at the beauty of the library even more, I felt myself yanked backwards. The wind was knocked out of my lungs as my back collided against the sturdy bookshelves, and I panicked thinking that my identity had been discovered, that the King finally had enough of me. I was ready to fight him, grab my hidden dagger and stab him in the heart, fight and flee afterwards, but what I didn’t expecting was to feel his blood-red lips pressing against mine. I froze, eyes wide in awestruck as the King’s lips were warmer than I thought they would be, and really soft. It was a crime that somebody like him had lips like that. Out of distress, I grabbed his biceps and went to push the King away, but I realized that would be a mistake. How else could I distract him if not like this? He’d have his guard down, offering me the perfect chance to stab him. And so, I swallowed the disgust bubbling up my throat and forced my eyes to close as my fingers dug into the King’s skin through the soft fabric of his white shirt.
His right hand grabbed my jaw to tilt my head up, making it easier for him to continue leaning down to kiss me, his rings not quite digging into my skin, but dangerously close to doing so. My heart was racing as the King’s lips started moving against mine, not soft at all, not careful nor patient as I forced myself to reciprocate it. It was hard, every fibre in my body was screaming at me to stop this, that I could distract him somehow else, but a more logical side of me knew that I just couldn’t. I was doing this for Aurora, for the Kingdom of the Fallen, and so I relaxed against the King’s strong body and forced my thoughts to silence. My arms raised and I wrapped them around the King’s shoulders, pressing up on my tip toes to kiss him better, opening my mouth for his lips to fit better against mine. The King didn’t waste time as his tongue slipped past my lips and lapped at my mouth furiously, a moan slipping past my lips as I fisted the black strands of hair sitting neatly on his nape. The King seemed to enjoy that as his claws suddenly dug into my skin, making me whine as his tongue brushed against mine, licking at it in a way I didn’t know was possible, my knees weakening involuntarily as the King’s body pinned me against the bookshelf, immobilising me, caging me between himself and the bookshelves. It was a little scary, but I didn’t dwell on it as the King sucked on my tongue, completely dirty and nothing like I have experienced before, my cheeks flaring as I felt his gloved hand settle at the base of my throat. My heart picked up thinking that he would try and choke me, rob me of my already waning air, but instead, it slowly slipped towards my breasts, cupping my right one harshly. I moaned and chased after his mouth as he pulled slightly back, slotting my upper lip between his, suckling on his bottom one as the King started massaging my breast through the thin fabric of my dress, groaning loudly into my mouth.
It was starting to get hot around me, our actions affecting my body in ways it long hadn’t been affected like, the touches of the King igniting a dormant fire deep in the pit of my stomach. It wasn’t fair that he could elicit such a reaction out of me, not when I bore nothing but hatred towards him. It wasn’t fair that I had to go out of my way to do something I didn’t wish to do in order to get rid of the tyrant, and it only fuelled the fire in my veins as I latched onto the King’s lips furiously, setting a pace that was bruising to our already swollen lips. Low groans slipped past the King’s lips as our noses kept knocking against each other, his right hand leaving my face as it went behind my body, grasping my ass painfully. I gasped and tried not to recoil when the King suddenly licked at my bottom lip, humming lowly in the back of his throat as he flushed our lower bodies together, rutting into me. My heart was hammering against my ribcage and I felt like I couldn’t breathe, but I refused to open my eyes, scared that I would run away if we made eye contact. The King groaned as he massaged my flesh through my dress, and the hand still squeezing my breast finally disappeared and grabbed onto the other cheek of my ass before it slowly slipped back onto my lower back, fisting my dress. My chest was rising and falling quickly, and I tried to regulate my breaths and clear my mind, assess the situation in order to be able to proceed. But suddenly, I felt cold metal pressing into my skin, grabbing my jaw firmly.
“Open your eyes, little dove.” My heart did a somersault and I froze, thoughts running a million per hour, panicking. Had he finally realized who I really was? I felt teeth sinking into my bottom lip painfully and I whined as my eyes snapped open, freezing as the King’s dark eyes were right in front of mine. His neck, ears, and cheeks were flushed red, lips swollen and glistening with saliva. His pupils were dilated and he smirked as he massaged the small of my back, suddenly his thumb swiping across my lower lip. I couldn’t look away, it felt like he had bewitched me, locked me into place as I struggled to fill my lungs to the brim with air. I was scared, waiting for the predator’s next move, trying to anticipate what he’d do next. But I certainly didn’t think he’d slip the sharp metal ring inside my mouth, forefinger pressing against my tongue, “Suck.”
I gulped and maintained eye contact with the King as I licked his finger, trying to ignore the animalistic look on his face as I hollowed my cheeks and sucked on his ornament decorated finger slowly, swirling my tongue around it. The King leaned closer, lips hovering dangerously close to mine, brushing against his own knuckles. The King was panting hard as he slipped his middle finger too inside my mouth, and I tried to remain calm as I became aware of the ache in my right hand, the mark he had given me three years ago suddenly burning as if it were freshly made. I wouldn’t be able to handle this for much longer, gut twisting in sickness, yet my body was pressing harder against the King’s, aware of the neediness that had suddenly overcome it. I pushed my tongue between the King’s two fingers and sucked on them, making the King’s jaw clench until he suddenly pulled them out of my mouth, making saliva drip down my chin. I was embarrassed and my cheeks burned as he grabbed my left thigh, lifting it up and around his hips, pressing his body into mine, the hardness all too obvious in his trousers as he rubbed himself against me. My breath hitched in my throat at the friction, the King’s eyes glossed over as he released my thigh once he was sure I’d keep it there. My fingers tangled tighter into his locks as he allowed his metal decorated fingers to travel up my exposed thigh due to the slit in the skirt, only stopping when it reached my clothed core. I tried to stop the whimper from escaping my lips as I bit down on my bottom one, completely at the King’s mercy as he started rubbing small circles against my clothed clit, embarrassed of how reactive I was to his ministrations. I was aching, clenching around nothing, but I forced myself to stay level-headed as I fisted the collar of the King’s shirt and yanked him down, pressing our lips together once more, forcefully. I locked his hips against mine with my left leg and rolled my hip against the King’s hand, whining as he kept the slow, antagonizing, pace. I made sure he was busy with working me further up as I slowly slipped my left hand out of his hair, down his shoulders, stopping at his narrow waist to squeeze before I carefully removed it from his body, leaning a little forward and into the King in order to reach the top of my white boot.
My dagger was hidden just inside of it, the cold blade pressing against my shin all night long, waiting for this exact moment. I could feel the triumph in my bloodstream as I gripped the handle of the blade, moaning as the King cupped my clothed core, but stopped his ministrations altogether. I didn’t stop kissing him, however, as I raised my dagger high, ready to plunge it deep into the King’s back. But before I could even as much as move my arm, suddenly, my head was slammed to the side, making me hiss loudly at the dull ache in my jaw as it crashed into the bookshelf painfully, my left arm pinned to the bookshelf above myself. I froze, blood turning ice cold as I was afraid to even as much as breathe despite my lungs heaving for air. The King’s nose suddenly was pressing into my left cheek, his sweaty forehead resting against my temple as his breathing was loud and shallow. I didn’t dare move, frozen to the spot. I had been discovered, and now I would die. I would fail Prince San and bring shame to my name. I was nothing but a failure, soon about to meet my brother in Eden.
“Bae Joohyun, you say,” The King chuckled, sounding actually amused, “I didn’t know my own cousin hated me so much she wanted to kill me herself?”
I took quiet breaths, but didn’t speak up. It seemed like the King still had something to say, I didn’t dare interrupt his monologue, “I didn’t think your unrelenting support could turn into hatred in two weeks, cousin.”
Ah, so this is where Prince San had made a mistake. Bae Joohyun and Jeong Yunho had been in contact all this time, and apparently, she was on his side. Prince San should’ve known better, but so should have I. I should’ve trusted my gut feeling this time, and I didn’t, and now I would suffer the consequences. Because darkness always prevailed, no matter how much the good and kind fought for its disappearance.
“People change.” I managed to mutter, right side of my face digging painfully into the shelf. I wasn’t panting anymore, but my frantic heartbeat made it hard to actually breathe, and so I was still struggling to calm down.
“Not you, little dove.” The King whispered, and suddenly I felt lips pressing against my ear, making me jerk. The King was frighteningly strong, and I finally started pushing against him, trying to free myself, but it was futile…as always, “Stop fighting against me, you’ll only make it worse for yourself.”
“Burn in hell, Jeong Yunho.” I hissed, trying to look at him from the corner of my eyes. The King chuckled, trailing kisses from my temple down to my jaw. I tried to push him off again, but it did nothing.
“Still trying to curse me,” The King muttered, nuzzling his nose against my cheek again, “I suppose you didn’t change, my little dove. Did you think I’d forget? Was it worth that apple?”
My eyes widened to the point of falling out as the King suddenly released me, my head snapping forward as my heartbeat stilled. I went to throw a punch at his jaw, but he completely took me off guard as he grabbed my right thigh too and hiked me up, pressing me into the bookshelf again as he pinned my wrists above my head, the dagger clattering to the floor from my grip. Out of reflex, my legs wrapped around his hips tighter, knowing that I would slip down despite the force the King was pinning me down with.
“You killed my brother.” Was all I managed to whisper, eyes filling with tears. The King shushed me and leaned his head close, his soft features scary all of a sudden as his blank mask slipped back on.
“You killed your brother by stealing that apple and getting caught for it.” The King whispered, eyebrows furrowing, “If you wouldn’t have put up such a fight, I wouldn’t have thrown you in the dungeon, in fact, I would’ve allowed you to take the leftovers from the kitchen for your brother—”
“Screw you!” I screamed, fury lacing every part of my being, heart hammering in my ribcage, “Curse you! Burn in hell for everything you’ve done! You dare mock me to my face about my brother?! I promise you I will make sure you don’t see tomorrow’s sunrise!”
“Bold words coming from such a frail dove like yourself,” The King mocked, pouting as my body started trembling, “I could behead you right in the middle of the ballroom, my little dove.”
I didn’t care anymore what he did to me. He could kill me right here or right in front of an audience, I didn’t care anymore as long as I was free of this miserable life.
“Do it.” I gritted through my teeth, leaning into his face, lips ghosting against his, “Do it, you fucking coward. You could’ve easily killed me in the alleyway that night or in the square, even now, yet all you do is run your mouth with empty threats.”
I knew they weren’t empty threats, that the King would actually kill me in the following minutes, but I wasn’t afraid of him anymore. I have seen all grey colours of his, I knew who he was, what he was capable of.
“If I had killed you, where would be the fun in that?” The King raised his eyebrows, pressing a light kiss against my lips, making me jerk my head back, “You think I don’t know my brother and his pathetic of excuse of a guard sent you to kill me? Little dove, if they wanted me dead so bad, why didn’t they come after me? Why did they send you?”
I froze, eyebrows furrowing as the King continued with a small amused smile, “They sent a poor girl that is desperate to avenge her brother’s death, a girl that is so weak she can’t even free herself right now, yet all I’m doing is pin you against a bookshelf, little dove. My brother, Prince San, and his pest, Jung Wooyoung, merely sent a weak and poor girl to kill a King that holds twice the strength she does just because they wanted to use you, because they knew you hated me strong enough to actually do what they asked of you. They knew you had nothing to lose anymore, and they know you do not care for your safety or life anymore, my little dove.”
I was stunned listening to the King’s words, slowly shaking my head no, refusing to accept such words. No, that is not why Prince San and Sir Jung had chosen me to eliminate the King, it couldn’t be. That’s not who those two were, and I would’ve been a fool if I succumbed to the King’s words, letting his poisonous words infect my brain with lies.
“No, you’re wrong, My King,” I whispered, eyes boring into his with such hatred that it ricochetted off my whole being, “Prince Choi and Sir Jung aren’t like you. And if I’m just a means to an end in their grand plan, I do not care as long as they manage to rid the Kingdom and this world of you, Jeong Yunho.”
The King hissed, obviously displeased by my retaliation, by my fervorous belief in the Prince and his Royal Guard, “I see you refuse to see the truth just yet, my little dove, so let me give you two options.”
My eyebrows furrowed as the King leaned so close his breath fanned over my face, dark and piercing eyes boring into mine, his cheeks still tinged red, “The very obvious first option is death, but I don’t feel like getting rid of you just yet, my little dove, therefore, I have a second option for you.”
He paused, a sick smirk twisting his lips to the side, making my stomach drop in dread, “You become my good little obedient spy, my ears and eyes in Aurora, and in return, I shall reward you with immunity.”
“No—” I was shaking my head before he could even finish what he was saying, but the King’s sneering face quickly made me shut up.
“I wasn’t finished talking, Y/N.” My breath hitched, he even knew my name, “You will go back this instant to the pathetic mansion those two idiots are hiding in, and tell them, that if they even as much as dare to think to send someone to assassinate me again, I will dismember Jung Wooyoung in front of Choi San after I dissect their whore of a maid, leaving my dear brother for last, publicly executing him in the square, calling all of the Kingdom of the Fallen together to witness the fall of the Crown Prince. Understood?”
My lips quivered as my eyes filled with tears, my voice merely above a whisper, “No, Your Grace, I won’t—”
“I’m not giving you an option, my little dove,” The King suddenly released my arms, which fell limply next to my body as the King cupped my left cheek with his sharp metal rings, “I’m giving you an order that you will execute.”
I tried to blink the tears away, recoiling when one slipped down my cheek and the King kissed it away, “And once you have delivered my message, I expect you back at the Castle, my little dove.”
My breath stuttered in my throat, wide eyes looking into the King’s dark ones. Suddenly, he bucked his hips and I gasped as I realised he was still as hard as mere minutes ago, making my heart race, “Because little doves like you deserve a reward, and you’ve been awfully pliant tonight, so I will fuck you senseless and teach you a lesson afterwards.”
My blood froze, the colour leaving my face as the King snickered, pressing a soft kiss against the bridge of my nose as he suddenly stepped back, gently placing me back down against the floor. I felt abused, thrown around and mauled, skin burning everywhere the King had touched. I was disgusted, and yet I knew I had no choice but to do as I was told. I belonged to him, and even if I ran, he would find me. I gulped as the King’s gloved fingers danced up my gloved arm, slowly slipping the silky fabric down my hand, making me shiver. I clenched my jaw and refused to look down as the King raised my hand, staring at the damaged skin in awe. His lips were parted and he took a deep breath, slowly leaning down and kissing the maimed skin he had caused with his own hands three years ago. I closed my eyes shut tightly, trying to fight the tears that threatened to escape.
“So beautiful,” The King whispered, hot lips brushing feather-light against the skin of my right hand, “Mine, little dove, you’re all mine. You always have been.”
I gulped as I looked at the King, jaw clenching as I yanked my hand out of his and quickly wore my glove, hiding the atrocious scar that he had caused. The King seemed to be in a trance as he stared at me, making my heartbeat quicken even more when he didn’t say anything.
I needed to leave, I felt like I was suffocating.
“My Mingi will meet you in the back gardens, my little dove, ready with a horse.” My blood ran cold, hands turning into fists as the King turned away from me, walking towards the massive oak desk he had in the middle of the library, “I expect you back in an hour, my little dove, and if you don’t come back, I will burn down everything in my way to find you. Understood?”
I grit my teeth, staring daggers into the back of his head, “Understood, Your Grace.”
And if finding a different way to kill the King would be the cause of my last breath, I would still do it. This wasn’t the end, he hadn’t won yet, because I would always remain on Prince Choi and Sir Jung’s side, always. In fact, the King had made is easier for us to find out all of his weak points, easier to stab him in the back when he least expects it.
If I had to dedicate my whole life to bring down such evil, I would do it over and over again, because in the end, goodness always wins.
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f10werfae · 2 years
Text
The Build Up
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Pairing: Husband!Construction!Chris x Wife!Reader
Warnings: none really
Summary: Nothing better than a visit on site by the missus, and a lot of domestic chris!
part 2: The Build Up Pt2
- Requests are open!
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(Chris' P.O.V)
The scorching sun was horrific, sending waves of sweat and stench to our construction site. Loads of us men having to strip down to the likes of our white vests, our reflective vests long forgotten.
“Oi Chris, when do we get to meet this missus of yours?” John called from the other side of the house we were working on, a new A lister client.
“When I want ya to” I chuckled back, watching him shake his head before going back to nailing parts together, the other guys laughing along with a rag or two being thrown at me.
“Yeah literally all we know is that her name is Y/n, and that’s because her names on your chest dude” Logan commented gesturing to the ink on my chest, positioned right above where my heart would be.
Shaking my head, I just continued on shovelling gravel into the ground before levelling out, trying not to let the heat get to me.
“Look all ya need to know is that m'a happily married man alright?”
“Yes sir”
Despite the harsh weather, I knew i’d never trade my job in. The pay was good, the hours are negotiable, what else could I really settle for? Not to mention it saves me from having to go to the gym three or four times a week.
So lost in thought I didn’t even realise my phone in my back pocket had started going off, setting down my shovel by the brick wall I answered it.
“Baby, i’m here” I heard that sweet honey-like voice of hers say, a smile instantly flying onto my face when I heard her words of endearment. The guys wiggling her eyebrows at me once they saw the smile on my face, they musta caught onto who was on the phone.
“Where abouts are ya precious?” I tried to say as quietly as possible, not wanting to attract attention to it.
“Mmm I’m by the street light on the right, you forgot your lunch again hun” With that motherly scolding voice of hers, I felt myself cower a little before turning to the right, seeing her gorgeous self there. Graced in a short flowly blue floral summer dress, I instantly felt myself swoon, the baby stroller sitting right beside her.
“Gotta go boys, I won’t be long” I breathed out leaving my equipment, walking down the street, my steps getting faster the closer I got.
Y/n's arms outstretched inviting me in for a hug,
“Baby I stink, and i’m sweaty. I don’t know if you’d wanna hug me right now” I said stepping back a little, a pout forming on those kissable lips of hers.
“I don’t care, I wanna hug from my husband”
“Alright c'mere” I growled pulling her in by her hand, her arms going around my neck as I encircled around her waist. Her sweet vanilla scent taking away the industrial smell of the site.
“Didn' I tell ya not to come here? The fumes aren’t good for you or the kids” I scolded back, my hands going to settle on her visible rounded stomach housing our second baby,
“I know, but I missed you, and so did Noah” She said in a smaller voice, turning around to pick up our 1 year old, his hands stuffed in his mouth.
“There’s my little man” I beamed taking him into my arms, his face overlooking my shoulder as I brought Y/n in closer, my lips catching her in a soft passionate kiss. Only separating when we heard the men behind us cheering, giggles leaving us both as our foreheads rested against each others.
“You better get home early, you know what this does to me”
She whispered against my lips, her hands trailing down my chest in the white vest, her hands resting on the surface of my stomach, kisses being pressed into my chest.
“gah you need to stop bein so distracting, thought you were gonna be good this time?” I teased settling Noah back into his stroller, my hands going to cup my beautiful wife's face, her pregnancy glow making her even more irresistible.
“Sorry baby, but baby here jus missed his daddy” She teased biting her lip a little,
“Oh but he’s not the only one now is he?”
“Hmm nope. Not my fault you look so handsome all built up like this, you look like such a good daddy”
“Is that right?” I whispered, her nose nuzzling against mine
“Oi Chris, you gonna introduce us or what?” I heard Logan say behind us, rolling my eyes I turned around to see the whole lot of them lookin at us.
“Y/n honey, meet the boys, boys this is my wife Y/n and our son Noah”
“Cute. So how did yall meet? There’s no way this sweaty mess of a man just met a soft n'elegant woman like yourself outta nowhere”
“Chris didn’t tell you guys how we met?” Y/n asked curiously, knowing damn well that’s my go to story every time we meet someone new.
With all of them shaking my head she started off with,
“Well before Chris had his own construction company, he actually freelanced around my hometown fixin stuff for whoever. I had come home from college and I was like 22, to see this hunk fixin one of my ma's broken windows. Trust me I was in shock, but then I found out he was a bit older. But that didn’t stop us, did it Chrissy?”
“Chrissy?” Steven snorted
“Shut up Steven if you wanna job tomorrow” I snarked back, my ears feeling warmer at the embarrassment.
“Okay but we wanna know the whole story” Logan said pushing further,
“How about y’all come over to our house tomorrow night for dinner? we'd love to have ya, and i’ll tell ya how we got together” Y/n said happily, god she was so caring and welcoming.
“Is that alright with you boss” I heard someone call out from behind.
“yeah, anything to make the wife happy”
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toddxhavez · 1 year
Text
My Eyes
Pairing(s): Wednesday Addams x reader, mentions of Enid Sinclair x reader
Summary: Wednesday likes you and she’s finally gotten tired of dealing with your one-sided relationship to Enid.
Warning(s): Angst
Word count: 2.8k
A/N: I’ve never written a fanfic before but I wanted to give it try, kinda nervous but let me know if I should give writing part 2 a try. This fic is loosely based on the song My Eyes by The Lumineers. Reader’s character is heavily influenced by Gaara from Naruto. Since all the actors are +18 all the characters are aged up to +18. Not proofread so sorry for any mistakes in advance :P
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It was late in the day when Wednesday heard someone knocking at her door, she was in the middle of writing her novel but she could still pay attention to everything that happened right after Enid had opened their door.
“Hey, are you ready to go out now? Sorry for coming a little late Yoko was showing me these new sunglasses she got-“ she heard Y/N begin to say before Enid had intervened mid-sentence, “oh actually I can’t tonight, I promised Ajax to help him with… studying, I’m so sorry that I forgot can we reschedule for another time?” Enid asked with an apologetic voice.
You’ve got to be joking.
Wednesday tried her best to block out the interaction suddenly feeling burdened by having the ability to multitask. Although if Wednesday had looked she would have been able to see you glance over at her in her seat before looking back at Enid giving her a smile and nod in response, Enid hadn’t given you a chance to do anything else as she gave you a quick hug and kiss on the cheek as thank you before dashing out of the room.
“Guess you’re stuck with me again,” You said walking over to Wednesday’s bed and letting yourself get comfortable.
“Leave me alone, bother someone else tonight.” Wednesday said promptly, this had been happening for as long as she’s known the pair. You would come to see Enid and take her out on a date but the busy werewolf always had something else going on so she’d cancel on you and leave. That wouldn’t have been much of a big deal to Wednesday if it wasn’t for the fact that every time that happened, she’d been forced to hangout with you instead.
“ ‘Y/N of course you can stay’ really? thank you so much ‘no thank you’ of course Wednesday anytime,” you said to yourself mimicking Wednesday who sent you a glare in response. “Oh come on Wednesday I really like hanging out with you, please?” You begged, Wednesday scoffed preparing herself to say no but after seeing the smile on your face she felt herself giving in immediately.
How insipid of me, a stupid smile? Seriously?
“Shut up and let me finish writing then or I’ll bury you alive somewhere no one will find you.” Wednesday threatened, you did a small cheer knowing that was her way of saying yes to you.
‘I really like hanging out with you’ Wednesday heard your voice playback in her head making her skin crawl, she tried not to pay too much attention to some of the things you’d say to her but it was hard. They were genuine, but not in the way she wanted them to be. To Wednesday it started off as mere fascination in investigating what power you had, the first time she met you was out on the balcony of her shared room with Enid on her first day at this god awful school.
Wednesday came back to her room with the intentions of arranging her half of the room in a way she’d like. The pale girl nearly hurled at the amount of color her half of the room displayed when she took notice of a dark figure outside her window, she made her way over to the balcony making sure her footsteps were inaudible because she had the intentions of threatening the unknown intruder. She readied herself with a nearby dagger she unpacked earlier that day before stepping outside through the window that had been cracked open wide enough for her to sneak out of.
There stood a tall girl overlooking the school from the balcony view, Wednesday gave her a once over seeing that she’d been wearing what looked like comfortable clothes and not something of a would-be-assailant. Black sweatpants with a burgundy pullover, and strangely enough a small light brown gourd on her back being held up by black cloth. Wednesday was about two feet away when she felt something crawl up and around her hand, it enclosed itself tightly around her fist hard enough for her to drop her dagger.
“What the hell?” The girl turned around seeing Wednesday slightly struggling to get out of her restraint. Wednesday watched as the sand slipped off her hand, between her fingertips and towards the girl in front of her, it retreated behind her in the direction of the small gourd.
‘Sand manipulation? Interesting.’ Wednesday noted carefully disregarding her fallen weapon that the other girl had finally taken notice of.
“Who are you? Why are you here?” Wednesday asked in a flat tone, studying her intruder’s appearance immediately taking note of her dark under-eyes.
“Did you just try to stab me? Are we not gonna talk about that first?”
“I don’t know you, how else was I supposed to approach you?” To be fair nothing even happened Wednesday would have only stabbed her if this stranger had been a threat, not that she’d completely ruled the possibility of that out yet. The room was assigned to Enid and her; and not whoever stood in front of her at the moment.
“So you’re Wednesday Addams? I’ve heard about you, but I didn’t think you’d try to stab me on your first day here” the taller girl laughed picking up the dagger, “oh wow is this made out of 1095 carbon steel?”
“Yes, not that it’s any of your business.” Wednesday quickly added.
“This is impressive.” The girl told Wednesday handing it back, “I’m Y/N, Y/N L/N” Wednesday gracefully accepted the dagger back and went back inside her room not wanting to continue the conversation.
After that Wednesday hadn’t seen you again until the following day, somehow the girl with the gourd was able to leave her room undetected.
Wednesday walked out of the infirmary enraged after having been beat by Bianca when all of a sudden she’d heard something shift above her, she could do nothing but watch as the heavy decorative gargoyle came speeding down towards her.
“Wednesday look out!” she heard Y/N shout from somewhere in front of her, a taller body crashed itself forcefully against her. Your left arm wrapped itself around Wednesday’s waist keeping her from falling back, your other arm quickly but gently guiding Wednesday’s head against your chest.
Wednesday couldn’t see anything because of the hold that you had on her but she heard the gargoyle break well above her, the pieces landing all around. Wednesday stood there for a few seconds, disgustingly and confusingly enough enjoying the way your warmth enveloped her smaller frame.
‘I don’t even know her,’ Wednesday mentally gagged to herself never having experienced something like that before.
“Are you okay?” You asked worriedly freeing Wednesday from your hold and grabbing her shoulders firmly checking her over for any possible wounds.
“I didn’t wanna be rescued.” Wednesday said shoving your hands away from her. The sand that’d been acting as a makeshift shield above her slowly started to retreat behind your form once again back into what she assumed was the gourd you always carried on your back.
“And you know what? I really don’t care about what you want.” You rolled your eyes dismissing Wednesday’s blunt attitude and just like yesterday she chose to ignore you, walking in the direction of her room.
“Can I follow you?” Wednesday heard you ask, she didn’t respond back expecting you to take the hint but much to her dismay you followed anyways.
“Why?” Wednesday asked you abruptly after a few minutes of walking in silence, assuming that the raven haired girl was talking about not only the incident from not too long ago but also about how persistent you were to be around her you simply replied “because I can and… I’m curious about you.”
That’s what Wednesday would tell herself once she started to look for you whenever you weren’t around.
‘She’s strong, she’ll prove herself useful in my investigation’ she insisted the first time she caught herself wandering Nevermore’s campus in search of the insomniac.
Wednesday remembers the day her curiosity should have been pacified. She’d finally found out where you derived your strength from, why then did it only invigorate her need to know more?
Wednesday had just barely started working on her novel when she caught sight of you falling asleep on her bed, no matter how many times she threatened to gut you for invading her personal sanctum you continued to do whatever you wanted.
“You have little to no regard for your life.” Wednesday once told you.
About nearly halfway an hour later Wednesday stopped typing her novel to pay closer attention to the other presence in her room. You looked so peaceful, your chest rising and falling rhythmically underneath the checkered blanket that Wednesday owned, your hair slightly messy from moving around restlessly not too long before, your soft lips slightly ajar with small steady breathes escaping between them. Wednesday’s eyes snapped back to the typewriter in front of her, her cheeks dusting with slight color at having caught herself admiring you while you were napping.
Suddenly without warning you began thrashing in your sleep, groans of pain filling Wednesday’s ears. Wednesday out of instinct shot off her seat like a bat out of hell making her way towards you, your groans were getting louder as if something was hurting you.
“Y/N? Y/N what’s wrong?” Wednesday sat right beside you as you cried out in pain, “Y/N wake up right now.” Wednesday demanded shaking you harshly with both her hands, she didn’t like this, she didn’t like the way her chest squeezed with sudden apprehension at the sound of you in obvious agony.
It took a few more seconds for you to wake up but they felt like hours to Wednesday.
You shot up from the bed gasping for air, your hands immediately finding Wednesday’s who thoughtlessly kept them firm in her grasp, you both spent the next few minutes sitting in silence.
“I’m sorry if I scared you.” You apologized letting go of Wednesday’s hands to cover your face in shame.
“You didn’t scare me, stop hiding.” Wednesday started off waiting for you to put down your hands before imploring the situation further “I’ve only ever seen my uncle fester do that in his sleep, did you have a nightmare?”
“Well sort of?” You hesitated unconsciously avoiding eye contact with the pale girl sitting in front of you, “it’s not that simple.”
“Well then make it simple,” Wednesday said immediately wanting to take her words back after seeing the crestfallen look on your face “just try okay?”
“If I sleep… this thing sealed inside me tries to take over.” In search of comfort your hand slipped into hers, what gave you the idea that’d been okay to do? To Wednesday Addams no less.
“What thing?” Wednesday asked trying her best to not be affected by your hold on her but it felt… nice.
How unsettling.
“I’m from a hidden sand village deep in the Chihuahuan desert, it’s unmarked and protected from most outsiders but that doesn’t stop ‘other’ things from finding it. My mother was about six months pregnant with me when this vicious sand demon attacked our village, people kept dying and they were having trouble finding out how to kill him when my father found out that he could seal him in someone.” Wednesday sat patiently waiting for you to continue, she could tell that you didn’t want to by the way your hand that wasn’t in hers clenched her blanket firmly.
Nobody but principal Weems and Enid knew about your personal life, everybody else in the school had their assumptions about how you were able to control sand and where you were from but all of them were wrong. Most if not all just assumed that you were a witch.
“He forced someone to seal the sand demon in me while I was still in my mother’s womb, it forced her to give birth prematurely and she died not too long after. I was cursed with this presence in me that I couldn’t control at first, I still can’t sometimes that’s why I look like I barely get any rest. If I sleep he tries to take over, I can only control him while I’m awake. I have this enchanted straight jacket that principal Weems gave me, that keeps him from taking over but it’s not exactly the most comfortable thing to sleep in.” You admitted looking down at your hand that was still being held by hers, feeling grateful that she was still letting you. You knew she hated physical touch but you’re sure she was excusing it this one time in her attempt to comfort you.
And it did comfort you.
“This sand demon you’ve been cursed with, has anyone ever tried to sedate it?” Wednesday wasn’t sure about how to help, containing it even more was the second thing that came to mind… killing it so it would never bother you again was the first.
“Everybody’s usually been too afraid to try. I’m sorry that I fell asleep here, usually I take naps in a private room at the nurses office, she’s scared of me but she usually wakes me up before it gets too bad. I’ll leave you alone.” You said hastily beginning leave before being shoved back down by the rather strong ravenette beside you.
“It can try to scare me but I’m sure you’ll find that’s close to impossible. Sleep, I’ll wake you up.” Wednesday ordered giving you a look that only dared you to say no, not wanting to provoke the dangerous girl sitting in front of you, you silently agreed giving her a small smile.
Wednesday got up from her bed, prepared to continue working on her novel when she felt your hand grab her wrist, if it’d been anyone else she would have already threatened to cut it off with a hatchet.
“Wait, can you uh- can you just sit here for a bit? Just until I fall asleep?” Wednesday glanced down at your hand, making you let go so fast she could have thought that she burned you.
Wednesday stayed silent sitting back down beside you again her cold heart slightly fluttering at the thankful look you gave her, you quickly got comfortable in her bed right after.
As much as Wednesday tried to avoid her growing attachment to you she couldn’t.
‘How troublesome of you’ Wednesday thought when you unconsciously grabbed her cold hand in your sleep.
It seemed obvious to everybody but Y/N that Enid had taken an interest to Ajax, Wednesday angrily wondered what it was that you saw in her. It’s still a line she’d never cross but it still annoyed her that of all people she could have ended up tolerating in that way; ended up being her best friend’s girlfriend.
Wednesday knew she wasn’t always the easiest person to be around but you were always around. Were you oblivious to the notion that Wednesday could treat you better? That she’d been treating you better? Or was she just something you’d fall back to whenever Enid wasn’t around? I mean to everyone else that only seemed logical; Enid was your girlfriend and Wednesday was just a friend.
A friend… was that really all you saw Wednesday as? Of course you did. Why else would you continue being in a relationship that to her you so clearly didn’t belong in?
What could Enid do that she couldn’t?
“Did you finish?” Wednesday heard you ask excitedly, watching you get up from her bed and towards her nearly tripping in the process.
“Why haven’t you left yet?” Wednesday finally snapped, she couldn’t stands being around you right now. Not when everything you did made her question herself, it was driving her insane. And not in a good way.
“What do you mean? I thought-“ you tried to say alarmed by Wednesday’s seemingly for you out of the blue anger.
“You thought what? That I wanted you to be here? I told you to bother someone else and I meant it.” Wednesday ferociously said looking at you with hate, she was determined to get rid of you no matter the consequences.
No way in hell could they be worse then this.
“What’s your problem? I’m sorry I didn’t know I just thought-“ You tried to say before Wednesday cut you off once again.
“Are you that senseless that you don’t understand how to stop annoying me even after being asked? You just thought what ? That I was kidding? That I want you here? You’ve confused my need for you in this investigation for want. How moronic of you.” Wednesday felt her body slightly shake, her hands clenched into fists as her emotional outburst was evidently getting the best of her.
Because of you.
“Besides, I don’t need you Y/N, I need that sand demon locked inside of you. You’d be worthless to me without it.” It’s as if all the rage inside her evaporated the moment she saw your eyes gloss over with tears, she’d never seen you so devastated before.
But she couldn’t take back anything she said.
The damage had already been done.
Wednesday would have preferred you yell at her, but all you did was walk away from her and out of the room.
What the fuck did she just do?
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no-nameno-face · 1 year
Text
Auburn Thoughts (Pt.2)
Pairing: Reader x Ellie Williams
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Summary:  When plans to meet up go awry, you flee. Unsure of your feelings, and convinced they are one sided, you are contacted by an old friend. You decide to do something out of character. Anything to get your mind off of her.
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, Minors do not interact. Jealousy, Angst, Alcohol, Drinking, Alcohol Abuse, Smoking Weed, vague mentions of SA, creepy guy, Anxiety (please let me know if there's any I forgot)
Author's Notes: Jealous Ellie!! Jealous Reader!! Protective Ellie!! I'm obsessed. I love jealous Ellie with my whole heart. Actively reminding myself to take this story slow… anyways I'm very excited to see where this story goes. hope you enjoy this chapter :) 
Part 1
Part 3 (With Audio)
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Back at my dorm, I find myself doodling the image of her bitten lips. Auburn thoughts.
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I wake up the next morning, tired. I stayed up too late again. Drawing. I stretch my arms above my head and squint my eyes at the light coming through my windows. Class. I have class. My brain talks but my body does not move. I’m so tired. I reach over and grab my phone, checking the time. I bolt up in my bed. Fuck, I'm going to be so late. 
I  rush to my closet and pull on a light green oversized sweatshirt I thrifted forever ago, and throw on some light wash jeans. They have light paint splatters on them but honestly most of my clothes do. Shoving socks on my feet I slip them into my white tennis shoes. On my way out I stop in the mirror and assess the damage. Bed head and bags under my eyes. I grab a hair tie and rushedly pull it up into a messy high ponytail. I poke the dark circles under my exhausted eyes but decide there's nothing I can do in the time I have, so I head out the door, turning off the lights and locking it behind me.
Sitting in my second class of the day I remember my evening plans. Suddenly I wish I had gotten a bit more ready. After class is over I rush to the bathroom and splash cold water on my face, hoping it would bring down some of the puffiness that my restless night lended me. I look at my reflection. “Fuck,” I say under my breath as I lean on the counter looking down at the running water. What is this? Don’t think too much about it. I look at myself and practice a smile, turning my face to observe. My face drops. “Shit. What is wrong with me?” I turn the faucet off and walk out of the bathroom, to my next class.
4:30, I’m early. That's okay, god knows my project could use some work. I put my headphones in and tuck my knee up to my chest resuming the apple from yesterday. I find myself checking the time regularly, and it feels like it's passing abnormally slow. 
The door opens and I turn expecting to see Ellie, but another girl walks in. I recognize her from the halls. Slender and feminine, pretty features and short dark hair. Striking honestly, especially in comparison to my drained appearance. A subtle shade of insecurity settles over me. I overlook it. She must be in a different class time than Ellie and I. Turning back to my work she sits a couple seats to the left of me. She doesn't acknowledge me, I don't think much about it. People in the art department tend to be more introverted, so this is a typical encounter. 
Shortly after resuming my work the door opens again, I turn. Green eyes. Wearing a thick flannel, jeans, and her same old sneakers. Her hair is half down today, the other half in a bun. Loose strands framing her face. I notice her freckles a bit extra today, small constellations littering her cheeks.  I smile and she returns it.
“So you decided to show up!” I say, turning back to my canvas a bit flushed.
“What? Did you think I was gonna stand you up or some shit?” she says with a smile in her voice as she makes her way to you. 
“Hey you never kn-” 
“Ellie!” A voice cuts me off. “I didn't know you were coming today!” I look to the girl sitting on my left, she's craned her head around to face Ellie beaming at her. 
“Oh!” she sounded startled. “Hi Cat.” Ellie says with a courteous smile that doesn't meet her eyes. The girl gets up and basically prances up to her, wrapping her arms around Ellies neck. Ellie's eyes meet mine as I dart back to my work. Staring past my canvas. I'm face to face with an unfamiliar pit in my stomach. I try not to listen to their conversation, my heartbeat building in my ears is loud enough to drone most of it out. Most of it. 
“It's been so long,” Cat…
“You're normally not here this late” Ellie…
“Yeah, I’ll have to start coming more often!” Cat..
Heartbeat thudding. 
“Well you should call me later! We could catch dinner when you're done here.” I feel eyes on me. “Catch up a bit.” Cat…
Louder pulsing in my ears.
Next thing I hear is the seat to my right creaks and snaps me out of it. I glance over at Ellie and can't get out of my head fast enough to say anything. I look back to my painting. She looks at me, then my painting. 
“It looks good.” Her voice comes out awkward. I notice her fidgeting with her hands. 
“Thanks.” I say without looking her way. 
“Umm, well should i grab my stuff?” she suggests.
“Actually, I didn't sleep well last night.” I say looking down at my hands in my lap. Gripping each other to keep from shaking. What is wrong with me? “I'm pretty tired.” I glimpse at her quickly then back to my hands. “I’m gonna head out.” I say standing up and start walking to the sink to rinse my brushes. Ellie gets up and tries to follow me but is stopped by Cat. Cat. 
“You can hang with me El’s,” a pang in my gut at the familiarity in the nickname. “I've got another 30 minutes or so of work to do here!” her voice reignites the thudding. All I hear is mumbles behind my own spiraling thoughts. I wash my brushes fast and carelessly, then load them, still wet, into my case. I haul my canvas away and walk out the door. I walk fast down the halls, my throat feels dry, my chest feels tight. My eyes feel prickly. I hit the wall of cold air past the front doors. What the fuck. I take a gasp of the icy air. Then head in the direction of my dorm. Heartbeat heavy.
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My phone rings. I lay on my bed staring into the ceiling. Seeing arms around her. The ringing stops. Then it starts again. I groan and reach my arm over to grab it. Chloe, my friend  who I'd rather neglected over the past art filled days. I put my phone to my ear,
“Hey chlo.”
“Hey bitch. Where the fuck have you been?” I smile at her voice, rubbing the back of my neck.
“I have this gnarly realism project in my painting class. It's taking all of the little mental capacity I have” I say, mind on Ellie. Ellie and Cat. my smile fades.
“Oh, yeah. That's shit. Well it's Saturday, and since you owe me for being MIA, you are coming out with me tonight.” To be honest, a drink sounded pretty nice right now.
“Sure, what time?”
“Wait really? You’re down?”
“Yeah, I could use a distraction.” From her.
“Period! I'll pick you up at 9! We are going for… slutty chic.” I smile down at my legs. 
“We’ll see.”
“I swear to god if you don't dress up im gonna-”
“Bye Chlo! See you at 9!” I say with a forced laugh, hanging up the phone. I throw myself back on the bed and lay there for a moment before I finally force myself to sit up and make my way to my closet. 
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[here!] My phone dings. I take one last look in my mirror, evaluating. A fitted black racer-back cropped to my upper stomach, a large key hole at the neck exposing some of my cleavage, I pull it up a bit self consciously. My skirt, a matching set to the top sits a couple inches beneath, exposing a sliver of my stomach. The fitted black skirt ends before my resting hands do. I tug at it, too short. I grab a cropped fluffy black jacket from the rack behind me and slouch it over my shoulders, then I’m bending over to pull on some black heels over my dark tights. Looking back to my reflection I look taller, elongated. 
I lean in and double check my makeup. A soft smokey eye, with a thin line of dark eyeliner. Blush and highlighter shape my nose a bit more than normal. My eyes shift to my hair, slicked back in a high ponytail, I lean my head to the side grabbing my pony and pulling it over my shoulder sighing at my reflection before I grab my black bag and head out to Chloe's car. 
I hear her before I see her, music blaring. She's applying lip gloss in her visor mirror. I climb into the passenger seat, holding my skirt down while I do so. She glances at me, “Oh my god. you look so hot.” she says, eyes boggling jokingly at me.
“Oh shut up,” I roll my eyes at her reaching my hand out to borrow her gloss, she hands it over and I apply it in the mirror of my visor just like she had done. 
The drive consists of her updating me on her sexual escapades. I smile, laugh, and gasp at her stories as we wind through the streets. This girl is wild. God, I love her. 
We pull up to a house and try to find parking among the cars lining the street. Finally finding an empty spot, she does her best attempt at parallel parking. I laugh at her focused face and multiple failed attempts. She tells me to fuck off. 
Walking up to the house We pass a group of guys, they eye us up grinning. Chloe smiles at them, I cross my arms across my chest and look at the pathway to the front door. As we get closer the music pounds in my ears getting louder until we are inside. There's a lot of people here, energy pulsing through the thick air. I feel a bit overwhelmed. Chloe, reading my face, grabs my hands.
“Drinks!” she exclaimes with a wide warm smile. Her blonde hair bouncing behind her as she turned and pulled me by the hand to a table in the living room. She pours us a shot of something clear, tapping our glasses together then on the table. The liquor going down my throat is warm and stinging. We cringe at each other and laugh at our sour faces. After another shot, this time a bit easier, I pour myself a mixed drink and sip it to get the taste out of my mouth. It's not much better, too strong, but I sip away at it. 
Chloe has drifted to the kitchen, giving eyes to some guy. I watch her touch his shoulder laughing at something he said and I smile at my now empty drink. Man, she's got game. I can feel the heat in my cheeks as the drink combines with the body heat of all these strangers. It's nice. For a moment I didnt even think about her.
Fuck.
Smile gone, I sigh and walk to the drink table, a bit wobblier than when I arrived, pouring myself another tall glass.  Maybe another drink will get the images of her out of my head. I sip at my new concoction, barely tasting it as I stumble to find a bathroom. I knock. Met with no response, I walk in and lock the door behind me. I look in the mirror and my hooded eyes look back at me. I smile at myself. I do look pretty good, I thought. I turn on the tap and run cold water over my hands, I indulge in the drunken sensation of it. 
I head back out into the crowded hall, people scattered along the wells leaning, chatting, even a couple messily making out. I subtly blanch at the boldness of it. Walking past them, eyes drifting over strangers, observing. Suddenly my eyes freeze, locked onto green. No , no, no. An exhale deepens her chest releasing a large puff of smoke from her lips. Her lips. She's sat with knees up on the couch, leaning against the arm. A blunt resting in between her fingers. Her eyes are locked on me, a look of shock shining over her already glazed eyes. Her eyes wander down my body, evaluating my every detail. Her brows furrowed a bit and I swear I saw her chew the inside of her cheek, before her eyes snaped back to mine. My eyes shift to the girl on the couch next to her. Short dark hair. My eyes trace her hand resting on Ellie’s thigh. My stomach twists. I turn sharply and walk to the kitchen, seeing everything through a tinge of green. 
I approach Chloe. She smiles at me and asks how I'm feeling. “Drunk” I respond with a small empty smile. 
“Drunk enough to dance?” she asks. Not sure if it was the liquid courage or a vengeful spirit possessing my body, I put my cup to my lips, downing the drink. I grabbed her hand and led her to the living room. Spinning her to face me, we begin swaying quickly to the beat of the music in the mass of dancing people. My hands skim up the curves of my body as we smile at each other. I tilt my head back and close my eyes, Ellie is in the darkness behind my eyelids. Then my hands are on Chloes waist turning her against me, we dance together. She’s pressed against me, my hands following the rhythm of her hips. When the song ends and transitions to another she laughs drunkenly, turning back to me and locking her hands around my neck.
“Okay, keep dancing.” I obliged. “See that guy behind me. Dark hair, tall. Definitely looking at my ass.” She looks at me with a smirk. I scan the faces in the kitchen, and locate the guy she's talking about. He was indeed staring at her ass. “Im gonna fuck him tonight. I bet you a million dollars.” 
“That's a losing horse man, I see how he's looking at you, I'm not taking those odds.” I laugh at her, shifting my eyes as we sway together, my hands resting on her waist. Images begin blurring together, until my vision locks in on the girl leaning against the entryway. Arms crossed against her chest, one hand holding her still lit blunt. Eyes pinned to mine. Darkened green. The haze of people seems to blur around her. I see her suck against her teeth, she doesn't look away. I hold her gaze while I turn and begin dancing on Chloe, now her hands roam my waist. I watch as Ellie takes a long drag. Ellie. Chloe laughs into my neck.
“Jeez. you're putting on a show! Who are you performing for?” she says over the music scanning the crowd. My eyes are on green. I feel my face flush as I see Ellie turn on her heels and head back into the hall. Could she hear us? I turn back to Chloe.
“I'm gonna take a breather.” I say with a smile. She boos me as I walk away into the kitchen, “you're up,” I nod to the guy eyeing her. He heads her way. My vision sways, and I lean against the counter. I drop my head, I feel heavy. My body feels all the gravity of the world at this moment. What the fuck did I just do.
I stand up. Turning to walk to the bathroom, suddenly too drunk. I take staggered steps down the hall, my eyes looking over the couch, once occupied. Now only the black haired girl sat there chatting with someone, I didn't care enough to see who. She probably left, my thoughts told me. Not sure if I was reassured or upset by the idea. I stumble into the door. It sways open and I follow its momentum until my hips hit the counter and my hands fall next to the sink. I look at them.
Click.
My head shot up in the mirror, Ellie was leaning against the door watching my reflection.
“Your friend’s right, that was quite the show.” she says in a dry voice, looking at me emotionless. 
“Where's your girlfriend?” My voice slurs at her, a bit harsher than I intended. The wrinkle between her brows deepen at this. 
“Is that what this is over,”  she said, rolling her blood shot eyes to the ceiling. I turn to her, leaning back against the counter. 
“This isn't over anything.” I know I'm lying. I wonder if she does too. What's your problem?” I say through squinted eyes.
“My problem?”
“Yeah, whats your fucking deal? Looking at me like that, with your girl basically on your lap.” I was too far into my drinking to be shocked by my bluntness. My green was showing. I didn't have enough sense to care. Her eyes were dark. 
“She's not my girl.”
“Okay,” I  let out a mean laugh looking up, then back to her. “Sure.” 
She steps towards me, my breath catches in my throat. “What about your girl?” She scowls at me, “The one you were dancing on,” she looks down to my hands  “touching.” Her  head still angled down but her eyes dart up to meet mine again.  She looks angry. Her eyes stir something in my stomach. This is so unlike that calm and collected sarcastic girl from class.
“What about it?” I say to her with a rude smirk, my tongue poking the inside of my cheek as I glare into her. She stares into me, her eyes drift to my lips, then back to me. Piercing me. I feel myself go pale. “Stop looking at me like that,” my voice is softer than I anticipated. A harsh contrast to my aggressive tone. “I can't handle...” my voice trails off. 
She looks at me for a second, softening the slightest amount. Contemplating. “You’re drunk.” She resigns. “Who's your ride? I think it’s time you head out.” 
“Ellie, im not your fucking responsibility. I can handle myself.” My confidence fluctuates again. I try to pass her to get to the door, stumbling over my own feet. Her hand slams against the door, holding it shut. She turns, keeping her hand on the door. 
“Dont be fucking stupid.” I gape at her. “Don't act like you didn't see all the guys watching you.” I didn't. Honestly. I only saw her. “You go out there like this and your easy fucking picking. Do you know how easy it would be for a guy to..” her voice stops. Her hand on the door squeezes into a fist, white knuckles. “I mean shit you left the door open when you came in here, what if it wasn't me that came in?” Her eyes are angry again, protective. My head pounds realizing she's right. I sigh and look down at my hands now clasped together. My liquid confidence faltered by the reminder of my fragility. 
“Fine.” I say barely above a whisper. Her eyes hesitated on me. Softening a bit more. 
“Come on,” she says, opening the door letting me out first. She trails behind me, an overwhelming presence. I walk to the living room, peering around for Chloe. She's not there. I pull my phone out and squint my eyes to keep the words from blurring together. I finally found her contact and pressed call. I hold it to my ear plugging the other one trying to hear over the music. Sent to voicemail. 
“Fuck,” I mumble under my breath. I press call again. It rings a bit longer this time, then voicemail. I turn to look at Ellie, she's closer than I expected. My heart thuds. I look up slightly to meet her eyes. I'm sure she would have stepped away if it weren't for the people surrounding us. “She's not picking up.” I say looking down to the phone in my hands then back to her. I don't know what to do, I’m nervous, too far gone to have a poker face of any kind. She looks at me with a tinge of concern in her eyes, then scans over the crowd, before redirecting her gaze to me. 
“Okay, follow me. She says as she turns and carves her way through the crowd. I follow behind her watching my feet to make sure I don’t trip when my body thuds against something.
I look up and see a man looking down at me. “Sorry sweetheart.” he smiles a toothy grin at me, scanning down my body as I back away from him.
I go to step around him, mumbling a small “excuse me,” but he steps in my path. 
“Where ya going?” he leans his head down by me, “Can I come with?” he breathes moist air onto me, the smell of alcohol hot on his breath. The sound of blood rushes in my ears. 
Suddenly, a hand on my waist. “Hey man, back the fuck up.” an aggressive voice rings. Eyes jump to see Ellie standing next to me. She's staring at him with narrow eyes, then looks at me. Her eyes are a statement. I got you. I look down to the floor. I feel her hand pulling me with her.
“Woah, dude.” he throws his hands up mockingly. “We were in the middle of something!” He called after us laughing. Her grip on me tightens, and I focus on the feel of it to drown out my anxiety.
Leading me out of the house, we get outside and my distraction disappears as she drops her hand.  Mumbling profanities under her breath, walking fast. I follow behind her and she turns to check I’m still with her. 
“Where are we going?” I ask, trying to keep up with her.
“I'm taking you home.” 
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mtr1234 · 1 month
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KOLTC fans who do not like Fitz, this post is for you. Fitz fans who do not believe people have sound arguments about why they dislike Fitz, this post is also for you.
Disclaimer:
I will mention stuff that happened in Stellarlune, so if you are not caught up with the series you might not want to continue reading.
I will try to provide quotes, but I will likely just describe the scene and what book it is in when I provide my reasons.
Also, this post will be pretty long which may or may not be a good thing depending on who you are.
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Anyway, let’s get to the reasons why I dislike Fitz. I have broken them up into three main categories, and I will be talking about aspects of Fitz’s character that I think a lot of people overlook (not the reasons that people do tend to mention: him having anger issues and being boring)
I don’t know if you guys have noticed this, but Fitz is really shady, Iike really shady (and not in a good way like our favorite shade Tam)
He has eavesdropped on Sophie and Keefe’s conversations before which I find so weird
In Lodestar, when Sophie and Keefe were communicating telepathically in that slimy location that Keefe picked out, Fitz started listening in on their conversation without their knowledge. He said it was because he was worried since he heard Sophie gasp. Personally, I do not buy this excuse. He can literally see Sophie so he could easily determine that she is not in danger. At the very least, why did he not immediately announce that he was listening once he knew Sophie was okay? In my opinion, it just feels odd, and if I were Sophie or Keefe I would feel a bit uneasy.
In Flashback, Sophie and Keefe were talking in the healing center about starting weapons training, and Sophie asks Keefe if he is down to do that (or something along those lines). Fitz immediately shouts, “I’m in!” The shady thing about this was that he was sleeping in his cot when they were talking. Now, I’m not saying that he is expected to cover his ears while they have a private convo in the healing center. But the thing is, he pretended to be asleep to listen to more of their conversation which is creepy.
The next very shady thing was the gift he gave Sophie in Legacy which was a painting he asked Keefe to make.
I always thought this was shady because, for one thing, he completely stole Keefe’s idea for a gift. Come on, a painting with a heartfelt message on the back?! That was literally what Keefe gave Sophie in Nightfall. Here comes the actual shady part though: why did he not just go to Atlantis or somewhere and have someone paint it for him? He purposefully asked Keefe to paint the confession scene between him and Sophie when he knows that Keefe likes Sophie. That is so messed up. This is made even worse by the fact that he paid Keefe when literally every elf is born with an unlimited birth fund so it was essentially worthless.
This next example happened in Legacy. I feel like a lot of people forgot about this or kind of swept in under the rug, but I think it is actually very telling of the type of person Fitz is. I am talking about when Fitz decided to search Lord Cassius’s mind to learn anything about where Alvar might be after he got away in Flashback.
There are several shady things about what happened in this scene. First of all, Fitz decided to do this even though he knew that it would make Keefe uncomfortable (Fitz would see the abuse/trauma Keefe suffered at home). Secondly, Fitz did this without even asking Keefe first or even letting him know about it. If you recall, he literally just showed up at Keefe’s house without any warning. Lastly, he tried to lie about it too. He tried to say “I’m doing this for Keefe” and “whatever I find will be helpful for Keefe”. Give me a break, we all know he did not do this out of concern for Keefe and he was caught lying in the act by Keefe himself. *I find it funny how he tried to lie about it to Keefe, when Keefe is literally the strongest empath in their world and is literally so smart even though he does not get enough credit for it.
2. When he gets mad at Sophie, the first thing he does is belittle her or try to make her feel stupid:
This first example comes from Exile when Fitz was getting mad at Sophie about what happened to his dad. Now, a lot of people like to dismiss how Fitz acted in this situation because he was under a lot of stress, but I do not think this is right to do because it absolves Fitz of any guilt instead of addressing how his behavior was wrong. The specific scene I am referring to is when, I believe, Alvar suggests that maybe Sophie can help Alden and then Fitz responds with: “Please, she’s just a kid.” What I get from this statement is that he is making Sophie feel less than, and in the process he is putting himself above her “level”. Now, one can use the excuse that he wasn’t himself and that he was torn up with grief, but he says similar things to Sophie later on in the series (when his dad is not on his deathbed) which I mention below.
This next example happens towards the end of Legacy, just before Fitz and Sophie broke up. Sophie was defending her decision to search Lord Cassius’s mind for any important information even though Fitz was already doing that (she honestly didn’t even need to do this because everyone knew he was getting nowhere and that he would never have found anything useful). Anyway, Fitz responds with: “So you thought the Moonlark needed to swoop in and take over? The leader of Team Valiant? Lady Sophie Foster? The fact that he is trying to make her feel bad about her accomplishments is a major red flag in my opinion. As someone who supposedly cares about her more than anyone, he should feel the most proud of her successes.
This third example is from Stellarlune. It’s when Fitz and Sophie have their first telepathy session after the whole “Fitzphie’s not a thing!” debacle. So, Sophie is asking Tiergan what a Cognate Inquisition is and then here comes the interjection: “Better question,” Fitz jumped in using a smug tone that made [Sophie] wish one of the buttons on her telepathy chair would turn Fitz’s into an ejector seat and launch him out of the room. “Why were you hoping to spare us from it?” I just think this is unnecessary and uncalled for; why is he trying to embarrass/ one up her in front of their mentor? (Did he forget that he is the one who joined her session, not the other way around?)
3. The last major issue I have with Fitz is the fact that he guilt trips Sophie and Keefe a lot. And, just so everybody is aware, not about minor stuff. He tries to make them feel guilty about things that are completely out of their control, and as you are reading these examples I just want you to keep in mind that elves are not equipped to handle guilt. Their mind can literally shatter if they feel too much of it (like Alden), and that’s why I think it is so horrific every time Fitz does stuff like this:
Everybody knows this one, but I am still going to put it here because it is worth mentioning. In Exile, Fitz blamed Sophie for his dad’s mind shattering. I have seen a lot of people try to say it is justified because he was going through a lot at the time, but I disagree. I think we can all agree that just because someone is going through a tough time (no matter how tough it may be), it does not give them the right to bully an innocent person.
Moving on, in Flashback, towards the end of the book Fitz makes everyone search for Alvar because he thinks he is up to something shady. When they find Alvar and question him, Keefe says that he can tell that Alvar is telling the truth. Then Fitz retorts, “Like you could tell with your mom?” In this remark, he is referring to the fact that, before she revealed her betrayal, Keefe had no idea that his mom was evil. This made me so angry on Keefe’s behalf because everyone already knows that he blames himself for everything that his mom is doing. With every revelation about his mom’s plan he sees how much worse things truly are, and that sends him into a downward spiral of guilt. For his “best friend” to say this to him is so messed up.
This is not another example, just my own thoughts about what I said above so you can skip it if you would like. I never understood why people (namely the Councillors) expected Keefe to know that his mom was evil. For one thing, his parents are literally known for never showing any physical or emotional affection to him. So, how is he supposed to be able to read his mom’s emotions if he never is close to her? Secondly, I think people are forgetting that as an empath he can only read people’s emotions. He does not know the reason why they are feeling the way that they do unless he has context. Lastly, his mom was literally erasing his memories left and right so whatever information he could even manage to glean would be wiped from his mind. Meanwhile, Fitz is literally a telepath, and he had no idea his brother was evil (and I assume he must have read his brother’s mind at least one time) so I think he needs to lay off the judgment.
In Legacy, Gisela leaves a note for Sophie to bring Keefe to Loamnore during the “showdown” (or whatever you want to call it). Anyway, Sophie does not want to do this because it is obviously a trap, and Keefe gives in and agrees to stay behind. When he makes this decision, Fitz says, “Wow, you really hate Tam that much? Because he’s the one who’ll pay the price if you’re not there—you get that right?” Is it just me or does that not sound so condescending? All I can say to this is how does he have the nerve to blame Gisela’s actions on Keefe, especially when Keefe is one of the people working the hardest to stop her? Also, it is crazy that Fitz is guilt tripping Keefe for deciding not to be bait and leaving his life in the hands of his (crazy) mom. I’m sure it’s easy for Fitz to say that because he is not the one who is being targeted by an evil mastermind who wants to experiment on him.
This last example happened in Stellarlune, so it is is quite literally very recent. Fitz and Sophie are in the school cafeteria, and they are disagreeing about next steps to take to stop the Neverseen. In that conversation Fitz says, “But sometimes it feels like you don’t realize that it’s only a matter of time before something you do gets someone else killed?” In my opinion this is a completely unfair statement to make against Sophie. First of all, since the beginning of the series she never wanted her friends involved in the fight against the Neverseen because she wanted to keep them safe. However, her friends (including Fitz) would not take no for an answer and insisted on helping. Secondly, Sophie is always going above and beyond (risking her life) to save that of others. Both times when she almost died fixing her abilities, she endured it all for the sake of becoming stronger and protecting her friends, family, and her world. That is why I think the way Fitz is trying to make her feel guilty, and put the entire weight of people’s lives on her shoulders, is so unjustified. She is literally a young girl trying to do her best to save her world from crazy powerful villains, cut her some slack.
If you made it to the end, thanks for reading. Honestly, there are many more examples that could be brought up that I’m sure a lot of you are thinking about, but I am too lazy to write all of that. I just wanted to share my thoughts because I have been seeing some people say that Fitz has had good character development throughout the series (which I just have not seen) and does not deserve all the hate so I just wanted to share why I believe Fitz is viewed the way he is by a majority of the Keeper fandom.
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stephlynndrawings · 1 year
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Fulfillment of a prompt from the @nirnwrote discord server! (i forgot this was done for a week) Prompt: "I am fed up with half measures. I deserve better."
Trigger warnings: minor abuse and mentioning of abuse, terrible mothers, traditional family bullshit, minor manipulation/gaslighting (?)
Coming back to Elden root after over fifty years of being gone was a very hard and thought out plan for Elruin Rosegrass. She had been invited back so the King of Valenwood could thank her for saving the world and helping ease the tensions in Skyrim. Of course, being back in her hometown meant having to deal with her family. Luckily, Elegrin, Revyn, and her children were usually able to shield her from her parents’ cutting words at a party they had been forced to attend.
However, the last time she saw any of them was hours prior and she had a sinking feeling that her family lured them away to get her alone. Her fears were proven true when her parents approached her, both wearing forced smiles on their faces, each holding glass flutes with wine-infused jagga. 
“Oh my darling Elruin, it’s so wonderful to see you alone.” Her mother crooned, the tone making the dragonborn’s skin itch. Her mother has never talked to her with such sweetness, it felt wrong after everything. 
“Indeed, we’ve been wanting to talk to you for a few days, but your sister and your guests have made it very hard.” Her father chuckled, noticeably skipping over the relation he had with his daughter’ “guests”. Elruin’s displeasure must of shown, however.
“Oh come now, darling. You’ve always been so sensitive, your father is simply joking. You must know that we approve of your choice in spouse, yes?” Her mother said, sidling up against her and placed her hand on her shoulder, her grip just as firm and unyielding as she remembered. 
Elruin took a deep breath, inwardly trying to keep her anxiety at bay, “Yes Mother. Sorry, Father. I’ve…Wanted to talk to you as well.” she ground out, keeping her voice even. She tried to crane her neck to look around for someone to help her out of the situation but found no one trustworthy. 
“Come now, my little Ember, let’s go get some fresh air.” Her mother spoke, breaking her out of her search. The hand on her shoulder tightened it’s grip and sharp nails started to dig into her shoulder through the neckline of her dress. She was pulled out onto a balcony overlooking the capital city of Grahtwood, the lights shining a warm gold compared to the inky black of the night. Her parents shared a look, as if trying to make sure no one was watching or following, before a hand slammed itself into Elruin’s face, the woman letting out a gasp of surprise.
“Why is it you? Why isn’t it Elegrin? She deserves to be a hero more than you ever will!” Her mother seethed, her lips drawn back in a snarl. Glassy golden eyes locked with the cold eyes of her father and something broke inside. Her father never showed her love, but at least he normally stopped her mother from laying a hand on her.  When something broke inside her, she thought it would feel cold, like it normally was, but instead, rather, she felt magma fill her viens. 
Anger bubbled up inside her and she screwed her face up before firmly grabbing the hand that had hit her, holding it away in a tight grip, “What is wrong with you? Why have you never loved me? And don’t give me any kind of crap about the stupid fucking prophecy. It has been proven to be wrong.” She demanded, swiftly catching the other hand that was aiming for her face.
“You have no right to speak to me that way, young lady!” Her mother breathed angrily, her eyes burning with rage and something close to feral. 
“You have no right to hit me! I am over sixty years old, Mother!” She refuted, spitting the term out as if it were a curse. 
After several moments of the two women glaring at each other, Elruin’s father finally stepped in, a conflicted look on his face, “Elruin, we do love you, but you made it hard for us to show it when you were a child.” He tried, holding his hands out in a calming matter. 
Both women whipped their heads to look at him, his wife wearing a look of betrayal and his daughter wearing one of pure rage.
“Mammoth shit! That’s a lie and you know it! You’ve never once tried to show me an ounce of love once I started showing signs of fire magic. You’ve believed that crazy old hag’s prophecy even thought she was high off of skooma when she said it! You chose to despise me and neglect me!” She cried, voice growing more brittle the longer she talked. She never rose her voice, if only to not embarrass herself. 
“Take back those words, you stupid girl! We gave you everything you needed and more. We could have thrown you onto the streets the second you started playing with fire, but we didn’t!” her mother hissed, pointing a finger into the brunette’s face. 
“You only gave me things because everyone around us looked up to you as holders of the Rosegrass name! If you completely ignored my needs you would have been the subject of rumors.” the daughter sneered, “But I guess that still happened when Elegrin tried to destroy the Orrery, huh?” She mocked harshly, raising her chin defiantly when her mother flinched back. 
Her mother deflated, all of her fight seeming to leave her after that comment, “Don’t remind me of that day.” She uttered weakly.
“Have I hit a sore spot, Mother? Something to be ashamed of besides me?” Elruin said harshly, her eyes narrowed, though some of the fire had since left her. She stepped back just in case, fearing another hit, but otherwise kept her mouth shut so the elder could respond.
“...That day was terrible, Elruin. We hadn’t ever dreamed of either of you doing something so heinous, so to see it with our own eyes changed us.” She breathed after a few moments of silence, her fingers playing with the long-hanging amulet around her neck. “Not enough it seems.” Elruin replied coldly, the soft chime of bells filling the air as she started to heal the bruise forming on her face. Something seemed to break in her father, watching her heal herself.
“Elruin, you were never the one destined for ruin, we should of seen that earlier on.” “Father, the prophecy was untrue. I had an actual soothsayer look at Elegrin and I and she said that there was only a prophecy over my head, not both of us. Auntie was spouting bullshit.” She said wearily, the fight having left, leaving her tired.
Just as her parents were about to say something else, a shout of Elruin’s name had the three bosmer looking over at the entryway to the ballroom, Revyn and Elegrin standing there with looks of pure fury on their faces.
Revyn strode forward first, his long legs carrying him to his wife’s side quicker than his sister-in-law’s. He placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder, the hand warm and gentle, and glared down at his in-laws.
“You are to stay away from my wife for the rest of the time we are here, or so help me Divines I-” He was cut off by a hand on his chest, his wife smiling up at him with a tired but adoring look on her face.
“It’s fine, let’s just go back to the party.” She murmured, relaxing fully when he pulled her closer before escorting her past her parents. 
Once the two were gone, Elegrin shot the two of them a nasty look, getting ready to give them her own choice words.  The sound of the party washed over Elruin in a welcoming embrace and soon she was distracted from what had happened earlier.
Days later, just as Elruin and her household were in the middle of packing up their things into the carriage that brought them, Elruin’s parents approached, wearing matching shameful looks.
“Elruin, dear, we want to apologize for everything.” Her mother lamented, her husband nodding from over her shoulder. 
The dragonborn, savior of Nirn, simply sighed a long tired sound before frowning, “I am fed up with half measures. I deserve better.”
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zablife · 2 years
Text
Not My Woman (Part 1)
Arthur x OC (Rose)
Summary: Arthur’s problems are under control when he’s with Rose. What happens when Tommy seeks to separate them? Angsty beginning with fluff at the end.
Author’s Note: Inspired by S6, Arthur gets clean. Diverges from canon since Linda does not exist and Rose is the one who inspires a change in Arthur. I’ve made Tommy and Polly the bad guys here even though I adore them. Part 1 of 4.
Warnings: Season 6 spoilers, language, mention of abortion
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Arthur slumped down into the booth, knocking over a whiskey bottle that sloshed out over the floor. His head bobbed slowly, hair messily falling into his face. Any other day John would have sat him up and ordered another round, but today was different. John had orders to keep Arthur away from Watery Lane so he would let Arthur pass out in the snug. It was better if he didn’t realize what was happening at the betting shop.
John jerked his head toward the table and Finn pocketed the empty bottles of snow. “Thanks, Finn. Now head back to the shop,” John instructed. As Finn was leaving, he turned back to John with remorse in his eyes, “Was this the only way, John?” John puffed at his cigar and watched the smoke roll away. “How the fuck should I know. We’re just toy soldiers, ain’t we?”
Arthur had protested a little on his way out, not wanting to break his promise to Rose. She had looked after him as he recovered from his addiction to snow and he was rarely drinking these days. When he felt like using, he thought back to the night he met her, the woman in room 6, at the brothel in Digbeth. She had treated him so gently, he forgot she wasn’t his girl. He found himself talking to her in jumbled thought which she somehow made sense of. When he was too tired to continue, he fell asleep clinging to her body. Tracing the outline of a rope burn on his neck, Rose prayed for Arthur to find peace. After a few weeks, Arthur had moved her out of the brothel to a small flat and gotten her a job as a laundress to show her the same care.
Even though she knew it was dangerous to get involved with a peaky blinder, Rose wanted to help Arthur. He was unlike anyone she had met since arriving. Despite the blades in his cap and the blood in his eye, there was a vulnerability she couldn’t overlook. She began caring for Arthur with a motherly instinct at first, mending his clothes, holding his hands when they shook from the tremors and sitting up with him at night when he got the Flanders blues. Although she never gave him ultimatums, Rose was strict in her care. She told Finn not to bring him anymore snow and she poured out his “medicine” from the doctor.
When Arthur was around Rose he was calm and gentle, enough so that she felt comfortable bringing her five-year old son Jack to live with her again. Arthur wanted to be a good role model for the boy and took his sobriety seriously until the family began to notice the change in him.
“I need me brother back, Pol. We can’t be seen as soft and weak right now,” Tommy worried aloud pacing his office floor.
“It’s that whore he’s keeping these days. She’s inside his head,” Polly warned.
“Right, well, that ends now. Put her on a train, get her set up in London and bring him back to Watery Lane,” Tommy instructed.
“I’ve been to see her and I don’t think he’ll give her up that easily. She’s pregnant,” Polly informed him.
“Fuck…” Tommy exhaled, falling back in his chair.
“And she won’t take a bribe, she’s too proud for that. Besides, she says she’s in love with him,” Polly watched Tommy waiting for his reply.
“Then we have to make her think it’s in her best interest to leave. Make the prospect of staying seem hopeless,” Tommy said forming a plan.
“And how do you propose we do that?” Polly asked with raised brows.
“Lies travel faster than the truth, Pol, especially for a woman like her. Arthur will believe what we tell him.”
The next morning Arthur arrived at the betting shop in a good mood, only to find Tommy and John waiting in his office. Tommy wore a sour expression. “Arthur, I’ll get straight to the point. Your woman, Rose, has been seen in the Italian neighborhood recently doing business with our enemies.” Tommy scolded.
“What, you mean her laundry deliveries? Fuck off, Tom,” Arthur said shrugging off his brother’s accusation.
“No, not that business,” Tommy said shaking his head. He lit a cigarette giving Arthur time to come to the realization on his own. Arthur only stood in silence so Tommy carried on with his lie.
“It seems she’s gone back to whoring. John has followed her, you can ask him if you don’t believe me,” Tommy eyed John cautiously, a silent reminder to stick to their story.
“Is that true, John?” Arthur asked trying to remain calm. The seed of doubt that Tommy had planted was growing.
“Yeah, it is,” John said simply before looking down at the floor.
“What are you going to do about it, brother?” Tommy asked as though Arthur had a choice in the matter.
“I’ll take care of it, Tom. Don’t worry,” Arthur said not yet knowing what to do.
Arthur was torn between his brothers and Rose. He couldn’t believe Tommy and John would lie to him. However, he couldn’t turn Rose away. She was the most stable thing he’d ever had in his life. Arthur made the difficult decision to disobey Tommy’s orders. He knew now was the time to free himself from the family. He could live the life he wanted with Rose, somewhere in the country where they could be at peace. With thoughts of his own garage and a farm with chickens, Arthur penned a farewell letter to Tommy. He could never explain it to him properly in person, especially when Tommy employed his talent for twisting words.
The letter read, “I’m leaving Birmingham to start a new life. I’ve done things for you I regret. I’ve tried to be a good man, but my hands belong to the devil. I know you’ll turn your back on me after this, maybe you’ll wish me dead, but I’m alright with it. Sometimes killing is a kindness.” He signed it and placed it in an envelope for Tommy.
Clumsy in his haste, Arthur had aroused suspicion in Tommy while leaving the note. Tommy took up the letter immediately and read it, rage coursing through him knowing his brother was leaving for good. He poured a glass of whiskey and downed it in one gulp. His brain stopped racing long enough to think and he soon realized the letter could be used to his advantage. If only he could get to his brother in time. Tommy sent John and Finn to find Arthur and Isaiah to set up his plan for Rose.
A few details, easily changed, and the letter appeared to be genuine. Rose would never question it, Tommy thought. Just as he was finishing, Isaiah arrived with a confused Rose.
“Mr. Shelby, this man said you wanted to see me because of Arthur? Is he alright?,” Rose asked with fear in her voice.
“No, he’s not, Rose. Me brother is a troubled man. I think you know that,” Tommy started to paint a picture.
“He’s gotten so much better these past months…” Rose tried to explain but Tommy put his hand up for her to stop.
“You don’t know Arthur as well as you think, love. Otherwise he wouldn’t have left. He asked me to give you this,” Tommy said handing over the note.
Rose took the paper from his outstretched hand and skimmed it quickly. Studying it to confirm it was Arthur’s handwriting, she became emotional.
“Arthur wrote this?” She asked lip trembling.
“He did, love, I’m sorry,” Tommy replied stone faced.
“Now I know you don’t have a lot of money and you’ve a son to care for. I hear that you’re also carrying my brother’s child, but I can help you. Imagine the life you could give your son in America, eh?”
Rose wiped a tear from her eye and took a shaky breath. The last line of Arthur’s letter haunted her, “sometimes killing is a kindness.” She would have to work very hard to kill his memory, but Arthur wasn’t the only person who needed her now. Tommy wordlessly offered her a cigarette and she accepted it between her fingers. She waited for Tommy to light it like the gentleman he was pretending to be. After a long drag, she exhaled and looked Tommy in the eye purposefully, her mind made up.
“Yes, my answer is yes to the offer of a new life for me and my son,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster.
“Good,” Tommy nodded thoughtfully before continuing. “Now I know a woman who can help you rid yourself of the child. You go to this address and it’ll be as though my brother never existed in your life,” Tommy said holding out a piece of paper and an envelope of money.
Rose hesitated to take the money if Tommy was suggesting she use it to get rid of Arthur’s baby. It turned her stomach to see Tommy conduct this as a business transaction. He was so different from his brother. She still loved Arthur despite the cold, cruel tone of his letter. She wondered where he could be and why he felt he couldn’t talk to her.
Arthur was oblivious, sitting in the booth at the Garrison next to John and Finn, waiting for a drink. Although he wanted to tell his brothers about his plans to leave Shelby Company Limited, he couldn’t bring himself to spoil their good mood. John kept distracting him, telling dirty stories and laughing boisterously at his own jokes. When Finn pulled out the tiny blue bottles of snow, Arthur couldn’t stop himself from taking the edge off a very stressful day.
The next thing he remembered, he was waking up in the alley. How he had gotten so off track, he wasn’t sure, but he knew he had to find Rose. Today was the day he would tell her their dreams of a quiet life were coming true. It would be hard to explain his absence from the night before without admitting he had relapsed, but he knew Rose would be patient with him. Despite his aching head and heavy limbs, he picked up his pace on the walk to Rose’s flat filled with excitement. He didn’t know that his life was already upside down.
Jack ran toward Arthur with a big grin. “Mum got me new shoes, uncle Arthur. Look!”
The shoes were indeed new and much too expensive looking for a washer woman. Arthur curled his fists at his side wondering what Rose was hiding. He thought about Tommy’s words of warning about her. Trying to control his temper in front of the boy, Arthur leaned down to ask, “Where is your mum now?”
“Dunno. Mum was really busy this morning making deliveries. She says once she gets back we’re going on a train and a big ship, but I don’t want to go. I told her I like it here,” he said
“Think for me, Jack. Where did she say you was going?” His voice was tight, anger coiled within him ready to spring free.
“A place called America,” he smiled broadly.
“Is that right?” Arthur asked tensely.
Pulling his gold watch from his pocket, he looked at the time. Rose would be finished with her deliveries soon. He couldn’t wait though. He stalked the streets looking for her until a blinder headed toward him with urgency. “Tommy says he needs you, Arthur. Better come quick.”
Giving up his search for the moment, Arthur huffed, “Fine…I’m comin’” and turned back toward the betting shop, questions about Rose multiplying in his mind.
Now that the deal was done and his problem was going away, Tommy decided to tell Arthur the awful truth about his meeting with Rose. Tommy knew Arthur would hate her so thoroughly after this that nothing could repair their relationship.
“You can’t trust women like her, Arthur. She could have gotten our whole family killed.” Tommy spoke to Arthur as though he were a child. “She gave you up and your baby because I paid her.” Tommy confessed flatly. “Did you even know she was carrying your child, brother?” He continued to twist the knife.
Arthur stumbled backward into a chair. “She…she never told me…” Arthur looked angrier than Tommy had seen him in a long time, but that was what Tommy wanted, to have his mad dog back at his side.
"What the fuck are you telling me this for, Tom?” Arthur asked hanging his head in his hands to calm the blinding pain in his head.
“Only to remind you that you have a place here with kin. So fuck Rose. Fuck whatever lies she told you. This is where you belong,” Tommy said knowing he had won.
Over the next few months, Arthur slipped back into his old habits. The day at the Garrison with John and Finn had kick started his cocaine habit once more, making him violent and erratic. No matter what he did, his memories of Rose weren’t fading though. Her face resurfaced in his dreams and he would wake looking for her, Jack and their baby.
———————————————————————————————
A year later…
“Arthur, wake up. They’ve found your woman, Rose,” Finn explained shaking Arthur by the shoulders.
“She’s not my woman…” Arthur said with a distant stare. Finn didn’t understand why Arthur would deny his love for Rose. Arthur still called out for her when he was loosing consciousness from the opium. Finn was racked with guilt about the role he had played in driving them apart, but he hadn’t known what to do at the time. No one ever went against Tommy, least of all Finn.
With his concern for his older brother’s well-being growing daily, Finn found the courage to take matters into his own hands. He took down the address he was given for Rose by the blinders who had spotted her on the street in Digbeth. If Arthur wouldn’t go to Rose, Finn was determined to bring Rose to Arthur.
Continue reading...Part 2
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theweasleysredhair · 4 years
Text
Distracted [F.W.]
Character: Fred Weasley
Word Count: 2628
Requested?: Yes/No
Summary: Fred Weasley is hot and boy, does he know it.
WARNINGS: it’s a lil spicy, read with caution. a couple of saucy comments, just the usual with fred idk.
Tags: @gracemayhateyou @criminalyetminimal @firewhisky-kisses @obsessedwithrandomthings @angelinathebook @iprobablyshipit91 @potterverseimagine @slytherineheir @kpopgirlbtssvt @rexorangecouny @mytreec @hemmoporro @thisismysketchbook @acciotwinz @shadowsinger11 @aaannabbanana @lestersglitterglue @anyasthoughts @lxncelot @harrypotter289 @starlightweasley @wand3ringr0s3 @ickle-ronniekins @sehunasbitch @cryingforcrystalpepsi @kashishwrites @girl-next-door-writes @susceptible-but-siriusexual @crissdanvers @whizbangs-78 @heart-of-tempered-steel @oh-for-merlins-sake | message or send an ask to be added/removed!
Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it
A/n: i am really feeling fred atm, so here’s an extremely self-indulgent freddie thirst fic for all my lovelies who are also irrevocably in love with him - enjoy!
~*~
PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3
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Fred Weasley knew just how to get under your skin. It was a skill he had, a talent of knowing exactly what to do to get you hot and bothered, especially when you weren’t expecting it. It was especially frustrating when you couldn’t do anything about it, considering you were stuck in limbo between being friends and being more, and whilst you liked the lingering stares and longing touches, you couldn’t help but want more with him.
You had hoped he would’ve asked you to the Yule Ball last year - in fact, everyone was insistent that he would - but then he’d asked Angelina instead, which was hard to watch - George had laughed with his brother, but had grabbed your hand under the table in comfort - and made you doubt Fred actually returned your feelings at all.
Despite this, you’d actually ended up going to the ball with an extremely cute Durmstrang boy yourself, so you weren’t completely complaining, and of course, Fred had actually ended the night with you in his arms, dancing to the musical stylings of The Weird Sisters. It was also the night of your first - and only - kiss with Fred, under the stars in the Courtyard, in front of the fountain.
It was perfect, and you thought maybe things would change between you, maybe you’d be more, however when he didn’t act any different, never mentioned it again, you decided to keep quiet about it too.
In fact, you’d been pretty good at keeping your feelings under wrap since then. Of course, everyone knew how you felt - or at the very least, suspected - but no one said a word (besides Hermione, who you’d confessed everything to after she’d asked about it, knowing she wouldn’t say a word but also that she wouldn’t stop asking until she knew the truth).
And you were fine. Everything was fine. Until you got invited to the Burrow a few weeks before summer ended, and when you’d arrived after a month or so of not seeing Fred, you’d felt winded at his first smile of greeting, and felt your heart beating out of your chest when he’d pulled you into a hug, holding you against him as you buried your face into the jumper he was wearing at the time.
His hair had been cut since you’d last seen him on the Hogwarts Express, and whilst you’d liked the long hair - had enjoyed the way it had felt as you ran your hands through it that one time you’d kissed him - you couldn’t help how attracted you were to him with shorter hair, constantly feeling the urge to tug at it whenever you saw him.
He looked especially good when his hair was all tousled, windswept - exactly like it was as you watched him sitting on his broomstick outside as he waited for his siblings to be ready to play a last practise game of Quidditch before you’d all be leaving for 12 Grimmauld Place before the school year started back up again.
You were sat at a table in the kitchen underneath the large window overlooking the garden, giving you a perfect view of the sunshine and your friends playing Quidditch. Also a perfect view of Fred wearing a tight t shirt, holding his beater’s bat behind his neck, resting it on his shoulder blades as he showed off his biceps and laughed as Ron nearly fell off his broom due to a particularly sharp dig from Ginny’s elbow.
They’d asked if you or Hermione wanted to join, however you knew you wouldn’t be much use playing Quidditch when Fred was being as distracting as his was, and besides, you had a Herbology project to work on. Hermione had also elected not to play, not having much of an interest in playing Quidditch, and instead resided in her room with a book she’d borrowed from Molly.
You glanced out of the window as the boys flew up on their broomsticks, letting the quaffle, snitch and bludgers fly out, immediately beginning to play. You’d always loved watching Quidditch at Hogwarts, cheering for your house and the excitement and thrills that came with it. There was always an added element when you knew that Fred was playing too.
He was a good beater - possibly the best in Hogwarts, tied with George - his actions fluid as he flew around the air with ease, practicing new strategies and working on his skills after a school year of being unable to play due to the Triwizard Tournament taking over.
You watched his arms clench as he hit the bludgers away, his hands grasping the bat in a way you wanted him to grasp you. Something about the way he flew around and hit the bludgers so easily made you sigh contently as you set your quill to one side, forgetting about your project.
The exercise coupled with the midday August heat meant practise didn’t last too long - much to your dismay - but enough to make Fred sweaty, clearly breathing heavily as he jumped off his broom and grabbed a water of bottle he’d discarded to one side before playing.
He downed nearly half the bottle, before wafting his t shirt a little to cool himself down, then suddenly, as if someone had taken one of your daydreams and brought it to life, he lifted the bottle and tipped it over his head, the water cascading down his hair and face.
You watched as if it were in slow motion, the water drenching his already tight-fitting t shirt, the fabric clinging to the outline of his abs as he closed his eyes and let the water cool him down.
His biceps clenched as he brought his arm back down again, and you were once again brought to the attention of his hands gripping the bottle, gaze following along his forearms as you stared at the veins protruding.
Your mouth dropped a little, heart pounding as you watched water droplets fall down his face and collarbone, as he opened his eyes and ran a hand through his now wet hair sticking to his forehead, trying to mess it up a little more.
He then pulled up the bottom of his t shirt to wring out the excess water, exposing his abdomen and suddenly you forgot how to function, barely being able to breathe as you took in the sight.
“What’s wrong?” Hermione asked as she entered the kitchen and wandered by your table, noticing your faraway look and the fact you hadn’t actually started your project yet. She grabbed some leftover food from the counter and turned to look at you.
“Fred Weasley is what’s wrong,” you grumbled, turning away from watching him reluctantly, “He’s infuriating... ly good looking.”
Hermione shook her head with a soft smile, “I really don’t know what you see in him.”
Thoughts of Fred wearing a wet t shirt danced through your mind as you swallowed harshly. “I don’t know either,” you lied.
“Well, let me know if you want any help with your project - I’ve finished mine,” Hermione offered as she headed out of the kitchen. You called out a “Thank you!” to her retreating form as your attention was pulled back to the eldest twin outside.
He was laughing at something someone had said, before he began making his way towards the back door, which so happened to be near where you were sitting.
Your heart was pounding as he entered the room, you averting your gaze from him as you pretended you were looking at anything but him.
“Like what you saw?” His voice suddenly rang out through the room. You looked over at him - it taking all your effort to not stare at the way his shirt was clinging to him - and cleared your throat, blinking up at him innocently.
“Excuse me?”
“Noticed you watching me outside, especially at the end. Darling, do you find me pouring water down myself attractive?” Fred replied with a cheeky grin shot in your direction, before heading over to a high cabinet and grabbing a glass out, filling it from the tap.
“I didn’t even notice,” you shook your head adamantly, sneakily staring at the way his drenched t shirt accentuated the way the muscles in his back moved.
Fred’s smug expression as he turned around told you he didn’t believe you in the slightest, “Are you sure? Because it definitely seemed like you were enjoying the view.”
“Don’t be daft, I’ve been here working on my Herbology project,” you gestured to the parchment in front of you, gulping as you realised you still hadn’t actually written a word down, much less even opened your textbook.
Fred smirked as he noticed this, bringing his glass of water to his lips slowly as he took a sip, “You do realise windows work two ways, right love?”
And indeed, this had been a fact you’d forgotten, in your distracted haze. You felt your heart beating faster as you hoped - prayed - he was just playing around and didn’t actually look up to see you ogling him from the window. How embarrassing.
“I am aware of that, yes,” you nearly stuttered, hoping you came across nonchalantly but knowing by the grin widening on his face that you’d failed.
“So you know I could see you checking me out, right? All your staring,“ he teased, running a hand through his wet hair and making you forget where you were for a moment.
“I wasn’t staring at you,” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest, “I was staring at George.”
“Oh yeah? If that’s true, what colour shirt was George wearing?”
You knew he knew he had you with that, as your mind went blank. Because truthfully, the only person you’d been staring at was, in fact, Fred, and you hated that he was extremely aware of that.
“Green?” You guessed, hoping your guess was miraculously correct. Watching as Fred grinned at you knowingly, you knew immediately you’d gotten it wrong.
“Red,” he corrected and you sighed helplessly.
You stood up to face him properly, pushing your hair back out of your face as you looked up at him. Fred’s eyes travelled down your frame for a few seconds, him absent-mindedly biting his lip at the sight of you.
He blinked, taking in the sight of you wearing denim shorts, fitted to your thighs - thighs he wanted wrapped around him - and his breath caught in his throat as he realised the light coloured shirt you were wearing, knotted at your waist and showing a slither of your stomach, was in fact his.
He found himself distracted, vaguely aware that you were speaking to - or rather, ranting at - him, as he stared at you, before zoning back in just as he heard you say, “I mean, what would you do if I suddenly grabbed a bottle of water and poured it over me?”
Images began flying through his head. There were a lot of things he would do, most of which involved him pressed against you and his hands all over you, preferably with you moaning his name.
“Maybe you should do it and find out,” he said completely seriously, wanting nothing more than to watch as you poured water down yourself.
You rolled your eyes, albeit feeling a tad flustered, “Can you just... change your shirt please.”
“Why, is something distracting you, love?” He asked almost innocently, tilting his head to one side - almost as if in concern, however his cocky grin told you that he knew exactly what he was doing.
You gulped, not being able to stop your eyes from wandering down to his clenched abs, covered by the wet material of his t shirt yet not leaving much to the imagination. He, of course, noticed this and saw an opportunity to tease you even more.
“Well, if you really want me out of this shirt...” he sighed playfully and shook his head with a smile, before placing his glass down and grabbing the bottom of his shirt, and pulling it - slowly - off of him.
You watched as the fabric pulled from his skin, knowing he was doing it on purpose yet not being able to turn away, your mouth dropping a little as he exposed his toned torso, shorts hanging low on his hips.
You felt your mouth go dry, eyes widening a little, both mentally cursing and proposing to him just from this sight alone.
He pulled the shirt over his head and ran a hand through his hair again, and you fought the urge to dramatically collapse back into the chair behind you as he smirked at you.
This boy was going to be the death of you.
“Fred,” you spoke warningly, forcing yourself to look back up to his eyes - which, unfortunately for you, were just as distracting.
“Y/n,” he replied with a cheeky grin, leaning back against the counter, his hands gripping onto the counter sides, making the veins in his forearms pop out, and you swore you lost the ability to breathe in that moment.
“I mean it.”
“What? I’m not doing anything,” he pretended to be innocent, “It’s too hot to wear a t shirt at the moment.”
“You’re too hot,” you mumbled under your breath, then cleared your throat, hoping he didn’t quite catch what you said. When he didn’t react, you assumed he hadn’t and continued on, “You know exactly what you’re doing. You’re insufferable.”
Fred stepped closer to you, enjoying the way your breath hitched as his hand reached out to hold your waist. He then leant forward, his face centimetres from yours, a smirk gracing his lips as his tongue darted out across his bottom lip, “You know you love me.”
“Oh do I now?” You moved a little closer, looking up into his eyes as he moved his lips subconsciously towards yours. “Yeah,” he confirmed, nodding a little, eyes half-lidded, “You do.”
He paused for a moment, his free hand reaching to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear as he cupped your jaw, “And I love you.”
“Do you?” You whispered as his lips brushed against yours gently.
“Course I do,” he mumbled, looking at you softly before pressing his lips properly against yours, the hand on your waist squeezing a little before moving to rest against the small of your back, pushing you towards him to ensure there was no space left between you.
His lips moved against yours roughly, his tongue licking into your mouth as your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down towards you. His hands guided themselves to hold the back of your thighs, just under your bum, and you only just heard the “Jump.” that he’d muttered against you, before you did as he said.
Your legs wrapped around his waist and he sat you on the table beside your long-forgotten project, him leaning you back on said table ever so slightly as he gripped your hips. One of your hands moved to lay flat on his bare chest, the other running through his still-damp hair and tugging a little just as you’d imagined.
He pulled away, breathing heavily as he continued to press kisses to your lips, moving down your jaw and towards your neck.
“Still want me to put a shirt back on?” He grinned against your skin. “Nah,” you bit your lip as he kissed just under your ear, before moving to grab his hands in yours, jumping off the table and pulling him towards the stairs, aiming to head towards his bedroom,
“I’d rather just take mine off instead.”
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Text
When He’s Not Here
Pairing: Bakugou x reader (x Kirishima)
Warnings: Cursing, implied severe nightmare(s), mentioned character death (just kinda talking about it, nothing actually happened, dw), soft Bakugou (like, really soft)
A/N: I will take this as an opportunity to welcome myself back into writing (although I never really stopped; I just wanted to work on a few personal projects that were just for me :]). Um, I don’t have much to say about this other than I actually like it! I think it turned out pretty well, so props to me 🎉.
This is technically a Kiribaku x reader, buuut TWIST, Kirishima isn’t really in this one. Mostly just y/n and Bakugou interaction. Yeah, fun.
I promise this is fluff. It’s a little angsty, but not to any extreme. Just nightmare comfort and snuggles with Blasty.
Anyway, enjoy!
-Sugar
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
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─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
You bolted upright, chest heaving, disoriented.
Everything around you was uncomfortably hot—unbearable. A sheen of sweat coated your skin, and the sheets beneath you were damp. Your heart pounded in your chest, making it hard to think, hard to breathe. Darkness pressed around you, only making it easier to see your visions again, playing over and over in your memory.
Desperate, your hands patted blindly around you, looking for something that would make it stop, something to help you feel better.
Your trembling fingers bumped into a warm, solid mound beside you and you latched onto it, hoping to find solace in this sea of fear and nothingness.
“Eijirou?” you gasped, already somehow feeling more grounded as you shook the man’s arm.
“Hm?” Rather than who you’d been expecting, a familiar rough voice emerged from the dark mass beside you.
“Katsuki?” you called out instead.
“What?” He rolled onto his back, dragging a hand over his face. “(Y/N)? What time is—”
You suddenly tackled him into a hug, burying your nose into his shoulder. “You’re alive! Thank goodness you’re okay!” You could sob with how happy you were to find that your nightmare had been little more than just a dream, that Bakugou and Kirishima weren’t dead, and that you were still safe.
“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” he asked gruffly. “And what’s got you shaking so hard? Was it another—”
“Bad dream,” you affirmed, pulling off of him and straightening. “Just a . . . dream.”
“Oh,” he muttered, sitting up.
“Sorry I woke you up. I was trying for—”
“Eijirou?”
You nodded sheepishly. “Not that I don’t want to talk to you, I just . . . forgot he wasn’t here.”
“Oh.”
Now it was coming back to you. Kirishima was away on a mission on the other side of the country. This was yours and Bakugou’s second night without him, but it still felt so foreign to have him missing from your bed. The sheets felt . . . colder and emptier with him gone. Yes, the redhead had a habit of spreading out in his sleep and snoring much louder than necessary, but both you and Katsuki (though he wouldn’t admit it out loud) had grown quite fond of his presence.
“Need anything?” the blond grunted, bringing you out of your thoughts.
“Um,” you mumbled, thinking. “Maybe some water?”
Bakugou stood without another word, sliding silently out of the bedroom and down to the kitchen. Flicking on the light, he grabbed a glass out of the cabinet.
For as long as you’d been sharing a bed, Bakugou had been aware of your recurrent nightmares. He’d always been a light sleeper, so it was unavoidable that your muffled whimpers and kicking would wake him up. He was there for you when you needed him, yes, but . . . it didn’t take long for Katsuki to realize that Eijirou was just better with this sort of thing.
Bakugou didn’t know much about emotions, or comfort for that matter. He tended to just blast his way through things and hope others did the same. He had more important things to worry about than “feelings”. But he’d be a damn fool to overlook how powerful they could be, especially when it came to you and Eijirou. Hell, even the weight of his own feelings for the two of you shook his world from time to time.
But it just wasn’t something he was good at, and it frustrated him. He had to be the best. The best of the best, especially for someone like you. You were his partner, and he’d vowed to himself to be the best boyfriend to you no matter what. Maybe he was being a coward. Shouldn’t he work on the things he wasn’t good at? Even when they didn’t come easy?
He had to at least try.
Bakugou came back into the bedroom with a fresh glass of water in his hand. You took it from him gratefully, letting the cool liquid clear your mind as it slid down your throat.
“Better?” he asked, his voice low.
“Yes. Thank you.” You set the glass on the nightstand beside you, curling back into yourself.
The blond racked his mind. What did Kirishima do? Usually as soon as the redhead was awake and cooing over you, Katsuki would try to fall back asleep. He knew you were safe with him, so what was the point in doing anything more? Besides, Bakugou’s sleep schedule wasn’t something to be messed with. But now Eijirou was gone, and you needed someone to be there for you. You were more important to Katsuki than sleep. And you were still shaking.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Bakugou finally managed.
You thought for a moment before shaking your head. “It was just a dream. I don’t want to think about it more than I need to.”
“Oh.”
Bakugou sat on the bed in silence. Now what? If you weren’t going to talk, how was he supposed to know what to do?
“What does Kirishima do? When this happens.”
You glanced at the rumpled blankets underneath you, suddenly—for seemingly no reason—shy. “He usually holds me.”
Of course he did. That was your combined solution to everything. Figures.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you threw out quickly. “I know you’re not really in a cuddly mood right now—”
Bakugou gathered you up in his arms and shoved your body into his chest. You gasped at the abrupt motion but were just as quick to relax against him, suddenly feeling secure in his strong hold. His body was a little different from Kirishima’s; still thoroughly well-muscled, but otherwise smaller and leaner. You breathed in his scent—also different, but still so heavenly familiar and sweet.
“What gave you that idea?” he asked, his chin resting gently on the top of your head.
“You, um, were facing away from me when we went to bed.”
“Tch, dumbass.” He shifted you into a more comfortable position on his lap, kissing your scalp. “Now what?” he mumbled into your hair.
“He . . . talks to me.”
“What does he say?”
“I don’t know,” you whispered. “He reassures me, I guess.”
Bakugou frowned. “How am I supposed to do that if I don’t know what your shitty nightmare was about anyway?”
He felt you stiffen in his hold, and he knew he’d messed up.
“Look,” he muttered. “I know this really isn’t my thing, but please. I’m just trying to help you.”
“Thanks,” you mumbled in a small voice.
Silence.
Bakugou didn’t mind silence. In fact, he generally preferred it. It gave him peace to think to himself, and he hated it when there was something annoying and distracting buzzing around him, especially when it was some dumb, unimportant person.
But you weren’t dumb, or unimportant to him, and this time, he felt truly uncomfortable in the quiet dark. Why weren’t you saying anything? You weren’t exactly the type to never stop talking—you could be pretty quiet yourself, actually—but even you had a tendency to fill the void with something.
If you weren’t going to do it, he might as well just get it over with.
“You said something about me being alive when you woke up, yeah?” he asked you. “Scared of me dying?”
You paused, then nodded, tightly clutching the front of his tank top.
“Nothing can kill me,” he said, trying to approach with his cocky attitude.
“. . . you know that isn’t true,” you murmured.
He scowled. “Are you doubting me or something?”
“No. You’re just . . . no one’s invincible, Katsuki. Not even you.”
Bakugou huffed. This wasn’t going the way he’d hoped. How did Eijirou do this so often? Why had Bakugou never paid enough attention? Now he was starting to feel guilty. Had he been slacking off with you?
“I think you’re amazing, ‘Tsuki,” you went on. “But I’m scared of losing you. Both of you.”
He sighed. “Now why are you worrying about that?”
“I don’t know . . . .” You shrugged. “I guess that the simple answer is because I love you. Of course I worry about something happening. I don’t—I don’t know what I’d do if one of you got hurt, or—or worse.” You bit the inside of your cheek, fighting to keep yourself from crying.
“Hey,” Bakugou said softly.
You nuzzled yourself closer into his chest, sniffling a little and taking a deep breath.
“You know you’re strong, right?” he muttered, brushing his thumb over your shoulder. “I see it in you. I have for years. I trust that you can handle anything. You’ve been through a lot.”
It was your turn to sigh. “But I don’t want to go through something like that.”
“You think anyone does?”
“Well, no. Of course not.”
“Listen. You’re talking about two of the best pro heroes there are, okay? We’ve all got each other and we can take care of ourselves, got that? Worrying about us isn’t gonna do you any favors.”
“I can’t just ‘stop worrying’,” you countered.
“Okay, but don’t put so much into it. We’re here with you now, dumbass. Enjoy it while you can.”
“. . . Eijirou’s not here.”
Bakugou paused, thinking. “‘That what all this is about?” he asked quietly.
“I don’t know. Probably.”
“I’m sure he’s safe.” Katsuki rocked you ever so slightly in his arms, settling back into the quiet night.
“Do you miss him?” you asked.
“. . . ‘course I do.”
You smirked. “Aww.”
“Hey!” he protested. “I . . . I’m not scared to say that I love him. Or you for that matter.”
“I know.” You leaned up, touching the tip of your nose to his.
He blinked in surprise at the gesture, but then smiled softly and rested his forehead against yours.
“This is weird to say,” you began after a moment, “but I can’t really sleep without him snoring in my ear like a lawnmower.”
Katsuki barked out a laugh. “Are you kidding? This is the most peaceful night’s sleep I’ve gotten since we moved in together.”
You giggled. “Okay. But don’t you miss his good-night kisses?”
“Tch,” Bakugou grumbled. “Of course not. He’s so clingy and annoying.”
“Oh? That’s not how I remember it,” you laughed. “You love it when he gets like that.”
The blond scowled in the dark. “Alright, maybe it’s not so bad.”
You hummed, resting your head on his shoulder again. “I love you both, you know,” you said. “I can’t wait until things can go back to normal.”
“Shitty hair’ll be home soon,” Bakugou assured you. He chuckled to himself. “Until then, do you want me to snore in your ear for you? How about that? Something like this?” He obnoxiously made a loud, fake snoring noise in the back of his throat, making it sound as gross as possible.
You cracked up laughing, holding him closer to you while your shoulders shook. “Eijirou does not sound like that!”
“Oh, yes, he does,” Bakugou argued playfully. “Believe me, I sleep next to him too. And for whatever reason, you like it.”
You laughed again, and Katsuki’s cheeks warmed at the sweet sound of your mirth. “It’s just too quiet without him! I’m not used to it.”
“Well how about hogging all the blankets, then? And stealing the whole bed? Would that make you feel better?” Bakugou turned your bodies so he could flop on top of you, starfishing his limbs so you couldn’t get up.
“Actually, you do do that,” you teased. “You sprawl out on the bed all the time.”
He pouted. “Do not.”
“Do too.”
“Well how about kisses then? I’m the best kisser there is, and I’ve got two partners that’ll attest to that,” he boasted proudly.
“Ooh, two partners, huh?”
“Yeah, and you’re one of them. Here, I’ll prove it.”
Before you could say anything in response, Bakugou’s lips found yours, kissing you deeply and taking your breath away. Your hand slid up to cup his cheek, holding him in place as he embraced you. His lips were so soft and sweet—he always wore chapstick before he went to bed. You couldn’t help but sigh happily as his mouth moved over yours; gentle, but still with the slightest hint of roughness to it he always carried no matter what.
Eventually he pulled back, letting you breathe.
“I do like having just the two of us here,” you admitted quietly, brushing some of his spiky bangs back from his forehead. “It’s . . . different.”
You couldn’t really see it in the dark, but he smiled. “I like it too.” He leaned in and kissed your lips once more. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” You stroked his cheek with the side of your thumb. “But maybe we shouldn’t be teasing our boyfriend while he isn’t here to defend himself.”
Bakugou snorted. “Eijirou doesn’t care. Besides, it’s all true.”
You chuckled, running your fingers through his hair and scratching at his scalp. “Thanks for making me feel better.”
Oh, that’s right, he was supposed to have been comforting you. He guessed that somehow, he’d done it. His chest swelled with pride. “Sure thing. Are you feeling alright now?”
“Yeah,” you said. “That dream was stupid anyway. It didn’t make any sense.”
“Of course it didn’t.” Katsuki pulled you into his arms again, rolling you both onto your sides so he could face you. “Shitty fucking dream. It’s not real, and it can’t hurt you. I’m here for you, got that? That’s what matters. Nothing’s going to take me away, and I mean it.” He kissed your forehead, pulling the blankets up around your shoulders again. “I fight and win for you, you know. I win for both of you. You two never leave my mind. I’m not stupid and reckless, okay? I’m careful enough so that I don’t get hurt like that.”
“I know.” You rested your head against his chest, sighing in contentment at the feeling of being held by him. It was warm and calming, comfortable and familiar. There wasn’t anywhere else you’d rather be.
“Ready to go back to sleep?” he asked you, rubbing your back.
“Yeah,” you murmured, shutting your eyes.
He hummed. “Good. I’ll see you in the morning, (Y/N).”
“Good night, Katsuki.”
Soon, the two of you drifted off to sleep, and until you awoke again at dawn, you were at peace.
“I’m home!” a voice called out by the doorway.
You jumped up from the couch, making a beeline towards the entrance of your house. “Eijirou!” you greeted happily, running up to him for a hug.
“Hey! It’s my darling, wonderful (Y/N)!” he laughed, dropping his bags and hoisting you up in his arms.
“It’s my big, strong manly man!” you countered, laughing.
He brought his face to yours, humming happily as he kissed you several times in quick succession.
“The two of you are going to make me puke.”
Eijirou let you go, setting you back down on the floor to look up at his boyfriend, who’d stepped in to greet Kirishima for himself.
“Katsuki!” he said happily, unfazed. He held out his arms, making grabby motions with his hands toward the blond.
Bakugou rolled his eyes, walking up to the redhead despite his annoyed façade. Eijirou hugged him tight, pressing a long, solid kiss to his lips.
“Group hug!” he said, pulling you in again for another hug, this time with Bakugou in the mix. “I missed you guys.”
“How was your trip?” you asked him.
“Great!” Kirishima said. “I’ll tell you everything about it as soon as I get something to eat, I’m starving.”
“I made dinner for everyone,” Bakugou said.
“So that’s why it smells amazing!” Kirishima kissed Bakugou on the cheek in thanks, then gave you another to be fair. “Let’s go then,” he said, stepping forward. “Although, I guess I should ask; did I miss anything while I was gone?”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Taglist: @aahilovetheatre​ @basicalyrandom​ @hyunmin-1404​ @kqtsukii​ @nabo39​ @pyrofanatic​​ @rainy-skys-and-bright-stars​ @sendhelpimstupid​ @sxngwoos-ash-box​ @xoxopam4​
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softxsuki · 2 years
Note
(urgent) can you please please write a 707 x reader comfort for a female reader who’s parents fight a lot and might get a divorce? I’ve been really anxious and would really appreciate it
Saeyoung Comforts Reader Whose Parents Fight A Lot and Might Divorce
Pairing: Saeyoung (707) x Fem!Reader (MC)
Warnings: Mentioning of parents arguing, mentioning of divorce, possibility of grammar errors (it's 2am, I'll proofread tomorrow in case there are any mistakes)
Genre: Angsty, kinda fluffy at the end, comfort
Post-Type: Oneshot
Word Count: 1.8k (yes, I got carried away)
Summary: In which you're fed up with your parent's constant fighting and possibility of divorce that you leave home to your special spot in your town. Saeyoung (707) tracks you down after you decline his call and comforts you as you let him in on your anxious thoughts.
[A/N: Hi anon, of course I can write this for you. I HEAVILY HEAVILY relate, hence why I probably got carried away with writing this. I kinda made Saeyoung do and say thing that I thought would be comforting for me to hear, in regard to this specific situation. Hopefully they're comforting to you as well! It's definitely not an easy thing to go through, but I hope everything works out for the best for you! My messages are open if you ever need to talk. Hope you all enjoy <3.]
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Yelling. Arguments. Fighting.
That’s all you ever hear on a daily basis now from your parents who used to be so happy together when you were younger. Where did it all go wrong? You couldn’t really piece together when their relationship started to fall apart. It’s like one day an argument erupted, and things only seemed to get worse from there as time passed.
You were tired of it. Your mother would complain to you about your father whenever you were alone with her, saying how she wanted to divorce, him. But weeks would pass, no divorce would happen, yet the fighting would continue.
You were beyond anxious, just waiting for the day when your parents would come up to you, letting you know that they would be splitting apart. Or waking up one morning and having either or them no longer living with you. You didn’t know how you’d get through something like that.
Frustrated tears clouded your vision as the yelling only got louder and louder. You couldn’t take it anymore. You grab your phone, shoving it into your pocket, and leave the noisy, toxic atmosphere as tears finally fall from your eyes.
The chilly air outside wraps around your body, showing no mercy to your exposed arms as you forgot to bring a jacket with you. You only have one destination in mind. Your secret location--a beautiful spot on top of a hill that overlooked your town. You had never seen anyone else there before, so you’d deemed it your own special spot that you went to whenever you needed some alone time.
After a few moments of walking, you feel your phone vibrating in your pocket. You check the caller I.D and see that it’s Saeyoung, your boyfriend calling you. Not wanting him to hear the quiver in your voice, evidence of your crying that still hasn’t ceased, you decline his call and shove your phone back in your pocket, deciding to ignore any other calls you get after that.
Once you finally arrive at your location, you take a seat on the grass beyond the fenced area, wanting to get a closer look at the view of your town as the sun sets in the background, illuminating every surface with a golden, fiery hue.
Your tears have dried up, having cried enough on your walk to your secret location, but you feel the bubble of anxiety in your chest release, allowing you to breathe a little easier compared to when you were at home. At your secret location, there were no problems. You didn’t have to think about your issues here, only peace flowed over you as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath.
Maybe it’s the cold breeze that you’re used to; your arms feel numb from the chilly air, but you don’t care. You don’t want to return home to the chaos that was sure to still be going on. To the possibility that your parents had already made a decision about their relationship while you were gone. You didn’t even want to think about it.
Seconds turn into minutes, and before you know it, you’ve been sitting on that hill for an hour. The cold air finally getting to you as you begin to shake, but you still make no attempts at trying to return home. The sun is long gone, as darkness surrounds you, the moon having replaced the sun’s spot on the throne in the sky.
Movement behind you made you jump, now realizing your situation. A young woman, out in the middle of nowhere, alone...at night. You jump to your feet, ready to run if you need to, but your nerves are calmed as a familiar head of red hair emerges from the darkness.
“Saeyoung?” your boyfriend's name falls from your lips as he approaches you.
“Oh thank the heavens you’re okay,” he lets out a breath and pulls you into his arms as he finally stands in front of you, “I was so worried when you didn’t pick up and the tracker showed that you were out and about. You usually aren’t out this late alone, so I thought the worst.”
You allow yourself to sit in his embrace, wrapping your own arms around his torso as you sigh into his chest.
“I’m going to ignore the part where you said ‘tracker,’ and be happy that at least you care enough to worry for me.”
“Heh,” he laughs awkwardly, “It’s only in case of an emergency. Sorry for not telling you. And hey! Of course I care about you. Why wouldn’t I care for you?”
You pull away and take a seat back on the ground, ignoring his questions, not wanting to put your thoughts in the open just yet. You wanted to enjoy the peace that your special spot brought you just for a little longer. Saeyoung sighs behind you, but moves closer to you. You feel fabric wrap around your shoulders and look to your side to see that he had placed his coat around you.
“You’re freezing, so use that to warm yourself up,” he says, taking a seat beside you.
“But you’ll get co-”
“It’s fine,” he interrupts, sending you a wink, before looking at the view before you.
A few more silent moments pass before he speaks again. “What happened?”
You know you have to talk about it. You can’t just go back home and pretend like nothing is wrong as your parents continue to argue with a divorce looming over your head.
“Just worried about my parent’s relationship,” you answer.
“They still arguing?”
Saeyoung knew about your parent’s constant fighting, but he didn’t know the extent of it since he’d never personally witnessed it before.
“Mhm. It’s only getting worse. I’m really starting to think that they’re going to get a divorce…” you trail off, trying to suppress the anxiety that threatened to return it’s hold on your heart. “I don’t know what I’ll do if that happens.”
Saeyoung reaches out to grab your cold hand in his surprisingly warm hands, and gives it a little squeeze.
“I’m sorry you have to go through something so stressful; having to worry every day whether your fears will happen or not. Though I hope they don’t, for your sake. For your family's sake. I know what it’s like to have a family fall apart--it definitely isn’t fun,” he laughs, but his eyes are filled with sadness as he looks at you.
You fall silent again, not really knowing what to say about your situation next.
“Have you thought about telling your parents how their arguing is affecting you? Maybe express your worries or fears to them directly?” he asks after a while. “Not to force you or anything. But it’s an option you have in case you’d like to talk it out with them.”
“They wouldn’t care,” you sigh, nuzzling further into Saeyoung’s coat, needing to feel some sort of comfort.
“Of course they would. You’re their daughter! Even if they’re having problems in their relationship with each other, they’ll always love and care for you. I’m sure they’d like to know if their actions are hurting you, which I know they are.”
“Hmmm,” you hum in thought.
You’d thought about talking to your parents about it, but whenever you’d try, you’d get too nervous and back down, going through yet another day of hearing their fighting.
As if reading your thoughts, Saeyoung speaks again, tugging on your hands slightly so you turn to look at him, “If you’d like I can go with you, if you’re feeling nervous about talking to them alone. Or you can come to my place for a few days until you’re ready to go back home and talk things out. If that’s what you decide to do. I’ll support whatever decision you make MC.”
“Thank you honey,” you smile genuinely at him, glad to have his company even though you originally came to your secret spot for peace and quiet, it was nice having your boyfriend there.
“It’s just scary to think that one day my parents might not be together any more. They could both be living in different homes. Like how does a relationship get there? How can you be in love with someone one moment, but a few years later, you can’t be in the same room with them without arguing about something? What happened to true love? Everlasting happiness together with your soulmate? What if that happens to me? To us?” you trail off, your anxiety once again returning.
He pulls you into his arms again, squeezing you tightly to his chest, as if his love could physically be transferred over to you.
“Hey, don’t think like that bub. No matter what happens between your parents, that has nothing to do with how your future with me will be. Unfortunately sometimes relationships don’t last. I’ve heard of many marriages that end in divorce, but after the divorce, the couple end up acting better as friends. One day when we get married, I want to live each day with you to the fullest, loving you every second that I get with you. Whatever happens afterward doesn’t matter. All that matters is right now.”
You hide your face into his chest as his words. He wants to marry you. That’s all you could think about.
“You want to marry me?” you squeak, embarrassed to say the words out loud, but needing to hear him say it again.
“Of course I want to marry you. Not right now, but one day...yeah. I can see us getting married one day,” he smiles as he looks up at the moon, imagining that day in his head.
You smile up at him, tightening your grip on him as butterflies erupt in your stomach. The thought of being married to Saeyoung one day in the future made you feel giddy inside.
“That would be nice,” you say, your anxiety long gone, “And I think I will talk to my parents about it. You’ve convinced me, but can you at least stay outside in case I need a get-away driver if things head south.”
“Of course,” he presses a soft kiss to your head and you both turn your attention back to the lights of the town below you, lighting up the darkness of the night, “For now though, let’s just enjoy this view and each other’s company. If that’s okay.”
“That sounds perfect. I’m glad I get to share my special place with you, but don’t tell anyone! It’s a secret.”
“I’m great at keeping secrets,” he winks, cuddling closer to you.
You both laugh, and continue to enjoy each other’s presence, feeling all your problems dissolve into the night. You knew you’d have to face reality eventually and talk to your parents regarding how you’ve been feeling about their arguments and possibility of divorce, but knowing Saeyoung would be by your side the whole time felt reassuring.
“Everything’ll be okay,” he whispers into your hair, leaving a gentle kiss to the top of your head, easing your thoughts.
“I know,” you say, and for the first time, it actually felt like things really would be okay.
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REQUESTS ARE OPEN :D
Posted: 11/28/2021
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slytherinnbitch · 3 years
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Day 40: Ocean
"So this is it, then?" Harry asks from his place on the same.
"I don't know what you are on about, Potter." Draco replies back tersely, averting his eyes from the piercing gaze.
"You know perfectly well what I'm on about Malfoy." Harry spits out and Draco flinches at the use of his last name. Harry hasn't called him by his last name in almost five months. He still calls him Potter on occasion but mostly out of fondness. .
"I don't." He turns around, and tries to find a viable exit route, failed he looks back at Harry.
"Then let me spell it out for you. Since you are so hell-bent on being a oblivious prat." Harry says through gritted teeth.
"Oh but that's your job," Draco mutters although Harry hears him just fine by the flash of rage.
He ignores it in favour of saying, "You are leaving right after school ends. You are going to America, which might I remind you is an ocean away and not possible to cover via Apparation."
"That's about right although you forgot to mention that I'm going to pursue my further studies there." Draco snarks back, he really shouldn't because this is Harry but it is also Potter!
"Oh did I? Must be an overlook on my part. But that doesn't explain anything."
"Explain what?"
"Why you are leaving?" Harry looks directly into his eyes and dares him silently to even utter that he is leaving for studies. Draco, of course, raises to the bait. As if that's new.
"To become a healer, to study, in case it wasn't care."
"What a load of hippogriff shit! Tell me why you are escaping, Draco?" Draco closes his eyes because that's not true. He isn't escaping anywhere. He is just going for further studies. It would be great there.
"I'm not escaping. The study courses are phenomenal there," Draco lies through his teeth. London has far better education and research scopes for Healers. He knows this, even Harry knows this, hell anyone who has a proper brain knows this.
"The truth, Draco. I want the truth, not this bullshit." Harry says patiently, although his frustration is leaking onto his face.
"Because I can, Potter." Draco drawls- he takes the way he knows best, be a prat and be over with it. Who cares if it shatters your heart and your whole being?
"What did you think, huh? That I'll say here and what? Be your perfect little boyfriend and we'll live together and then maybe someday marry each other and what everyone will be happy in the end?" Draco taunts, nevermind that that is exactly what he had been thinking before he stopped himself because he can't fall in love with Harry James Potter.
"You're doing that thing again, where you push people away rather than talk things out." Harry says with closed eyes, it's clear that he is trying to control his own anger. "Tell me, Draco. Did you even think about informing me? Or were you going to tell me about it after you had reached America? And what then? Break up with me because oh long distance is too much?" Harry's voice is perfectly calm but the tremor is noticeable to Draco.
"I...yes," he says at last and regrets immediately because Harry is upon him in an instant, crowding him against the wall.
"And did you think you would be able to skive off without so much as a goodbye? I tracked down horcruxes about which I had no idea, how had would it be for me to track you?" Harry whispers darkly against his lips and a shiver goes down Draco's spine.
"Harry...." He warns, against what? He doesn't know.
"What is it? We aren't done until you fucking talk your feelings with me." Harry's eyes flash dangerously. "I'm not giving up the best thing that's ever happened to my life because that person is too fucking coward to confess." He spits out before he taking a step back.
"Wha...." Did Harry actually say or was that an illusion? Definitely illusion.
"Fine, I will spell it out. I love you, Draco Malfoy. I'm fucking in love with you. I'm so stupidly in love with you that I'm still fucking standing here and not off to break something to take out my anger. I am so much gone in love that I'm going to freeze hell if that's what it takes to make this work." He confesses and fuck, Draco's gone. He doesn't think he is breathing. And suddenly Harry's there, asking him to take deep breaths and holding him as he slowly comes back.
"Why aren't you kissing me?" Draco asks as he regains composure.
"Why should I?" Harry challenges back.
"Because you love me and I love you and-" Harry lunges forward and kisses him.
It's unlike any other kisses they have had before, the missing element which he didn't even know was missing is there now. As his tongue plays with Harry's, he feels the love and happiness he had been missing out on. They are both mostly smiling and it's messy and it's well everything.
And he would be mad to leave this behind for some soddy American university. Mungo's have great programs and he would be enrolling here and be with Harry. That's all done and decided, he thinks as he continues to kiss his boyfriend.
Day 39: Stamp || Day 41: Broom
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thefanficmonster · 3 years
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Phone Call Anxiety
Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)
Warnings: None
Genre: FLUFF, RPF (Real Person Fic)
Summary: When wanting to make quality merch, one needs a quality team there to produce and work on quality ideas. Great minds think alike. Great eyes see alike and great hands make alike - the three keys to the formula of creating a clothing line that will be fashionable and up to his brand. Luckily, Corpse knows just who to call.
Requested by Anon. Hi hun! Thank you so much for your wonderful request, I absolutely loved the idea! Sorry you’ve had to wait for it to be turned into a fic for so long, but I still hope you come across it and give it a read in which case I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤
He’s not a fan of phone calls. Anyone who knows him even remotely is very well informed on Corpse’s distaste for phone calls and upholding a conversation over the phone. He’d even go as far as to say talking to a person face to face is less stressful for him than that previous option.
But still, seeing as how the person he’s trying to reach lives in a different state and is rather busy all the time, arranging an IRL meeting is basically impossible at the moment, and sending her a text results in running the risk of having the text overlooked or completely lost in the sea of notifications she probably gets on the daily.
Therefore, a phone call was his only proper way of reaching her. And it’s what’s got him pacing the room with his nervousness peaking.  He doesn’t know anything about this girl, nothing concrete at least. He was referred to her by Jack who brought her up in their passing conversation when Corpse mentioned how paranoid he was regarding his upcoming merch project. He specifically stated he doesn’t want anything basic and he wants the clothes to be fashionable, suitable for anyone no matter the age or gender and to be endurable. With all the love he has for his fans, he doesn’t want to give them anything less than what they deserve - the best.
“My friend’s the person you’re looking for.“ Jack said enthusiastically and confidently, “She helped me design the latest merch line I put out and I’ve never been more satisfied with my own merch. I’m planning on offering her a position in Cloak for her birthday. Make sure not to let that one slip out if you give her a call though.“ He warned half-jokingly. 
Bottom line, with that kind of intro, Corpse couldn’t help but let his interest be piqued. And so, he asked for this girl - Y/N’s contact info from Jack before he went to surf through her social media where she thankfully posted plenty of pictures of her creations, never failing to mention specifications in the caption of each picture so the viewers would get the perfect and most detailed idea of how high the standard for her work is.
And so he’s finally managed to talk himself into dialing her number that’s been sitting in his phone for weeks now. As he paces his living room, his nerves chewing him out like a dog would with a toy, listening to the ear piercing ring of the dial waiting to get picked up by the girl he’s trying to reach. 
Just then, Corpse’s head turns so that his eyes meet the glowing red numbers on his digital clock on his desk and he damn near hangs up the call right away - it’s half an hour past midnight. Fast as lightning, he removes the phone from his ear, his thumb flying over to press the red ‘end call’ button. Just then, a faint ‘hello’ reaches his ears, coming from the phone’s speaker. She’s answered the call.
He hurries to put the phone back up to his ear.
“Hey, sorry for taking so long to pick up, I ought to clean my desk eventually cause my phone was literally BURIED under a pile of papers.“ A cheerful sing-song voice rattles his stale and sleep deprived consciousness, as if awakening him from a half-dream state. “You’re either a wrong number caller or a last minute client, aren’t you? Need something done urgently?“
Corpse is taken the hell aback by her strong and downright awing first impression. Not to mention her energy at an hour unsuitable for calls. Lord knows he wouldn’t have picked up if her were in her spot. With the intention of not wasting any more of her time than necessary, he hurries to explain his situation. “Y/N, right? Um no, I’m neither actually. I was told about you by a friend, he said you were a real miracle-doer with fashion design.” He trails off for a second, not completely sure of how to hold this conversation, “Uh, sorry for the odd timed call, I lost track of time. I’ve been meaning to call you for hours now but I...I was nervous.” He cringes the second the word leaves his lips, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He doesn’t know why he wants to leave her with a great, better than realistic impression of himself but he does and as of now he deems his attempts as ultimate failures.
He hears her giggle from her end, rifling through what sounds to be papers, “Yeah, I’m her. And boy is it refreshing to get someone who’s calling with an actual purpose.” She sighs as if a weight’s been lifted off her shoulders, “And don’t worry about the phone call anxiety. Makes two of us, to be honest.”
This catches him off-guard. The last thing he’d expect is for this girl to have phone call anxiety. In fact, she appears to be a natural, God-given talent at carrying conversations and upholding chit-chat with people. Maybe he’s a little too quick to judge - probably, considering he’s ‘known’ her for less than five minutes and knows nothing but her occupation, her name and the state she lives in - but that bubbly persona she greeted him with gave off the impression that it’s immune to any and all kinds of social anxiety - or anxiety in general. To hear such an honest and counter-to-assumptions confession on her part rattles him a tiny bit. In a good way though.
“How does that work for you? Isn’t your whole job depending on your phone conversational skills?“ He doesn’t mind that he didn’t phrase that too perfectly or that he straight up blurted it out. He knows he’ll be understood. She’s obviously a person who understands. Not just something specific, but everything. She simply understands. How he drew this conclusion and how accurate it is, he may not know until further notice.
“Well...“ she sighs as if genuinely looking to give him a proper answer, “You see, after doing it for so long and having been caught off guard quite a few times with some absolutely absurd orders, I’ve grown prepared of literally ANYTHING and I have a line prepared for anything the caller has to say. I just no longer let them catch me off guard and it’s fine. Helps avoid any possible awkward silences.“
Corpse’s eyebrows shoot up, her explanation only raising more questions rather than providing answers. But he’s not gonna be the annoying dumbass asking those questions at close to 1AM and bugging her. After all, if she agrees to this partnership, they’ll be hearing and potentially seeing a lot more of each other soon. “Impressive, honestly. You’re gonna need to teach me sometime.“ He’s unaware he’s smiling until he catches his reflection in the window. However, he doesn’t bother hiding it. This conversation is actually making him feel good, serving as a reminder that he’s not the only one who periodically goes through turmoil over small things. 
She giggles again, this time the sound manages to draw a blush out of him, coating his cheeks, “I’d typically stray for revealing my secrets to professional success, but I’m willing to make an exception for you...” she pauses for a second as though she’s just now remembered something, “Oh shoot, I don’t even know your name.”
He wheezes out a nervous laugh, realizing he never introduced him, “Oh yeah, sorry, that’s my bad. My name’s Corpse, nice to meet ya.”
“Nice to meet you too, Corpse.“ Y/N replies, sounding pleased but teasing simultaneously, “Now tell me, you didn’t call me about my phone call secrets, did you? What may be the real purpose of your call?“
Oh shoot, he himself almost forgot what he was calling for. Luckily, the reference designs displayed on his computer screen remind him. “Right, well, I’ve been thinking of launching a new merch line either this month or the next, depending on how long the procedure will take, and I needed someone great on my team to make some merch actually worth the money people are paying for it. And, as I said, I was told you were in that ‘someone great’ category.”
“Told by who, if you don’t mind me asking?“ She briefly cuts him off, her voice now giving away the fact that she’s half-absent-minded in this conversation, added evidence be the ruffling of more papers on her end.
“Jack. I mean, Sean. You know, Jacksepticeye.“ Corpse explains, contemplating whether he should’ve ratted Jack out like that. Hearing the sound of delight Y/N lets out eases his worries ASAP though.
“Oh Gosh, I haven’t seen that cutie in so long! He’s like a brother to me so a friend of Jack’s is a friend of min-“ this time she cuts herself off so abruptly Corpse thought the line was cut or she hung up on him. She doesn’t let him wonder for long though, “Wait, wait, wait....Merch? And you’re friends with Jack?“ She pauses for a second once again, once again not a long enough second for Corpse to speak up. “You’re a famous YouTuber, aren’t you?“
He was completely unaware of the fact Y/N hadn’t realized he was someone famous yet. In fact, he didn’t think of it because he thought it wouldn’t be a big deal to her considering she’s friends with Jack-fucking-septiceye! In his mind, his ranking is far lower than Jack’s - despite that mindset being absurd - so the last thing he expected was for her to have some sort of impressed reaction to have been talking to him on the phone this whole time. Hell, she doesn’t even know his full YouTube name or what kind of content he produces.
“WAIT!“ She shouts urgently, startling him a tiny bit, “You’re Corpse Husband, aren’t you? Oh my God, yes you are, how didn’t I put it together sooner? Ah crap, I really need more coffee for this.“
“No! No, you need more sleep.“ Corpse hurries to correct her but is very clearly ignored or overlapped with the many sounds that are coming from her end, “What are you doing?“
“You’re getting the first rough sketch of a design by tomorrow morning.“ She says, taking a sip of whatever beverage she’s acquired for the purpose of keeping her awake, “You go ahead and get some sleep, I know exactly what I’m doing. Don’t worry about it.“
“I’m not worried about the design.“ He hurries to say before she, God forbid, hangs up on him, “It’s 1AM, woman, you need sleep! I don’t need those designs done by tomorrow. Hell, I don’t even need them this week!“
“You don’t, but I do.“ Y/N says, sounding almost breathless because of what seems to be overwhelming excitement, “You don’t get it - I’m designing merch for Corpse fucking Husband! You have any idea how crazy that is?“
“I personally would say it’s underwhelming. I mean, I’m no Pewdiepie, after all.“ He says, now sat at his desk with his free hand rubbing his temple as he stares at the designs he’s pulled up on his screen, ones he probably won’t need given that he’s now working with a professional.
“Oh, shut it.“ She chuckles, “Shut it and get some sleep, ok? I’ll talk to you in the morning.“
“Noooo...“ He leisurely stretches the word, “Tell me, Y/N, do you have Discord?” She clicks her tongue instantly, giving him a signal that the question he’s asked is bordering into the territory of ridiculous. He playfully rolls his eyes, “Alright then, lemme find you. If we’re partnering up on this, we’re both staying up.”
“You know you can just straight up tell me you don’t fully trust me with this? Like, I won’t be offended, I get it.“ She murmurs in-thought, the sound of clicking evident on her end. 
“You know you can just straight up tell me you don’t want me bothering you and want me to leave you alone?“ He mimics her statement, smirking to himself as he pulls up Discord, knowing he’s already won.
She huffs and tells him her Discord info, quickly adding a small comment, “...but only because great minds think alike. I know we’ll be getting along on this design pretty nicely.”
“Yeah, yeah, right, sure, whatever you say.“ He laughs, “Accept my friend request and let’s drop this phone call.“
“Hey! - um, before we do that, I just wanna say a quick thank you.“ Y/N murmurs quietly, as if half-hoping he doesn’t hear her.
“For what?“ Corpse asks, his brows furrowing, unsure if they’re on the same page about this gratitude.
“For never once triggering my phone call anxiety.“ She admits, “I mean, I know I said I have lines prepared for every conversation scenario possible, but you totally caught me off-guard.“ She giggles a tiny bit, now sounding dangerously close to nervous, “But, not in a bad way, if that makes sense. Sorry if it doesn’t, I need more coffee.“
“No, no, it does!“ He hurries to reassure her, “It really does. And thank you too. Thank you for, you know, tolerating my BS at this hour. God knows I would’ve ignored your call if our roles were reversed.“
He hears her scoff and can’t help but laugh, “Huh ok, I see.“ She says, sounding greatly triggered and mock-pissed at his confession, “I’ll make sure to think of that next time you call me after midnight. Or at all, ever.“
Laughing his butt off, the only thing Corpse can think of in this moment is:
Damn, this girl and I are gonna get along
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mtr1234 · 3 months
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KOLTC fans who do not like Fitz, this post is for you. Fitz fans who do not believe people have sound arguments about why they dislike Fitz, this post is also for you.
Disclaimer:
I will mention stuff that happened in Stellarlune, so if you are not caught up with the series you might not want to continue reading.
I will try to provide quotes, but I will likely just describe the scene and what book it is in when I provide my reasons.
Also, this post will be pretty long which may or may not be a good thing depending on who you are.
______________________________________________________________
Anyway, let’s get to the reasons why I dislike Fitz. I have broken them up into three main categories, and I will be talking about aspects of Fitz’s character that I think a lot of people overlook (not the reasons that people do tend to mention: him having anger issues and being boring)
I don’t know if you guys have noticed this, but Fitz is really shady, Iike really shady (and not in a good way like our favorite shade Tam)
He has eavesdropped on Sophie and Keefe’s conversations before which I find so weird
In Lodestar, when Sophie and Keefe were communicating telepathically in that slimy location that Keefe picked out, Fitz started listening in on their conversation without their knowledge. He said it was because he was worried since he heard Sophie gasp. Personally, I do not buy this excuse. He can literally see Sophie so he could easily determine that she is not in danger. At the very least, why did he not immediately announce that he was listening once he knew Sophie was okay? In my opinion, it just feels odd, and if I were Sophie or Keefe I would feel a bit uneasy.
In Flashback, Sophie and Keefe were talking in the healing center about starting weapons training, and Sophie asks Keefe if he is down to do that (or something along those lines). Fitz immediately shouts, “I’m in!” The shady thing about this was that he was sleeping in his cot when they were talking. Now, I’m not saying that he is expected to cover his ears while they have a private convo in the healing center. But the thing is, he pretended to be asleep to listen to more of their conversation which is creepy.
The next very shady thing was the gift he gave Sophie in Legacy which was a painting he asked Keefe to make.
I always thought this was shady because, for one thing, he completely stole Keefe’s idea for a gift. Come on, a painting with a heartfelt message on the back?! That was literally what Keefe gave Sophie in Nightfall. Here comes the actual shady part though: why did he not just go to Atlantis or somewhere and have someone paint it for him? He purposefully asked Keefe to paint the confession scene between him and Sophie when he knows that Keefe likes Sophie. That is so messed up. This is made even worse by the fact that he paid Keefe when literally every elf is born with an unlimited birth fund so it was essentially worthless.
This next example happened in Legacy. I feel like a lot of people forgot about this or kind of swept in under the rug, but I think it is actually very telling of the type of person Fitz is. I am talking about when Fitz decided to search Lord Cassius’s mind to learn anything about where Alvar might be after he got away in Flashback.
There are several shady things about what happened in this scene. First of all, Fitz decided to do this even though he knew that it would make Keefe uncomfortable (Fitz would see the abuse/trauma Keefe suffered at home). Secondly, Fitz did this without even asking Keefe first or even letting him know about it. If you recall, he literally just showed up at Keefe’s house without any warning. Lastly, he tried to lie about it too. He tried to say “I’m doing this for Keefe” and “whatever I find will be helpful for Keefe”. Give me a break, we all know he did not do this out of concern for Keefe and he was caught lying in the act by Keefe himself. *I find it funny how he tried to lie about it to Keefe, when Keefe is literally the strongest empath in their world and is literally so smart even though he does not get enough credit for it.
2. When he gets mad at Sophie, the first thing he does is belittle her or try to make her feel stupid:
This first example comes from Exile when Fitz was getting mad at Sophie about what happened to his dad. Now, a lot of people like to dismiss how Fitz acted in this situation because he was under a lot of stress, but I do not think this is right to do because it absolves Fitz of any guilt instead of addressing how his behavior was wrong. The specific scene I am referring to is when, I believe, Alvar suggests that maybe Sophie can help Alden and then Fitz responds with: “Please, she’s just a kid.” What I get from this statement is that he is making Sophie feel less than, and in the process he is putting himself above her “level”. Now, one can use the excuse that he wasn’t himself and that he was torn up with grief, but he says similar things to Sophie later on in the series (when his dad is not on his deathbed) which I mention below.
This next example happens towards the end of Legacy, just before Fitz and Sophie broke up. Sophie was defending her decision to search Lord Cassius’s mind for any important information even though Fitz was already doing that (she honestly didn’t even need to do this because everyone knew he was getting nowhere and that he would never have found anything useful). Anyway, Fitz responds with: “So you thought the Moonlark needed to swoop in and take over? The leader of Team Valiant? Lady Sophie Foster? The fact that he is trying to make her feel bad about her accomplishments is a major red flag in my opinion. As someone who supposedly cares about her more than anyone, he should feel the most proud of her successes.
This third example is from Stellarlune. It’s when Fitz and Sophie have their first telepathy session after the whole “Fitzphie’s not a thing!” debacle. So, Sophie is asking Tiergan what a Cognate Inquisition is and then here comes the interjection: “Better question,” Fitz jumped in using a smug tone that made [Sophie] wish one of the buttons on her telepathy chair would turn Fitz’s into an ejector seat and launch him out of the room. “Why were you hoping to spare us from it?” I just think this is unnecessary and uncalled for; why is he trying to embarrass/ one up her in front of their mentor? (Did he forget that he is the one who joined her session, not the other way around?)
3. The last major issue I have with Fitz is the fact that he guilt trips Sophie and Keefe a lot. And, just so everybody is aware, not about minor stuff. He tries to make them feel guilty about things that are completely out of their control, and as you are reading these examples I just want you to keep in mind that elves are not equipped to handle guilt. Their mind can literally shatter if they feel too much of it (like Alden), and that’s why I think it is so horrific every time Fitz does stuff like this:
Everybody knows this one, but I am still going to put it here because it is worth mentioning. In Exile, Fitz blamed Sophie for his dad’s mind shattering. I have seen a lot of people try to say it is justified because he was going through a lot at the time, but I disagree. I think we can all agree that just because someone is going through a tough time (no matter how tough it may be), it does not give them the right to bully an innocent person.
Moving on, in Flashback, towards the end of the book Fitz makes everyone search for Alvar because he thinks he is up to something shady. When they find Alvar and question him, Keefe says that he can tell that Alvar is telling the truth. Then Fitz retorts, “Like you could tell with your mom?” In this remark, he is referring to the fact that, before she revealed her betrayal, Keefe had no idea that his mom was evil. This made me so angry on Keefe’s behalf because everyone already knows that he blames himself for everything that his mom is doing. With every revelation about his mom’s plan he sees how much worse things truly are, and that sends him into a downward spiral of guilt. For his “best friend” to say this to him is so messed up.
This is not another example, just my own thoughts about what I said above so you can skip it if you would like. I never understood why people (namely the Councillors) expected Keefe to know that his mom was evil. For one thing, his parents are literally known for never showing any physical or emotional affection to him. So, how is he supposed to be able to read his mom’s emotions if he never is close to her? Secondly, I think people are forgetting that as an empath he can only read people’s emotions. He does not know the reason why they are feeling the way that they do unless he has context. Lastly, his mom was literally erasing his memories left and right so whatever information he could even manage to glean would be wiped from his mind. Meanwhile, Fitz is literally a telepath, and he had no idea his brother was evil (and I assume he must have read his brother’s mind at least one time) so I think he needs to lay off the judgment.
In Legacy, Gisela leaves a note for Sophie to bring Keefe to Loamnore during the “showdown” (or whatever you want to call it). Anyway, Sophie does not want to do this because it is obviously a trap, and Keefe gives in and agrees to stay behind. When he makes this decision, Fitz says, “Wow, you really hate Tam that much? Because he’s the one who’ll pay the price if you’re not there—you get that right?” Is it just me or does that not sound so condescending? All I can say to this is how does he have the nerve to blame Gisela’s actions on Keefe, especially when Keefe is one of the people working the hardest to stop her? Also, it is crazy that Fitz is guilt tripping Keefe for deciding not to be bait and leaving his life in the hands of his (crazy) mom. I’m sure it’s easy for Fitz to say that because he is not the one who is being targeted by an evil mastermind who wants to experiment on him.
This last example happened in Stellarlune, so it is is quite literally very recent. Fitz and Sophie are in the school cafeteria, and they are disagreeing about next steps to take to stop the Neverseen. In that conversation Fitz says, “But sometimes it feels like you don’t realize that it’s only a matter of time before something you do gets someone else killed?” In my opinion this is a completely unfair statement to make against Sophie. First of all, since the beginning of the series she never wanted her friends involved in the fight against the Neverseen because she wanted to keep them safe. However, her friends (including Fitz) would not take no for an answer and insisted on helping. Secondly, Sophie is always going above and beyond (risking her life) to save that of others. Both times when she almost died fixing her abilities, she endured it all for the sake of becoming stronger and protecting her friends, family, and her world. That is why I think the way Fitz is trying to make her feel guilty, and put the entire weight of people’s lives on her shoulders, is so unjustified. She is literally a young girl trying to do her best to save her world from crazy powerful villains, cut her some slack.
If you made it to the end, thanks for reading. Honestly, there are many more examples that could be brought up that I’m sure a lot of you are thinking about, but I am too lazy to write all of that. I just wanted to share my thoughts because I have been seeing some people say that Fitz has had good character development throughout the series (which I just have not seen) and does not deserve all the hate so I just wanted to share why I believe Fitz is viewed the way he is by a majority of the Keeper fandom.
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solarwonux · 3 years
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8. “We need to talk about what happened last night.”
25.  “It’s an office with huge windows, everyone can see.” “So?”
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marketing director!mingyu x f!reader
w.c: 2.6k
warnings: a little bitt of angst, a little bit of fluff, suggestive themes like voyeurism briefly mentioned
note: ngl, I’m sorry not my best work but I TRIED. Let me know your thoughts it would really help me out a lot. Thank you for reading.xx
masterlist || prompt list
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Kim Mingyu - Marketing Director
The nameplate on the door sends a shiver up your spine, knowing that the man you had accidentally pulled in for a drunk kiss the night before during the weekly company bonding dinner, was sitting just behind the door. He was pissed, had pushed you away, made a big deal in wiping his mouth with the back of his hand in disgust. Causing you to sober up quickly and regretting it.
It’s no secret that God had taken his sweet time when creating Kim Mingyu Marketing Director of GoSe Enterprises. He put all the Greek Gods you spent your free time reading about to shame. You’ve been crushing on him since he sat in the cubicle next to yours for years. The two of you had developed a nice easy-going friendship. He was sweet, funny, and always offered amazing advice, both on personal and professional matters. You were practically head over heals for him.
Then the promotion came, granting Mingyu with an office on the southside of the company building. Huge windows overlooking the city below, and the office. A nice fancy gold nameplate with his new job description underneath it. Naturally, the two of you grew apart, ripped from one another without a warning. He was no longer rooting for you and your ideas. Instead, he was the one turning down all your project proposals. He was the one assigning you the revision tasks he knew you hated doing. He was the reason for the random spikes of anxiety throughout the workday. He was no longer your friend, he was your supervisor. His soft demeanor and fleeting touches were nowhere to be found. Lost amongst piles of paperwork surrounding his desk. 
You took a deep breath holding your laptop close against your chest, eyeing the nameplate on the large dark wooden door that took your Mingyu away from you a year ago. You were nervous. He only ever called you down to his office if you had a proposal revision due, which this time you didn’t. 
The last idea you had pitched two weeks ago was turned down before you could finish your sentence during your first PowerPoint slide. He didn’t even give you the chance to improve it, simply said, “trash it, it’s not worth wasting your time when it’s not a plausible option.” So, the only other option left and the one that made sense was your slip-up the night before. He had called you down to ask for your resignation letter for breaking company policy. 
“If you keep staring at the door it won’t magically open,” Chan spoke next to you making you jump. “I’m just saying.” He shrugged sheepishly and opened the door, walking in with confidence. “Mingyu I have the copies you asked for.” 
You filed in after him, situating yourself close to the wall and by the door, while Mingyu instructed Chan on where to set down the copies. Your heart was beating rapidly against your chest, watching as the two of them laughed about some inside joke they had. The anger along with jealousy boiled with fever deep within you. 
This was the problem. Mingyu had only changed when it came to you. With everyone else he was the same Mingyu you once had the pleasure of knowing, and that not only confused you but it made you angry. “Are we still on for guys' night this friday?” Chan asked the older male pointing finger guns at him. 
“Yes, of course, drinks are on Seungcheol this time, which makes my wallet really happy.” Mingyu clapped Chan on the back and led him towards his office door. “Same bar with the cute bartender?” He emphasized, his angry gaze falling on you for a second. 
Subtle you silently scoffed rolling your eyes, holding your laptop as close to your body as humanly possible.If he didn’t make his distaste towards you obvious by his reaction last night, he surely made it painfully clear just now. 
“That’s the one.” Chan nodded, sending you a pitying look, one you didn’t need. You knew you were fucked. 
Everyone knew about your painful crush on Mingyu. Everyone had seen you grab the collar of his dark maroon shirt last night and plant a wet alcohol filled kiss against his lips. Everyone had seen the way he reacted, yanking his suit jacket off the back of his chair and walking out of the bar pissed. So, you didn’t need the various pitying looks you were getting since the moment you walked in that morning.
“Alright then I’ll see you then, don’t forget to turn in your proposal by tomorrow night, Jeonghan keeps bugging me about it.” 
Chan sighed, hitting his forehead with the palm of his hand, “shit, I’ll have it done by tomorrow morning.” He said quickly before speed walking back to his cubicle. Leaving you alone to face the problem you had caused. 
Mingyu laughed lightly, shaking his head as he shut the door to his office, “I knew he forgot.” He mumbled before straightening his back, the scowl you were used to seeing appeared on his face once again. He walked past you to his desk, taking a seat next to his name plate. You stayed put, looking down at the floor, only counting the tiny dust bunnies that were visible to your eye. 
Mingyu cleared his throat, “We need to talk about what happened last night.” 
You raised your head pushing yourself off the wall and walked to him. Stopping behind one of the leather chairs in front of his desk. “Don’t need to, It’s my fault for breaking company policy. I’ll hand in my resignation letter to Jeonghan tonight.” You kept your eyes trained on the skyscraper reflecting through the window behind him. Anything was better than looking at him right now. 
He sighed, running a frustrated hand across his face. He pushed himself away from his desk and took a step forward. “I didn’t call you in here to ask you to resign.” 
Confused, you tore your eyes from the building behind him and looked at him. The bags under his eyes that had started to form from lack of sleep and overwork were now more prominent than before. It made you wonder if he hadn’t slept last night because of you, but then you remembered the huge project he was currently working on, so you casted that thought aside.
“Oh then...I-umm, why am I here?” 
“Do you have any idea the position you put me in last night?” He furrowed his brows, placing a knee down on the chair in front of him. He leaned his forearms against the back of it, closing the distance you purposely kept between the two of you. 
You took a step back, scrunching your nose, “I don’t understand. You don’t want me to resign. If I’m not getting penalized then why am I here?” You dropped your arms in defeat. “If you called me in here to tell me you’re not interested in me, you don’t have to. I already know.” You finished swallowing the lump that had formed at the back of your throat. 
“That’s the problem.” Mingyu pointed an accusing finger at you before retreating it. “I am interested in you, more than interested in you. I have strong feelings for you and I can’t act on them because I don’t want everyone to think that I favor you, because I do.” 
I’m dreaming, you thought pressing the palm of your hand against your heated forehead. You had to be dreaming, life has never been this giving to you, “wait I’m confused...you ran out last night, literally pushed me away, disgusted. Do you have any idea how that felt? I had to sit down and face our co-workers with a fake smile on my face because I didn’t want them to see me cry.” 
Mingyu’s face softened, he gripped the back of the chair hard enough for his knuckles to almost turn white. “I know and I’m sorry but if I had stayed then I would’ve kept kissing you. You have no idea how badly I’ve been wanting to do that.” He dropped his head releasing a shuddering breath. “Every time we stayed here working over time, the only thing I could think about was how easy it’d be if I just leaned over a little more and kissed you. No one would be around, no one would see, it would just be our little secret. But the stupid company policy always seemed to find it’s way into my head and I never let myself cross that boundary.”
“Mingyu w-why are you telling me this now? Even if we have feelings for one another, my job is important to me and I don’t want to risk getting fired because we’re together.” You blinked rapidly, now was not the time to cry. You could cry later in the communal bathroom across the hall, or on the bus ride home, just anywhere but here. 
“Well,” Mingyu rounded the corner of the chairs and made his way to you, finally closing the distance. “I talked to Jeonghan -”
“Wait you told him we kissed?” You were sure your eyes were bulging out of their sockets as the realization hit you. Of course, Mingyu wasn’t going to fire you, he was saving himself the burden and having Jeonghan do it for him. 
He chuckled, placing a hand against your hip making you jump, “Just how drunk were you last night? Jeonghan was there when it happened. He called me and threatened to fire me for leaving you the way I did.” He whispered, circling his arm around you and pulling you close, making you stumble from the sudden impact. “H’said, fuck company policy and that I was stupid for following it when no one does.” 
“Wait are you saying th -” 
“Yes we can be together as long as we keep our work and personal lives separate, so, no sex in my office.” 
You gasped hitting his chest lightly, this lewd side of Mingyu was one you had never seen before. Or at least you had but in a much more subtle way. “Well of course, we can’t do that. That was never going to be part of the deal.” The thought of him pressing you against his desk after hours sent a thrilling shiver up your spine. You bit your lip, shaking your head. No, not allowed, focus. 
“Why not? I’ve slept on the couch here a few times. It's pretty comfortable.” He reassured, hooking his thumb in the belt loops of your dark slacks. “And your ass looks so good in these pants, I literally have to make it my mission to not stare.” 
“I’m flattered, I guess. But look around Gyu.” His gaze followed your hand as you waved it around in front of him. “It’s an office with huge windows, everyone can see -” 
He pulled you closer, eloping your body in both of his arms, “so?” He tilted his head to the side, a smirk playing against his lips. You had forgotten how much he liked to tease you. 
“So?” You rolled your eyes, “were you not listening to what I was saying everyone can see.” You emphasized, poking his cheek with your index finger. 
Mingyu bit his bottom lip trying to suppress his laughter. He forgot how easily flustered you could get, especially when he would say something out of pocket to you. Sure, half of the time you would ignore him, sometimes you would simply roll your eyes, focused on whatever you were working on. Other times he would leave you at a loss for words.
“Frankly, I don’t see the problem. We can just wait until everyone goes home and then give whoever is walking by a free show.” He finished raising his eyebrows suggestively at you. 
You rolled your eyes, pushing him away and walked to his door. “I can’t believe you’re already thinking about having sex with me and you haven’t even asked me out on a date or to be your girlfriend.” You pushed his door open and walked out, “the audacity you have Kim Mingyu.” 
He felt panic surge through him, his big mouth getting the best of him once again. “Woah woah wait I was getting there, you didn’t give me the chance to ask.” He followed you out the door, trying to keep up with your hasty steps. Who knew you could walk so fast in heels. 
Once you were at your cubicle you sat down, placing your laptop on top of your desk, waking it up. “Too late, company policy says we have to keep our work and personal lives separate, guess you’re going to have to wait a while.” You look at the digital clock on your desk, “Five and a half hours to be exact.” 
Mingyu threw his head back, frustrated. As much as he enjoyed teasing you, he had forgotten that you were equally as evil if not worse. He had waited to ask you out for more than two years and now that he could, he literally couldn’t wait five and a half hours.
“Friday, after work?” He whispered, covering the side of his mouth with his hand to make it look less suspicious. It wasn’t working.
“What about guys night and that cute bartender?” You smirked, clicking around your computer opening the files you were working on earlier. 
Mingyu took a deep breath and grabbed the back of your chair, swinging it around ripping you away from your computer screen. “Fuck guys night honey, I’m taking you home, cooking you the best meal you’ve ever had and then -” He stopped peaking over your cubicle. Everyone that had tuned in to your debacle, quickly scrambled to focus on whatever they were doing before you and Mingyu walked in. He nodded once before leaning down, his lips close to your ear, whispering, “then I’m going to fuck you against my window so everyone can see that you’re finally mine.” 
You bit your lip to keep yourself from moaning.You put your hand on his chest and leaned in, placing a soft kiss against the shell of his ear. “Kinky, ask me again in five and a half hours.” You gave his cheek a gentle pat before pushing him away, returning your attention to what you were doing. 
Mingyu grumbled, shoulders slumped as he dragged himself back to his office. You stifled a laugh, the butterflies you had once felt for him returning. 
“You know I heard all of that.” Soonyoung spoke, peeking his head into your cubicle, his eyes wide like he had just seen a ghost, or something utterly disgusting.
Fuck! Mingyu! You whined silently before turning to face your cubicle mate. “I’ll buy you lunch if you pretend like you didn’t hear anything.” 
He put a pensive hand on his chin before sticking his hand out for you to shake. “Deal, I suddenly have been overcome with amnesia, whatever happened in the last five minutes I do not remember, that’s only if you promise to also finish revising this project proposal for me.” He waved the large packet of white copy paper in front of you. 
You groaned, “that wasn’t part of the deal we just shook on.” 
He sucked in air, “I don’t remember that.” He pouted. “I have amnesia, remember.” 
“Fuck fine.”
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erensangel444 · 3 years
Text
just a humble bounty hunter
spike spiegel x reader
DNI if not 16+ thank you!
cowboy bebop fr fr is one of my favorite animes it’s just 😘
this fic is spike x fem!reader, if you guys would want to see some gender-neutral fics just let me know in my asks inbox! i’m open to any suggestions if you want a fic that’s specifically tailored to you whether that be race-wise, gender-wise, any disabilities, etc,. just let me know!
likes/reblogs/comments are always appreciated:D
this fic has been proofread but if i missed something just let me know!
a/n: i want this life plz. ALSO, I LOVE THIS TROPE: two unemotionally available people whose hearts are taken by another, but for some reason, they can’t have the person they want, so they seek out each other for comfort(aka sex), and eventually, it turns in to something more, and there’s a little bit of angst, but in the end, their hearts belong to one another now. IM GONNA CRY :,) i don’t know if that made any sense but ya feel me???
okay don’t beat me up....but this has a cliche confessing-our-love-in-the-rain scene. IM A SUCKER FOR THE CLICHES OKAY?!! also faye’s lowkey a cock-blocker in this?? I LOVE HER THO, i want her to stomp on me.
warnings: language(most of my fics do contain language), stealing, use of drugs(just weed), violence(no death), germs?? bc transfer of something from one person’s mouth to another(just a cherry stem), alcohol consumption, smut; dry humping, unprotected sex w/ creampie, cumplay, oral(male!receiving), mentions of public sex, degradation + praise, 
word count:
summary: attempting to forget the past with a cowboy, unknowingly creating a future.
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you could hear the thrum of electricity throughout the bebop. you slid open your door, the lights near the bottom of the wall lighting the walkway. you walked into the kitchen, the room dark beside the moonlight shining in through the open gateway. you grabbed a soda from the fridge, walking towards the open entrance of the bebop.
you could make out spike’s figure in the distance, the slight flare from his cigarette making him easily distinguishable. you opened your soda, spike’s head turning at the sound. he noticed it was you, taking another puff from his cigarette before smiling at you and turning back around.
you had landed on cacri, a possible bounty in the area. the ship sat in the water for tonight, in a bay that was a docking area for ships. it overlooked the city, and if you turned to the other side, the sea stretched for miles fading into a distance of nothingness. 
you walked over to spike, who was standing at the edge of the ship. you sat down, your legs hanging off of the ship. you set your soda down, sitting back on your arms. “rough night?” you joked, the soft waves of the water brushing against the ship. 
you heard spike chuckle from above you, muttering as he held the cigarette in between his lips, “you could say that,”. you looked up at him, spike already looking down at you. he pulled the cigarette from his lips, holding it out to you, to which you shook your head left and right.
“i prefer more medicinal herbs,” you sighed jokingly, spike smiling down at you. “to each their own,” he mumbled with the cigarette in between his lips, looking back out to the water. you laid your back down on the ship, looking up at the stars. “god that’s what i need right now, some weed,” you declared, sitting back up.  “i’ll be back,” you said, standing up and grabbing your soda from the walkway of the ship. “i’ll come with you,” spike offered, rushing to catch up with you. you pouted mockingly, “think i can’t handle myself?”. you walked into the kitchen with spike, setting your soda down on the island. 
“you’ve shown full and well you can handle yourself,” spike praised, smirking at you, “maybe i’m just interested in partaking in some of those medicinal herbs,”.
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you and spike crammed into your tight ship, the sound of the ship taking off causing ripples along the water. spike had found a 24-hour dispensary not too far away, and you set the ship down about a block away. you walked in, the bell on the door ringing.
a woman sat behind the cash register, smacking her gum loudly. she looked up at you and spike, giving the pair of you an uninterested stare before looking back down at her nail filer.
you looked at spike, raising one eyebrow with a soft smile, spike laughing softly. you walked through the store, grabbing rolling paper and a bag of weed, a strain called “strawnana”. spike couldn’t help but pick up gummy bear edibles, and so you headed to the cashier placing it all out on the countertop in front of you. 
“id,” the cashier grumbled. you realized that you hadn’t brought your id and turned towards spike, looking for a solution. “we forgot em’” spike said plainly. the cashier’s unimpressed look remained. “the legal age here is 18 though, right?” spike asked, though he already knew the answer. “we look over 18 right,” spike smiled, draping his arm over your shoulder and pulling you closer.
“no id, no weed,” the cashier said plainly, pointing to a sign behind her that read ‘we card!’. “you know,” spike started, leaning on the countertop, “i really hate to do this, but,” he grabbed the rolling paper and bud, running towards the door. 
you paused for a moment, before realizing what was going on. you grabbed the gummy bears from atop the counter, running towards spike who was holding the door open. you could hear a “hey! come back here!” from behind you, and you turned to see spike throw up a peace sign to the cashier. 
you ran down the block, running towards your ship. you slowed down, walking for a moment, laughter coming over you. “you’re fucking crazy,” you sighed airily, walking beside spike who let out a soft laugh. 
“we got it though didn’t we?” he said with a smile.
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you and spike were back outside of the bebop, sitting on the take-off strip. the joint was in between your lips as you took a drag, inhaling the substance. you blew it out with a puff, coughing once with a light chuckle before handing it over to spike. 
spike took a hit before blowing out the smoke. the joint had become shorter, barely being held between spike’s fingers. spike deaded the joint, setting it in the ashtray. “yeah, this is what i needed,” you sighed, lying down.  it seemed like the stars were brighter than they were before as you looked up at the sky now.
the soft noise of the waves brushing against the ship lulled you further into a calm state. “do you do this often?” spike asked, turning towards you. “only after we get a bounty, shit’s expensive,” you said honestly, spike laughing softly.
spike laid down next to you, looking up at the stars. “s’pretty huh?” you said simply, turning towards spike. spike hummed out an affirmation, still looking at the sky. you smiled at his expression, turning back towards the sky. 
“it’s cold,” spike said, sitting back up, “let’s go inside,” you offered, standing up and walking back towards the entrance of the bebop. spike was trailing behind you, gummy bear package in hand. 
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the loud noise of the gears turning as the gate to the take-off strip closed finally came to a cease. you plopped down on the couch, sighing softly before spike sat down next to you. “feel real good,” he drawled before lying his head down on your lap and smiling up at you. 
you just laughed softly,  your hand falling to spike’s hair out of instinct. “do you have someone you miss?” spike spoke softly, the conversation taking an abrupt turn. you sucked your bottom lip in before deciding to speak. spike was being vulnerable, the least you could do was reciprocate his vulnerability.
“yeah,” you said plainly, trying to control the shakiness of your voice, “don’t think i’ll ever be able to get em’ back, though. try to tell myself it’s no use to think about them, but i can’t help it,” your voice trailed off towards the end of the sentence.
spike squeezed his eyes shut as if trying to shake away a vision before he spoke quietly, “i miss her, fucked up bringing her into my life,” your hand paused in his hair for a moment, latching onto his every word, “don’t even know where she is, even if i did, i don’t know if i could face her,”. the room grew silent for a moment, your hand resuming its ministrations in spike’s hair.
“love sucks, huh?” you said simply, spike giving you a weak smile. “s’like,” you paused for a moment, trying to collect your thoughts, “no matter how hard you tried to forget, it’s still there, still in the back of your mind,”. spike’s eye lit up at your words. he pushed into your hand, and you hadn’t even realized your hand had stopped.
you continued playing with his hair as spike spoke, “i try so hard not be stuck in my past, but it’s always there, like you said, in the back of my mind,”. you looked down at spike nodding. the room grew silent once more, neither of you itching to say anything. 
“jus’ wanna forget,” spike said, his voice breaking slightly. he sat up abruptly, leaning beside you on the couch. he turned to face you, his face closer to you now. “don’t you wanna forget?” he said, his eyes crinkling. you could feel the heat flush to your cheeks, and you nodded, afraid your words would betray you.
next thing you knew spike’s lips were on yours. you hesitated for a moment before reveling in the feel of the kiss. your hands fell to spike’s hair, spike’s hands tracing down your body. his hands gripped your hips, pulling you onto his lap. you let out a slight gasp, pulling away for a moment and looking at spike.
you kissed him once more, mumbling into spike’s lips, “jus’ to forget,”. spike lifted a bit off of the couch, trying to lean into the kiss more, his hands drifting to your backside. spike hummed into your lips, agreeing. 
spike was peeling your shirt over your head as your fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. the kiss was quickly becoming more desperate, muffled moans and grunts falling from both of your lips. you couldn’t help but rock on spike’s laps, your arousal dampening your panties.
“sh-shit,” spike pulled away, leaning his head back on the couch. you continued to grind on his lap, your hands tracing over his chest, his shirt fully unbuttoned. “jus’ like that,” he groaned, before pulling you in for another kiss, your whimpers being muffled by his lips
your hands fell to the button of his pants, fumbling with the item before an abrupt clearing of the throat interrupted you. you pulled away from spike’s lips quickly, looking towards the doorway. 
faye was leaning along the wall, smirking at the pair of you. you quickly removed yourself from spike’s lap, grabbing your shirt from the floor. “and to think i only came for a glass of water and got a free show,” 
“s’not for free actually, pay up” spike grumbled, buttoning back up his shirt. you stood up from the couch, desperately wanting to cave in on yourself as you spoke softly, “goodnight, spike,”. 
you looked down at the man, an apologetic expression on your face. “goodnight,” he said, smiling up softly at you.“night, faye,” you said, passing by her. “night y/n!” she yelled down the hall, “cute bra by the way,”. 
“shut up faye!”
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you hadn’t gotten much sleep that night, tossing and turning, throwing the covers off of your body before curling up in them once more. you knew faye was going to give you shit about it in the morning, and you could deal with that. 
but what did this mean for you and spike?
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you awoke to ein licking at your face, ed chanting at the end of your bed, “bacon! bacon! bacon!” she grinned, ein barking at her excitement. “alright, fine,” you grumbled, “just get ein off of me!”.
edward grabbed the dog from the bed, ein licking her face, “yuck! your breath stinks ein,”. you laughed at edward, patting ein’s head. “come on, ed,” you said, walking down the halls of the bebop. you were silently praying that spike was still asleep.
you walked into the kitchen to find faye sitting at the countertop, drinking coffee. she smirked at you over her cup, “good morning, sunshine!” she said in a sweet tone, “morning faye,” you replied. you turned to look at her, grabbing the bacon from the fridge. 
she set her coffee cup down at the countertop, smiling at you. “faye,” you whined, drawing out the e. “we have a lot to discuss, very important things to discuss,” she whispered, ed sitting on the floor playing with ein.
“let me at least make some coffee first,” you grumbled, putting the first piece of bacon onto the pan. 
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ed was happily chewing on her bacon, playing chess in the living room. you and faye sat at the countertop, coffee cups in hand. “first off,” faye started, and you prepared yourself for the slew of judgements to be thrown at you. “what the fuck?”.
“let me explain,” you assured her, faye just clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, “no need for explanations, it was like i walked in on a porno,” “hey! it was not that bad,” you chastised, looking back down to your coffee.
“we were high, it didn’t mean anything, trust me,” you said, taking a sip of your coffee. your stomach turned at your words, but you ignored it. “it better not of, cause we’ve got a bounty to catch, and i can’t have you lovebugs getting in the way of cold, hard money,” faye said.
you laughed softly, “you’re just gonna gamble it away anyways,”. faye pushed your shoulder, “and who’s gonna be getting wasted at the bar while i invest my money wisely,” she teased. “oh yeah, you’re a prime example of a smart spender. at least my money is wasted on vodka,”. she took a sip from her coffee, “is that really that much better?”.
you both laughed softly, ed cheering from across the room at a smart chess move she had made. you and faye sat at the countertop for a while, conversing. faye had gone to shower, leaving you in the kitchen. you washed your two coffee cups, drying them off afterwards.
“morning, spike!” you heard ed say happily from across the room, your eyes shooting up. “g’morning kid,” he grumbled, walking over to the countertop while rubbing his eyes. “morning,” you said, trying to contain a sense of normalcy within your voice.
“hey,” he said, his voice softening. “i-i’m gonna go shower,” you said, spike nodding. you walked out of the kitchen, rushing towards your bathroom once you were out of spike’s line of sight.
“slow down, speed racer,” jet joked as you brushed past him. “sorry, jet,” you said, smiling sheepishly. you opened the door to your bathroom, closing it quickly after.
you leaned against the metal of the door, taking a deep breath. why couldn’t you just act normal? last night hadn’t meant anything, it was just to forget. you rationalized last night, realizing your actions were out of proportion. spike wouldn’t act differently, so you decided not to either.
a knock on the door broke you from your thoughts. you unlocked it, sliding open the door. “spike?” the man pushed inside of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. “can’t just fuckin ignore it,” he said, shaking his head.
“wanted more last night,” he said, staring at you intently. “know you did too,”. “spike, w-we can’t,” you reasoned, spike backing you up against the wall. “why not? it’s harmless sex,” “harmless sex,” you repeated. spike nodded, “just to forget,” you whispered, “just to forget,” spike repeated.
you pulled him in for a kiss, moaning at contact. you had been itching for the feel of his lips on yours since last night. his hands quickly fell to the bottom of your shirt, lifting it over your head. he pulled away for a moment, unbuttoning his own shirt before his lips found yours once more.
your hand fell to his pants, tugging at them, hoping that spike would get the message. he read you loud and clear, pulling his sweats down and attempting to shimmy out of them. his pants pooled at his feet as he tugged at your sleep shorts pulling them down your body.
spike lifted you up, your legs latching around his waist. he stepped out of his sweats, walking you over to the countertop. his hand drifted to your lace-covered center, rubbing at your clit through the fabric. “can feel it through your panties, you’re dripping,” spike teased. “fuck,” you sighed, your head falling back into the mirror.
“can’t say i’m much better,” spike groaned, grabbing your hand and pulling it to his bulge. you gasped slightly, looking at him. he was big. spike just smirked up at you, grinding his bulge against your center. the fabric between the two of you created more friction, whimpers falling freely from your lips as spike groaned lowly into your shoulder.
he placed kisses onto your skin, pulling away for a moment, “want it?” he asked, grinding into you more. “gonna-fuck-gonna be too loud,” you whined, looking at spike. spike pulled away from you completely and you whimpered at the loss of contact. 
he turned on the shower, the water falling from the showerhead, creating noise as it hit the floor of the shower. “problem solved,” he said, smiling at you. he kissed you once more, his fingers pulling your panties to the side, rubbing at your slit. he moaned into your mouth pulling away, “won’t even need to prep you, so fuckin’ ready for me,” spike said, his eyes staring at his finger rubbing through your slit, the digit quickly becoming covered in your slick.
“n-need you inside!” you yelped as spike’s thumb rubbed at your clit. “fuck,” spike sighed, pulling his boxers down your legs. you shimmied out of your panties, lifting your hips from the countertop of the sink. you kicked them onto the floor, grabbing at the back of spike’s head, kissing him. he pulled away breathless, looking at you.
“you’re sure?” he asked. you couldn’t help the way your heart slightly palpitated as you nodded eagerly. “are you?” you asked, your hand rubbing at the back of his neck. he nodded the same as you had. “okay,” you said quietly, spike repeating the word as he pushed into you slowly.
you both let out a slight gasp at the push inside, smiling at one another after. as spike pushed further inside, the whimpers and mewls falling from your lips grew in volume. he bottomed out, pulling you in for a kiss, groaning into your mouth. 
“so fuckin’ tight, clenching on me,” spike groaned. you whined as spike pulled out slightly, thrusting back into you. you both let out airy moans at that. spike was breathing deeply as you adjusted to the feel of his cock inside of you. “m-move!” you mewled, desperate for more, “please, want it!”. spike obliged, his eyes lingering on his cock pushing in and out of you. 
his eyes raked over your body, looking up at your face contorted in pleasure. “so good, spike! s-so good!” you whimpered. his cock brushed against your walls, hitting that sweet spot deep inside of you. “oh fuck,” spike moaned airily. 
he nuzzled his face into your neck, his moans and groans muffled by your skin. “c-close!” you yelped. spike pulled away from your lips, his forehead pressing against yours. “come on,” he said, his voice shaky. “lemme feel it, wanna feel you cum on my cock, come on, angel,” he rambled, thrusting in and out of you at a rough pace now.
spike brought his thumb down to your clit, rubbing quick circles on the bundle of nerves. “s-spike!” you moaned as you came on his cock, your toes curling, a mantra of spike’s name falling from your lips. 
spike took in your expression, your eyebrows furrowed, your tongue lolling out of your mouth slightly. he looked down to the ring of white around his cock, moaning at the sight. he looked back up at you, your eyes open now. 
“cum inside, i’m on the pill,” you said, panting. “wanna feel it inside me,” you whimpered. spike moaned, throwing his head back. your hands traced over his abs, your nails scratching softly at the skin. “y/n, fuck, gonna, gonna-” spike groaned. his head fell into your shoulder, his moans muffled by your shoulder as his warm load filled you.
you sighed as spike’s thrust slowed, spike bottoming out once more. “fuck,” he sighed, the explicit turning into a soft laugh. you joined in, laughing softly. you pulled him in for another kiss, smiling into his lips. 
he pulled out of you, causing you to wince at the stretch. you closed your legs abruptly, not wanting his cum to leak out of you and onto the floor. “no keep em open,” he said, his hand falling to your thigh, “wanna see it pool out of you,”. you raised an eyebrow at him, “i’ll clean it up,” he promised. you obliged, opening your thighs.
“fuck,” spike groaned, watching his cum leak out of you. you laughed softly at his astonishment, spike looking up at you. “what’s so funny?” he asked, smirking. “didn’t take you as being interested in cum play, but now that i think about it though, it makes a lot of sense,” you teased, smiling at him. 
“what’s that supposed to mean?” he said, raising his eyebrow. “oh, nothing,” you joked, grinning at him now. you pushed yourself off of the countertop, standing next to spike now. “get in the shower, bozo,” he joked. 
“only if you join,” you teased, leaning close to him, “ya kinda smell like shit, spike,” you joked. “smell didn’t bother you earlier, huh?” spike teased, smiling at you. you felt your cheeks flush with heat as you stepped into the shower, spike behind you.
the water cascaded over your bodies, your head pressed against spike’s chest as the smell of your tangerine soap flooded your senses.
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the bounty was on a well-known gambler, who had a tendency to rob casinos where he had lost his money. he always had two pretty women on his arms, though it boggled your mind how he did, the man not being particularly attractive, his personality even worse.
that’s why you had an issue with the plan to catch this bounty. you and faye were sent in to be his arm-candy for the night. the plan was to approach him at the bar, he’d take one look at the two of you, and drag you to whatever table he and his entourage sat at that night.
faye had gone in a dark red, spaghetti strap gown, and you in a black strapless gown, the top of your breasts peeking out perfectly from the dress. your hair had been pinned up, a few strands falling to frame your face. 
you walked out from your room in the chosen attire for the night, a scowl on your face. faye whistled as you entered the room with a yell of “do a little spin,”. her commentary brought a smile to your face as you smiled softly with a holler of “you first,”.
you looked over to spike, his eyes raking over your figure. you couldn’t help the feeling in your stomach, spike’s eyes raising to your face and offering you a sheepish smile, knowing he’d been caught.
you laughed softly to yourself as jet began explaining the plan for tonight. 
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you stood at the bar, sipping on a vodka cranberry as you waited for the bounty to approach the bar. faye and you had on undetectable earpieces as you leaned against the bar, scouting the area. spike sat at a blackjack table not too far from the bar, acting as a protective measure. 
you knew as soon the bounty entered, a large mass of people coming into the bar, everyone turning to them and murmuring. you and faye just had to wait patiently until they approached the bar. you figured that the group would secure a table before coming to the bar. 
you toyed with the ice in your cup, sighing softly. “he’s headed over,” you heard spike’s voice in your ear, shivering at the sound. you put on your best fake smile, sitting down on the bar stool. you pushed your arms together, accentuating your cleavage.
faye sat opposite of you, in a similar pose. “right behind you,” spike said, your body slightly tensing before you forced yourself to relax. “what are two beautiful ladies like you doing all alone?” the man groveled, an ugly grin on his face.
god, men were so predictable. 
you turned around on your stool, forcing a sultry smile onto your expression. “looking for someone to make us feel less alone,” you said in a seductive tone, the man laughing softly.  “you’re in luck then,” the man drawled, grabbing you by your waist and spinning you into him.
you had to physically stop the bile forming in your throat, letting out an airy giggle in response. spike’s voice was sounding through your earpiece, “never heard you laugh like that before,”. you tried your best ignored spike’s commentary, latching your arm around the man, faye on the opposite side of him.
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you had been seated at a poker table for a good hour now, clapping your hands together enthusiastically to cheer on the man who was your bounty for the night. you had grown exhausted with your facade, but you just had to wait for the perfect opportunity. 
you leaned up against the man’s side, your hand falling to his thigh. “think i left something in my ship, would you mind walking me out?” you said, peering up at him your eyes wide.
he clicked his tongue to the side of his mouth, smirking, before grabbing your waist, and sliding out of the booth. he walked you out of the casino, his hand falling to your backside, full-on grabbing your ass. you held back from ripping his dirty hands off at you, silently praying for the moment where you could give this fucker what he deserved.
“where’s your ship?” he said as you got further into the parking lot. you just smirked at that, faye walking out from the casino. “about that,” you sighed before landing a roundhouse kick to the man’s face. he fell to the ground groaning, and you kicked him once in his stomach for good measure.
you knelt down next to him, pulling the gun from his pants as you hovered over his face, “just so you know, not every woman wants your grimy hands all over them, i’m not a piece of fuckin property,”. you stood back up fully, towering over the man. spike walked out from behind his ship, handcuffs in hand. 
“you, though,” he drawled, sitting the man up and handcuffing his hands behind his back, “are property of the bebop,”. you just smiled at spike, walking him back to spike’s ship. “hurry before his buddies come out here,” you said, basically shoving the man into spike’s ship
“sure you can handle em?” he asked, full and well knowing you were capable of defending yourself. “have i ever had a problem?” you smirked, spike just laughing softly. the pair of you walked away from spike’s ship and back to the entrance of the casino. just in time, you thought. 
“sorry, boys,” you smirked, walking over to the group. faye had positioned herself along the wall of the building, acting as backup for when the fight began. “seems like your friend left,” you shrugged.
“you bitch!” one of his friends shouted, charging at you. you dodged the punch he had thrown, grabbing his arm before flipping him onto his back on the ground. he laid there, squirming in pain. a second man charged at you, spike easily stopping him by swiping the man’s leg with his foot. the man tumbled over, spike landing a kick to his face for good measure.
“who’s next?”
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you, faye and spike had cleared out the group, the men laying near the exit of the casino, moans of pain sounding out in the silence of the night. “see ya back on the bebop,” you waved to faye, then to spike with a smile, opening the door to your ship. 
you had decided that after all your hard work, you deserved a treat. you set your ship down near the closest 24 hour liquor store. you opened the door, a bell ringing. you gave a soft wave to the cashier before ducking down the isle, in search of a bottle of wine. 
you grabbed the cheapest one from the shelf, shuffling through the items in your clutch, pulling out your id and card. you set the wine down in front of the cashier, “this all?” he asked, to which you nodded simply. “5.50,” he totaled the amount, and you handed him your card. 
“have a good night,” you said simply, opening the door of the liquor store, the cold air brushing against your face as you walked back to your ship.
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“rough night?” spike joked, walking into the living room of the bebop. you simply smiled at the parallel of his words with yours from the night before as you spoke, “guess you could say that,” you sighed, propping your feet up on the table.
the clock read 2:37 AM. the bounty you had collected tonight was on a man named hobi jones, wanted for numerous armed robberies. he now was in the holding cell of the bebop, the plan being to drop him off to the police station in the morning. 
“looks like you’ve turned to the drink,” spike commented, his hand motioning to the bottle you brought to your lips. “a little cheap wine never hurt anybody,” you smiled, handing the bottle over to him. “merlot? didn’t realize it was that bad of night,” spike joked, taking a sip from the bottle.
“hey!” you laughed, “i chose the cheapest shit, not my fault i’m a broke bounty hunter,” “kinda is your fault,”. you both sat in silence for a moment, passing the bottle amongst yourselves. “you’re plotting,” spike said, eyeing you. you turned to him with a raised eyebrow, “huh?” you said simply, smiling softly.
“well, i mean, you’re sitting on the couch, looking like this” his eyes raked over your figure, “and you seduced me into joining you for a bottle of wine,” “seduced you?” you asked, your smile growing now. “if anything,” you teased, setting the bottle down on the table before positioning yourself atop spike’s lap, “i think you coming in here shirtless, practically naked, is a bit slutty, don’t you agree?”. 
spike laughed softly at your words, his hands falling to your hips as he rutted you against his lap, “what are you gonna do about it?” he said simply. your lips were on his in an instance, soft hums falling from both of your lips. “looked so fuckin’ good in that dress tonight,” spike mumbled into your lips, his hands digging into your ass.
“w-wanna blow you,” you whimpered, pulling away from spike’s lips. “god, please,” he groaned, looking down at you as you kissed down his chest. your hands fell to the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging them down his legs. you palmed him through his boxers, his cock already half-hard. 
you tapped at his left thigh, spike lifting his hips up slightly. you tugged the boxers down his body, the fabric pooling around spike’s feet. his cock sprung up, slapping softly against his stomach. “fuck,” you sighed airily, your thumb rubbing across his slit, spreading his precum against the tip of his cock.
“shit,” spike hissed, leaning into your touch. one hand hovered one spike’s thigh, softly scratching at the skin. you wrapped your mouth around the tip, sucking gently, spike letting out a loud sigh. your free hand wrapped around the base of spike’s cock, moving up and down his length along with your mouth.
you pulled away from his member, a string of saliva connected to your lips. you grinned up at spike, the man putting a hand over his eyes with a mutter of “you’re trying to fuckin’ kill me,”. you laughed softly, your eyes falling back down to his cock. 
you planted your hands on his thigh, mumbling against the tip of his cock,  “fuck my throat,”. spike’s breath hitched as he stared down at you, his jaw slack. “please,” you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut in embarrassment. you opened your eyes at the feeling of spike’s thumb brushing across your cheek. 
“yeah? open wide then, tongue out,” spike smirked down at you. your tongue lolled out of your mouth, spike’s hands latching into your hair as he inched your mouth down his cock. “fuck,” he drew out the word, “so good,”. your nose brushed against the skin of his pelvis as you gagged around his cock, your nails digging into his thigh.
“fuck,” he groaned, pulling you off of his cock, “looked so pretty choking on my cock,”. tears were forming in your eyes, close to pooling over your lower lid. a string of spit was connected to your mouth as you panted, catching your breath. “want my cum down your throat?” spike asked, already knowing the answer.
you nodded eagerly, planting your hands back on his thighs. “just use me,” you whined, your hand falling into your panties and rubbing at your clit. spike’s hands were back on your hair, your mouth wrapping around his saliva covered member. “shit,” spike groaned, thrusting into your mouth slightly. “just want me to use you, huh?” his voice was shaky now, spike getting closer to his release.
you gagged on his cock, the sound of you choking sounding throughout the room. tears were falling down your cheeks now, your nose slightly runny, but you reveled in it. you loved the sound of spike losing his mind above you, his hands gripping your hair tighter.
“gonna flood your throat-shit-gonna take it all right?” spike moaned. you couldn’t answer, your mouth full of his cock. spike didn’t wait for an answer, his hip thrusting up once as he pushed you against the base of his cock, your nose pushed against the skin of his pelvis. spike’s load burst into your throat as you tried to swallow in time with the spurts.
he pulled you off his cock slightly, only the tip of his cock on your tongue as one of his hands fell to jerk his length. some of his cum dribbled down your chin as you breathed heavily. spike’s hands fell onto the couch next to him, spike throwing his head back. he looked back down at you, your hands in between your legs, your slick covering your fingers.
“i came,” you whimpered softly, bringing your finger to your lips and wrapping your mouth around the digit. spike laughed softly from above you, “so fuckin’ dirty,” he drawled, his fingers collecting the cum from your chin before being pushed into your mouth, your fingers sucking on his digit.
you smiled up at spike once he removed his finger from your mouth, sighing softly before standing up. “get to bed,” you said softly, “we’ve got some money to make tomorrow,”. spike smiled up at you, “drinks tomorrow?” he said, causing you to pause in walking to your bedroom.
you turned to look at him over your shoulder, grinning, “only if you’re paying,”
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the crew had collected a decent amount of money from the bounty, the sum being spent between the four of you, and ed received spending money out of each of your amounts. 
your newfound--and most likely short-lived--wealth was being spent at the bar, spike sitting on the stool next to you. “another round please,” spike raised his hand slightly, the bartender nodding. your cheek was on your hand, your arm leaning on the countertop as you faced spike. 
“you wanna know why i’m such a good kisser,” spike leaned next to your ear, whispering. you laughed softly, raising one eyebrow, “who said you were a good kisser?” you teased. the bartender poured more vodka into your two shot glasses, spike asking for a small bowl of cherries.
“you know i’ll let that dig slide,” he smirked at you, “only cause you look so good,”. you blushed at spike’s words, regaining your composure, “not to bad yourself, spiegel,” you smiled softly. the bartender placed a small glass bowl of cherries next to spike, spike uttering out a short thanks.
“back to my amazing kissing skills,” he said confidently, causing your smile to grow. “watch this,” he said, staring you intently. he took one of the cherries, the stem held in between his thumb and pointer finger. he popped the fruit into his mouth, only the stem held in between his fingers.
“now for the main event,” he smiled, placing the cherry stem on his tongue. he closed his mouth, still staring at you, his eyes twinkling. you could see his cheeks moving, his tongue tying the cherry tongue into a knot. 
he stuck his tongue out, his words jumbled, “see? told you,”. spike stuck his tongue back in his mouth as you muttered, “oh shut up,” attaching your lips to his. the kiss took spike by surprise before he melted into it, his hand falling to your waist. you pulled away, smiling at spike before sticking out your tongue, the cherry stem on your tongue. “see?” you drawled, mimicking spike.
the night ended with spike hiking up your dress in one of the bathroom stalls, his cock pushing into your warm walls. 
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you woke up with a blasting headache, the alcohol from last night coming back in full-swing. you groaned, sitting up in your bed, your head in your hands. begrudgingly, you made your way to the kitchen.
the bebop was unnaturally quiet, ed’s laughter wasn’t sounding throughout the living room, nor was faye’s ridiculing tone. you walked into the kitchen, spike sitting at one of the stools at the island. 
“where is everybody?” you asked, pouring yourself coffee from the pot. “jet is at the bank making an investment or some dumb shit like that, faye’s at the casino, and ed,” he paused for a moment, “i don’t know where ed is,”.
you laughed softly, “she always finds her way back here so i’m not too worried,”. you groaned quietly, rubbing at your forehead. “hangover?” spike questioned, to which you nodded. “mrs. cherry stem can’t hold her alcohol then?” spike teased. you just shook your head with a soft smile, “fuck off,” you joked, standing up and opening the kitchen cabinets in search for advil.
“if anything,” you started, finding the advil and popping open the container, “you’re mr. cherry stem, you started that bullshit,”. you put the advil container back away walking over to the stool you were sitting in. 
“i thought you’d be glad i started it, i mean from the way you were yelling my name in the bathroom last night,” he raised his voice an octave, taking on a more nasally tone, “spike! spike!”. you shoved him in his shoulder, spike mocking hurt as he clutched his shoulder with a pouted lip.
“you know you really shouldn’t take advil, doesn’t help much,” he said plainly, taking a sip from his coffee. “i have a much better hangover cure,” he proclaimed, standing up from his seat. you couldn’t help but smile as you watched him shuffle around the kitchen, pulling out a multitude of items.
when he had finally gathered everything, he pointed his finger at you, raising and eyebrow as he tried to contain a smile. “now watch very closely, i’ll only teach you this once,”. you laughed softly, raising your hand to your forehead in salute.
“raw egg yolk,” spike said, cracking the egg into a bowl, your upper lip curling in disgust. “bear with me,” he chuckled. he grabbed the yolk with a spoon, separating it from the egg whites. he placed it into the glass, smiling at you. 
“pepper,” he said, sprinkling the seasoning from the canister on top of the egg yolk in the glass. “now for my favorite part,” he celebrated, grabbing the bottle of gin, pouring some of the liquid into the glass.
“why do i feel like this is gonna make me more drunk if anything,” you sighed, laying your head on your arms as you watched spike. he smiled, “would that really be that bad?”. you chuckled in response, looking over at spike as he grabbed the hot sauce with a proclamation, “last ingredient!”.
“and there you have it, my speciality, a prairie oyster,” he cheered, pushing the glass over to you. “spike,” you began to complain, drawing out his name. “jus’ try it! it works wonders, promise you,” he reassured you. 
“if i die, i’m haunting you in the afterlife,” “i’d welcome it,”. you grabbed the glass, lifting it to your mouth, swallowing the entirety of its substance. “yuck,” you exclaimed after swallowing, sticking out your tongue. “they grow up so fast,” spike teased, causing you to smile over at him. 
“you want pancakes?” you asked, standing up from your stool as you moved throughout the kitchen, grabbing pancake mix from the pantry, blueberries from the fridge. “you know me so well,” spike said, standing up after you. he leaned on the wall, watching you mix the pancake batter.
“need some music,” he stated, grabbing his phone. dream by the pied pipers began playing through the speaker of his phone, spike’s arms wrapping around your waist as he nuzzled his face into your neck. “gonna make me burn myself,” you laughed, pouring the batter into the pan.
“dance with me then,” spike said, spinning you around. you gasped before smiling up at him. “may i have this dance?” he joked, curtsying. “you may,” the grin audible in your voice as you held out your hand.
spike grabbed your hand, pulling you close, his hands falling to your waist, your hands latching behind his neck. he hadn’t stopped looking at you, a soft smile still on his face. you shuffled around the kitchen, step-together-step, spike grinning now. 
“my pancake’s gonna burn,” you laughed softly, leaning up to give spike a chaste kiss before wiggling out of his hold. you walked over to the stove, grabbing the spatula and flipping the pancake over.
spike’s arms were around your waist once more, spike leaving soft kisses on your exposed shoulder, only a thin tank top strap covering the skin. “so clingy today, spike,” you teased. “jus’ wanna be close,” he mumbled into your skin. “s’alright,” you said softly, your cheeks flushing with heat.
you felt that familiar feeling clutch onto your heart, but you pushed it away, not wanting to recognize what it meant, not wanting to be reminded of its familiarity. 
faye’s voice broke you from the comfort of spike’s arms, “hello lovebirds,” she said, walking over to the kitchen island. “faye,” you reprimanded slightly, telling her not to go any further. she just laughed, raising an eyebrow at you as spike now stood further away from you. he paused the music on his phone, his eyes still lingering on your face.
“you can take the first one spike,” you said, placing the blueberry pancake on a plate and handing it to spike.  
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you were sitting on your bed, your mini yamaha keyboard sitting in front of you. your fingers played different chords as you quietly sung along. a knock on your door broke you from your tranquility as you raised your voice, “come in,”.
the door slid open, spike standing behind it. “hey,” you said, smiling up at him. you hadn’t really talked since this morning, faye interrupting whatever moment was going on between the two of you. maybe it was a good thing that she had interrupted you. 
maybe you were getting to attached, maybe this was becoming more than just forgetting. was it more for spike? “y/n, hey,” spike waved his hand in front of your face breaking you from your thoughts. “sorry,” you muttered, “zoned out for a sec, what’d ya need,” you said, patting the bed for spike to sit down.
he sat, tracing his finger across your keyboard, “didn’t know you played,” he said, looking at you intently. “not very well,” you smiled, “plus it’s a mini keyboard, not much i can do with it,” “play something for me,” spike suggested.
“i’m really not very good spi-” “please?” he asked, and you couldn’t help but oblige. your fingers pressed on the simple chords, your voice adding onto the music.
“sweet creature,” you sung softly, “had another talk about where it’s going wrong,”. you continued singing, your fingers pressing the keys in accordance to the notes you were singing. you couldn’t look up at spike, embarrassment consuming you as your eyes remained glued to your keyboard.
unable to cope with the feeling brewing in your stomach, you lifted your hand away from the keyboard. you mustered up the courage to look up at spike, his cheeks flushed a light pink, “y-your voice,” his voice broke for a moment, and you could visibly see him swallow. his voice grew quieter, “it’s really pretty,”.
you both sat there in silence for a moment. you could see the slightest hint of hurt etched on spike’s face, but it wasn’t your room to question why. you just wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug and muttering a “thank you,” into his skin. 
you don’t know how long you remained that way, but eventually spike’s arms were clutching onto you, your body acting as his anchor. you were his anchor.
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though the two of you had gotten distracted for a moment, spike had originally come into your room to ask if you wanted to go grab something to eat. you now sat in a booth at spike’s favorite ramen restaurant. “s’good huh?” spike smiled as he watched you slurp up noodles.
“why have i never been invited here before?” you chastised jokingly, “can’t believe you would hide something like this from me,” you said dramatically, grabbing more noodles with your chopsticks. “i’ll only come here with you from now on,” spike promised. you couldn’t help the way your heartbeat quickened at his words.
“they give free matcha ice cream after the meal too,” spike added. you dropped your chopsticks into your bowl, looking over at spike with a smile. “i think i’m in heaven,” you reasoned, spike laughing softly.
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spike had asked for the ice cream to go, and the pair of you now walked around the city center, matcha ice creams in hand. you pointed out a boutique, you and spike walking inside. the store was full of jewelry, candles, and other random items. you scanned through the rings sitting in a jewelry case. 
your eye fell on a green aventurine ring, the jewel grabbing your attention.”the green one?” spike asked, turning towards you. you looked at him with a raised eyebrow, a soft smile on your face, “how’d you know?” you asked, looking back down at the ring.
“suits you,” he said, his shoulder brushing against yours, “get it,”. you shook your head, turning to look around the store, “blew most of my bounty money already, shouldn’t spend anymore,” you reasoned. “did i say you’d be paying?” spike said, almost as though it puzzled him that you thought you’d pay for your own ring.
“spike, i can’t let you d-” “quit being stubborn, grab the ring,” he interrupted, walking towards the cash register. you grabbed the ring, quickly following behind him. the cashier rang it up with a mumble of, “7 dollars and 37 cents”. spike handed her a 10 dollar bill before grabbing your hand and leading you out of the store.
he grabbed your hand, slipping the ring on your pointer finger, “s’pretty,” he murmured, looking back up at your face. “yeah,” you said softly, and before your brain could catch up, you were wrapping your arms around his body and pulling him in for a hug.
“thank you,” you mumbled into spike’s chest, the giving a short hum in answer.
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though cacri had been a beautiful planet, you were glad to be somewhere with a beautiful beach. hot, white sand that toasted the soles of your feet, almost crystal clear water. you were lounging in a beach chair, an umbrella over your face. you were reading an old play titled blithe spirit, you had picked it up from a bookstore after the ramen date with spike.
you reasoned that you shouldn’t call it a date, feelings already being designated as non-acceptable. you sighed, pushing your sunglasses onto your hair. though spike was the reason for your inner turmoil, you couldn’t help but watch him splash ed with water. 
he had a huge grin on his face, and you could hear his laughter. your eyes raked further down his body, pausing on his abdomen before you turned your attention back to your book. 
“you brought food right,” you heard spike’s voice, lifting your head as you saw him jogging towards you. ‘mhm’ you nodded, leaning over your chair and tapping on the picnic basket.
“ohh yum,” spike cheered, pulling out the container of chocolate covered strawberries. “want one?” he said, holding the fruit out to you. you accepted with a smile, biting down on the chocolate covered delicacy. a small amount of juice dribbled down your chin, spike laughing softly at you.
“always so messy,” he sighed, his thumb collecting the strawberry juice before bringing the digit to his tongue and lifting it up. you could feel the heat in your cheeks, that familiar tingle spreading throughout your body. 
“bathing suit’s pretty on you,” he complimented, his eyes raking over your figure with a smirk. he bit the chocolate covered strawberry whole, placing the remains on the cover of the container. 
“thanks for the snack,” spike grinned, running back down towards the shoreline. jet groaned from beside you, flipping over onto his back. 
“you guys disgust me,” he grumbled.
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jet and ed walked back to jet’s ship with calls of, “see you back on the ship,”. faye had spent the day at the casino, and you teased her slightly for it earlier in the morning when she discussed her plans for the day.
you and spike had crammed into his ship for the beach trip, and you found yourself attempting to stuff towels and a picnic basket into the tight area. eventually, you both were seated, spike’s ship lifting off. 
“heard this song the other day,” spike said, looking at you for a second before focusing his attention back in front of him. “search up hey lover by daughter’s of eve,” he said, tilting his head towards his phone that sat in the center console of the ship. 
you grabbed the device, typing in the song title. music flooded the speakers of spike’s ship as you smiled at his head bobbing along to the beat. “hey hey hey lover,” spike sung off pitch, causing you to laugh softly.
he smiled over at you, “s’ earth music,” he said, turning the volume down slightly. “from the 1960s or something, long time ago,” “s’neat,” you smiled over at him. spike’s hand fell back to the volume nozzle, the music growing louder once more. 
spike’s hand grabbed yours causing you to gasp softly. he closed your hand into a fist, using it as a makeshift microphone as he continued to sing off-key. “focus on getting us back to the bebop,” you laughed softly, pulling your hand from his hold.
you sought out comfort from spike, your hand grabbing his. you soon realized the gravity of your actions, planning to pull away, but spike’s hand softly squeezed yours. you let your hands rest latched together on the center console as the moon began its ascent in the night sky. 
spike had come into your room that night, his body snuggling against yours under the cover. your soft breaths became synchronized as his arm wrapped around your midsection, the pair of you drifting off into sleep
that morning when you woke up, spike was no longer next to you.
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you couldn’t help but wonder what you had done wrong. did he realize you had fallen in love with him? did you even realize it? you shook away the thoughts, getting into your ship.
spike had ignored you the entirety of the day, rushing out of the kitchen once he had seen you. you had decided that you needed some weed, something to calm you down. you were using it as a coping mechanism. you hadn’t gotten high in a while, most of your time spent with spike. 
you had blanked out the entire flight there, your brain on autopilot. you set your ship down, pushing open the door as you stepped out of your ship. the bell on the dispensary door rang, the cashier giving you a soft wave which you returned with a smile. you grabbed rolling paper, and a small bag of bud, the cashier totaling the amount.
“thanks,” you said softly, pushing open the door. you walked back to your ship, your mind flooded with images of spike, overrun with worries. on a lighter note, the planet you were on for this next bounty was actually one you had been to before. 
there was a beautiful lookout area that you had gone to with faye, and in no rush to return to the bebop, you set your destination for the lookout spot.
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you had only been at the lookout for about 30 minutes when you felt the first drop of rain hit your skin. “fuck,” you grumbled. you set the joint down onto the dirt, stepping on it before you rushed into your ship. the rain was hitting the windshield, your ship lifting off as you headed back to the bebop.
the rain seemed to worsen as you got closer to the bebop, the raindrops hitting your windshield sounding like pellets. you set your ship down on the landing strip of the bebop, groaning at the thought of having to rush inside. you prepared yourself for the feeling of the cold rain on your skin, pushing open the door of your ship.
you yelped slightly, rushing down the landing strip and towards the entrance gate, which to your surprise, was already open. a figure was rushing towards you, and you soon made it out to be spike. the ship had been set down in the water for the night, close to the harbor, the lamplights from the sidewalk lighting up spike’s face.
“where were you,” he yelled as he rushed over to you. “you didn’t care earlier,” you grumbled walking towards the entrance of the bebop. spike grabbed your hand, turning you back towards him. “i was worried about you,” he yelled over the sound of the rain, and you couldn’t tell if tears were forming in your eyes or if it was just the rain. 
“yeah?” you yelled, your voice shaky, “all i’ve been doing all fucking day is worrying about you!” you ennunciated the last word with a jab to his chest. the rain was still coming down hard, your eyes squinting. “i can’t-” your voice hiccuped, your throat feeling tighter, “c-can’t do this anymore, spike,”. 
spike eyes remained at you, his bottom lip under his upper one. “it was jus’ to forget right?” you continued at spike’s silence, “so it doesn’t matter,”. you turned back walking towards the entrance once more.
“wasn’t to forget,” spike yelled over the rain, walking towards you as you paused your movements. “i-i was so scared this morning,” his voice quieted for a moment and you had to lean in to hear him. “you were humming something in your sleep, some tune,” he paused, looking down at the floor.
“every thing reminded me of her, every whistle i heard along to the melody of a song, every hum along to a certain tune,” he was looking at you now. “b-but for once, th-this wasn’t her anymore. i didn’t think about her,” spike’s voice broke. 
“it was only you,” he finished. you responded in the only way you saw acceptable, your hands planting on spike’s cheek as you pulled him in for a kiss. “s’ only been you,” spike mumbled into your lips. “only you,” you mumbled back. the kiss grew more passionate before you both pulled away, breathless. “
“i’m sorry,” he said, pulling you into him, your face pressing against the wet fabric of his shirt. “just want you,” you hiccuped, tears falling down your face now. “i’m not leaving,” spike reassured you.
the rain cascaded over your bodies, the memories of a past love washing away along with it. as the sky cleared, the moon marked the creation of new memories. new love blossomed with the dew.
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