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ponderingmoonlight · 8 months

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Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist

Click here for your link to heaven (aka seperate Gojo Satoru Masterlist)

Dying ray of sunshine The year after the incident with Toji has put your longtime relationship with Suguru Geto to the test. But one fateful decicion will change everything forever.

Dying ray on sunshine pt. ll After searching for your former boyfriend Suguru for 10 years, he finally shows himself again at the Night Parade. You try your best to convince him back into your open arms, but it seems like the man you love is gone forever.

Us against the world Suguru and you are inseperable, like ying and yang long before the both of you joined Jujutsu High. Despite you are technically a non-jujutsu sorcerer, you made your way up with him always by your side. Until something changed. Until it wasn't "us against the world" anymore.

(y/n) gifting Geto sweets against the bad taste of curses Being used to the fact that nobody seems to care about how awful curses taste, Suguru Geto is absolutely blown away when you start noticing and bringing him candy after each and every mission.

Getting back home drunk after an argument with Suguru Geto You always supressed the pain in your heart when your boyfriend dumps you for his best friend again. Until one day you've had enough. Until you get uncontrollably drunk to forget your fight.

Should have told her While being secretely in love with you since joining Jujutsu High, Nanami never admitted his feelings to you. Only after you nearly die in a fight and are on the brink of death, he begins to realize how much you really mean to him

Don't be shy You are an outspoken, confident and skilled member of Jujutsu High. But when it comes to Nanami Kento, you suddendly become all flustered and shy. When you are set on a mission together he finally confronts you.

Whisper of the death With your character of pure gold, it isn't hard for Nanami to fall for you despite the fact that you are the little sister of his best friend. However, your world is turned upside down after both men return from their last mission...

Beautiful mistake You are in a secret but healthy relationship with none other than Nanami Kento despite being the sunshine to his rain. Until one day, you accidentaly spoil your secret to Gojo Satoru.

Nanami losing it completely when (y/n) gets severely injured at Shibuya After receiving a message with your location, Nanami rushes to your side, showing no mercy with the man who laid his hands on you.

Nanami hiding his scars from his girlfriend after surviving Shibuya no words needed

Nanami and Gojo's little sister meeting up again years after their ugly breakup It's been some hell of years since Nanami left Gojo's younger sister for another woman. But when her big brother invites her to Jujutsu HIgh again, things start to unveil...

Haruta seeking revenge on Nanami's heavy pregnant wife When Haruta hears about Nanami's wife, he is more than delighted to search and kill her. He didn't think about (y/n)'s very own abilities and her furious husband though.

Nanami fearing rejection from his wife and daughter after Shibuya left him seriously wounded Even though he survived Shibuya, Kento Nanami dies from the inside just by the thought of losing you and his precious little daughter due to his severe wounds and scarred skin. But despite his great fear, your reaction turns out completely different than expected.

Nanami's girlfriend watching him being in full dad-mode with Yuji After finally coming back home from a mission far away, all you want to do is seeing your precious boyfriend Kento again. But instead of a afternoon of cuddling him, you get to see him act like a real dad towards a new student.

Nanami's reaction to his daughter wearing a jumper saying "I love daddy" After the incidents of Shibuya and his wife getting severely injured, Nanami is relieved to know his new family safe and sound. A little suprise from his precious wife seems to be enough to make a grown man cry in joy though...

Kento Nanami and his wife losing their unborn child in Shibuya It seemed like a normal evening when you passed out on the couch, not aware of Haruta sneaking into your shared apartment until he pierces his blade through your pregnant stomach. How will your husband react, finding out what happened to you?

Nanami Kento raising his voice at you (apparentely yellow text is gone wtf) He had no other choice but to scream at you in the middle of a fight, snapping at you like he never did before. It took both of you a few weeks to realize that you can't be with each other...

Caught Megumi knows it isn't allowed to visit you after curfew late at night, but the temptation is just too great. However, it is percisely this night that Gojo noticed the both of you and finds you in a rather unfavorable situation.

Luck in misfortune After you get seriously injured by a cursed and saved by Megumi, he begins to develop feelings for you he never imagined could exist.

The razor's edge The news that your boyfriend Megumi got badly injured on a mission makes you come to Jujutsu High immediately to stand by his side.

Opposites attract Megumi hated you the moment you stepped into Jujutsu High for the first time. As time flies, he always sees himself confronted with you on missions. However, one of these missions makes him rethink his feelings towards you

Save you After you recklessly risk your own life to save his, Megumi can't hold back his feelings any longer

Yuji's sunshine sister with grumpy Megumi Despite the fact that Megumi is the complete opposite of you, he can't help but secretely having a crush on you. It isn't until you get severely injured by Mahito that Megumi begins to realize it can't go on like this...

Gojo's little sister kissing her childhood crush Megumi for the first time at Shibuya Even though your brother told you over and over to stay away from Shibuya, you are on your way to save him when you fall into the open arms of Megumi. Is this the right time to finally confess your feelings to your childhood crush?

Getting lost at a haunted house only to get saved by Megumi Fushiguro After your friends dragged you into a tunnel of terror at an amusement park despite your irrational fear of creepy stuff, you find yourself lost in your own panic. Until a sudden blue-eyed boy appears and helps you out...

Megumi losing his will to carry on until (y/n) shows up Megumi can't take it anymore. All the death, the grief, the misery he caused. He'll never forgive himself for losing you...But are you really dead?

I told you to stay When finding out your boyfriend of a year, Toji, secretly has a whole family behind your back, you decide to leave him. Of course, he won't allow that so easily.

Toji Fushiguro coming back to live to save (y/n) at Shibuya No words needed

Geto's little sister melting like butter in Toji's hands When your brother and Satoru arrive at Jujutsu High with the star plasma vessel, things start to get heated. But instead of running away like you're told to, you follow your brother. Only to be alone with a certain someone...

Choso with injured (y/n) who has blood phobia no words needed

Gojo's little sister seducing Choso at Shibuya no words needed

Gojo's little sister seducing Choso at Shibuya pt. ll After getting back on track of saving her big brother, (y/n) catches Mahito's attention. Choso has to decide if he continues searching for Yuji or rushed to her aid before she gets killed.

Teaching Choso about Christmas and kissing under the mistletoe Even though Choso thinks he's seen it all by now, the idea of Christmas just doesn't reach him until you show him the tradition of kissing underneath a mistletoe...

Choso realizing what love is when you almost sacrifice your life to save his It was always a mystery to Choso Kamo, the way human emotions seem to work. But when you yank yourself right into Uraume's attack in order to save him, he slowly but surely begins to understand.

Choso getting hopelessly seduced by another blood manipulator It seemed so easy at first: find Itadori Yuji, kill him, take revenge. Only until you showed up and captivated Choso Kamo, only until you showed him what you can...

Megumi's little sister falling head over heels for Yuji (and maybe Sukuna?) pt. l After being set on a mission with your crush Yuji, your big brother and Nobara, things don't go as planned as all and force Yuji to sacrifice himself before you have the chance to tell him how you feel. Until Sukuna appears...

Sukuna coming for Megumi's little sister at Shibuya (pt. ll) After the incident of Yuji almost losing his life and Megumi's little sister confessing her feelings to him, they finally live in peace. But then Shibuya comes around as well as suppressed Sukuna who takes interest in you...

Sukuna coming for Megumi's little sister at Shibuya (pt. lll) After promising Sukuna to do everything he wants in exchange for him sparing your friends, you find yourself in a bitter fight with Jogo. While you feel like dying, Sukuna enjoys teasing the hell out of you...

Sukuna coming for Megumi's little sister at Shibuya (pt. lV) Sukuna enjoys every second with you by his side. But when Yuji slowly but surely begins to fight back, Sukuna has to act quickly. A sweet innocent kiss before he has to go, before Yuji Itadori gains back his body...

(y/n)'s deal with the devil to save Nobara's life (pt. V) You've been through so much at Shibuya, seeing the love of you get taken over by Sukuna and finally getting him back. But this time, it will be you who begs on her knees for the king of curses to arrive in order to save your best friend's life...

You being made from Yuji's and Megumi's big booty dreams Personality counts, but a big ass does as well

Telling Sukuna you're pregnant after not seeing him for 500 years For more than 1.500 years, you found yourself in a love and hate relationship with none other than Ryomen Sukuna. But when he began to ignore you for more than 500 years, you decide to bind him to you forever - with the help of a pregnancy that shouldn't be possible...

Part 2 After dropping the bomb of getting yourself pregnant from him despite not seeing each other for 500 years, Sukuna can't contain his temper. But you're too strong, you are too hot to resist you any longer...

Yuji taking you on an ice-skating date You never went ice-skating in your entire life, but when Yuji asks you out...Who are you to say no to your secret crush?

Sukuna comforting you after a breakup short lil comfort for whoever needs it

Ryomen Sukuna getting on his knees for his wife For more than 500 years, you waited for your husband's return. When he finally shows himself again in Shibuya, he can't help but worship his wife the way she deserves it

Being held hostage by Ryomen Sukuna How you ended up in Sukuna's prison instead of getting killed in an instant? You don't know. What you do know however that the king of curse has more to offer than what you ever imagined...

Yuta going nuts when finding out you've got severely injured at Shibuya When the news of Shibuya begin to flood in, Yuta almost loses his mind over you. Without thinking twice he pays you, the secret love of his life, a visit.

We're just friends...right? You told it yourself over and over while you whimpered against his neck. You are nothing but friends, no one has to know about him and you. Until Yuta ignores your presence the next day, until you realize that you don't want him like a best friend...

Yuta saving your ass in Shibuya You have enough. After fighting for multiple hours in Shibuya, you are the brink of giving up your life, of giving up the pondering about a future with Yuta. Little do you know he's already on his way to Shibuya...

Comforting Toge Inumaki after he lost his arm in Shibuya yup that's basically it

How JJK men react to other girls flirting with them/reader getting insulted ft. Gojo, Megumi and Yuta

JJK men sharing a bed with reader ft. Megumi, Nanami and Yuta

JJK men sharing a bed with reader part lll ft. Toji, Geto, Haibara and Choso

How JJK men act when they're jealous ft. Megumi and Gojo

JJK men turning the usual confident reader shy ft. Yuta, Geto and Megumi

Shibuya arc scenarios that live in my head rent free part l ft. getting sealed along with Gojo, Geto awakening by the sound of your voice

How JJK men react when (y/n) gets injured ft. Nanami, Megumi, Toji and Geto

JJK men in and after a fight ft. Goto, Megumi and Nanami

JJK men in and after a fight pt. ll ft. Geto, Choso and Yuji

JJK men with drunk reader ft. Choso and Nanami

JJK men with drunk reader pt. ll ft. Geto, Megumi and Gojo

JJK men meeting you for the first time (aka Megumi catching you buying condoms) ft. Gojo, Nanami and Megumi

JJK men after hurting (y/n) ft. Choso and Gojo

How JJK men react when you fall asleep on top of them ft. Nanami, Gojo and Inumaki

How JJK men react to different insecurities Part 1 ft. Nanami (gn!reader's facial scars), Megumi (fem!reader with small breasts) and Sukuna (gn!reader with acne)

How JJK men react to different insecurities Part 2 ft. Nanami (reader doesn't want kids), Gojo (reader who gained weight), Megumi (reader with hooked nose)

How JJK men react to different insecurities Part 3 ft. Nanami (overweight reader), Choso (reader with big breasts), Yuji/Todo (tall/curvy reader)

How JJK men act when you can't sleep ft. Gojo, Inumaki and Megumi

JJK men with a small-chested reader ft. Toji, Gojo, Choso, Nanami, Sukuna and Geto

JJK men with a big-chested reader ft. Nanami, Geto, Yuji/Sukuna and Gojo

Stitching JJK men up or at least trying to ft. Gojo, Toji and Yuta

Doing the ribbon around biceps trend with JJK men ft. Gojo, Nanami, Toji and Sukuna

Making JJK men realize what love is ft. Geto, Sukuna and Toji

Click here for a full list of shorts and drabbles!

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sweetingseva · 6 months

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Jacks, The Boy Who Swore to Never Love ❤️‍🩹🍎✨

Happy Belated Birthday, Jacks! 🥳

I wanted to post this on his actual b-day, but time got the best of me and I wanted to perfect this post with everything I wanted to say about him. Sorry that I took this long, but at least most people have most likely have read ACFTL.

This will have spoilers from Legendary, Finale, Once Upon A Broken Heart, The Ballad of Never After, and A Curse For True Love.

🩸🍎✨~~~🩸🍎✨~~~🩸🍎✨~~~🩸🍎✨

I actually cheated when I first read him. I started reading Legendary but then I stopped and I had forgotten about the Prince of Hearts mentioned in the first few chapters. When Once Upon A Broken Heart came out, I met Jacks again and I instantly fell in love with his character. He was funny, ridiculous, and beyond reckless. The line that sold his character to me?

Jacks had stopped the wedding by turning everyone to stone.

But before I continued with his story in OUABH, I jumped back into Legendary where Jacks was much the same careless boy who wanted royal power because it was the closest to having his full Fate powers. But other than Jacks being stuck inside a deck of cards, we didn’t know much about his story other than he was a dangerous Fate with the one of the most deadly stories out there.

The Prince of Hearts’s kiss was deadly to all. He only had one weakness—his true love—who could survive his kiss of death. As he sought her, he left a trail of corpses.

One could imagine the kind of life Jacks led before he met Tella. Was he a flirt? Did he kiss just any girl? Did he even care about them? Was he still searching for true love? Did he still believe in it?

I had assumed that Jacks was broken to the point that he simply didn’t care anymore. He kissed so many potential lovers, but in the end, none of them made it. We learn in A Curse For True Love that the girls must have truly loved Jacks, which is why all of them fell into the same fate as his first fox.

Until Tella changed the course of his beliefs in Legendary.

His heart started beating. Tella survived Jacks’s kiss despite him delaying her death.

How did this happen? To Jacks, it didn’t matter. Hope washed over him and led him to pursue Tella (even if it was 2 months after the fact). It was clear that Jacks believed in the story and was something he had faith in again. But Tella was in love with someone else, which is the sole reason why she survived Jacks’s deadly kiss.

In ACFTL, Aurora Valor had said that only a person who would never love him can kiss him and live.

That was the true version of his story. Not that his true love could kiss him, but someone who was destined not to be with him. I felt so much for Jacks when I read this. Aurora had cursed him twice, leaving him heartbroken beyond belief. His heart was something that could be owned, not something to be earned.

Before I move on with his reservation for love, I want to dive in deeper in Jacks’s relationships, especially his friendship with Castor Valor (Chaos).

Chaos 🩸🧛🏻

There were three of them—Lyric Merrywood, Castor Valor, and Jacks of the Hollow—that made up the Merrywood Three. Jacks’s old friends who he cared about a lot. In a way, they were like brothers. In The Ballad of Never After, Evangeline opened a curious book and read about the Merrywood Three and a specific Archer who resembled Jacks.

And being human looked good on him—or maybe it was just that he looked happy. In the picture, Jacks was tossing an ordinary red apple and laughing in a way that lit up his entire face. He never looked this happy now, and she couldn’t help but wonder what had changed… His resemblance to the picture was uncanny, and yet the feeling she got from looking at him now was entirely different. It was as if a sculptor had taken a dagger to who he had once been and curved out all the softness.

Jacks was once foolish with hope and love. As a possible Merrywood, he might have been raised with the same generous morals. He believed in doing the right thing, that everything would be all right. It was this selfless faith that pushed Jacks to save his friend, Castor, who had been stabbed in the back. Trying to be the savior, Jacks took a half-dead Castor to Honora Valor who could heal him with her healing magic. But it was too late. Other means had tranformed Castor to a bloodthirsty monster.

Jacks blamed himself for what had happened to him.

Castor was the only friend Jacks had left. Lyric Merrywood and the rest of his family had been killed. The Merrywood Manor was destroyed, and the village was left abandoned. After the Valors were locked up in the Valory behind the Valory Arch, Jacks had became a Fate so that Castor wasn’t alone. This showed that he was a good person.

One of the reasons Jacks had allowed himself to be turned into a Fate was so that Castor wouldn’t be alone. Then he’d started the rumor that Castor was Chaos and that Chaos was a Fate, so that the world wouldn’t figure out he was the last remaining Valor.

This act is one of the most beautiful things about Jacks’s character, and one we shouldn’t ignore. Even though Jacks is known for being callous, cocky, and selfish, his gentle side is the most important facet of his character. It is what drives many of his decision. But behind this decision, Castor had caused so much death and pain. Tragedy after tragedy that no one can take back. This reality must have affected Jacks.

It isn’t weak of Jacks to display these kind of vulnerabilities. I think Stephanie did a great job showing Jacks’s vulnerable side in TBONA and especially in ACFTL. It’s what I always wanted to see from him.

Tella 💙🗡

I remember the first time I saw Jacks pour his heart out and it was in his plead to Tella to love him in Finale.

“You were supposed to be my true love. You were supposed to want me, not him. You were supposed to be as obsessed with me as I am with you… When I told Legend I’d kill you if he didn’t give me the power I needed, I didn’t mean it—I wouldn’t have done it. A part of me even hoped he’d say no, so that you would walk away from him and choose me. I’m selfish, and I want you, but I would never harm you.”

The way he spoke here was such a surprise. Until then, I always thought Jacks was a pest, wedging in between Tella and Legend, but perhaps it wasn’t just about this. It was about Jacks’s need for love, to crave it so much that it didn’t matter that his immortality was at risk. Jacks did everything to win Tella, even to the point that he would rather put a love spell over Tella for her to stay with him if not at all.

Finally, after years and years, Jacks finally found the answer to his curse. A girl had kissed him and made his heart beat. What a sick joke that Aurora pulled on him since this fierce hope eventually caused him pain when the girl stabbed him and chose someone else. His walls stacked up all around his heart and his love again.

No doubt that this was the greatest heartbreak Jacks had ever felt.

But this is just one of the many.

Jacks had lost his first fox girl, his family, his friends, and the soft nature of his heart. Dozens of girls had fallen for him and died, one survived his kiss and made his heart beat but left him heartbroken, and then Evangeline, the girl he truly ever loved, died.

Evangeline 🦊💘

Evangeline Fox is the closest person to who he once was when he was just Jacks of the Hollow. Since the beginning, Evangeline felt gulity when she put her trust into a Fate and turned all of the wedding guests into stone. But it was her belief in love who brought her to Jacks, the Prince of Hearts. Because she believed he knew about heartbreak and unrequited love, Evangeline thought he would be understanding to her plight.

Which she isn’t entirely wrong.

Jacks knew heartbreak, loss, and unrequited love.

But he knew to cover his pain behind this flirtatious and wild personality well.

After Evangeline returned, Jacks was cold as ice. He had lost the only legitimate chance of love. Who wouldn’t be dejected after a rejection? He said it himself, that heartbreak “turns you into a masochist, making you long for the thing that just eviscerated you until there’s nothing left of you to be destroyed.”

It seems like hope is not all lost since Jacks is in search of the stones once more to get back to this “love.” To have another shot with Tella.

Once again, Jacks’s past self shines through with this hope for true love that seemed awfully familiar. But it was the idea of love, not love itself, that Jacks was chasing here.

It was the chance that everything could be good again. That he didn’t need to be alone.

Evangeline was the kind of soul who helped open his heart. In the crypt, Evangeline wasn’t afraid to ask him questions about his story and his heartbreak. Both of them had a common ground, which made it easier for them to talk about their failed chances of love. I truly believed that it was this scene that helped Jacks drop his guard and forget Tella for just a little bit.

For the first time in a while, he had thought of someone’s needs before his. He wrapped Evangeline with her cloak. I’d never forget that gesture. The firsts of the firsts. And it didn’t stop here.

In TBONA, Jacks continued to show that same care toward Evangeline. He protected her against bloodthirsty vampires, her mean stepsister, bratty gossipers, and even curses. Without any catches. He did them without asking anything in return. Without knowing, Jacks had warmed up to Evangeline. They teased each other, got under each other’s skin, and compromised like equal individuals.

It got to the point that their attraction to each other was so clear that LaLa thought Jacks was going to kiss Evangeline in the middle of her engagement party. What was sweet to me, that even though Jacks passed himself as dismissive villain to Evangeline, he truly cared about her and searched for a way to remove the curse bestowed on Evangeline.

He’d told her not to look for a cure to the Archer’s curse. He’d repeatedly said it was pointless. But it seemed as if he was doing just that… Evangeline couldn’t let herself think that Jacks’s search for a cure meant he cared for her. She knew this was true, yet it was getting a little harder to fully believe it. Because she was starting to care for him.

Like Jacks knew more than anyone that the Archer’s curse was unbreakable and yet he still tried to find a way…for Evangeline. My heart can’t take it. I’m seriously swooning all over again. Jacks cares about Evangeline. It’s so tender and soft and selfless that it captures the true aspect of Jacks’s character.

When Jacks and Evangeline are in the Hollow, their relationship develops into something more. Something beautiful and hopeful and a page out of a fairytale. We come to know in ACFTL that their time there was Jacks’s happiest day. EVER. I am distraught. Jacks opens up a little more about what happened at the Merrywood Manor.

Guilt clinged to him as he recalled trying to save Castor, as he tried to be a hero that night. Saving Evangeline was not him being a hero. Which is such a sad thought for him to have and yet it made total sense why he would feel this way. Because he couldn’t be a savior that day, he probably believes that anything he does isn’t enough. He could never save anyone again.

It opened up that raw part of him that we only ever see when he’s with Evangeline. She tries to understand his past and make him realize that he had done kind things for her, like holding her as she cried, carrying her as she bled, and bandaging her wounds when she was lashed via mirror curse. Jacks had been there for her.

The Hollow was the last place he was after he became Fate, which meant it was a place that he couldn’t find himself to return to because of all of the memories. Yet it was the place Jacks allowed himself to live in the moment with Evangeline. Being with Evangeline helped him drop his guard and do things that made my brows jump.

He cuddled with her, had breakfast and lunch with her, and lived a peaceful moment in the middle of all the cursed chaos.

In the morning, you can forget it. You can go back to pretending you don’t like me, and I can pretend that I don’t care. But for tonight, let me pretend you’re mine… If it’s easier, you can pretend, too. You can pretend that I’m still Jacks of the Hollow and that you want to be mine.

Evangeline thought he was being delirous but Jacks quickly set the record straight and denied that he was. It was probably the most genuine request he ever had.

Without a doubt he was in love. So in love. Nothing else was important. You can actually feel the happiness and hopefulness from the page. As much as this was Evangeline's happiness, this was also Jacks's.

Then there comes the moment Evangeline lets him go, tells him what he's feeling isn't real, and that it would all be over.

This was crushing.

Jacks's eyes were red. A flicker of pain passed over his features. He wanted to kiss Evangeline. He knew what he was feeling and yet the girl he has come to love has told him that whatever she was feeling for him was because of a rock.

One-sided love. Like the Hollow once Evangeline took the mirth stone, Jacks turned cold and brushed off Evangeline. He was harsh. He was hurt. When he got back to Chaos's Underground Lair, he turned his room upside down and ate so many apples.

With Evangeline's rejection, Jacks firmly believes that the love meant for him is with Tella. Even if he didn't love her. Even if Tella didn't want him.

The whole confrontation between Evangeline and Jacks revealed to us what Jacks wanted exactly. To go back to Tella, his "true love." Because she was the only who survived his kiss. This was the girl the curse promised him. It was her or no one.

Evangeline thought otherwise. But it didn't matter. Jacks cared so much about her that he rather they never met. Because if they keep going down the path, Jacks will not be able to hold himself back and kissing Evangeline.

His love would destroy her. His kiss would kill her. Jacks would do anything to prevent her from becoming another fox.

Despite what he tells her, Evangeline has become the most important person to him. Nothing has been so clearer than when Jacks's final words to Evangeline before she passed away.

“Evangeline—” His voice was hoarse. “Come back to me.…”

Side note, this was my favorite quote. I think this has to be my most favorite one in all of the books. I remembered gasping when I read it. My jaw literally dropped. It was the most truthful thing that Jacks has ever said.

Come back. To him.

Like, WOWWW!

Unable to accept Evangeline's passing, he took the stones and made a decision. The stones can only grant one wish. He was planning to use it to go back to Tella. But he took them and went back in time to save Evangeline.

“There is nothing of equal value to me.”

HE REWROTE HISTORY. HE CHOSE ANOTHER ENDING FOR THEM.

IS THERE ANY LOVE MORE TRUER THAN THEIRS? We’re finally at that part where we know, without a doubt, that Jacks loves Evangeline. If the “You’re not her” scene left any doubts, then they were long gone at this point. They could be endgame, this could be it, we could finally see a happy evajacks.

Until Apollo Acadian came in possessing a magic given to him by Aurora and tore Evangeline and Jacks apart by taking Evangeline’s memories of the past year.

Now we all know what happened behind the scenes here, so I’ll skip right ahead to the subject on hand. Guilt.

Jacks’s Guilt 💔

This is where Jacks’s heart has been, in a cold and unforgiving place surrounded by thick, tall walls made of steel. Since the beginning, all that Jacks has ever known was tragedy and remorse. When he learned that Evangeline had forgotten her memories, he believed it was because of his fault. Queen Honora had warned him against him going back in time and stopping Castor from killing Evangeline.

“That is not a small mistake to fix. If you do this, Time will take something equally valuable from you.”

Jacks thought that Time woul take it on him. Never Evangeline. He was to blame for Evangeline’s lost memories.

Guilt. It is the reason for the next steps he took in ACFTL. He still thinks that he isn’t a great fit for Evangeline because of his cursed kiss and the possibility that he could kill her if he wasn’t careful. Evangeline is safe with Apollo, happy even, where she should have been if it wasn’t for him. Apollo and Evangeline would have the fairytale love that Evangeline always wanted. Once he knew she could fend for herself, then he would leave forever and throw his heart into the fire of the Phoenix Tree, where he’d never have to feel this much for anyone or anything ever again. This way Evangeline could be safe from him.

If only it was that easy.

Jacks can’t seem to leave Evangeline alone. She’s always in his sight. He loves her, and when Evangeline sees him again, it hurts him to know that she’s not looking at him like before. That she had forgotten everything about him. Despite what Jacks had planned, he wants her to remember him and know him. He has hurt everyone, even her, so it shouldn’t make sense that he deserves a happy ending.

I think this is the most heartbreaking and most truthful thing about Jacks’s character. Because he couldn’t be a hero when Vengeance Slaughterwood killed the Merrywoods, he thinks he deserves so much worse. He deserves nothing.

He’d been brokenhearted. Not in the same sense that most people thought of, as if one person had broken his heart. Jacks’s heart had been broken over and over again unti it was no longer capable of hope and care and love.

Chapter 41 gives us the true reason for why Jacks is the way he is and more. Basically, everything I have listed above communicated between Evangeline and Jacks’s dialogue.

“You died, Evangeline. I held you in my arms as it happened.”

“Jacks … I don’t know what you’re talking about. I never died.”

“Yes, you did. The night you opened the Valory. The first time you did it, I didn’t go with you.” I couldn’t say goodbye. “It was only you and Chaos. As soon as his helm was off, he killed you. I tried to stop him—I tried to save you—but I couldn’t. When I got there, he had already bitten you—and he’d already taken too much blood. You died as soon as you were in my arms. The only thing I could do was use the stones to turn back time. I was warned it would cost me. I didn’t imagine it would take from you.” I’m sorry.

“You don’t need to be sorry, Jacks.”

“It’s my fault.”

Reading this whole exchange broke my heart. I could feel his guilt and suddenly realize that he’s been hiding his guilt behind this confident and careless act. Here, we could see this was another awful thing he did to Evangeline. Before Evangeline went with Chaos, Jacks had hurt her by telling her that he wanted to go back to Tella and that she wasn’t the one he wanted. When Evangeline opened the Valory for the second time, Jacks was yelling at her to leave, being rude to her so that she’d live. He’d been cruel. And that was how it ended between them before she really forgot everything.

I love Evangeline Fox so much. It has been really rare to find a character like her whose strength was her kindness and hope for greater and impossible things. Though this was a story centered around her search for true love, this was Jacks’s culmination of his pain and guilt.

Above everything else, Evangeline chose him for who he was and is. He was the villain, he was her monster, but he was also her true love and hers. This beautiful faith that Evangeline had in Jacks was what ultimately broke his curse. Jacks said “I love you” openly to Evangeline and you can see it as the truth. Sometimes something so simple is so poignant. There’s nothing to say but the truth of it all, and that was how I interpreted Jacks’s confession to her.

When Jacks confronted Apollo about Evangeline’s memories, it was met with fisted hands and brutal curses. I’m so glad we got to see Jacks pour out all his anger on him and let go for once. It was so cool to see. And I think he needed it.

Jacks chose Evangeline. His heart was with her. It didn’t matter to him where they went, as long as it was with her.

Conclusion

Pain is what made Jacks. I used to think he was being dramatic when he said it to Evangeline in OUABH. How could I? Haha. I even believed he was heartbroken because of Tella. But his pain wasn’t just about her, it was about everything that happened in his past. Lyric. Castor. The First Fox Girl. The girls he kissed and killed. Evangeline’s death and lost memories. His failure of being a hero.

In the Caraval trilogy, Jacks was aloof, troubling, and selfish. He wanted power. Then his heart started beating soon after it was clear Tella survived his kiss. He wanted love, no matter if it wasn’t real. Unlike the other Fates, Jacks wanted something simple and beautiful as someone choosing him because they loved him.

Even when he found that love, Jacks had selflessly chosen Evangeline’s safety over his desires because he cared about her. At heart, he had always been a caring and hopeful person. In the end, Jacks found happiness and Evangeline found her great love.

Nothing can stop them now.

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dreamingsnowflake2013 · 1 year

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THIS! The ultimate irony of fate. The interactions between Zhaoyou and Tantai Jin prove how much the timeline has already diverged thanks to Susu’s actions. The Xiaoyao Sect Leader meets a completely different man this time around, with completely different eyes, heart and soul, a transformed man who understands kindness, regret, humility and love because he’s gone through the most excruciating pain and torment a mortal can experience in his lifetime, yet instead of lashing out at the world and taking revenge, he has overcome his worst impulses and chosen to be good and deal with his pain on his own.

The DG Tantai Jin considered having a master as something demeaning, yet the word gains a new meaning to him, a teacher, someone to help him, educate him and show him the way, a figure he had sorely lacked in his life, until Susu appeared, who really explained and translated the world and emotions to him.

Therefore it’s really apt that he finds his new master in her surrogate uncle, who had also been a teacher to her (the time-travel paradox!) and in the very place where he had met her in the original timeline as his alter ego. It’s so powerful how, for him, everything begins and ends with her. He and his universe revolve around her even 500 years after he lost her.

The way both Tantai Jin’s teachers keep falling asleep during his lessons! He should ask for a refund or at least a discount.

Also, the fact that he thought about joining the very same sect in the past and wanted to learn cultivation there because he knew that devouring demons had many disadvantages and limits and wouldn’t sustain him in the long run.

Moreover, it’s the place Ming Ye left behind as his legacy, showing that even the most terrible places and things can turn into something good. The place is really a metaphor for Tantai Jn - that even the darkest things might be basked in light one day, just like he has become a good man. That it doesn’t matter how you start but how you end and what decisions you make to get there.

It’s meaningful how Tantai Jin’s first reaction at seeing the sect contrasts the Devil God’s - instead of destruction, he can finally see the beauty and light of it and appreciate it because Susu made him understand light.

Even the first meeting between Zhaoyou and Tantai Jin in the new timeline portrays a complete reversal of their original dynamic. With Tantai Jin kneeling now and seeking death and the sect leader being the one doing the teasing and playing with him.

Tantai Jin becomes the direct opposite of the Devil God up to his wardrobe, he wears a white silvery coronet headpiece instead of black, the colour pallete of his clothing is inversed and he lacks the dark armour with claw-like hand guards that made the Devil God appear so utterly inhuman.

If you can’t beat them, join them!

I adore how the one thing that both alter egos of Tantai Jin have in common is that they both end up seeking something from the Sect, its secrets - the Devil God looks for the only thing that can destroy him, the Mirror of the Past, while Tantai Jin searches for a hope how to resurrect his “dead” lover, but instead of blackmailing the Leader he begs him to teach him.

The way the sect leader helps Tantai Jin to stand up, preserving his dignity, after having to kneel and prostate himself for the better part of his life to survive and having to squash his own dignity in the process. The people in his life ordered and forced him to kneel, just like the original Ye Xiwu, but he kneels for Susu willingly now.

Finally, the fact that the Devil God had never been content or happy but for Tantai Jin, his life at the Sect, together with the time he spent with Susu, is the time he actually feels contentment and happiness.

#till the end of the moon #luo yunxi #bai lu #cdrama

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ardafanonarch · 4 months

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Heirlooms of the Númenoreans: Aranrúth and Narsil

Swords of the First Age, Part 2 of 3

[This is a continuation of the response to this ask.]

Aranrúth

Meaning: King’s Ire. Sindarin.

Maker: Unknown. (See discussion.)

Owned/wielded by: Thingol, [Dior?], Elwing, Elros, the Kings of Númenor. (See discussion.)

Fate: Did not survive the downfall of Númenor (Unfinished Tales, ‘A Description of Númenor’, note 2).

Aranrúth. ‘King’s Ire’, the name of Thingol’s sword. Aranrúth survived the ruin of Doriath and was possessed by the Kings of Númenor. Index of The Silmarillion

‘I ask then for a sword of worth,’ said Beleg; ‘for the Orcs come now too thick and close for a bow only, and such blade as I have is no match for their armour.’ ‘Choose from all that I have,’ said Thingol, ‘save only Aranrúth, my own.’ The Silmarillion, ‘Of Túrin Turambar’

Discussion

We do not know who made Aranrúth. We do, however, know that the Sindar’s first weapons were forged by the Dwarves:

Therefore Thingol took thought for arms, which before his people had not needed, and these at first the Naugrim smithied for him; for they were greatly skilled in such work, though none among them surpassed the craftsmen of Nogrod, of whom Telchar the smith was greatest in renown. The Silmarillion, ‘Of the Sindar’

So potentially Aranrúth was forged by Dwarves, perhaps even Telchar.

There is another curious passage about Thingol’s armouries in The Children of Húrin:

Now Thingol had in Menegroth deep armouries filled with great wealth of weapons: metal wrought like fishes' mail and shining like water in the moon; swords and axes, shields and helms, wrought by Telchar himself or by his master Gamil Zirak the old, or by elven-wrights more skilful still. For some things he had received in gift that came out of Valinor and were wrought by Fëanor in his mastery, than whom no craftsman was greater in all the days of the world. The Children of Húrin, ‘The Departure of Túrin’

Dwarven smiths, including Telchar and Gamil Zirak, are mentioned again; but according to this passage, at least, Thingol also possessed Noldorin weaponry, including objects wrought by Fëanor himself!

And, of course, we know Eöl, formerly Thingol’s subject, was a weaponsmith so it’s not like none of the Sindar possessed this skill. We also do not know when it was forged, save that Thingol definitely possessed it by the time Anglachel passed to Beleg. In sum, there are myriad possibilities for the maker of Aranrúth.

Was Aranrúth ever used in combat? Yes: While we do not see Thingol fight much in the Silmarillion, he was involved in combat in the First Battle (The Silmarillion, ‘Of the Sindar’). In an unwritten Canto of Lay of Leithian, Tolkien wrote the outline of a battle between Thingol’s army and Orcs who were searching for Lúthien on the borders of Doriath. It is said that “Thingol himself slays Boldog,” the Orc captain, in their victory (The Lays of Beleriand, The Lay of Leithian, ‘The Unwritten Cantos’ 12). So Thingol did engage in combat, and it’s reasonable to assume Aranrúth was his weapon in these battles.

Unfinished Tales (‘A Description of Númenor’, footnote 2) tells us:

The King’s sword was indeed Aranrúth, the sword of Elu Thingol of Doriath in Beleriand, that had descended to Elros from Elwing his mother.

This is one of those places with frustratingly, and tantalisingly, few details and gaps in the narrative. First of all, we do not know how Aranrúth passed from Thingol to Elwing (presumably via Dior, but not confirmed). Second, we don’t know how Aranrúth was saved from both the sack of Doriath and the sack of Sirion. This is complicated by the fact that Elwing was a child at the time of the former, and Elros her son was a child at the time of the latter. Surely an adult would have been involved in the transportation and transferral of this mighty weapon, but who? This is where you’ll find some interesting possibilities explored by fans: Was Oropher perhaps involved, the Iathren father of Thranduil never written into the Silmarillion? Or Galadriel, whose whereabouts at this time are inconclusive? Did Gil-galad find it in Sirion and pass it on to Elros later? Or did Maglor bring it with him out of Sirion and pass it on to his foster Elros? Up to you! Canon does not tell us.

Finally, all we know of Aranrúth’s fate is that it did not survive the Downfall. But if Ar-Pharazôn had it on him when he went ashore in Valinor, might it have been buried with him?

Narsil

Meaning: Red and White Flame (according to LotR index). Quenya.

Maker: Telchar

Owned/wielded by: Unknown; Elendil, who wielded it in the War of the Last Alliance; shards borne by Isildur, Valandil and his line; reforged as Andúril and wielded by Aragorn in the War of the Ring.

Notable for: cutting the Ring from Sauron’s hand.

Fate: broken in the War of the Last Alliance; shards borne by Elendil’s heirs through the Third Age and eventually reforged as Andúril.

But at the last the siege was so strait that Sauron himself came forth; and he wrestled with Gil-galad and Elendil, and they both were slain, and the sword of Elendil broke under him as he fell. But Sauron also was thrown down, and with the hilt-shard of Narsil Isildur cut the Ruling Ring from the hand of Sauron and took it for his own. The Silmarillion, ‘Of the Rings of Power and the Third Age' 'Here I set it,' he said, 'but I command you not to touch it, nor to permit any other to lay hand on it. In this elvish sheath dwells the Blade that was Broken and has been made again. Telchar first wrought it in the deeps of time. The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, ‘Chapter 6: The King of the Golden Hall’

Discussion

Narsil is a fascinating sword of the “First Age” because the only reason we know it even existed that early is Aragorn’s one mention of Telchar in The Two Towers, quoted above. The problem is, Elendil is the first confirmed owner of Narsil — at the end of the Second Age! This leaves over three-and-a-half millennia of history unaccounted for. Nothing in canon tells us how Narsil got from the smithies of Nogrod to Elendil. (Until I did this research, even I was certain that Elros was confirmed to have owned Narsil; not so.)

This mention has led fans to do some imaginative mental gymnastics devising a history for the famous Blade that was Broken. One popular interpretation is that Elros received Narsil from Maedhros, and this is not without basis in canon. For one, we know that Elros was fostered by Maglor and presumably knew Maedhros also (in some versions, it is in fact Maedhros who fosters the half-elven twins). There is also a canonical link between Maedhros and Telchar, recounted in the Narn i hîn Húrin in Unfinished Tales (the story was not reproduced in the Children of Húrin): when Maedhros saves the life of Azaghâl lord of Belegost in an Orc raid on the Dwarf road, Azaghâl gives him the Dragon-helm of Dor-lómin — another work of Telchar — as guerdon. Could Azaghâl have given him Narsil at the same time? Of course, there are plenty of other ways Maedhros might have received Narsil besides, this is just one of the more direct links.

There are also countless other ways Narsil could have come to Elendil. Another equally plausible explanation would be that it was one of the weapons in Thingol’s armouries, saved, like Aranrúth, from the sack of Doriath. And we don’t even know that Narsil was ever in Númenor! Could it have been Elrond’s sword, that he gave to his cousin many-times-removed when he came to Middle-earth? There are many, many tantalising possibilities.

Part 1 | Part 3

#weapons #aranruth #narsil #thingol #numenor #elendil #elros #the children of hurin #the lord of the rings #anon

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notyour-valentine · 10 months

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A Fair Exchange XL ~ Aemond Targaryen x Reader/OC (Angst)

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All my writing is produced by an adult and created with an adult audience in mind (18/21+). You are responsible for your own media consumption. I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

Summary: Aemonds proposal puts our Princess in a tough spot

Warning: bullying, blood, mention and threat of violence and death, mutilation, mention of torture and death, childbirth, injury, misogyny. Expect canon conforming tone and language. (18/21+)

[Series Masterlist]

Previously

Part XL

“It is a good plan. It is the best we have to make sure you get to safety. Deliver Jaehaera to Helaena for me, will you?”, he asked, giving her hands a little squeeze.

There was such finality in his voice.

“What about you?”, she asked.

He shrugged.

“I’ll find my way out of Dorne.”

All the while he had avoided meeting her gaze, his head lowered, his eye downcast, each word coming out mumbled yet certain.

She wanted to hit him. The urge came suddenly, from somewhere deep inside her, right along with a desire to scream. She wanted to slap him across the face with all her might, to shake him until his teeth rattled, to scream at him until he saw sense again.

But no matter how a blood curdling screech itched at the back of her throat, she couldn’t, not without drawing attention to them.

“How?”, she demanded to know through clenched teeth, not trusting her voice with much more lest her inner turmoil seize control of it to both their detriment.

“It doesn’t matter.”

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, reminding her that he was still wearing his boots, his heavy leather boots that seemed glued to his feet.

The fact that they still graced his feet now was proof that this decision was not a spur of the moment thing. Otherwise he would have left them with Luke and Jaehaera, for, despite their uses, they were not for swimming.

Now there was no doubt that he had planned this, had led her on in a game of make believe all the while knowing he was going to abandon them, going to betray her.

“How?”, she repeated, her voice trembling as all of her began to shake.

His hands had held her own gently but now hers tightened to the point it made them wince, but she refused to lessen her grip.

“Why do you care?”, he snapped, a lightning of rage appearing in his eye for but a heartbeat.

Why do you care?

How could he ask that? Now? After everything? After stilling her shaking hands when they were still coated in blood? After dropping the body of the guard into the sea? After all they had done, all they had seen, all they had survived to get here.

And now he sought to just leave her…just like that, without a fight, without a struggle, without a heroic last stand. No, Aemond Targaryen was content to simply slip away into the night, to leave her and the others to their fates.

“Go now. Luke is waiting.”, he urged, almost gently, but she could tell his tone was off. He was a fool if he thought she would fall for his feigned lightheartedness.

They hadn’t come this far to separate. Not now. Not yet.

“No.”, she said, glaring up at him in pure defiance and resentment.

“What did you say?”, he asked, leaning in as if it had been the volume of her voice that caused his confusion.

“I will not go.”, she stated, searching his face for any trace of a reaction.

She could see the quiver of his lip, the twitch in his jaw muscle, the narrowing of his eye.

“You have to! Luke is waiting, and he won’t leave without you!”

By the sound of him she was the greatest fool in the Seven Kingdoms for not already being halfway to the boat. How comical, since he was the only one acting the jester, and a poor one at that.

“He’ll have to wait because I won’t go alone.”, she insisted.

She could see him bristle at her word,his eye darting out into the darkness as if to make out the ship in the black of night.

“You are putting all our lives at risk with your stubbornness.”, he snarled, anger laced in with his impatience.

“The only one being stubborn is you! What in seven hells are you thinking? You said it yourself - this is the only way.”

The look on his face told her that he still believed that, and that he had no alternative plan lined up, that he had intended on leaving them to her fate while returning to complete uncertainty.

“You don’t understand-”

“You’re right I don’t!”, she snapped, cutting him off. “And we don’t have time for you to so graciously share your genius!”

The breath she took had the aim of calming her. It did little of the sort but calmed her voice.

“You said you know how to swim? The motions…?”, she asked.

Aemond hesitated for a moment before giving the faintest of nods. “But it’s not enough.”

“It will have to be enough.”, she insisted. “You know the motions. It’s the same over and over.”

She glanced down at him. “Besides, you are…trained, are you not?”

He had been strong enough to carry Luke through Sunspear at night for hours, had held her as she lowered them down the castle walls, had guarded and protected them only to shrink away from the sea of all things in fear.

“Why are you being difficult?”, Aemond hissed, yanking his hand away.

She reached up and grabbed his arm.

“Because I refuse to abandon you!”

He scoffed and shook his head.

“You are not abandoning me. In any case, you are abandoning Luke, who will-”

“Oh shut up!”, she snapped at him, as loud as the night would allow. It was far too easy to see through his ploy, to guilt her into leaving him behind in order for Luke, to force her to make a choice she didn’t have to make in the first place.

“Shut up, Aemond!”, she hissed, the man in question looking baffled at her insolence. He deserved more than rudeness now, for his idiocy. “I can’t and I won’t, not after everything.”

She shook her head. “We’ll go back together, go home together. Like we said!”

She had repeated that mantra over and over as if to speak it into existence, and if she backtracked even slightly on her promise to the heavens, she feared they would yank it all from her grasp and send them all into damnation.

“Don’t do this to me, Aemond!”, she asked, her voice cracking under the strain.

Whether she had worn him down or whether her voice failing her that made Aemond fall silent, she did not know, but he was silent once more, glancing at his feet.

She could feel he was scared.

Reaching up, she barely brushed her hand against his cheek to look at her.

“We’ll be fine, Aemond!”, she promised him, reaching for his hand and pulling him to the edge. They would be fine. They would have to be.

She sat down on the edge, with him next to her, and the fact that he did nearly made her weep with relief.

“Your boots…they’ll weigh you down.”, she said.

For a dreadful moment she feared that this would change his mind but then he reached down, undid the clasps and slipped them off one by one.

Once they sank to the bottom, she pushed herself off of the edge and into the water. At this time of night, it was refreshingly cool. Her hand remained on the edge, waiting with baited breath.

Slowly, Aemond let himself slip into the water as well, inhaling sharply.

Instead of pushing herself off and beginning to swim at her pace, she waited for Aemond to begin.

After a nod from her, he began, with strong and steady breaststrokes, though not nearly as quick as she would have liked.

He was slow, but he swam, and that would have to be good enough.

She let him set the pace as she looked out into the night, searching for the occasional glimmer of light that would be their own little lighthouse.

Aemond tried desperately to remember every lesson he had ever had, to breathe in when he pulled his arms back, and out when he pushed them forward. Or had it been the other way?

He could not tell whether they had swam for but a moment, or half an eternity. All he felt was the tightness in his chest, the taste of salt on his lips and the stinging around his sapphire eye.

That was the waves doing that came, hitting the side of his face, making him gasp and cough for air.

How anyone would ever voluntarily do this, was beyond him. There was even a religion on the Iron Islands, where they worshipped the drowned god, leading all their priests out to see and holding them under until they were closer to death than life.

Aemond recalled the images he had seen of this deity, with a grey beard laced with seaweed, with shells and driftwood intertwined, looming under the sea and feasting on sailors who fell prey to the dangers of the sea, some by accident, some by vanity.

It was nearly pitch black, but Aemond could almost see the red eyes looking up from beneath the waves, as if to await him.

The thought spurred him on to swim faster, quicker, moving his legs and arms as much as he could in an attempt to just get on.

But the opposite was happening. It was as if he was stuck, frozen between the waves as his chest grew ever tighter, and his limbs ever heavier.

It was as if a weight had reached for him from below, pulling him down.

He thrashed to get it away from him as someone called his name, but Aemond did not know if that came from the heavens above or the Drowned God below.

While still kicking, he felt a touch on his arm and pulled away so forcefully, his head broke through the surface, his mouth filling with salt water.

He thrashed more, in an attempt to put distance between him and anything that was touching him, dragging him down, but the more he tried, the fewer the gasps of air became.

The salt burned in his eyes, on his hands, in the back of his throat, and when he tried to breathe, only water filled his mouth and Aemond knew he was drowning.

There was no longer a way to know where up was, not in this darkness. The skies were just as black as the pits of the sea and both had conspired to trap him forever.

Everything was dark, everything was a hell created just to torment him. And Aemond knew he deserved it. He deserved hell for killing the man tonight, and the fat one back in Dorne, for being a resentful son and a jealous brother, for tormenting her and causing her pain.

And this was a hell just for him.

Still, Aemond was still kicking, his arms flaring at everything and nothing until he found something his hands could coil around, something he could pull himself towards. Upwards, he realised as he used all his weight, upwards.

Breaking through the surface,, he gasped for air, only to realise he was sinking again.

Bubbles slipped past his lips, wasting precious air as he searched around blindly for what he had used to push him up, finding it once more, or something else, what mattered was he found something to brace himself against to reach the surface once more.

Something, anything - only Aemond knew there was nothing. Nothing to hold onto, nothing to pull himself up with, unless that something was her.

If I’m pushing myself up on her, I’m pushing her down, he realised. If I’m pulling myself to the surface using her, I’m drowning her in my stead.

He felt the all familiar heat of torment rise inside him, the kind that would make his skin burn, his chest tighten and his hands tremble, only this time he had no air to give.

I’m killing her, he thought. I’m drowning her. My hands are the ones that end her life.

Just like in his nightmares, only they weren’t nightmares, not anymore.

White dots began to appear in his vision, shining brightly against the darkness. They were familiar to him from frightful nights past and he forced himself to focus on them, as he felt his body grow heavier.

Don’t fight it, he told himself. Fighting means dragging her down with me.

At least, if it wasn't too late.

His body was aflame with desperation, wishing to fight until he had no more, to put up a heroic last stand against the elements, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, but at what cost?

No, he couldn’t…he wouldn’t…if it was the last thing he ever did, Aemond would not drag her down with him.

If he hadn’t been surrounded by nothing but water, Aemond Targaryen may have wept.

And maybe he did, for only when the droplets ran into his mouth past his parted lips, did he realise he could still breathe, despite the choking, wretched coughs that shook his whole body.

Though it was a fruitless effort in the water, his body attempted to keel over in an attempt to aid the pressure on his upper chest as he gagged and splattered.

Only then did he realise there was a hand on his jaw, holding it in a firm grip. And another on the back of his head.

Panic surged inside him until he realised the hands were neither pushing nor pulling him, just holding him.

And the hands were warm.

In a world of cold water and biting salt that tore at his lips, buried itself into the scar around his lost eye, while scorching his lungs, those hands were warm..

As he coughed, gushes of salt water ran down his chin and over the hands that held his head steady. And the coughing stayed even after the water subsided.

Yet the ache remained, but with more frequent breaths, despite his racing heartbeat, he felt his senses returning.

"I'm sorry.", He gasped, his throat aching with any attempt to speak.

Another wave of coughs came over him, making his chest seize up.

As soon as this fit subsided, he tried again.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry.", He mumbled.

"Can you hear me, Aemond?", She asked. "I need you to answer me, with words."

"Yes.", He said, the sound of her voice feeling as warm to him as her hands, although it too was breathless and strained.

"I've got you. It's alright. I've got you, you just have to stay still.", She assured him. "Relax your body, I've got you."

He tried, but he couldn't. His whole body was aching, and each splash of water against his face made the bubbling fear boil over.

"I've got you!", She assured him, and though he could not see her, he heard her voice, could feel her hands on his face, and hear her breaths.

They were as steady as if dictated to by a metron, and in the absence of her words, they were all he could rely on. And he did, awaiting their whispering sounds, counting them, and later, trying to sync his shaking breaths to it.

Only after a while did Aemond gather his senses to realise they were moving, or rather, she was moving them.

"I'm sorry.", He whispered again.

He didn't dare ask to be let go for fear he would slip from her grasp into the darkness beneath, but he had to help her.

With her hands holding him up, her legs were the ones doing all the work and once he thought on it, he could feel them kicking beneath him.

"I'm sorry.", He said again, trying to move his legs to help her.

"You're well, Aemond?", She asked. "Can you hear me?"

"I can hear you.", He assured her.

"We're nearly there. Were nearly there, Aemond.", she promised him.

The first time he saw the flicker of light he didn't trust his senses, remembering tales of shipwrecked sailors seeing ships come nearly daily, as their weakened minds sought to torment them.

But she seemed determined to follow or, and she was the one moving them both.

When her hand left the back of his head, icy fear crashed over him like an avalanche, only to realise she had reached for something that lay in the water, pulling the rope towards them.

"Can you keep yourself upright for a moment?", She asked. "Only a moment, then I can help you again. Just move your legs steadily!",

He tried, for her, but the absence of her warmth made his heart thunder so fiercely he feared it would rip from his chest.

In the darkness he could barely make out more than her silhouette as she reached around him, fastening the rope around his waist.

How she made the knot in the water, without view or vision, he did not know, but it held firm.

As his hands closed around the rope, he felt more relieved than ever to feel the rough fibre rub against his palm. To him there had never been a sweeter sting, for he could feel it was connected to something, and when he pulled at the rope, he could pull himself forward, inch by painful inch until he realised they were almost within touching distance of the hull of a ship.

Her hands brushed along its end until she found what she had been looking for.

"Here!", She told him, her voice slightly slurred as she guided his hand to the end of a rope ladder.

Aemond wanted nothing more than to finally feel anything beneath his feet than water, yearning for the stability of even the thinnest of woods, but something told him to still his haste.

"You first!", He told her, moving to the side slightly.

He was facing her dragon eye, white and amber even in the night, of the other though, he only caught a glimpse through her half hooded eye and that looked nearly completely white.

Her hands, that had tied the rope around his waist with such certainty, now fumbled to find a grip, any grip of their own.

But she pulled herself up ahead of him.

Aemond could feel her limbs trembling before him, and saw her hands slipping again and again.

T'was on the third or fourth step when her hands slipped once more, only this time her footing wasn't strong enough to catch her.

She crashed down into Aemond, who grunted at the impact, his hand twisting itself around the rope ladder to now hold both their weight as the other grabbed a fistful of her shirt, pulling her up only so much as to trap her between the ship and his body to keep her from falling.

At the best of times it would have been an easy thing to carry her, but these were far from the best of times and he wasn't even sure he had enough strength to pull himself up the ship, let alone her too.

"Luke!", He called upward into the darkness. "You have to help her!"

The sight of his nephew appearing on the side of the ship nearly brought him to tears.

"Get her up!", Aemond pleaded, pushing her up as much as he was still able to.

Her body was limp and trembling, and he wasn't even sure she was able to hear him.

Once he could, Luke grabbed her under the arms and pulled her up out of his sight.

Aemond leaned his head against the ship, taking a few breaths.

He was beyond exhausted, but he couldn't rest just yet. A few more steps, that was all it was, but just slipping off into slumber was so tempting it took all his will to grit his teeth and pull himself up step by agonising step.

When he finally felt his hands on the edges he pulled himself up and let his drained body tip over, hitting the deck in a thump.

But it was the deck, and that was all that mattered.

There he lay as he had fallen, for a handful of heartbeats of maybe a hundred more. It was the feeling of movement to his side that made him look.

He had held her for but a moment, but she had held him for Gods know how long, and she was smaller than he was, and frailer, so much frailer.

Every muscle and bone screamed in protest as he pushed himself up, stumbling over to where Luke had laid her on her back.

"To her side.", He mumbled, his knee hitting the deck. "It'll help her breathe."

He had learned from his hours in the training yard, from pushing his body well beyond the suitable, to the point of aching limbs and restless stomachs.

She would get worse if they didn't steady her properly.

He angled her knee, and her arm as he brought her to lie on her side, placing his head under the side of hers so it would lie on the hard floor.

With the other he reached for her neck, feeling the rapid and racing pulsing of her heart.

"I'm sorry.", He whispered again

Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts xx

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#valentineswritings #hotd #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen / reader #aemond targaryen / oc #aemond targaryen & reader #aemond targaryen & oc #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fanfic #asoiaf #fire and blood #the rogue prince #the princess and the queen #a fair exchange

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thana-topsy · 1 year

Text

"Dreamers"

The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim Hadvar/Ralof Chapter 4/5 Word count: 3712 Read it on AO3 ------

The Whiterun barracks were cramped, smelling of sweat and grease, with the lingering metallic tang of dried blood. The battle of Whiterun was almost a week past, and Hadvar was itching to leave the mangled mess of the city behind. An Imperial victory rang hollow when there was death and destruction everywhere he looked.

There had been no civilian casualties, thank the gods, but the damage done to the buildings and outer walls had been immense. The poor elves who owned the Drunken Huntsman had their establishment burned to the ground, and Hadvar wasn’t entirely sure which side had incited that.

All Stormcloaks that had survived the battle had been taken prisoner. Hadvar had frantically searched the faces of the captured soldiers as they were paraded past in shackles. There was only one that mattered.

It felt like the breath had been punched from his lungs when he finally saw him.

Ralof was almost unrecognizable at first. Not because of any wound or deformity, but because Hadvar had never seen him wearing such an expression. Defeat. Shame. It was like a different man wore his old friend’s skin—replaced him with some hopeless and hollow creature.

The fate of the prisoners had been undecided for a full day and full night. There’d been talk of execution, but even the most vindictive soldiers seemed to agree that it would have been imprudent at the very least. Skyrim had lost too many brothers and sisters over the past four years. Hadvar still feared it, though, plagued by a nameless emotion as he lay awake at night in the crowded barracks among the moans of the injured. But, in the end, the Empire had pardoned the ex-Stormcloaks… at a price.

“Yeah, they’ve got them all working the quarry just north of here,” said one of the other soldiers over a dinner of stale bread and greasy stew. “I hear Idolaf is driving them into the fucking ground.”

A round of laughter followed as Hadvar’s stomach hardened, ruining his appetite.

“Serves ‘em right,” agreed another.

“I hope they work the skin off their hands. Teach the damn traitors what it actually means to take care of Skyrim.”

“They should have just been off’d. Can’t trust a traitor. Who’s to say they won’t do it again?”

“There’s been enough bloodshed, brother. Enough for my lifetime, at least. Let them do what’s honorable.”

Hadvar set the remains of his dinner on his bedside table and left the barracks.

The winter air stung his face as he stepped outside, his breath lingering in clouds of steam. It was barely past dinner time but the sky was black as pitch, the stars winking coldly overhead. Reconstruction had halted for the evening, all progress frozen beneath a thin coating of fresh snow. The massive front gate was still splintered down the center from the battering ram used to break into the city. The fact that the Stormcloaks had even made it past the first portcullis spoke to their tenacity.

And it was all for nothing.

All the death, all the destruction.

Then… they lost.

Hadvar tried to imagine what it must feel like—tried to imagine if the tables had been turned and it was him in shackles, working in the blistering cold, mining rock to rebuild the city he’d razed. The hopeless expression Ralof had worn swam into view in his mind’s eye.

“I hear Idolaf is driving them into the fucking ground.”

His friend was a traitor. He was serving his time. It was better than the executioner’s block. But…

What did retribution look like? How much more suffering would justify the weight of his crimes?

“Hadvar.”

He jolted at the sound of his name, spinning on his heels. Legate Rikke approached, still in full armor. He automatically straightened his posture, saluting her formally. “Legate.”

“At ease. What are you doing out here? You’re not part of the night watch.”

Hadvar exhaled, relaxing into an informal rest. “Needed some fresh air.”

“Not much fresh air to be found out here.” She winced and looked away. There was a shallow gash across her cheek. “Just the smell of fire. And blood.”

Hadvar said nothing.

“It’s not over yet. We march to Windhelm on the morrow with as many men as we can muster.” She turned to face him again. “However, I want you to remain here in Whiterun.”

“Sir?”

“We need our people to oversee the reconstruction. People we can trust.” She shifted. “And I have a task for you.”

Hadvar straightened his back, lifting his chin. “I’m at your command, Legate.”

“We need last-minute intel before we leave. And I think you’re the best one to retrieve it.”

“I don’t follow…”

“Our march on Windhelm needs to be direct, efficient, and with as few casualties as possible. Our scouts know the major Stormcloak camps between here and Eastmarch, but we have blindspots in our route.” She pulled a canister from her belt and held it out for Hadvar to take. “I need you to help fill in the blind spots.”

“...How?”

“Interrogation.”

Hadvar’s face went cold. He looked down at the canister in Rikke’s outstretched hand then back up at her face. “Legate, I’m… honored that you’ve come to me with such an important task, and I mean no disrespect, but there are certain lines that I have to draw. For my own sanity. After the past three years—”

“Interrogation does not mean torture, Hadvar,” Rikke said. “I know that hasn’t always been the case in the past.”

Hadvar swallowed and took the canister from her, opening one end to find a curled piece of parchment inside.

“It’s a map. The main roadways between here and Windhelm. We need to know what camps we might encounter, where to avoid, where to expect an ambush, and anything else pertinent.”

“And where will I be obtaining this information?”

“From one of the prisoners. Ralof of Riverwood.”

Ralof’s name licked the inside of Hadvar’s lungs like a cold fire, turning his tongue to dust. “What makes you think he’ll cooperate?”

“I’ve arranged for his freedom if he does.”

Hadvar couldn’t help but bark a bitter laugh at that. “Ralof would not betray his men for his own freedom. He’s far too righteous for that. Too stubborn.”

“So convince him,” Rikke said. “You have until sunup.”

—

It was into the sleeping hours when Hadvar finally arrived at the quarry twenty minutes north of Whiterun. His preparations had taken longer than he’d anticipated, but hoped it would be well worth it. If all else failed, he’d be able to spend one last evening in the company of his old friend.

The prison camp was dark and quiet, the silence broken only by rattling coughs and loud sniffing. Hadvar grimaced from behind his helm, squinting as he held his torch aloft and followed one of the guards. The men and women were all loosely shackled to their beds, bound together by one long chain. It rattled and clanked whenever one of them moved.

“Ralof of Riverwood,” the guard said as they stopped at one of the beds. “On your feet.”

Ralof was curled on his side facing away from them. “For what?” he growled without turning over.

“On your feet, traitor.”

Hadvar winced but said nothing, watching as Ralof slowly righted himself. He glared at the guard, then Hadvar. “Whatever you want with me, I’m worthless to you. I promise you that.”

“Just do as you’re told,” said the guard, clamping metal manacles around Ralof’s wrists before unlocking the ones around his ankles. “Off you go.”

—

“Where are you taking me?” Ralof asked, his voice little more than a gravely wheeze beneath the howling wind.

Hadvar didn’t respond, continuing to lead him silently from atop his horse.

The Whiterun planes were bathed in cold moonlight, the ground hard with frost and dappled with snow. The night was silent around them, broken only by the sound of Hadvar’s horse snorting at the shadows.

Before long, the flickering light of Hadvar’s campsite could be seen over the crest of the hill. Ralof perked up, lifting his head and walking a little straighter.

“What’s all this?” he asked.

Hadvar still refused to answer, leading them over to the edge of the camp. It was situated beneath an overhang in the cliffs, cut back into the earth and away from the elements. He’d found the site the week prior when he and a few other soldiers had scouted the perimeter of the city in preparation for the siege. There’d been remnants of a fire pit and an old lean-to. It had probably been home to highwaymen at some point, now abandoned. Hadvar had toiled for nearly two hours in the darkness to whip the camp back into shape. Now, the fire crackled in the freshly dug pit, padded bedrolls beneath the lean-to, and a chest full of food and gear.

“Did the elves take your tongue? Eh? What do you want with me!” Ralof barked.

At long last, Hadvar dismounted, tying his horse to a post and turning to look at Ralof. He unfastened his helmet and pulled it from his head, resting it beneath his arm.

Ralof’s expression turned to shock, his jaw going slack. “Hadvar? What—?”

“Are you hungry?”

Ralof just stared at him, his expression clouded with suspicion and disbelief. “I’m… What is the meaning—?”

“Are you hungry?” Hadvar repeated.

“Of course I am! But what in the name of Talos are you doing!?” There was an edge of panic to his voice.

Hadvar gestured to the log by the fire. “Sit. Let me make you food. Then I’ll explain.”

Ralof remained where he was for a long moment, staring at Hadvar with wide eyes, a myriad of emotions shifting across his face: shock, frustration, fear. But eventually he shuffled stiffly over to sit beside the fire.

“You offer me food, yet still I’m bound.” He jingled his manacles for emphasis. “Speak to me Hadvar, I’m begging you.”

It had begun to snow, though they remained sheltered beneath the overhang. Hadvar continued to diligently heat their food over the fire, saying nothing. It wasn’t that he was trying to torture Ralof with silence, just that he didn’t know what to say. Rikke had too much confidence in him.

“My company sets out for Windhelm tomorrow,” Hadvar said finally. He figured including himself in the upcoming siege might work in his favor, even if he was technically ordered to stay behind. “We’ll be storming the Palace of the Kings. Putting an end to this damn war.”

Ralof was silent, his gaze never leaving Hadvar’s face.

“I need your help.”

“Fuck you.”

Hadvar sighed and began to ladle hot stew into a wooden bowl.

“Is this some piss-poor attempt to butter me up? Get me to let my guard down?” Ralof let out a bitter laugh. “There’s no world between here or Oblivion in which I’d help you.”

Hadvar handed him the bowl. Ralof just stared at him, wearing an expression of undisguised malice.

“You want the truth, Ralof?” Hadvar said, still holding out the bowl for him to take. “I never expected you to help. You’re as stubborn as an ass, and I told them as much. But they said they’d pardon you if you gave us any intel you could. Your sentence would be cut and you wouldn’t be stuck in that work camp for gods know how long.”

Ralof made no move to take the bowl of food, his expression unchanged.

“But I agreed to try to talk to you anyway. Not because I thought you’d actually help or give us intel or what-have-you. But because I figured, why not? This may be the last time I get to see my old friend. So here I am. Please take the damn bowl, my arm is getting tired.”

He could see Ralof’s jaw clenching and unclenching, but after another drawn-out moment of silence, he finally reached up and took the bowl.

“Damn you, Hadvar,” he said, sounding more exhausted than angry. “Damn you and your honeyed words.”

“You’ve been around thick-headed Stormcloaks for too long, Ralof. My words are as plain as unsalted bread.”

To Hadvar’s surprise, Ralof actually managed a weak laugh. “Aye…” He lifted the bowl to his mouth and gulped down a few bites before wiping his lips against his dirty forearm. “So what do these Imperial bastards expect me to know, eh? I’m no general.”

“You’re the highest rank that survived Whiterun. And they want to know what to expect on our march to Windhelm. Ambush sites, Stormcloak camps. Enough blood has been shed. They want to prevent needless loss on the march. These would be areas to avoid, not to seek out.”

“Is this what they told you?” Ralof asked, raising an eyebrow. “And you believed them?”

Hadvar sighed with a shrug. “I want to believe them, yes.”

Ralof shook his head, then tipped the bowl back and slurped down the remainder of its contents. He smacked his lips and smiled unkindly. “Thank you for the food. You can take me back to the camp now.”

“Ralof, please. Is there nothing you can tell me? Nothing at all?”

“No.”

Hadvar slumped forward, holding his head in his hands. “I just want it all to end.”

“You’re a fool for believing that this is the end of anything. This is the beginning of more suffering, more subjugation at the hands of the elves.”

“No, it’s not! Skyrim could never fight the Dominion without the help of the Empire! Don’t you get it? The Empire is our ally, not our enemy!”

“You’re wasting your breath, Hadvar.” Ralof tossed the wooden bowl onto the ground. “As I said, I’m ready to go back now.”

“Do you remember when we were seventeen?”

The question seemed to catch Ralof off-guard. He squinted across the fire.

Hadvar took a deep breath, his gaze unfocused as he looked into the crackling embers. “It was high summer. We’d visited Helgen because you were obsessed with that one girl whose name I forget. You always dragged me along with you, even when I didn’t want to go. And then you’d ditch me to go be with whatever-her-name-was. Except for that one night. You came and found me. And you…”

Hadvar glanced up to meet Ralof’s eyes. His expression was hard to parse, the hollowness of his cheeks and eyes cast in deep shadow, undulating with the flicker of the firelight.

“I would think about that night,” Hadvar continued. “And how I wished I could travel back in time and relive it over and over. And I just—” He dug the heels of his palms into his eyes with a frustrated growl. “I just wish we could have been on the same side, Ralof. Gods help me. I’m so sick of it all.”

Silence followed. Long and pregnant. The snowfall had stopped, and the planes beyond the shelter of the overhang were pale blue beneath the moonlight.

“Ingrid,” Ralof said at long last. “Her name was Ingrid.”

“Uhg.” Hadvar let out an undignified sniff, wiping the wetness from the corners of his eyes. “Right. Ingrid.”

“She was jealous of you,” Ralof continued. “That’s why she always stole me away.”

Hadvar let out a watery laugh. “That’s ridiculous.”

“s’true.”

Hadvar’s laugh sounded too young to his own ears. He suddenly felt like a gangly teenager all over again, parading around in oversized armor, putting one foot in front of the other because that’s what he was told to do. Keep moving, soldier. And dream of the day when the war will end.

That day was dawning. The war was ending.

Why didn’t it feel like a victory?

“There’s… nothing for me to tell you, Hadvar. Nothing.” Ralof leaned against his own knees with a tired sigh. “You won’t encounter any ambushes or rogue camps that they haven’t already stamped into the ground. But what they will find is a city full of men and women who are ready to fight. And a king who bows to no one.”

Hadvar sat unmoving for a long moment, letting Ralof’s words roll through his mind. Then, he got to his feet and walked over to unlock Ralof’s manacles.

“Thank you for your cooperation. You’re free to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” said Ralof, rubbing his wrists. “You’re going to take me back to that camp and I’m going to serve my time.”

“Don’t be foolish. Idolaf is mad with power and driven by vengeance. He’ll work you harder than you’ve ever worked in your life.”

“Aye, and I’ll be working alongside my brothers and sisters in arms. As it should be.”

“Damn you, Ralof!” Hadvar spat. “Damn your fucking pride.”

“It’s not pride, old friend. It’s honor. A Nord’s honor.”

Hadvar paused, hazarding a glance at Ralof’s face. He had that look—that righteous determination. He’d gone and romanticized his own imprisonment, spinning it into a tale of sacrifice and duty. There was no dissuading him. With a heavy sigh, Hadvar sat down next to him on the log. They stared into the dying fire together, the world as silent as the grave around them.

“I remember that night,” Ralof said, barely above a whisper. “When we were seventeen. We drank mead on the watchtower. You led the whole tavern in song.” He exhaled, and it might have been a laugh, might have been a sigh. “I was in love with you, you know.”

Hadvar’s heart slammed into his throat. He clenched and unclenched his fists, his expression drawing into a snarl as he continued to stare into the fire. “Why? Why tell me that now?”

“Because I’m a coward.”

Hadvar snapped to look at his friend, heart still pounding. He didn’t know what to say to that. Ralof was many things in his mind, but never once would he have considered him a coward. Never.

“I’ve lost so much over the last four years. I might even say that I’ve lost everything. What’s left to lose? I might as well say it.” Ralof sighed, and glanced sideways at Hadvar. “Plus, I’m going to be stuck in that prison camp. So I can confess anything I want, free of responsibility. That’s why I’m a coward.”

They lapsed into silence again. The fire crackled. Hadvar ran a hand over his face and along his jaw, mind churning.

Ralof picked up his discarded bowl off the ground, wiping the dirt off and picking at the wood grain.

“I was in love with you, too,” Hadvar finally squeezed out. Still am, he kept to himself. “Why didn’t either of us do anything about it?”

Ralof sighed, still absently bushing dirt off the bowl. “Because we were young and stupid. Probably thought we had all the time in the world. But we didn’t. We never do, eh? We’ve just got whatever’s happening right now.”

Hadvar gave a jerky nod.

Neither of them moved. Hadvar’s horse pawed at the ground. The wind whistled across the planes.

Then, in a flurry, they both turned and crashed together for a too-rough kiss. Ralof dropped the bowl. Hadvar was on his knees, grasping Ralof’s prison tunic in both his fists. Ralof’s hands were in his hair. He smelled like sweat and oil and earth; his mouth was warm. This kiss was nothing like when they were teenagers. It was violent and desperate. It cou.

Ralof pulled Hadvar’s lip between his teeth, groaning. The noise sent heat flooding into Hadvar’s cock. His heart slammed against his sternum like a war drum. He wanted everything. Everything. Anything he could take, he wanted it. Right then and there. Because when else was there?

They managed to make their way over to the bedrolls that Hadvar had set up. Maybe he’d known this would happen. Maybe it had been a subconscious wish. Either way, it was too cold to undress, but they ground against each other under the furs, beneath the lean-to. Hadvar could feel Ralof’s cock, hard against his thigh, his own leather pteruges riding up around his waist. Both of them were filthy and exhausted, but it didn’t matter. They kissed and bit and sucked with silent determination, but Hadvar failed to hold back a whimper when Ralof stuck his hands down his smalls and grabbed him.

This was most likely not what Rikke had in mind, Hadvar couldn’t help but think as Ralof jerked him off with a rough twist of his wrist. He came quicker than he had ever thought possible, biting down on Ralof’s earlobe with a shuddering moan.

With shaking arms, racing against his own impending exhaustion, he shifted onto his side, pulled Ralof’s back against his chest and reached down into his friend’s trousers. Ralof hissed and curled his hips into Hadvar’s grip. His cock was hot and thick, and under different circumstances Hadvar would have given anything to wrap his lips around it. Instead, he jerked it slowly beneath the roughspun fabric of Ralof’s pants. Too slowly, judging by the way Ralof bucked and grunted, trying to speed things along. Hadvar bit into Ralof’s shoulder where it curved to meet his neck, and his friend let out a rattling gasp.

“Biter,” he said. The only words they’d shared since they’d begun.

Hadvar just hummed against Ralof’s skin, increasing his speed, pulling Ralof to the edge, only to back off—they had until sunup. Ralof cursed and bucked, reaching back to claws at Hadvar’s hip, throwing his head back.

“Please.”

Two words between them, now.

Hadvar held his hand steady, let Ralof pump into his fist, and he soon spilled across Hadvar’s fingers with a breathy exhale, hips stuttering to a halt.

They lay silently for a long moment, breathing hard. Hadvar could feel his own spend drying against his thigh. He didn’t care. They were already filthy. What did it matter?

“Run away with me,” Hadvar murmured against Ralof’s shoulder. “Let’s go somewhere warm. Hammerfell. Let’s go to Hammerfell.”

It was a fantasy. He only half-meant it. Reality was the cold, frozen ground and the sun that would surely rise in the morning, red as blood.

“No, Hadvar,” said Ralof, still gripping Hadvar’s forearm. “I’m going back to that camp. And you’re going to kill the man who should have been our king.”

#topsy writes #skrim fanfic #community label: mature #elder scrolls #hadvar/ralof #ralof/hadvar #skyrim

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ichorai · 5 months

Note

new anon here ! i’ve been thinking so much about jaime and the bitter wolf. i’m very curious about her fate (what direction she sort of goes in, or if she survives) towards the end of the show and how / when she reunites with jaime after he helps her escape kings landing !

— 🐢

i'm definitely not planning on following the events of the show bcs after a certain point it just becomes utter shit so i'll def be going in my own direction! still working out the kinks, but rest assured that jaime and the bitter wolf will meet again :)

cut off for spoilers (in case anyone would rather just read the fic whenever it comes out rather than read the plan for the plot)!

right after the bitter wolf leaves king's landing, she sets off to find sansa, and jaime will also leave king's landing for the seige of riverrun (like in the books)! i'm planning for the bitter wolf to go on her own journey for quite a while. she changes her appearance by dyeing her hair a different color. she runs into trouble on sea and has to head inland. she crosses through one of the fishing villages near duskendale and heads towards the riverlands to get to the eyrie.

at maidenpool, she comes across brienne of tarth. brienne informs the bitter wolf about sandor clegane, and how she thinks he has sansa (when in fact, he has arya). this contradicts with what varys told her with sansa in the eyrie, but the bitter wolf trusts brienne far more than varys. she wonders if varys is conspiring with littlefinger and lied to her about sansa's whereabouts, if the eyrie is a trap of sorts.

brienne and the bitter wolf (and pod) search through the riverlands for sandor clegane, but are later told that he's dead. they come across rorge (masquerading as sandor) near the trident and get in a skirmish with him and his group. brienne is brutally wounded as she tries to protect the bitter wolf, but the bitter wolf mistakenly believes that she has died. the bitter wolf flees the trident and heads east towards the eyrie. it was her last hope to find sansa.

she asks an inkeeper about the vale, and learns that lysa arryn is dead, and petyr baelish is now the lord of the eyrie. this throws a wrench in the bitter wolf's plans, as she now can't just stroll into the vale without the threat of littlefinger giving her back to cersei lannister. not sure who to trust and what to do, the bitter wolf abandons her plans to go to the eyrie. this turns her back to the riverlands. the riverlands are js a never-ending doom cycle they can never escape istg

at a small village, she hears talk of the disastrous sieges in the riverlands with jaime lannister at the head of it all. she heads to pennytree, where she hears they have made camp. there, she meets with brienne and jaime. both are shocked to see her, and she is shocked to see brienne alive. jaime and bitter wolf catch up, and she finds herself angry with what he is doing (all the sieges in the riverlands helping house frey take over the tullys). this puts them at odds with each other because yk the freys murdered her nephew. the bitter wolf was already struggling to forgive him for what he did to bran, and now she finds herself completely torn with jaime. what's worse is that she's definitely still in love with him, and just doesn't know what to do.

i'm still struggling to figure out what to do with brienne/lady stoneheart because we're still not sure of brienne's intentions in the book and whether or not she lies to jaime and is going to betray him, or if she's just biding time, or if jaime will die at stoneheart's hands, or if there will be a trial by combat of some sorts, or if jaime will simply be taken captive again, or if he'll be released from stoneheart somehow. i'm also trying to figure out what the relationship between lady stoneheart and bitter wolf will be </3 i js know it'll be a lot of pain ;-;

i'm exploring options rn! but i love jaime and bitter wolf so bad </3 juggling between several different pathways where the bitter wolf is put in a position against jaime and sides with stoneheart because of all his seiges on the tullys. like the tragic trope of having to fight the person you love etc etc

or i could go with the bitter wolf telling stoneheart about sansa in the eyrie and begs to have jaime redeem himself and fulfill his oath by having him go and save sansa. but idk if stoneheart would ever let go of jaime alive ykwim ???

if any of you have suggestions or would js like to discuss the story moving forward i'd love to hear it :)

#i'm not made by design #bitter wolf is sooo near and dear to my heart #part two is still being planned out bcs it's so hard to plan out with all the tiny details and also working around the show/book canon #but if anyone wants to chime in their input it'd be greatly appreciated !!! :)#this story is so hard to plan omfg

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outofangband · 1 year

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Do you have any dark headcanons for Gwindor?

Plenty! A selection for you! I have my first collection of Gwindor headcanons here.

Angband World Building and Aftermath of Captivity Masterlist The Mines of Angband

content warnings for like everything... well not literally everything but. Implied cannibalism, mentions and implications of abuse of all kinds, coercion, general mistreatment, death and misery, eugenics mindset (disposing of prisoners unable to work, etc)

I hope this is ok, anon! Let me know if you want anything else!

Gwindor suffers the indignity of Angband’s intake process during his first week though of course he has no way to know how long it has been. All personal possessions, clothes and armor are stripped away and for the first several days he is given no clothing to replace it. Nudity among the elves is not considered a matter of shame but there is a difference between being naked with several trusted companions in warm springs and being naked and exposed in the dark after being roughly bound and searched. Captured during the Nírnaeth and part of a group who had managed to get further into Angband than most of the Union, Gwindor is first put into an isolated cell before being subjected to two days of interrogation. After it is discovered that he knows very little, his long braids are cut and he is branded twice; once with the normal thrall brand and then with the primary mark of the mines where he is sent.

Gwindor does not know the contents of most meals he eats in the mines. He does not wish to know and tries very hard not to hear the whispered rumors, sometimes coming as cruel jives, sometimes as earnest warnings. He dislikes any meat following his escape.

After a severe laceration during a mining accident, Gwindor is 'chosen' to participate in an experimental procedure when its believed he wouldn't be able to otherwise recover. He had never made himself indispensable to his overseers as his survival methods were mainly to be overlooked and ignored as much as possible so he has no choice but to participate or to meet the other fates of thralls in the mines who are no longer useful. He has known of several who have met these fates and though his will to live is not strong, he does not wish to be sent to the pits or become fodder, disposable entertainment, or the myriad of other horrors that befall slaves unable to work. The procedure is painful and his time in the medicinal chambers remembered as deeply unpleasant, exposing and invasive. It works however leaving nothing but a jagged scar on his left leg with slightly discolored skin due to the salve that was used.

One of his fellow slaves whose sleeping spot is next to his assigned one is the favorite of another overseer and Gwindor is privy to the abuse they suffer as a result. Though they are occasionally given small rewards, Gwindor always refuses to share them when offered. He has as much difficulty acknowledging the hurt to others as to himself and it is often this that haunts him after his escape.

Another overseer does attempt similar abuse with him, on two occasions, possibly intrigued by the fact that he is one of very few who hail from Nargothrond, but becomes disinterested by his resignation.

There is of course that feast I wrote about where he witnesses some truly horrific things :) It's one of the few times he goes above the mines in Angband. The mines are far from a sanctuary but the short time on the upper levels stand out as a source of horror and shame for Gwindor

As I wrote these, I realized a lot of similarities with my headcanons about Aerin’s captivity though there are interesting differences too. Aerin also survives her captivity through a persona designed to be overlooked but in her case, it's more acutely weaponized. Gwindor escapes due to his own strength, courage and wits of course but the opportunity that allows it is due to luck. I do not think he tried to escape beforehand, he was incredibly beaten down after the first few years.

#the silmarillion #the children of húrin #gwindor #in the Iron hell #musing and meta #cw abuse #aerin #(becuase of the note)

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saspectrum · 1 year

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how so did they butcher it? i haven’t read the manga

in the manga he is a medical student who couldn't care less about human emotions. he pities his patients and puts on this good man mask in front of them only to throw away their wills (that they entrusted him with) without even showing their relatives.

he's becoming a doctor because his father was one. Chishiya thinks that maybe sharing professions with him could lead to them having a real father-son relationship. talking about his childhood, he says that he only ever knew saw his father's back, never his face, because he was too busy studying medicine bent over his desk.

Chishiya hopes that saving lives as a doctor could make him more sympathetic and could led to him finally understanding life. his view on humans doesn't really change and he is left with a dislike for others and himself.

during his first game in the Borderlands (which is not shown in the tv series) it is said that he has "no concept of human life". he is willing to risk others to win and progress in the games. he openly cheats just to see if he can get away with it knowing full well that being caught means death.

he's not particularly attached to his own life, he thinks he exists purely to show "how empty a human can be". his victories are dictated by his intelligence, sure, but he wants to go on in the Borderlands to see what happens next. to show others the kind of genius he is and to find other interesting people to play with and win against.

for him, games are just games.

he's selfish, he's willing to throw his companion's lives under the bus (like he did before the ten of hearts game in the first season) and he isn't interested in anyone's survival but his own.

the fact that Arisu and Karube played the Oni vs Humans game to search for a doctor and Chishiya didn't help them says that much. he could have helped people in so many occasions and he didn't.

during the King of Diamonds game he mocks Kuzuryu. telling the attorney his choice (100) is his way to challenge him, to understand how little his own life is worth and what the man would give away to repent for his old life's sin. Kuzuryu in fact doesn't save him in the manga, he presses both 1 and 0 and lets fate decide who lives and who dies.

Chishiya, on the other hand, would never "go with his gut" like they show in the series. he's extremely calculating and I was confused by that scene in the Netflix adaption. considering he was never part of the Jack of Hearts game in the original story, watching him alone and without a plan for himself made me think they wanted to make him more human and empathetic, whish he is not in the manga.

I think he's the least relatable in terms of humanity and motivations, head to head with Niragi, but Netflix decided to make him fully a fan favourite and "fix" this part of his character.

knowing that Chishiya is basically emotionless, depressed and over all an asshole that doesn't really care about anyone and actively tries to make their lives worse, him jumping in front Usagi to save her and him telling Arisu he's jealous of how naive people live life, is much more significant. he's trying to understand others in his own way.

he spent his life thinking everyone was under him, convinced that he was the only smart being in the world, only to understand the meaning of his existence in the Borderlands.

even when he talks to Niragi in the hospital and tells him he "was an asshole too" makes more sense knowing his real backstory.

he's never been a morally good character and up until the end he didn't have the capacity to change. he's just hoping to be less of a dick.

I really hope this explains even a little how Chishiya's character was built in the manga.

if you see any mistakes I'm sorry, english isn't my first language.

have a good day💖💖💖

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hollowayhqs · 1 year

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CHARACTER INFORMATION:

Name: alexander varelius.

Age: he is well over 1,300 years old, although, he appears to be around 24.

Gender: male.

Pronouns: he/him.

Species: an original vampire.

Face claim: dacre montgomery.

Character Occupation: he owns the bellflower bakery in town. he is also the head of a worldwide real estate company, the sanctificata nocte corporation, which is stationed out in spain.

Neighbourhood of residence: the manors.

Affiliation: the holloway coven, specifically.

Length of stay in Holloway: he's been in town on and off throughout the past 1,300 years.

CHARACTER SUMMARY:

being brought up in a household chalk full of abuse and neglect was bad enough on its own. the fact that fate also made him a northman, born in the seventh century? really destroyed any chances he had of being a decent person.

from the very moment he could walk alexander was trained by his father.

to be a true viking warrior

beaten, until he could endure pain. starved, until he could endure hunger. left without clothes or shelter, until he could endure harsh weather conditions. forced not only to learn how to take care of himself but his people as well; to fight and defend and overcome any possible threats.

while each of his older brothers tried their best to live up to their father’s expectations, in this, he excelled. especially when it came to raids. if only because he had been completely hollowed out. unable to feel anything except the delicious thrill which came from bloodshed in the ensuing mayhem and uncertainty on whether he would make it out alive. the bigger the loot meant more opponents, and, in turn, double his excitement. though somehow he always did. make it out, that is. killing with a certain level of viciousness that only those without a soul would ever be comfortable with.

by the mere age of thirteen he was a being that many claimed not to fear yet never spoke of without being accompanied by a cold sweat and a quick glance over the shoulder.

d e n s j e l l ø s e

once word spread about faraway lands fraught with riches, the chieftain of his clan made a decision. that they were to go out and find this alleged wealth and take it all for themselves. so alexander spent literal months out at sea. as did everyone else, who chose to tag along. the norwegian ship eventually landing on the shores of what would be established as north carolina. a place that changed the course of his life forever. because what they ultimately found? was death. were set upon by a hoard of creatures that could almost be mistaken for average wolves if not for their huge, distorted forms. the rabid assault leaving a stack of cadavers in its wake.

including his parents and two of his siblings.

with nowhere else to turn, and only four other warriors still standing amongst them, those who survived trudged across strange lands in search of a place to call home.

which is exactly what they found when they stumbled across a village led by a woman named marisol.

she was one hell of a leader, too. as brutal as she was beautiful. well versed in the dark arts. and she absolutely hated outsiders. yet for reasons unknown, she had invited their little group to settle on down. instantaneously taking alexander under her wing, specifically; treating him as if he was her own and giving him all the love he was deprived of by the two adults he had once called parents.

for nearly five whole years, alexander lived a relatively normal life.

and it was..... boring as fuck.

something he never really appreciated until the very same kind of creatures that had killed the majority of his viking brethren descended upon his new home.

even through the combined power of the witches and the village's warriors, many ended up being ripped apart. though the true target ended up being none other than the woman who held his very heart. marisol lapahie. in her final moments, she demanded vengeance. dove into the darkest depths of her magic to turn him into an entirely different kind of beast.

one even the other monsters would fear.

so with her rich blood deep in his throat, coating the words that passed through his lips a vow to protect those who remained of her coven that is exactly what he became, his heart beating its last beat just as she breathed out her last breath.

all that subsequent power obtained enough to make an already sociopathic killer damn near invincible.

the werewolves didn't really stand a chance, after that. he slaughtered the lot of them. any who managed to cling to life despite their wounds were ruthlessly tortured once they reverted back to their human visage. the neighboring witches who were then revealed to have orchestrated his beloved's death due to fear over her growing powers, suffered the worst out of all his victims.

in the midst of well deserved retribution, he worked hard to repair the damage done to his home. each member of the coven going above and beyond to prove their appreciation. mostly by taking excerpts from different spells in marisol's grimoires until they finally pieced together a way for him to be free from the unexpected shackles from the sun. it didn't even matter how many faeries they had to sacrifice to actually do it. everyone managed to heal with time, in their own ways, and their community was whole and well before long.

the moment came, however, when alexander traveled elsewhere, with his siblings.

yet he never failed to keep true to his words.

he hunted for mystical artifacts that could boost their power. sent plenty of gold and valuables to keep them supported. he even turned others into vampires and compelled them to protect his witches with their very lives; sending another in their place, once they perished.

aside from a few check ups here and there to ensure that things at home were indeed running smooth, his physical presence remained relatively scarce. except for when certain problems arose that were just too much for them to handle on their own. like the hollow goal massacre of the sixteenth century. upon arrival, alexander wasted no time. proceeded to do what he was born for. he butchered every last single being who dared cause those in his coven any harm. while everyone else was dealing with the fallout from writ large carnage, he helped the witches rebuild their strength and position in the form of a high council.

the desperate cries of mercy that still echoed throughout the town of holloway, even all these centuries later?

only served to remind any potential foes of the norweigan title which had been bestowed upon him oh so many moons ago.

#supernatural rp #spn rp #town rp #small town rp #mature rp #relaxed rp #bio rp #oc rp #mumu rp #horror rp #tvd rp #varelius

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semper-legens · 1 year

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13. The Silver Collar, by Antonia Hodgson

Owned?: No, library Page count: 312 My summary: Thomas Hawkins, after surviving a death sentence and the ire of all of London (it seemed), was looking forward to a quiet time of relaxation. But when a bothersome preacher darkens his door, he soon finds himself in a spot of trouble. What does the preacher want with his girlfriend Kitty? Who wants him dead? And when he finds the truth, how will he save himself and Kitty from a terrible fate? My rating: 4/5 My commentary:

Some books just sort of call to you. Like this one, as a point of fact. It was out on one of our displays in the library, and I kept casting it curious glances every time I was shelving or doing the item request and happened to wander by. A historical mystery set, not in the Victorian era as is so common, but in the 1720s? Featuring a rogue who is notorious for having escaped the gallows, and touching on the impact of slavery in Britain? My interest, as I am sure you have gathered, was piqued, and I decided I was going to read this one posthaste. And, reader, I was not disappointed.

However, one note - is there anything so disheartening as getting about 50-100 pages into a book you're enjoying only to realise that, not only is it not the first in a series, but is in fact the fourth? People who design book covers should put that information front and centre, I swear it. Nevertheless, it is to this book's credit that I was never lost without the context of the previous books. Events pertinent to this book were recapped in a brief, but informative manner that was still entertaining, and the status quo of the characters and their relationships was well laid out from the get-go. Which, if you're going to come into a book series at the fourth instalment, was pretty much the ideal. No complaints from me writing-wise on that front!

So what of the actual book itself? It was a good read! I'm always interested in historical fiction that doesn't centre the white aristocracy or middle-class, and although the protagonist, Thomas Hawkins, is a gentleman by birth, he doesn't really have any of the privileges associated with it. Kitty, his girlfriend, likewise comes from money but is basically living as a pauper. There is mention of gay characters from previous instalments, and a major supporting character is Jeremiah, a previously-enslaved black man who is searching for his daughter. Jeremiah is interesting - the traumas he has experienced meant that he spoke with a stammer, but when he tells his story in writing he is eloquent and passionate. He is dedicated to his daughter, to the point of calling out Thomas when it seems that Thomas is just using him for his own revenge, and not wanting to help Jeremiah on his own and for his ends. This idea of a man born into slavery who manages to free himself and carve out a life is incredibly compelling, even if it's ultimately not the point of the book.

That's not to say that our main protagonist isn't anything to write home about, either. Thomas is exactly my kind of historical male character - rogueish, dashing, criminal, but with a heart of gold and a burning passion to do what's right, even when it goes against the social mores of the time. What I liked about Thomas was that he had elements of the Genius Detective archetype - he's very quick and makes logical deductions based on cold-reading his clients - but he shows how he came to his conclusions or where he just bluffed or made a lucky guess, and sometimes he's wrong, with devastating consequences. It's a more realistic take on that trope and I'm glad to see it. He's also chugging that Respect Women juice, which for an 18th century fella is very good to see.What else? Kitty, Thomas' not-wife, is a reasonably strong character as she fights against her kidnapper, though at times she did fall too much into the distressed damsel archetype for my liking. The villain is deliciously evil. And the glimpses into Thomas' past adventures, far from putting me off, ended up galvanising me to request the three previous books from the library. So, uh, watch this space for those, I guess!

Next up, we're back to the world of the vampire, as Lestat takes the stage.

#The Silver Collar #Antonia Hodgson #bookblr #book blog #book blogger #4

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floaroanemoia · 1 year

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❛ if i could make a deal with god, and i’d get him to swap our places. ❜ --windsweptrun

Quotes that broke me starters || Accepting @windsweptrun

He fills the silences between them in such odd ways, she has noticed. Just as embers catch in the wind, or as bodies fatigued from a day’s worth of trekking make themselves comfortable upon the ground of a newly-established tent, it seems as though Howl is incapable of letting the quietness fester. Be it little, witty jabs at the medium, or topics brought up of a more serious nature—the only consistent aspect Sarana has noted is their appearance in response to being made to face the coldness of the night. Fingers had been fastening a knot between kettle and a beam of support above a cooking fire when he speaks up. The final touch of a routine she has known since early childhood, and one the blonde had insisted on doing by herself for the most part, save the placement of a few, structural logs at the beginning. In fact, as far as Sarana can recall, never has she allowed Howl to step foot inside until smoke could be seen billowing from the top of the structure.

And perhaps that had been what prompted his statement this time.

“…You say such nonsensical things, sometimes,”

Comes her immediate response—the sort that accompanies itself with an exaggerated sigh and the rolling of crimson eyes. Rope is tugged, the final step of an intricate knot keeping what would be a vital source of warmth throughout the night secure, and hands fall back to the woman’s side with an unceremonious thud.

“I would ask for no other path to follow than the one already laid out before me.”

With a shrug, her characteristic cloak is shed—the garment shaken so that the remnants of snow clinging to fur lining might fall upon the ground before placing it atop a stack of wood. Perhaps it all seems like so much work, to one like him; to one who does not lead a lifestyle similar to her own. To constantly be on the move—to set down one’s roots for a few days at most, before packing their entire life up and travelling elsewhere to start the cycle all over again. The rituals and traditions. To spend time painstakingly ensuring that the area was as undisturbed as it was prior to when they had set foot there. The search for a family of deities that once lived alongside them, missing now for eighty generations, to save part of their ancestral home and prevent further decay. Yet Sarana would not trade it for the world; would want no life ‘simpler’ or less reliant on her ability to survive despite the odds.

“We are all given a destination to arrive at. A purpose in life to pursue, fit only for that creation—made only for their unique combination of strengths and weaknesses. You could not walk my path, and I cannot walk yours.”

Could he even begin to understand the dire nature of all that she—of all that her people—do? Just why they are so committed to the search? Why walking amongst ruins is less immersing oneself in forgotten history, but instead a heart wrenching reminder of the tragedy that unfolded thousands of years ago? Maybe so. Maybe not. Regardless, as she knees upon the floor and fishes around for something in the depths of a bag, the medium tells herself to not mull over such questions too much.

“So help me, Howl… do not speak such words near the sacred lakes—near the Fates’ dwellings. Lest you wish to lose your memory, emotions or the will to go on.”

#❁⊱⦃ ⏤ {ic.} ⦄⊰❁#❁⊱⦃ ⏤ {ask.} ⦄⊰❁#windsweptrun #{Howl.}#{sarana vc: 🎶i'd be running up that road. Be running up that hill. To switch them back🎶}

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arentyouafraidofmydarkness · 2 years

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Chapter 1: I Am a Witch

Summary: Persephone Keres is a witch with a dark past; she never imagined that a knock on her door from the celebrity and her current boss, Kim Taehyung would lead her right to what she was running from. When she started working for the biggest band in the world as a stylist, she believed she was finally escaping her fate but the Gods had entangled their destinies, and now the only way to survive what was coming was… together.

Genre: fantasy, polyamorous relationship, witches, bts idol au, romance, fluff, angst

Pairing: BTS x Female original character

Rating: Mature (may include violence, sex, smoking, cursing)

Word count: 7.0k+

Cross posted on Ao3 and Wattpad

Masterlist | Next Chapter >

My hotel room looked like a tornado passed through but I couldn’t find my lighter, my needed for a cigarette was starting to become desperation. Travel days always got on my nerves. My Witch side didn’t respond that well to airplanes.

A strong knock on my door made me stop my search, with slight resignation I stood from my current position on the floor, replied a “coming” while grabbing my purse and proceeded to go answer the door.

To say that I wasn’t expecting the person that was standing on the other side of the door was an understatement, it took me a whole 30 second to react and make a 90 degree bow.

“Mr. Kim good night, is there anything I can do for you?” Kim Taehyung, a member of the largest boyband in the world… and my boss was standing in front of my door scratching his head, grinning like a teenager about to ask permission to go out to his parents.

“Hi” he did a quick bow “are you Persephone? Sorry to bother you but one of the other stylist may have said that you where the one to see if I wanted a cigarette.” This makes me chuckle.

“Please call me Seph and I guess my reputation precedes me” I start searching in my bag and pulling packs out “So… I have menthol, chocolate, reds and some rose and lavender that I roll myself” I wave the four packs in the air, his boxy grin gets a little bigger, which makes me add “I may have some vapes inside as well if you want me to search for them…”

He lets out a little laugh waving his hands “No, no, if you sell me a pair of menthol ones I would be eternally grateful.” I hand him the pack.

“You can keep the pack, is there anything else I can do for you Mr. Kim?”

“Oh, how much do I owe you?”

“Nothing, don’t even worry. I have more and I should seriously stop smoking” I give him a huge smile “If that is all Mr. Kim, have a goodnight.” I bow, closing the door and start heading towards the elevators

“Actually…” his voice stops me “are you going out?” I turn, he is scratching his head again with the mischievous grin.

“Yup, I was heading to grab a smoke and an ice cream from my favorite place in the city” His eyes grow a little bigger getting a cute little spark in them “Do… you… wanna… come?” His answer is an enthusiastic nod accompanied with a huge boxy grin “Great. Do you have to go grab a cap, a mask?” He nods again, making me laugh a little “I will see you in the lobby in five?” He nods a third time and sprints to what I assume is his room.

I’m waiting by the lobby door, my mind berating me for inviting my boss to come grab an ice-cream with me, there is no scenario where this is not a bad idea. Crap. My magic sits restless in my stomach, a product of my own anxiety. There is an endless list of why I should have kept my mouth shut, starting with the fact that absolutely no one within the company, and specially not my seven bosses, knew anything about the Witching World or the danger they may face, if certain people where to see them near me outside of a professional environment. That’s exactly why I had accepted the job on my terms of being a ‘back of house’ stylist, which basically consisted in helping with the conceptualization of looks and dealing with international brands to get the pieces for the outfits we needed which meant I had little to no interaction with the boys whatsoever.

I seriously can’t believe how my mouth had betrayed me that way. My magic was becoming more and more restless in the pit of my stomach, when the feeling of a light tap tap on my shoulder pulls me out of my thoughts, making me turn around to find a tall slim guy dressed in jeans and a knit cream sweater with a black mask and black beret hat over his brown fluffy curls. His attempt to hide is identity was cute and mostly useless considering how their fans could recognize them from the tip of their ears, to avoid any uncomfortable situation I cast a quick spell to actually hide who he was, it may not work for magical being but there was no way the regular human eye would recognize him tonight.

“Okay, I’m ready to go. Let me follow you to the magical ice-cream place you where talking about” He began bouncing on the ball of his feet and it was easy to tell he was smiling with anticipation bellow his mask.

We walk out of the hotel to the fresh night air of early March. For the first time in a couple of days I take a deep breath filling my lungs, my magic steading a bit more at the sight of the Arno river, water always helped with grounding. Right in front of us we had the view of Florence’s lights dancing in the water, an instant pang of nostalgia struck my chest, I missed this city so much, I missed the cobblestone streets, the smell of fresh espresso in the mornings and fresh baked pastries at night, the sweetness of drinking in the afternoon a glass of wine with a delicious pizza, the weekend trips all over Tuscany, the buzz of ancient magic that flows trough the city… a loud “whoa” pulled me out of my thoughts.

“It’s gorgeous right?” I can’t help but ask. Taehyung nods enthusiastically. “Let’s go. We have to cross to the other side of the river” We start walking, both of us pulling our cigarettes “Shit, forgot I lost my lighter. By any chance you have one Mr. Kim?” His melodic laugh startles me a little.

“I have one and I will only lend it to you if you stop calling me Mr. Kim, call me Taehyung-ssi or Tae if you are feeling bold but please I’m begging” he trows his hands in the air very dramatically “I’M BEGGING, stop the formality” His drama was hilarious, actually making me laugh.

“Fine, fine, can you please lend me your lighter? It’s been such a long day and I really need a cigarette.” He smiles, lights my cigarette and proceeds to light his. The heavenly feel of the first drag, the way the smoke caresses my throat feels just right, I let out a deep breathe and my sight becomes clouded with smoke and just for a moment I feel steady and calm.

We walk in silence, enjoying our cigarettes, the murmur of the city, the flow of the river. We start crossing the Carraia Bridge and when we reach the middle Taehyung stops and leans into the old stone taking in the view of city.

“You know? Its my first time in the city, and I have walked like… one street and half a bridge but it kinda feels magical” His deep voice matches the Florence night vibe down to a T.

“It does, doesn’t it?” Little did he knew, how right he was, this was a city filled with ancient magic. He answers with a soft ‘mhm’.

We continue walking until we reach Sbrinos, a small ice-cream shop that makes hand made gelato and every day offers a variety of different flavors, it’s widely popular and it might have something to do with the fact that the owner infuses a little bit of magic when he churns the gelatos, taking advantage of the ingredient’s properties. Dante was one of the best herbalists healers in the witching world. We go inside the tiny gelateria, the insides are beautiful, the stone walls covered in vines and local artists paints.

I spot the huge man behind the counter serving a young boy, his broad shoulders hunched while he serves the gelato. Dante may be a 6’2” giant, with a muscular broad body but in reality his bearded face, tatted arms and piercing glance where just the facade of a big ass teddybear, the fact that he extended his magical abilities towards his hobby of making gelato was a testament to his soft personality. When he feels the two new presences his heads lifts and a loud booming voice is calling my name.

“Seph! Bellissima, come stai? Mi mancano tuoi visite di mezzanotte amore” I can’t help but laugh at my best-friend’s stupid antiques, of course he misses my midnight visits, we would gossip about all the Italian fuck boys we encountered, and Dante was the worst busybody in the whole Tuscany region.

“Dante, I missed you too! How have you been? How is Stephan?” He hands the ice-cream to the little boy and walks around the counter to embrace me in a huge bear hug.

“I have been doing good Amore, business is doing great and Stephan is been amazing, he took me on a surprise trip to Venice last week, one of the must romantic weekends of my life.” He is grinning from ear to ear “But how about you principessa? You are always so busy with work and you haven’t come to visit in six months, you know Mrs. Rossi is gonna throw a pot in your head when she sees you right? She is pissed, keeps saying you have to take a break.” I cringe at that. I was planning to surprise Mrs. Rossi with breakfast tomorrow, I know the 90 year old seer thinks I’m overworking myself, because she tells me so every time I call, and I know she will berate me to dead when she sees how much weight I have lost in the last months. Dante must notice my pout because he lets out a loud laugh and hugs me again. “So are you here for pleasure Amore?” I can’t help but laugh again.

“I wish. Actually, I’m working but it’s good because it’s a light schedule and I get to spend the next three weeks and a half here, which makes me extremely happy.” We came to Florence because the boys where shooting some concept photos for some projects taking advantage of the fact that they had a big photo shoot and the recording of a fashion film as brand ambassadors for an up and coming brand. My job was technically easy this weeks because we planned this concepts for months, we had the looks ready to go and for the brand shooting they where the ones bringing the pieces, I just had to coordinate the sizes, styles and preferences for each boy with the brand beforehand which meant I just had to show up and make sure everything ran smoothly in the set. “Let’s say it’s almost like vacations”

Dante tsks and flicks my nose

“Don’t talk anymore Amore! You are breaking my heart, have I taught you nothing? Work hard but don’t forget to enjoy life.” Just then he remembers I’m not alone and I realize we have been talking in Italian all the time, which seems like a rude thing to do to your boss. What is worse is how Dante is eating alive Taehyung, making him squirm under his gaze which makes me punch his arm, hard, making him wince. “I’m sorry we have been so rude, I’m Dante. Are you one of Seph’s boyfriends? Do I need to threaten you?” This earns him another punch on this arm.

“DANTE!! WHAT THE FUCK?!” I shriek, but Taehyung only laughs and crosses his arms signaling a no, with the very Korean gesture.

“No, actually I am one of her…” He pauses considering what to say. “coworkers. My name is Taehyung” he bows and extends his army in greeting “but I am curious to hear all about her boyfriends, I’m always down for some good gossip.” I narrow my eyes towards Dante and the bastard just laughs and pats Taehyung on the back.

“Oh, Mr. the amount of stories I have of this girl are unbelievable, you know this once…”

“Don’t you dare Dante! I just properly met Taehyung today, don’t make me never bring anyone again.” I point at him “He just tagged along for the amazing ice-cream I promised.” Dante just shrugged it off.

“Maybe next time she brings you pretty boy, I will be allowed to talk.” He winks and makes Taehyung laugh again. “So today we have your favorite red wine gelato” Dante begins pointing at me and then turning to look at Taehyung. “Which I totally recommend if you want that fuzzy feeling of infatuation and adoration pretty boy or if you want something more creamy to make your night sweeter and comforting you should try the caramello al sale or if what you are looking for is pure euphoria then you have to get a baccio della casa e buonissimo” He starts serving the wine gelato “So what can I get for you pretty boy? What do you crave?” Taehyung looks at me as if looking for an answer and then back at Dante.

“I will get the caramel one… please?” He gives Dante his typical boxy grin which I know is melting Dante in the insides, because he throws me a look that says it all. he has always had a soft ass spot for pretty boys and my boss had the one of the prettiest faces in the world only rivaled by his bandmates faces. When Taehyung turns to check some decoration inside the parlor, Dante mouths “You brought a literal god to my shop without warning me! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?” That made me wince, I knew my bosses where handsome I wasn’t stupid, but I tried not to think about it, because what would be the point of doing my job more difficult than it already is? So I just tend to ignore their looks. Dante will never let me hear the end of this once we are alone.

He hands us our ice-creams and both me and Taehyung reach out to pay, which leads to a bunch of things happening at once, the first being an incredulously offended face from my boss, he started spewing something in Korean that completely passes over my head because at the same time I got a huge Italian man talking and gesturing at light speed.

“Stop, stop, stop, please! I think my brain just short circuited, I understood absolutely nothing from what you just said and somehow I still feel like a two year old getting scolded”

“Yaah! Of course you are getting scolded, you brought me here, the least I can do is buy you an ice-cream” my boss pouts.

“And while I would normally agree with pretty boy over here, the ice-cream is on the house Amore. You should know this!” Dante crossed his arms and this makes Taehyung grin like an idiot.

“Seph-ssi, I really like your ice-cream maker friend, can I keep him?” I gape at him, its Dante’s turn to laugh and pat my boss on the back. This wasn’t good.

“We are having dinner tomorrow Seph, and before you say that you are too busy for that, I don’t care about any excuse you might pull out of your ass, you are coming to dinner tomorrow. Stephan is gonna die when I tell him you are here for a few weeks.” He then turns to Taehyung “You are invited to pretty boy. My boyfriend is one of the best chefs in the city so, don’t eat much during the day” He really didn’t have to tell him that, these boys had the worst reputation of not taking care of themselves properly “And if this crazy bitch doesn’t want to take you, call me.” My boss chocked at his words but Dante didn’t notice or didn’t care, he just handed him his business hard which made me roll my eyes. This really wasn’t good.

We say our goodbyes and leave. Once we start walking with our ice-creams in hand I can’t help but open my mouth.

“I’m so sorry Mr. Kim, I know Dante is a little bit much but he means well. Sorry that you had to pass as a coworker, If I had known he was working today I would have never brought you, normally he rests on Mondays. I’m so so sorry.” His chuckle takes me by surprise, I wasn’t expecting him to be ok about it.

“Hey, first of all you called me Mr. Kim again, that’s unforgivable. Now you have to take me to your dinner tomorrow, that’s gonna be your punishment.” He winks at me and I’m sure I’m gapping now. “Second I absolutely loved Dante I wasn’t kidding when I said I wanted to keep him and lastly this is the BEST ice-cream I’ve ever tried! I would go trough actual hell flames just to get more of this” This makes me snicker “I have to bring Jiminnie and Kookie and Jinnie. Hell… I have to bring all of them here, they are gonna pass out!” His boxy grin couldn’t be bigger by now. “So… I don’t mean to pry but, are you Italian? Did you grew up here? I was truly surprised when both of you started speaking in Italian, sounded really beautiful.” His voice full of curiosity.

“I took a semester off during college, came here to learn Italian, art history, some fashion” and witchcraft, but I keep that tad bit to myself “ate like crazy, traveled all over Tuscany and met some amazing people along the way.” He just nods.

“That’s how you met Dante?”

“Mhm, I used to live right by where we are staying. You know the church that is in front of the St. Regis? It’s called Chiesa di Ognissanti, my apartment was right beside it, one day my roommate and I were craving ice-cream late at night, we googled a place near by and Dante doesn’t close until midnight, the rest is history.” The fact that he was also a witch was just a lucky coincidence. He nods again, checks his phone and places it back in his pocket.

“Taking advantage of the fact that you lived here, and that you owe me for calling me Mr. Kim, can you recommend a place where we can have an amazing dinner, that is not a tourist trap?” He is giving me the biggest puppy eyes I have ever seen. “Jiminie is spamming me about dinner, apparently he is hungry.”

“Sure, there is this tiny family owned osteria, really close to the hotel. They do the best handmade pasta in town. I don’t know the address but I can walk you and you can send him the location.”

“That be great, Thank you so much Seph-sii!” His Boxy grin was back.

We were waiting by the restaurant, smoking yet another cigarette when a melodic voice boomed in the empty cobblestone street.

“KIM TAEHYUNG YOU HAVE TO STOP THAT DISGUSTING HABBIT OF YOURS!” I turned tomato color and actually choked like a fucking amateur trying a cigarette for the first time. “AND ARE YOU ROPING POOR INNOCENT GIRLS INTO THAT?!” Now you just wanted the earth to open up and swallow me whole.

“Yaah! What’s wrong with you Jimin-ah?!” Taehyung pointed at me and continued “Look what you did! You just embarrassed one of your stylists! If she decided to dress you in feathers and sequins for the shoot, I’m just gonna laugh at your face because you deserve it!” He was pouting while shouting at his best friend and soulmate. Park Jimin, an adorable men, with an angelic face half hidden in a huge scarf, framed by pink wavy locks under a beanie, turns to look at me, I was ready to die, so I did the only thing that seemed logical on my panic and bowed.

“Mr. Park, I’m deeply sorry, when I gave Mr. Kim the cigarette, I didn’t taught it would be a problem! He didn’t rope me into anything I swear, I have been smoking since I was eighteen, nothing to do with Mr. Kim. He was just keeping me company while I smoked.” I could swear I heard Taehyung groan, I knew I was rambling but I couldn’t stop myself “I’m Seph part of your team of stylists and I would never dress you like a psychedelic chick I swear!” The psychedelic chick must have sounded funny because next thing I know is that my pink haired boss is a little ball on the floor laughing his ass off. I could hear Taehyung snickering behind me and just then my brain registered a third laugh coming from the most adorable bunny face ever, the youngest of the bandmates, Jeon Jungkook was holding his muscly body against the wall trying not to fall into hystericals besides Park Jimin. He was the one to gain enough composure to make a really tempting offer.

“If you dress him like a psychedelic chick, I will make sure you get the biggest bonus ever” He manages to say between laughter “please, please, stylist-nim”

“Kookie, don’t tempt her please.” Jimin said while standing “I’m sorry, that was so rude of me. I’m Park Jimin and I know my asshole soulmate tends to be a bad influence, I shouldn’t have assumed. Please don’t listen to Kookie and don’t dress me like a psychedelic chick.” Taehyung snickered again at his friend comment.

“I won’t, you don’t have to worry Mr. Park.” I gave the three of them a polite smile and bowed “I will get going now. Mr. Park, Mr. Kim, Mr. Jeon I hope you enjoy your evening”

“Aish! Seriously why am I still Mr. Kim?” His voice was reflecting the pout his lips where forming “And what are you talking about, what is this about leaving? You are having dinner with us, its the least I can do since you showed me the best ice-cream in the city!”

“What? You went for ice-cream? Without me?” Now the bunny was the one pouting. The cuteness overload. “Hyuuung that is so mean” he continued whining, making Jimin slap the back of Taehyung’s head, making him wince.

“Yah! Kookie is right! So mean Tae!” If Jimin starts pouting I swear to the gods…

“Thank you, for the offer Mr. Kim but I wouldn’t like to intrude” He groaned.

“Seph-ssi, stop with the formalities, besides it’s not up for discussion, you are having dinner with us. You can add it to your job description for the day.” Taehyung gave me an evil smirk, leaving me with absolutely no argument, accepting with a nod, that made him grin.

The little restaurant was not to busy but the nice hostess lady gave us a table in a room that was completely empty for the privacy of the boys.

We were looking at the menu, the boys where discussing what to order when the waiter arrived and asked us if we wanted anything to drink, this made three pair of eyes turn to me, expectantly. Taehyung was the one to speak.

“Seph-ssi why don’t you order for us? You are the one that knows the place and besides we are not really picky when it comes to Italian food” He batted his eyelashes at me, I don’t think I will survive the night if they keep this up, then turned to Jimin. “besides you have to hear her speak Italian, she has the cutest accent ever!” It was loud enough that me and Jungkook heard his alleged whisper across the table, making me turn pink and Jungkook snicker. With a deep breath, I ordered a bottle of wine and several different plates so they could have different options to try. Once the waiter left, the three of them were completely silent, Jungkook was watching me with his doe eyes, Taehyung was grinning knowingly and Jimin was smirking. Jungkook was the one to break the silence.

“Are you Italian?” His tone was dripping with curiosity, like it had millions of questions and this one just scaped. Before I could answer, Taehyung beat me to it.

“Nope, she took a semester off in college and came to have her eat, pray, love era, how cool is that?” The other two boys let out a low ‘whoa’ this just peaked Jungkook’s curiosity even further.

“I had no idea you were a stylist, I mean you are always around and I remember you asking some questions about some clothes, but you never do what the other stylists noonas do. I just assumed you where part of the marketing team or something like that.” Jimin nodding along his words.

“I’m more in charge of the concept behind outfits and with dealing with international brands to get specific pieces to create the looks.” The three boys looked confused but it was Jimin who voiced his question.

“Thats actually the first time I hear that a stylist is in not involved in the whole process. Are you part of like a different team of stylists?” Before I could answer the waiter came with all our food, they tried the plates and moaned in agreement, Jungkook looked a little pissed at how good the food was, furrowing his brows while he continued eating just pausing to look at me expectantly.

“I’m the only one. When I accepted the job offer, my only request was that I would be exclusively involved in the preproduction part of the styling.”

“Why Seph-ssi?” Jungkook tilted his head.

“Well, maybe I should shut up before I lose my job” A nervous laugh scapes, but I can’t seem to actually shut up "I declined when the company first sent the request, but apparently one of you guys had seen some of my work and were pretty adamant about hiring me as your stylist, so the company pushed, made it pretty hard to say no.” Jimin starts choking on his pappardelle, Taehyung automatically patting his back until he calmed down. He took a swig of wine and spoke.

“You are the fashion designer Yoongi-hyung couldn’t stop talking about! You do a lot of experimental design, don’t you?” He was grinning now “I truly believed they couldn’t get you, I knew Yoongi put in the request but he didn’t say anything afterwards and when we didn’t get an evident new member in the stylist team I just assumed… but I should have known something had changed when the clothing started to be a little edgier”

“Does Yoongi-hyung know that you are working for us Seph-ssi?” Taehyung inquired.

“I’m not sure. But my bet is that Mr. Min knows because, one day during my first week a huge arrangement of flowers appeared on my studio, the note wasn’t signed it just said ‘thank you for accepting, means a lot to me’. Never had a clue which one of you was until now.” A soft smile grazes my lips remembering the sweet gesture.

“He is gonna flip when he finds out we had dinner with you. He tends to be a little… possessive” Jungkook sneers, making Taehyung reach over the table to flick his head

“Yaah! Are you trying to scare her? Don’t listen to him, fell as a child, now he is missing must of his grey matter. Please forgive him.” I hold in my laugh.

The dinner continued with a light atmosphere and by the time we finished all our plates and ordered desert, we could just roll back to the hotel after everything we ate.

The walk back to the hotel was quick. The night was getting colder, the light chill of the wind through my clothes made me sigh in contempt, this gained the attention of Jimin who tilted his head in curiosity but said nothing. When we arrived at the hotel we hopped into the elevator.

“We are gonna play video games in Tae’s and Jiminnie's room, do you wanna come?”

“Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Jung but I think I’m going to head to bed, I’m having breakfast really early in the morning and it’s been a long day” I politely declined, and just in time the elevator dinged indicating it had stopped at my floor, I bowed and wished them goodnight. I couldn’t stop smiling, it had been such a nice night, I just hoped this wouldn’t complicate my job or bring any unnecessary danger towards the boys.

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

I was standing outside Mrs. Rossi house, the lavenders she had planted besides her doorstep looked like they where stuck in eternal spring, their color was vibrant, a lot of flowers were either growing or fully grown, the smell so intoxicating, making it easy to get lost in it. This reminded me of home and the lavenders by my bedroom window.

The basket with basket with fresh pastries and some fruit hanged from my arm. I hesitated for a moment before knocking at the door because Mrs. Rossi would make a scene when she sees me, she has a tendency for the dramatic but I loved the old hag. I knocked and almost instantly a shout letting me know someone was coming came from the inside. The door opened and Dorothea, the 12 year old granddaughter of Mrs. Rossi greeted me with a polite smile and a tight hug, as she let me go a petite old woman with a slim frame, soft lilac curly hair that hanged right above her shoulders was pushing Dorothea out of the way and was ready to claim her hug. Nera Rossi was a one of the most gorgeous women I knew, she used to be a model back in the day and she still looked like one in her nineties, her face looked like it was sculpted to be a doll, delicate and perfect, with enough fire in her green eyes to burn entire villages in one look.

“Beat it squirt, Seph is mine all morning!” Mrs. Rossi told her as she came to hold me.

“But Nonna! This is so unfair!”

“Life is unfair Thea, so shoo!” Dorothea stuck her tongue out to her grandma and started walking away. It was useless to fight Nera, she was stubborn as a goat. When my mother sent me to Florence to hide, my grandma contacted one of her oldest friends, asking her to be my teacher. Nera specialized in shadow work, our lessons tended to be intense and explosive. We were both incredibly headstrong, causing endless arguments between us but in the end her stubbornness is what truly made me understand how to unleash my powers.

“Bye Seph, come see me some time soon, yes?” Grinning I nodded towards her.

“Come, come child, let's sit in the kitchen. I will make coffee and give you something to eat. You look so skinny. I saw you where coming so I picked your favorites, I was wondering how long it was gonna take you to you grab your big girl panties and come see me. I’m glad it wasn’t long.” We settle in her vintage sage kitchen table and I can’t help but admire Nera’s kitchen, you could tell that the place has seen and enjoyed countless memories, filled with love and affection. The cabinets were all the same shade of sage but they didn’t look perfect, there were tiny scratches here and there, a testament of how lived this kitchen was. While the style was typical Italian, you could still see Mrs. Rossi in the details, the bases with flowers everywhere, the countless spice racks placed randomly, the herbs hanging to dry in weird places, the cute and funny kitchen cloths… This kitchen felt like home and I appreciated the comfort I so desperately needed.

“My child have you not been eating?” She caressed my cheek “You keep loosing weight every time I see you. It’s troublesome to say the least. I worry”

“Don’t worry Ne, I swear I have been eating” This was a blatant lie, with the crazy work hours I’ve been putting I barely had time to eat. “I just have been doing a lot of exercise” Nera Rossi was no fool, i knew she could see right through me, with her being a seer and all, it was hard to get away with anything, but she just chuckles and lets it pass. She places a cup of coffee and a plate full of food in front of me.

“Now eat my dear child, so you can tell me all about your exciting life working for worldwide celebrities.” The grin that paints my face is full of joy. I start digging into my delicious breakfast while I hear all about Mrs. Rossi’s brand new hydroponic strawberry garden, which lead her to adopt a baby raccoon that was stealing her strawberries, so now she had a new garden and a new baby pet raccoon called Cuddles that was currently being babysat by Stephan because apparently Cuddles loved cuddling, catch the irony here, under the morning sun rays by the bay windows at Stephan’s restaurant, Delicia. A spot he had discovered one day Nera and Dante has breakfast together, apparently he would make a fuss if Nera didn’t take him in the mornings and it had become such a sensation having Cuddles at the restaurant. Stephan agreed to come to pick him up the days Nera didn’t stop by and brought him back by luck when the sun no longer hits Cuddles favorite spot. To say that I was excited to meet the baby raccoon was an understatement. I finished eating, knowing we couldn’t postpone the big talk any longer.

“So baby girl, tell me all about your boys now”

“Neeeeeee” Dragging the e’s in the most dramatic way possible “You know they are not mine, I have barely spoken three words to any of them.” I glare daggers at her and she just waves me off. “The work is good. Tough and long somedays but truly rewarding when I get to see how the pictures turn out, or how empowered they look in the outfits we put together for them.” Taking a deep breathe I continue. “You know how much this all means to me, but I don’t know Ne. I feel like throwing myself at work it’s… not working anymore.” I let my head fall in my hands. Clouds start to form in the kitchen ceiling, starting to rumble with little thunders. “I keep working more and more hours, asking for extra shifts, covering for coworkers, making all the extra trips, but my head still finds time to play tricks on me and I’m afraid of slipping into old habits Ne…” She pulls my face out of hiding and her soft hand started caressing my cheek with nothing but love, her tender strokes feel like she is handling crystal and could brake easily, she sighted.

“Could you stop the almost storm inside my kitchen? I would hate to have to deal with humidity in my ceiling.” Her comment instantly made the room feel lighter, my clouds beginning to dissipate. “Baby girl, you knew that throwing yourself at work was just a temporary solution for a much more bigger problem” her eyes where so comforting, so soft, so full of love and they just turned softer when tears started to paint my cheeks “Yes child, what you need is a good crying, you don’t have to be strong all the time”

“I don’t know what to do Ne, I really taught this was it… that this job would be what erased my past” my voice cracked “I don’t know how long I can keep running.”

“Baby girl, thats where you are wrong, you can’t erase your past and you can’t run for ever, it will come a day when you have to confront your demons.” her fingers kept wiping my tears “But remember that you wont be alone trough this fight, there are a lot of people that will be with you when you are ready to take on it. But until that moment comes, please top weakening yourself, try to find a balance and maybe open up to other people, you can be surprised with what you find.” She gives me a knowing smile that made me believe that she saw something coming but wasn’t telling me.“And by the love of the Gods child, eat. If you keep losing weight you will leave me no option but to follow you to Seoul and force feed you or to call your grandma, and I wouldn’t put it past her to crawl out of your cauldron once she hears her little princess is not eating, and then you would have two old hags to deal with in your tiny apartment.” Her sudden outburst makes me laugh between my tears.

“Now, tell me all about what you are doing the next weeks. I bet you are dying to talk about it.” With that, the heavy conversation ended and we fell into the topic that excited me down to the last detail.

I had to leave before lunch to pick up some accessories for tomorrows photoshoot. We were saying our goodbyes at the door, Nera gave me a tight hug.

“I know you are here for a few weeks, so if you don’t come visit often I will haunt you down girl.” I chuckled and nodded

“I’m having diner with Dante and Stephan tonight, want to come? I bet they would love to have you over Ne.”

‘No, no baby girl. You youngling have fun tonight” she winked at me “Besides, Stephan said your boys are going and like hell I’m gonna meet them before I can threaten them.” I groan.

“Ne, this “my boys” thing is getting annoying and of course my bosses are not going! Mister Kim just said that to be polite.”

“You have to let Him go at some point Seph.” She murmured “Anyway, shoo girl, you have places to be and so do I.” She started to push me away to get me out of the house and I could swear I heard her say under her breath something along the lines of Mister Kim my ass before she closed the door.

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

The afternoon went in a blur between picking up the missing accessories and finishing some touches in the outfits. I was going over some paperwork for the brand shoot when my cellphone rang.

“Dante, you little bitch I swear if you call me one more time to hurry me, I will curse your ass six days from Sunday!”

“Sorry for interrupting Seph-ssi” The deep timber of the voice on the other side from the phone, startled me automatically making me cringe, crap, crap, crap. “The manager gave me your number, I just wanted to know if you wanted to walk together tonight.” It took me a moment to realize he was talking about dinner at Dante’s.

“Thank you Mr. Kim but don’t worry that won’t be necessary. Dante was just being polite, you don’t have to go tonight.” The light chuckle let me know he was going no matter what I said, before he even voiced it.

“He said you would say that. See you in the lobby, we will be there in a few minutes and then we can head out.” Taehyung didn’t even give me a minute to answer, he just hanged up the phone. shit. I was going to kill Dante, what the fuck is wrong with him? When he called me earlier I had informed him that Taehyung was my boss and how it was a terrible idea for him to have dinner with us. He was so dead. A groan forms in my throat, I had the feeling that the next few weeks were gonna be interesting, thanks to my asshole friend.

The elevator pings to the lobby. Dreading what my night had in store, I step out of the dangly metal coffin. Taehyung is standing right by the elevators looking dashing in black slacks topped with a gorgeous oversized camel wool coat, his dark hair looked messy as if someone had been running their fingers trough his locks. Damn it! I shouldn’t be noticing how he looks outside of the outfits I put together for him. When he spots me he flashes a boxy grin, tilting his head, expectantly.

“Come on Seph-ssi. We are gonna be late! Dante said to be there at eight and it’s eight o’five”

“Don’t worry Mr. Kim, Italians are not that into punctuality. Dante won’t mind one bit. But if you don’t want to come, you can always stay and rest, you do know tomorrow night you have a big shoot, right?” He presses his lips together, shakes his head while he turns and starts walking towards the door. What I didn’t expect was the two figures that rose from the couches, just like Taehyung, my other two bosses looked ridiculously good.

Jimin was wearing skinny jeans, his black leather racer jacket was open showing a pink sweater that looked so fluffy (I really wanted to touch it), his blond hair was in a similar state as Taehyung’s: messy. His pink plump lips held the biggest smile making his eyes look like little crescent moons, a beautiful sight, specially paired with the bunny smile Jungkook was sporting, his outfit screamed comfort, oversized black cargo pants with an oversized black hoodie and a black beanie covering most of his fluffy black hair.

With a quick bow I greeted both of them. Taehyung must have caught the surprise in my face because he quickly added “Dante said it was okay if they tagged along, said something about meeting ‘this boys Ne keeps talking about’. Which I have no idea what he means but he did say his boyfriend is a great chef so…”

My hands balled into fists, my jaw locked and I could feel shadow starting to crawl the walls ready to consume the whole room if needed be. I need to calm down. Taking a deep breath, the rumble of my magic starts to ease, the shadows instantly disappearing. Through clench teeth I manage to utter “Sure, let’s go.”

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