#the first drawing took more than an hour beginning to end

[brabblesblog]

𝕽𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖞𝖊 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘.

Ch 14: He looked at me like I was the stars when all I’d ever felt like was the dark nothingness between them.

A sequel to Whither is thy beloved gone? (AO3)

After the events of ‘Whither is thy beloved gone?’ Lord Astarion Ancuńin and his consort wife navigate their relationship anew. The ghosts of the past - his, hers, and theirs - threaten to unravel everything they’ve worked for.

The reception is in full swing.

Professionally edited and collaborated on by my dearest friend <3 @editing-by-night

Read on AO3.

Masterlist

Art by @lirotation

They were in the gardens, holding a pose, the artist furiously sketching. Ban exhaled, resisting the urge to drop her shoulders and slouch. Beside her Astarion held still effortlessly.

“Can we-” she called to the artist. “Oskar. Can we please end this for the day? It’s our fifth piece from you. I’m sure you already know what we look like by now.”

“But, to strive for perfection!” Oskar threw his hands up in the air. “You cannot possibly-”

Astarion broke his pose, wrapping a hand around her wrist before striding away. “You can, Oskar. I’m sure an artist of your caliber can fill the blanks in with their formidable imagination.”

Before Oskar could respond, he had already led Ban away.

That was the last portrait for the day; they had spent the past two hours posing for various artists to put down preliminary sketches.

Astarion felt Ban lean against him and press her temple against his shoulder. “Another quick change,” she grumbled, “and then onto the reception.”

“Remind me. Which dress are you changing into?”

She frowned, thinking. “The same as the first. I have one less than you do.”

They arrived at the bedroom, making sure not to pass by the ballroom where the guests had been mingling. The ensembles had been moved there ahead of them and Ban flopped onto the bed, closing her eyes. Not even their most lengthy ball had come close to the amount of preparation or the duration of this wedding, and she privately wished they had merely eloped.

“I cannot wait for this to be over.”

He smirked, the sight of her sprawled on the bed both endearing and arousing, and his fingers flew over the clasps on his suit. He undid it enough to bare his chest, then crawled on top of her, straddling her hips.

“Because you’re exhausted, darling? A pity. I had all sorts of plans for tonight.” He smirked as she opened her eyes to glare at him.

“I’m sure some blood will perk me up.” Ban waved a hand dismissively.

Astarion took her words to heart, eagerly arching his neck in invitation. She ran gentle fingers down his neck, tracing his old scars, and he shivered.

“Your restraint finally failing you?” The soft touch of her fingers, her thumb caressing his Adam’s apple, the sheer nearness of her body under his - so godsdamned close… as much as he wanted to wait until tonight to break his fast, his head nodded of its own volition.

He leaned down, her hand wrapping around the back of his neck - a position reminiscent of the first night he’d bitten her, he thought with some amusement - and she bit down, fangs sinking into him with that familiar cold, sharp bite. Astarion didn’t fight it, hips pressing against her and rolling with a deliberate, delicious slowness, savoring the friction of his cock dragging across her mound.

“Perhaps,” he drawled. “You’d best be certain not to spill this time, Ban. You do not want these clothes- oh.”

She had licked up the wounds, and had kissed her way to his ear, licking around its edges. His body jerked, the thrust of his hips no longer quite controlled.

“You minx,” he growled, although there was little bite in it. “I never agreed to anything more than biting.”

“Mm.” Another long, slow pass of her tongue, drawing out a whine from him. “And yet you have not pulled away.”

He felt her hands beginning to roam his chest, stroking the hard planes of muscle. His heart raced at the contact and he bit his lip.

“Ban. Lower.”

“As you wish, my lord,” she purred playfully, sensually, drifting her hand over taut abdominal muscles before palming his erection.

He bucked, helpless against the need that filled him. Too long. Far too long. He reached between them to tug down his trousers, revealing the head of his cock. He gasped and his eyes shut as he felt Ban trace the slit gently, collecting his precum.

“I said my vows today,” she whispered against his ear, her hand sliding into his trousers and wrapping around his length, “but there are more. More things to tell you, things I wish I’d told you long ago.” She caressed his cheek, in time with a long, slow stroke, and he whined.

More. Was this her rising to the challenge he’d given her last night? Either way, he found himself entirely at her mercy. Whatever words were soon to fall from her lips, they were words he would die to hear, words he felt would heal every single ache he had ever endured. She pulled at his waistband, freeing his length before taking him in her grasp once more; the tightness and feel of her hand around his cock caused a long twitch. His lips parted, only one word on them - a prayer.

“Please.”

She kissed his forehead, a soft press of lips so achingly tender, a perfect contrast to the firm strokes of his cock. He rolled his hips, palms flat on the bed on either side of her, eyes squeezed shut.

“You…” she began, “are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes upon. I remember it as if it were yesterday - the scent of the sea, the rustling of the trees - and you, hair shining in the midday sun, asking for help. Gorgeous. Ethereal. Perfect.” The last words were breathed against his ear, and he leaned down further, as far as he could go, wanting to hear every last syllable.

He could see it in his mind’s eye, her body pressed against his, his dagger inches away from her throat. The sun, beating down on him. Her in camp. The clearing. She dragged her hand slowly, the pressure on his cock divine, and he grunted.

She cupped his cheek, tracing the sharp lines with her thumb. “But there was more to you than just looks. Your voice, your humor, your heart,” and she tutted as he scoffed, placing her palm flat against his chest, “everything. You. I loved you even before I understood what that meant. I wanted to keep you safe. I wanted you to be happy.”

He savored all her words, panting as he listened, his ass clenching as the thrust into her hand. He reached down, running his fingers along the delicate curve of her wrist, a silent plea for her to keep going. "You're incredible, you know that?"

“Shush. We’re talking about you, Astarion.”

His name, purred from her lips, spurred him on.

The delicious feel of her palm stroking him, the memories - of then and today, watching her walk down the aisle towards him, to him.

His hips bucked faster, mindlessly rutting against her strokes, soft pants the only sound he was able to make. He was close, he knew; he’d need very little more - a few more swipes across his tip, a caress at the sensitive bottom of his cockhead and he’d be done-

No. Not yet. He gently pulled at her hand, a quick, soft tug that she didn’t even seem to notice. Her strokes increased in speed, sensing he was close and wanting to push him over.

He swallowed hard, the rush of thoughts suddenly feeling like they were drowning him. The nights under the tent, his fingers and tongue deep inside her, those final nights when she’d finally touched him again, just like this, but also every single day since they’d found their way back to one another - soft gazes, breathless moans in the night, his name, whispered from her lips - something he would never tire of. Her in her wedding dress, nervously making her vows to him. The entire month spent longing for her, forcing himself to calm whenever he’d been overwhelmed with wanting, his cock so desperate for any friction that the slightest touch had him rock hard. Just a few more hours and his fast would be ended in exactly the way he’d hoped for all these weeks, all he had to do was hold out just a bit longer.

He gripped Ban’s wrist more tightly, but again she didn’t notice; he could feel himself teetering over the edge - one more stroke and he’d no doubt spill into her hand. His heart was racing, his breathing rapid, and he felt a little dizzy and he was so, so close and she still hadn’t stopped…

No. Not yet. Not until tonight. Not like this. Not when I’m overwhelmed. Not-

“Sussur!”

Immediately she let go, the edges of his orgasm fading as he leaned back and flexed his thighs to keep from spilling over the edge. Her hands cupped his face and she scanned his features, worry etched in hers.

“What happened? Did I do something wrong? I’m so sorry, please,” she said, the words tumbling out in a nervous rush.

He shook his head quickly, lowering himself to lay on top of her. The sensation of his still-sensitive cock pressing against her made him moan.

“No, my love. It just slipped out, you did nothing wrong. In fact,” he turned to meet her gaze, head nestled between her breasts, “you…”

He found the words stuck on his throat. He cleared it, and tried again. “I did not quite expect…”

“For me to stop? Of course I would.” She ran her fingers through his curls; he leaned into the touch. He’d have to re-style his hair before they left the room.

“I know.” He blinked back tears, surprised to even feel them welling up in the first place. “I knew you would,” he clarified, “but there was a small part of me that feared, in that split second after I said it…”

“That your wishes would not be honored,” Ban finished for him. Her hands slid down his back and held him tight.

He nodded. “That was the first thing that came to mind.” Too many memories flashed through his mind, of people who refused to heed his wishes, who’d laughed and-

He shook his head. He wouldn’t think of that today.

“T-thank you,” he whispered, nuzzling against her more firmly. He hated the waver in his voice, but there was nothing for it.

“Of course.” Her fingers traced the embroidery on his suit jacket. “Would you tell me what went wrong, love?”

“Nothing, really. I wanted to save it for tonight.” He smiled at her, a little uncertain. “I did not want it right now, in between all these proceedings. Hurried. I was extremely close but you seemed to think my attempts to stop you were encouragement, and I began to feel a bit… anxious.”

Ban considered this. “I understand. I’m sorry, Astarion. I didn’t realize. You made me come earlier, and I thought I’d return the favor.” He could tell she knew there was more to it. “Was this all…” she waved a hand, “too much?”

“A little. But I wouldn’t consider it something bad, merely overwhelming, and definitely not how I wanted to break my fast.”

She frowned. “I’m so sor-”

He laughed, crawling up to kiss her. “Don’t you dare apologize. It was wonderful, and I found myself too close far too soon.” He looked down at himself; the dull ache of his unsatisfied need made his cock throb painfully. He pulled away, rolled off of her and sat up. He tucked himself back in. “I’d very much love to continue hearing all those words of yours. Tonight.”

“Still think I’m not up to the challenge?” she asked, stretching on the bed.

He shook his head. “With a little more practice, you might hope to at least contend with me.”

She snorted and nudged him with her foot. “Hm. I doubt tha-”

He caught her ankle in his grasp, running his fingers on the underside of her foot, tickling her. She squealed, and he let her go, smirking. “See? You have a ways to go, Ban.”

She rolled her eyes and propped herself up on her elbows. “Fine.” One last stretch, and she sat up. “Let’s get changed. We have a long night ahead of us.”

He hummed in response, his thoughts focused entirely on what they would be doing after the reception.

Astarion sipped from his goblet as he watched two of his ghouls drag Volo away. Satisfied the party crasher had been dealt with, he scanned the rest of the room. There was Ban, in deep conversation with Jaheira, Minsc hovering with that rat on his shoulder. He hadn’t seen them in what felt like ages. Those two had departed soon after the Netherbrain had been defeated, with nary a goodbye - then again, no one had really bid him farewell, other than Gale.

He watched Karlach and Wyll depart for Avernus, watched Lae’zel fly off on her dragon. Stood there, side by side with Ban, who was bloodied and noticeably injured. He slipped an arm around her waist, and for once she did not shy away, leaning on him, too exhausted to even level a snide remark.

That night they had a small party to celebrate, Gale, Halsin, Shadowheart, Jaheira and Minsc were with them. They hardly paid him any mind, he may as well not even have come. He sulked at the furthest end of the table, face mostly buried in his cup. Conversation flowed over him, as it always had since the rite - at this point there was little point in listening or trying to participate.

He flicked his eyes over to her mug. Seeing it empty, he wordlessly picked it up and headed for the bar. When he came back, Jaheira and Minsc had already turned in for the night. Halsin and Shadowheart stood to leave without a word. Only Gale remained, and Ban, of course.

“I must head to bed as well,” Gale said, nodding to him as he approached. “I do hope we keep in contact.”

He stood silently as Gale wrapped his arms around Ban one last time then nodded at him - Astarion allowed himself the smallest of nods in response - and watched Gale retire to his room.

That night he whisked Ban away to the Crimson Palace.

So much has changed since then, he thought, staring at the bottom of his goblet. Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he looked over to see Minsc waving at him. He raised his hand awkwardly, waving back. He could see Jaheira, eyeing him with what looked like slight wariness. He waved to her as well.

Ban’s thoughts touched his. I told them everything. They like you better now.

Better? I was under the impression they did not like me at all. He put the goblet down on a passing server’s tray.

He felt her amusement through their bond. Jaheira liked you well enough to attempt to visit.

There was that. In the early days Jaheira had attempted to gain access to the Crimson Palace under the guise of delivering sweets and pastries for the lord of the house. Astarion had assumed it an attempt to curry his favor and spy on them at the same time, and he had always sent a servant to receive the gifts in his stead. Always outside the gates, never allowing her to take a single step onto the palace grounds. Ban had not corresponded with her much, if at all, which had been fine by him.

The pastries had always tasted good, at least.

She did bring a large batch over today, as a gift.

Do tell her I genuinely appreciate them, then, even if I didn’t appreciate her frankly blatant attempts to spy on us back then.

Astarion! Indignation, but still mostly mirth. He smiled as Ban turned towards him, eyebrows raised.

I merely jest. Tell them thank you for gracing us with their presence today. Seeing everyone under one roof again is most rewarding, especially now that we’re hosting it. He rolled his eyes, even though he knew she couldn’t see it.

He ended their link after one final snort from Ban, and continued surveying the guests.

There was the bard he’d hired to send messages to Gale when Ban had been taken - he’d proven to be surprisingly skilled, after all. He caught sight of Meiros with his wife, arm in arm, mingling with a crowd of artisans. He saw Lady Jannath and Oskar dancing and scoffed; the man sorely needed lessons.

A soft tap on his shoulder caught his attention. The twins stood before him, wearing identical dresses, one in green and one in blue. He bowed his head. “Enxisys. Miaxisys. A pleasure. I am glad you could join us tonight.”

“Your ceremony was in the sun, so we… decided to run a little late,” Miaxisys said, offering him her hand, which he took and pressed a soft kiss to.

“Apologies.” He turned to Enxisys, taking her hand and kissing it as well. “I trust you two have had a safe and uneventful journey otherwise? My wife and I would be more than happy to share our blood stores for the duration of your stay.”

Enxisys raked her eyes over him, a look that never failed to make him want to curl his lip and snap, but he merely offered a smile.

“We’ve had no trouble,” she said, eyes still fixed on his features, “but we shan’t stay long. We will be likely to ask for a bottle or two for the journey home, however, since I’m certain you wouldn’t be amenable to us helping ourselves to…” she glanced around, “...fresher sources.”

“We try not to create tension between us and the local government.” Astarion’s eyes flicked over to Ulder. “As such, we operate within the limits of what they might consider tolerable. Blood procured from our staff and other willing volunteers - with compensation, of course. A criminal or two, if I should desire something with a little more spice to it.” Ban never indulged in that, but he held out hope that she might consider it one day. Hunting with her would be most alluring. “If you would like one, I’m certain I can arrange something with Ulder.” He nodded over to the man.

“The Grand Duke himself.” Miaxisys shook her head. “We’ll settle for the bottles. We have more than enough volunteers at home.”

Enxisys simpered. “We hope to see you again soon, Lord Ancunín. Congratulations.”

“And thank you,” Miaxisys added under her breath.

Astarion watched them move away, hand in hand, beelining for Halsin. Allowing himself a moment of wry amusement, he observed them try and fail to capture Halsin’s attention.

“Entertained?” Ban’s voice whispered against his ear, wrapping her arm around him. He looked down at her, smiling, but before he could reply she fed him a piece of calamari from her plate. Delicious.

“Halsin,” he intoned, gesturing to the twins, “won’t be so easily swayed by vampires, I think. Even when they come in as pretty a package as those two.” He took her plate, placing it on a table. “A dance, my love?”

“Oh, you never know.” Ban nodded and took his hand, leading him to the dance floor. “Halsin isn’t usually opposed to a more casual arrangement.”

His expression darkened for a fraction of a second as he gripped her waist, a small grunt his only response. Immediately she placed a hand on his chest, smoothing down a crease in his one-shouldered cape.

“I know. What I did…it wasn’t the best thing, nor the right thing to do.” Her eyes flicked away, and he felt her tense in his arms. “Not for Halsin, or for Gale, but especially not for you.”

He was quiet for a few moments, then pressed his forehead against hers, exhaling roughly. “Halsin and I have made amends. The same is true with Gale, and more so between you and I.” He met her gaze. “There’s little need to bring old issues to the fore on a day like this.”

All the same, he reveled in the knowledge that she’d come to see the pain she had caused him. He twirled her in his arms, taking them further into the throng of people on the dance floor. The other dancers cleared away as they spun towards them. Astarion took care to not move too fast; she wasn’t the most graceful person, and he made sure that each step was carefully choreographed, occasionally whispering a quick left foot to her as they danced. It was ridiculous to think that they’d hosted countless parties and she’d yet to master the waltz, but that was Ban - for all her strength there was none of the dexterity.

As their dance came to an end, he drew closer, tracing his thumb over her lip, his mouth mere inches away from slotting against hers, when Ban turned around. He huffed, exasperated, then looked past her to see the illithid. It took a moment to recall his name - fleeting images of the dark and surprisingly beautiful myconid colony came to mind - until he locked onto it. Omeluum.

“I see the Society of Brilliance received our invitations and sent its best representatives. Omeluum. Blurg.” He nodded at each in turn; the hobgoblin’s name he remembered easily enough.

The illithid’s mind reached for his, the tendrils of thought very unlike Ban’s. He had to resist the urge to shy away, clenching his jaw. It had been more than a year since the tadpoles, after all.

Congratulations. The nuptials were wonderful. Omeluum scanned the ballroom; Astarion could not read anything on his expression. The tentacles lifted, hovering, a language he would never understand, nor did he want to.

“Thank you,” he said stiffly. Blurg stepped forward, pressing a tome into his hands. Before he could ask, Omeluum spoke.

The Society has heard about your… contract. Blurg and I thought you may wish to know more.

Astarion glanced at the cover. Infernal Pacts: A Guide. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Thank you again, but I do think my contract was completed most satisfactorily. That is enough for me.”

“What a lovely piece for our collection, regardless,” Ban offered, her voice conciliatory, taking the book gently. “Thank you, Omeluum. We greatly appreciate it. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll ensure this is properly stored.” As Ban headed off to place the book with their other gifts, Astarion shifted, a little awkward.

Blurg spoke up. “Are you a daywalker now, Astarion?” His hands hovered, as if he wished to poke and prod, no doubt curious about the Ascendant’s newfound powers. “I’m sure the society would love a chance to study-”

“Absolutely not.” It came out in a hiss; he cleared his throat. “I understand that my circumstances are unique, but I do not wish to be prodded and examined like some experiment.”

As Blurg mumbled an apology, he waved his hand. “None taken. I do hope you both enjoy the rest of the evening.” Astarion hurried off before Omeluum or Blurg could make some other inane comment that pushed his patience to the limit.

He settled onto his throne, eyeing Ban’s, which had been installed closely beside his. Surveying the ballroom gave him an odd sense of satisfaction, but also of melancholy. Here was everyone he’d ever cared about, however little, all under one roof. He wondered how many of them came for her more than him, but he brushed that aside. Her or him - it mattered little. They were one, and everyone had come from far and wide, for them.

He spied Ban bowing out of a conversation with Dame Aylin and Isobel, heading to the bedrooms for her final outfit change. He stood, quickly heading that way as well.

Astarion caught up to her right outside their bedroom door, playfully grabbing her wrist and tugging her to him. “Tut, tut. You left without telling me,” he chided.

“You were on the throne, leering at everyone. I figured you were having fun.”

He rolled his eyes. “Not as much fun as I’d have watching you undress.”

“Touché.”

It was quicker this time, each of them slipping out of their elaborate clothes without much fuss. He helped her with the buttons on the back of her dress, wordlessly undoing them, refraining - with some effort - from pressing himself against her backside. He could not, however, resist kissing his way down her bare skin.

She laughed, a soft, tinkling sound that made his heart soar. Her smile was radiant when she turned to face him. “A few hours more, and you can do everything you’ve been wanting to do to me.”

He nodded, a bit preoccupied with his thoughts. He felt her hand cup his cheek, bringing his gaze back to her. “Something wrong?”

“No. Nothing significant.” He gestured towards the party. “The Society seems overly curious about my… condition.”

“You are unique. I’m not surprised they’d want to at least ask a few questions.” She headed off to grab her next and final ensemble, a blood-red and black dress. His suit hung behind the door, red and gold to match. He unhooked it and began to tug it on, frowning.

“That much is true, I suppose. I merely dislike being looked at like…” he trailed off. Like he wasn’t a person, rather something to be poked at and prodded. He’d had more than enough of that in his life.

She looked to him, her hands stilling where they were pulling the dress up halfway on her body. “I know. I’m sorry. They… they don’t know.”

“A fair point.”

She approached him, turning in a silent request for him to tie up the lacing. As he did, he cleared his throat. “All this,” he began, “the people, the party… they would not be here if it were not for you.”

“Don’t think that.”

“Not thinking something does not make it untrue.” He turned her around. “They like me well enough - the snippy, prickly vampire lord, held on a leash by the hero of Baldur’s Gate.” He knew he sounded bitter, and didn’t care. While he was glad they no longer saw him as a monster, this was still a rather unpleasant truth to swallow.

“Astarion,” she turned to face him. “Our companions think more of you than just that.”

“They do, now. How about the rest?” He raised an eyebrow. When she didn’t answer, he placed a firm kiss on her lips.

“I am completely aware of what they see me as. What they think of me, of all this. Perhaps they also judge you too, or blame me for corrupting you,” he held up a hand to shush her as she tried to speak, “but the point is - they’re here for you.”

They spoke at the same time.

“It doesn’t matter what they think-”

“None of it matters-”

He laughed. “I suppose we agree on that, at least.”

She buried herself in his chest, and he planted an affectionate kiss at the top of her head, gently rocking her, settling his chin on the spot where his lips were just moments ago.

“I know none of it matters,” he repeated. “It… stings, at moments, but it isn’t anything new, or anything unexpected. I mentioned it to highlight one simple thing, however.”

“Which is?”

“You.” He lifted her face off his chest, fixing her with his gaze. “You, simply put. My wife.” His eyes crinkled as he smiled. “They see you. Your bravery and strength,” he paused, “your heart.”

“Which we both know to be neither kind nor nice.”

He snorted. “They don’t need to know that. Besides, people judge your merit by your deeds, not your thoughts.”

“Oddly wise, coming from you.” She nudged him. He turned her around again to finish tying up her dress.

“I am two centuries old, Ban. You pick up some things along the way.”

They waltzed amongst the crowd, the party in full swing now. They made a striking pair, both dressed in red. He lowered her for a dip he knew she’d have to have extra assistance with and he felt her falter; he quickly gripped her waist and straightened up, effortlessly taking her with him.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, and he stifled a laugh.

“Clumsy as ever, darling.”

She looked down. “These shoes are too high. You can’t even see them through the dress - I have no idea why I decided to wear these.”

“Well…” he squeezed her thigh through the layers of fabric. “They would show, if your husband decided to ruck up your skirt, perhaps as you sat in his lap on his throne…”

“Would you like that?” She pressed against his body; he swallowed down a wave of desire.

“Perhaps another night, when I’m not so…” he thought for a moment, biting his lip, “on edge.”

They moved across the dance floor effortlessly, thanks to his careful guidance. Astarion saw Halsin approaching from the corner of his eye.

“Astarion, Ban,” Halsin made a small bow. “May I have the honor of dancing with the bride for a song?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Of course.”

Ban took Halsin’s hand and Astarion watched them for a moment before turning to find another partner. He spied Shadowheart and Lae’zel in the corner and decided on the safer option of the two. Shadowheart would be less likely to eviscerate him. Probably.

Ban held on to Halsin’s thick frame. The two of them were dancing as simple a waltz as they could, seeing as neither had any skill in it.

“I never found an opportunity to tell you, Ban, but I am glad things went well for you and Astarion,” he rumbled. She could smell a faint whiff of earth, and gazed up at him.

She shrugged. “Who knew, right? From the grove to here - and look at you in a suit!”

His laugh made people look at them. “A rare sight, indeed. You should consider yourself lucky.”

“Or cursed. It honestly depends.”

Halsin’s smile remained, and he looked over to where Astarion was dancing with Shadowheart. She looked as well and noted that they made a fine pair, weaving through the crowd with far more grace than Ban could ever hope to achieve.

“Hm.” He looked back at her ruefully. “Fate is never predictable. Much like nature, we are simply subject to its whims, capricious and ever-changing as they are.”

She nodded in agreement. “I am glad… that you and Astarion seemed to have made amends, even before the wedding. I wasn’t privy to your conversation back in Reithwin, but I assume it went really well.”

“It was not too difficult, and it did go well. He was far more willing to listen than I expected him to be, judging from when I had met him last.”

“And considering what had happened between us,” she finished for him. “Which, well. It was a complicated mess. I knew he wouldn’t like it, but I did it anyway, to spite him. I had a wonderful time, but... I’m sorry for dragging you into it.”

Halsin’s brow furrowed. “It was a difficult time, and none of us were completely to blame.”

“You carry none of the blame, Halsin.”

He opened his mouth, as if to argue, but with a shake of her head he nodded. “Then I shall accept that.”

She searched for a change in topic, and cleared her throat. “I trust the children are in safe hands tonight?”

“They are. I shall leave tomorrow, to make sure they don’t miss me too much. I’ve already spent far too much time away from them to whittle your wedding present; I do not wish to be parted from them any longer.”

“Is it… in the same vein as the previous gift?” She could not help but ask.

Halsin chuckled. “Unfortunately, no. This one is to hopefully adorn your mantlepiece.”

As Halsin spoke, Ban noticed Astarion and Shadowheart moving towards them, likely to swap partners.

“Halsin.” Astarion smiled, “May I have my wife back, please?”

Ban scanned his features, looking to see if there was any lingering tension there, but he seemed to be perfectly sincere. She took her husband’s hand and Shadowheart took Halsin’s.

“You took him out for a spin,” Ban told her, “and did his skill justice better than I ever could. You’re both so graceful, it was beautiful to watch.”

Shadowheart arched her eyebrows. “Just a little more practice, that’s all.” She shot Astarion a wink, then was swept away in Halsin’s arms.

“What was that for?” Ban raised an eyebrow at Astarion.

He smirked. “Shadowheart had a gift, which she thinks you’ll find enjoyable.”

“Enjoyable?” She immediately felt a little suspicious. “What would that be?”

“And ruin the surprise? Tch.” He shook his head. “But considering what she and I saw back with that priest of Loviatar…”

Ban pursed her lips. “Fine.” But she deliberately slipped her hand lower, skating over the swell of Astarion’s ass. His eyes widened and he bared his fangs playfully.

“You’ll be thoroughly punished for that, you know?”

“Mhm. But not before I make a mess out of you first.” The response obviously caught him off guard; he blinked twice, his breath hitching as his pupils dilated. He recovered after a long moment, a smirk growing on his face.

“I’d like to see you try.”

As if he hadn’t almost come undone under her touch earlier tonight. She let it stand, however, closing her eyes as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. They swayed in silence, allowing the music to sweep across them. She felt his mind reach for hers; there was that soft, soothing sensation of his mind wrapping around hers. They danced.

Her feet, aching from the heeled shoe. His, snug in his usual wyrmhide loafers. The weight of her gown tugging on her every move, her scalp, pulled tight by her braids. She no longer felt it usually, but she did as Astarion took note of it.

His hand slipped off her waist, tugging a hairpin out. He tucked it in his pocket, tucked an errant strand behind her ear and then watched her curiously.

“You’re going to mess my hair up, if you take out more,” she warned.

A smile graced his features. “Perhaps that’s the idea.” He pulled out more, loosening her hair further. She was about to complain, then realized he was leading her to her throne.

“Sit.” His voice was firm, and she sighed, settling on the black throne. He knelt in front of her, hands slipping underneath the massive skirt of her gown.

She panicked, wondering if he was tipsy enough to actually do this with all the guests present. She gripped his wrist in alarm, but he shook his head at her. Ban prepared to protest yet again, when she felt his fingers unstrap her shoe and slip it off her tired foot. He pressed his thumbs on the arch, soothing it. The other shoe followed soon thereafter.

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

She conceded then, allowed him to massage her feet until they no longer ached so much. He slowly put them down on the dais. As he leaned back, seemingly satisfied, she leaned forward and grabbed his face for a deep kiss. “Thank you. I have no doubt this will just make me look worse, but…” she shrugged.

He chuffed out a small laugh. “Whoever said I’m doing this for you? I might merely be preparing for tonight.” His thoughts, however, were filled with nothing but warmth. He stood up and offered her his hand.

She took it, tilting her head in confusion. Was he… she didn’t look proper, with her hair half undone and barefoot. As he pulled on her hand she held back.

I’m not properly dressed anymore.

He rounded on her, taking her other hand and tugging on both, a smile on his lips. “I don’t care, and neither will they, especially if they value their lives. You look absolutely radiant. Place your feet on mine,” he instructed, taking a step forward so she could do so.

She grew even more confused. “I’m not sure-”

The smile grew wider. “I’ve got you, darling. Haven’t you learned that by now?”

She nodded, carefully standing on his feet. He held her close in a snug grip, tucking her close to his body, and then he spun.

The pace was fast, faster than any of their dances today or any of their balls, faster than any amount of practice could achieve. She had tried her best to keep up with him during dance rehearsals, but she had never come close. Dexterity and finesse came naturally to Astarion, after all, and compared to him she felt like she had leaden feet. Let alone his vampiric speed. The pace of it almost took her breath away, the world blurring to just the rush of air across her face, the tight grip Astarion had on her body, and his breathing, soft against her ear, faster from exertion.

Her vision began to swim, and she locked her gaze on his eyes, the only thing that seemed to stay stationary. The world spun around them, the music and the chattering of the crowd loud, but none of it mattered. The exhaustion of the day finally felt like it was ebbing away, and she found herself shooting him a grin, to which he responded in kind.

“Finally a dance you can be proud of,” he teased, and she shook her head, admitting defeat.

She closed her eyes, melting into his grasp, resting her head on his chest. She heard a soft, contented hum and felt a quick press of lips to her temple, and for the first time today, she allowed herself to relax.

Bonus: All wedding outfits can be seen here

#astarion #astarion baldurs gate #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion fic #astarion x tav #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #astarion fanfic #astarion romance #astarion x mc #astarion art #soft ascended astarion #ascended astarion x f!tav #ascended astarion x tav #ascended astarion #astarion fanfiction #astarion fluff #astarion fanart #bg3 romance #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fic #bg3 fanart #baldur's gate astarion #baldur's gate tav #tav #tavstarion

[prettiestlovergirl]

SWEET

tw: MDNI; fem!reader; slytherin! reader; oral (f. receiving); hickeys; kitchen quickie; slightly sub! mattheo riddle; french! mattheo riddle.

concept: an afternoon of baking ends in you covered in a mess your boyfriend, mattheo riddle, is more than willing to help you clean up.

a/n: one of my lovely lovely anons helped me come up with this idea hehe. inspired by me, accidentally covering myself in edible glitter when baking. some idea credit to bratetteprincess who just recently did a latina! reader baking w/luke castellan fic! enjoy, my lovelies! 𓆩♡𓆪

everybody in your house knew that sunday mornings were for your baking.

after two years of begging and pleading with all of your professors, you were given permission to use the kitchens one day a week in order to bake to your hearts desire.

you always liked to experiment with new things. various dyes that stained your hands different shades, new flavors that made your hair smell for days, edible flowers that made you gag.

today, though, you might have gotten just a teensy tiny bit carried away with your current experiment: edible glitter.

you'd been desperately craving carrot cupcakes but after you'd made and decorated them, they just looked so... boring. after glancing around the blissfully empty kitchen, you spotted it: the silver edible glitter just begging to be used.

you pressed the pump once over the baking tray, watching happily as a cloud of glitter flew out and created a glittery sheen over the cream cheese frosting.

long story short, 15 minutes later your cupcakes were perfect and you were absolutely covered in edible glitter.

you'd been in the middle of sliding your pretty pink apron off when your boyfriend, mattheo, came in to bother check up on you. mattheo was practically fucking addicted to you.

he couldn't stand not being around you for more than an hour, and when he was with you? his hands were all over you, constantly touching, grabbing, rubbing, or squeezing some part of your body. not that you really minded, you were just as obsessed with him.

"wow, ma douce (my sweet), did an arts and crafts shop throw up on you?" he asked, his usual teasing smirk on lips as he wrapped his arm around you. he nuzzled his face into your neck, not caring about the glitter transferring to his clothes. "what are you even doing with glitter? thought you were baking." he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"it's edible glitter. my cupcakes looked so boring n i ran out of those carrot n bunny sprinkles i love so... i tried something new." you shrugged, sticking your lower lip out in a pout as you set your glitter covered apron down on the counter.

"edible, huh?" mattheo asked, eyes now locked on the shimmering skin above your collarbone. "mhm." you nodded, not paying much attention to your boyfriend as you attempted to try and clean up your mess.

you paused your actions as he leaned down and took a nice, long lick up from your collarbone to your jaw. you let out a soft gasp while he groaned instantly at the sugar taste, admiring how your skin shined now with both the glitter and his saliva.

"mattheo..." you breathed, your voice a soft whine as he drew his tongue back down. "mattheo, i have to clean up, it's part of my deal with the professors." you whined, trying to move from his grip that only seemed to tighten as you shifted.

he thrived on the sounds of your pretty little whimpers, already getting drunk on the one little taste he had of you. he'd never been so down bad for anyone before, but with you? he couldn't help but want to touch you, taste you, 24/7.

"we are cleaning up, ma douce (my sweet). 'm helping you clean up all this glitter first, you got a big clump right there." he murmured, pressing his lips to the skin and sucking harshly on it, drawing another whimper from your lips.

he sucked on the skin, drawing moan after moan out of you until he could see the beginnings of a pretty purple bruise. "there we go, all gone." he hummed, his hands finding their way up to your chest and squeezing your boobs gently.

you mewled softly as he squeezed, biting your lower lip as he kissed and sucked purple marks all over your neck. you squeezed your thighs together tightly, feeling the wetness pool in your panties.

normally, you'd be upset with the number of hickeys he left, but the way his lips moved in sync with his hands made you a little distracted.

he moved away from your neck, now kissing and swiping his tongue over the skin down your arms. he left the occasional bite mark as he moved, your fingers now digging into his scalp as your breathing got heavy.

"mm, mattheo, now you've got some glitter on you." you pouted, dipping your own head down to lick up the newly transferred glitter. you traced your name on his neck with your tongue, leaving your own series of hickeys on his neck.

"fuck." he groaned, hands still massaging your boobs over your clothes while you suck his neck and paint it varying shades of purple and green.

"you should use this glitter more often." he murmured, to which you simply nodded instantly. you grazed your teeth over his pulse point, giggling softly as he let out his own soft whine. "y'know, i think you've got some more glitter down further. hop up on the counter, yeah? want to check it out." he grunted.

you pushed the cooling rack holding your sparkly cupcakes to the side before lifting yourself up onto the counter. "really want to make sure we get it all off." mattheo hummed, lifting your ass up a bit and dragging your shorts and panties down your legs.

he knelt down before you, pressing a few soft kisses up both of your legs before being face to face with your drooling cunt. "ma douce, douce ange (my sweet, sweet angel)" he crooned, taking a long lick through your puffy folds and watching as your toes curled in pleasure.

"fuck, it's even sweeter than the glitter." he groaned, dipping his tongue right back into your pussy. your head lolled back, teeth trapping your lower lip roughly while your hand gripped the back of his head.

he pinched your clit between his teeth and his tongue before rubbing his tongue back and forth rapidly. he relished in the way your back arched and your moans got louder and louder.

you thanked god for the soundproofed kitchens as you bucked your hips against his face. "mattheo, fuck, mattheo!" you whimpered, his name sounding like heaven from your lips.

his tongue continued to work your sensitive clit as you moaned for more, begged for him to move faster. "god, fuck yes, fuck!" you whined, gripping at his curls tightly while he continued to flick his tongue against your puffy bundle of nerves.

"shit, fuck, mattheo, 'm gonna- fuck!" you moaned, nearly collapsing back on the counter as you came roughly on his tongue and chin. he licked and lapped at your pussy, going until he got every single drop and your legs were quivering from the overstimulation.

he let you catch your breath before eventually helping you back up. you got redressed and together, you picked up the kitchen and got your cupcakes onto your pretty little platter.

later that afternoon, you and mattheo snuggled up together on the couch in the common room, chatting away about whatever nonsense you felt like chatting about.

when your friends came in, their eyes widened in confusion at the sight of you: you were both still coated in glitter with hickeys all over your necks, and you even had bite marks on your arms.

"jesus, did you get into a fight with a sparkly vampire?"

ᵈⁱᵛⁱᵈᵉʳ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵇʸ @ᵐᵘʳᵘᶠᶠⁱⁿ

#☆lola writes ! #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo smut #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x you #slytherin boys

[ghosts-cyphera]

Drawing Trust

╰﹒to comfort a young girl who has just lost her entire family, Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley borrows out the two things that bring him reassurance. his mask, and you.

warnings/content: themes of death/blood/violence, but overall just a fluffy little thing. gn!reader; simon taking off his mask for the first time in front of you; word count 2.3k

The maroon carpet was rough against the palms of your hands, as you sat cross-legged on the floor of the dimly-lit office. The night had fallen hours prior, and you stifled a yawn, as the quiet minutes stretched out: the only sound to be heard was the scribbling of the slightly dry ballpoint pens and the deep breathing of the concentrated child sitting beside you. 

With her tongue nipped between her teeth and her eyes slightly squinted, she drew on the finishing touches and turned to you.

"Done."

"Look at you go." You smiled, as you leaned over to take a look at the blue, black, and red lines. The blue lines formed a box to which four black sticks, each with four smaller sticks at their tips, were connected. Two small circles, which you assumed were eyes, and a red curve right underneath them formed a down-turned pout on the features of the box-bodied stick figure.

"Leila," you gasped, as you turned to the little girl. "I was about to claim this to be yet another masterpiece, but I've just now seen that the mouth—"

She leaned in to take a look.

"It's upside down." You furrowed your brows. "This can't be right, can it?"

The little girl grinned. "It's right because he's sad."

"Sad?" You raised a brow. "But how could anyone be sad when they have such a neat t-shirt on? The blue really highlights the color of his eyes, you know. An awesome choice on your end."

"I only had three colors."

"Still," you chuckled, as you pulled out another sheet of white printer paper and handed it to her. "Only a true artist knows where to use each color. What do you say we play 'draw-and-guess'?"

"He's sad because his family is dead."

Alright. No draw-and-guess.

Leila's fingers closed once more around the ballpoint pens to continue the drawing. Now, connected to the smaller sticks—the fingers of the box-bodied stick figure—something resembling a black banana was being drawn. 

Yet, you knew.

"He's sad because he killed his family." Her tiny little fingers wrapped around the red ballpoint pen, as she started to add splatters of blood, much in the shape of flowers, all around the paper. "They weren't really his family, not really. But they were as good as his real family, Mama said. He had been with them ever since he was a boy, but Mama said he became really bad and that's why he was with the cartel who wanted him dead, and his family dead. So then he killed them."

Indeed. It had not been a black banana that the target had been holding when your squad had found him a couple of hours prior with a self-inflicted bullet wound to the temple. The whole mission had been one big shitshow: suspects and leads turning up dead around one corner and another, until… 

Until.

"But he didn't kill me, which is nice because I like hanging out with you." Leila's voice was matter-of-factly as she flashed you a warm smile. So matter-of-factly, indeed, that if she had not just heard his entire foster family dying, you might have laughed at the cheery tone of her voice.

"Oh, yeah?" You managed, as you gently nudged her with your shoulder. "Well, that makes two of us then, doesn't it? I haven't had this much fun since I sneaked into the office of my boss to steal his stash of candy."

Her eyes suddenly beginning to twinkle, Leila raised her gaze to meet yours: her drawing now lying long forgotten on the carpeted floor. "Candy?"

This you did know how to handle.

"Mountains, and mountains, and damn mountains of it," you confirmed with a grin. "I'm afraid I took a little more than I should have, but I'm sure there's still some left. Wanna go sneak around and see if we can find some of your favorites?"

"Maybe they have Three Musketeers," she nodded her head, as she hopped up from the floor. "Or Reese's. When it was Halloween, I ate so many Reese's that my poo—" Her words suddenly died down on her lips, as she took a rushed step closer to you. 

You frowned. "Leila, are you—" 

And that's when you saw the movement at the door of the office. 

The figure standing by the door frame was so tall and wide that it blocked out most of the light streaming in from the hallway, and as it moved to take a step towards the two of you, Leila rushed to hide behind your back, small fingers closing around your arm. 

"Oh, sweetheart," you rushed to speak with a breathless chuckle, your brows furrowed. "It's alright, it's just my friend."

As if finally registering the sudden shift in the mood, Ghost's steps came to a halt, and his eyes darted to search yours.

"Ghost," you smiled, making sure that your voice remained warm and steady. "This is Leila. Leila, darling, this is my friend, Ghost."

Despite feeling the way that she shifted her weight from one foot to another, she did not answer, as she continued clinging to your arm.

"I know he's a little big and mangy—," Ghost raised his brow at you, and you bit down your laugh, "but he was there when I found you. He had my back when I carried you back to the cars so that we could both get out safely." Your voice was a warm hum. "Would it be alright if he came here to say hi to you?"

Quiet.

"If you don't want to talk, that's alright. How about you go and squeeze my arm if it's alright with you that he comes over?"

Five small fingers squeezed around your arm, and you nodded your head with a gentle smile. "Atta girl."

On Ghost's features, you could see his gentle hesitance, as his heavy feet led him to take a few careful steps towards the two of you. With you sitting on the ground, he looked even taller and broader than he usually did, and just as you were about to ask him to crouch on the floor with you, he took the hint.

With his padded knees touching the carpeted floor, he spoke with a warm voice despite its low rumble. "Hello, there. It's Leila, yeah? My name's Ghost. I'm—err—I'm a friend of Sarge here."

"The bestest friend," you hummed with a soft chuckle, and from your words, the corners of Ghost's eyes crinkled.

"The mask’s what’s scarin' you, yeah?" He gestured towards the piece fashioned after a skull, and you could feel Leila taking a step behind your back. To peek over your shoulder or to hide further away, you were not sure of.

"It's—err—it's something that—," Ghost attempted. "It's something that makes me feel safe. Less scared, yeah? It's like—when I've got it on, I'm in my own world, yeah? In my own bubble."

You smiled, as you turned your head ever so slightly towards Leila. "Have you got something like that, love? Something that makes you feel less scared?"

And just as you thought that she was not ready to speak yet, the hesitant voice replied back. "I have a turtle. Eugene."

Ghost's laugh was low—all while gentle and warm—as he nodded his head. "That's a bloody brilliant name for a turtle, that is. You've got Eugene with you?"

"No," the small voice called back.

Oh no.

The same realization that crashed upon you visibly dawned upon Ghost, too, for you could notice the way that he blinked his eyes shut for a split second in his regret.

"I forgot to take him with me." Leila's voice cracked, and with it, your heart clenched in your chest. "I miss him."

"What do you say I—," Ghost glanced at you, lowering his voice ever so slightly. "I can go back 'n get it for her, yeah?"

"They had to pull all the troops back," you shook your head. "Something about explosives in the basement. They're waiting for SWAT to arrive to clear the house."

Fuck, his eyes told you. 

I know, the raise of your brow answered, just as the quiet sniffle sounded from behind your back. What the fuck do we do now?

Ghost blinked his eyes shut for a moment, and then with a deep breath, he spoke. "Leila, love?" He sat down on the carpet, his fingers gently moving aside the drawings. "Remember what I told you about the mask, yeah? About how it keeps me safe and protects me?"

A quiet sniffle came from behind your shoulder, followed by a quiet "yeah."

"Well, having assessed the situation at hand, in my—err—professional opinion, it seems like it's you who's needing the mask right now more than I am, yeah?"

You blinked at his words, your lips parting ever so slightly as his gloved fingers moved to the hem of his mask. You could see the soft hesitation in his movements: the gentle shake of his hands, barely noticeable yet there if you knew to look for it.

And with a deep breath, he pulled it off.

Pausing for the briefest of moments, he looked at the mask in his fingers before raising his gaze. At first, it was headed slightly past you towards the girl behind your back, and then, it drifted to you.

He was your Ghost.

The corners of your lips tugged into a smile, and you swallowed as you nodded your head once and thrice. 

He was your Ghost, and he was beautiful.

Fucking hell.

From the sudden blurriness of your gaze, you glanced up in a desperate attempt to blink away your tears, only to give up with a soft chuckle as you felt two of them rolling down your cheeks, slow and gentle.

Happy: the same happiness reflecting back on the features of Ghost, as the tip of his boot brushed against yours. 

I'm here, his eyes told you. It's alright.

The sudden gentle movement behind your back drew you back into the moment, and just as you forced your lips to part, Ghost, instead, took the lead.

"Wanna come ‘n take a look at it?"

While her movements were still overshadowed by her hesitance, there was now a hint of curiosity too in the way that Leila slipped out from behind your back, and walked to Ghost.

Sitting cross-legged next to him, she carefully reached for the mask, her index finger running across the cheek of the skull.

"It's not soft like Eugene is," she hummed before her carefully twinkling eyes found those of Ghost.

"No," he laughed with a nod of his head. As he did, his nose scrunched up ever so slightly, and you bit your lip to hide your smile. "No, but what I like about it is… When you have it on, no one can see your face, right? It's—"

"Oh, it's like—," Leila smiled, as her fingers traced the edges of the skull. "It's like the shell of Eugene. When he's scared, or—or when he needs to be alone, he can go into his shell and feel safe because it's just him there."

"Yeah. Something like that, yeah," Ghost nodded with a smile. "Wanna—err—wanna try it on?"

Her eyes sparkling now, Leila nodded her head fast and hard enough to surely get the girl dizzy were she to keep it up. "Yes, please."

"C'mere then, yeah?" His fingers fumbled with the fabric, as he got it straightened out. "Look up." She did as she was told, and Ghost slid it over her head—only for the three of you to laugh, as it slipped over her eyes. "Hold up. There ya go, yeah? Can you see through the holes?"

"Yeah," Leila called out, her voice slightly muffled. Despite not being able to see her little features any longer—her button nose and freckled cheeks hidden by the mask far too big and wide for her delicate features—you could hear the burning excitement in her voice, as the mask shook with her nods. "This is awesome. Do I look scary now?"

"Fuckin' terrifying," Ghost grinned.

"How does it feel?" You hummed, leaning back. 

"Safe," Leila confirmed with a chuckle.

"Yeah? Like the shell of Eugene, eh?"

"Yeah, like I was hiding in a shell." She laughed. "A big shell. A stinky shell."

Ghost's eyes blinking shut, he nodded his head as a deeply amused laugh danced from your lips. 

"Yeah. Yeah," he grinned, the apples of his cheeks slightly flushed as his hand moved to rub his face with his laughter. "This turtle might've been a little lazy with his fuckin’ baths lately, eh? What do you say you give it back here before you embarrass me further in front of my best friend, yeah?"

Leila laughed as her little hands moved to slide the mask off her features, and she drew in an exaggerated breath. "Ah, lovely fresh air."

"Little shit," Ghost grinned, and you playfully kicked him with your boot. 

"Keep it up and we're not taking you with us on our candy heist, are we, Leila?" 

"Nah, he can come," Leila smiled, as she offered her hand to urge you up from the ground. "He's fun, even if he's stinking. Besides," she then chuckled as she pulled you up, before offering her hand for Ghost. “We need him to carry it all back. Because he's stronger than we are."

"Happy to be fuckin' useful," he chuckled.

"And if we get caught," you arched an amused brow at the girl, softly elbowing Ghost as you did, "we can blame it all on him."

"See, this is why I like you," Leila announced, as she started leading the way out of the office. Yet not before her voice, gently amused yet oh-so-knowing, had added: "And probably why Ghost's in love with you, too."

The corners of your lips tugged into a smirk, and you raised a brow at him. "That so, Lt.?"

"It was you who demoted me, darlin’," he chuckled under his breath, as his fingers brushed against yours, gentle and knowing. "Best friend, eh?”

Or maybe—just maybe—something just a little bit more than that.

a/n: if you liked this wee little thing, please do let me know via comments, tags, or asks—whatever works for you. reading your feedback means the absolute world to me. ♡

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost cod x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley fluff

[probably-writing-x]

Armour

Rafe!AU x Reader

Summary: Having your heart broken was one thing. But Rafe watching somebody break your heart? That was something nobody could prepare for.

Warnings: Suggestions of a toxic relationship, cursing, mentions of alcohol / drug dependency, I think that’s everything??

Word Count: 4.1k

Author’s Note: I LOVED writing this - it took me ages but I just had the idea from this gif and went for it. Let me know if you like it <3

It wasn’t a feeling you could describe. Because, really, it felt like there was no explanation. You’d been in love. You’d been consumed. And now? Nothing. It felt like a part of your future had been torn away in front of you. And you didn’t know why.

For nine years now you’d been dating your boyfriend, James. He was your high school relationship, turned college relationship, and the two of you had returned to the Outer Banks and bought a place together - planning on staying here so that he could work for his father now that the two of you had graduated college.

You’d been living in the house for a year now, down the road from his parents’ home, where he’d grown up. It was weird really, you’d been so certain that you wanted to get off the island. But he’d suggested moving back here and you agreed. That was what was going to keep him happy, anyway. And, plus, him working for his Dad’s company would mean that the two of you were practically set for life. Though it felt strange to think that your life would begin and end here. You’d done it for him, for your relationship, your future with James.

And yet you couldn’t figure out where things had changed. You couldn’t pinpoint a day, a moment, an argument; nothing. One day he was yours and the next he was disappearing. And, as much as you wanted to keep him, there was only so much it was in your control.

It was a day burned into your mind, one that would remain burned there for a long time. The way he’d looked at you, cold and heartless. The way he’d spoken, yelled and screamed when you disagreed. And, just like that, he’d packed a bag and walked out towards his parents’ place, telling you that it was over. Nine years of a relationship slipping away, disappearing into the dark of your first night alone.

Sarah had come round that night and stayed with you, her baby bump growing into her fifth month of pregnancy. She’d stayed with you on the couch as you cried, still been there in the morning when your eyes were tired and puffy. She’d stayed the entire day and helped pack up as many of your things as you could, called John B to get him to help take your stuff to their house.

They lived where the chalet used to be, in a house John B had built with the boys, much bigger than what they used to have. One of the rooms was taken up by the starts of their nursery, and they’d already set up an air mattress in the other room for you, a spare sheet and comforter folded on top. You didn’t sleep much more than a couple of hours that night either, or the night after, and you only slept from exhaustion on the fourth night.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Sarah knocks gently on the door before letting herself in, “How are you doing?”

You pull yourself to sit up in the bed, pushing yourself back against the headboard, drawing your knees to your chest, “I’m okay, just tired.”

She frowns and comes to sit on the bed beside you, her hand squeezing your knee, “So, you don’t have to see him if you don’t want to, but my brother is flying back today.”

Rafe. Her older brother. The boy you’d grown up with. He’d been your first kiss at a party when both of you were too young to know what you were doing. He’d been the boy that picked you up from your first drunk night when your parents couldn’t know you’d been drinking. He’d been the one your eyes were drawn to in a crowd of people since you could remember. You hadn’t seen him since the summer after your first year of college. He’d decided to move to New York - taking up a job in the city. The two of you had sat on the dock and spoken for hours and he ended the conversation by telling you he was leaving in the morning. Since then, your paths hadn’t crossed. He was barely home nowadays. But, you suppose, with Sarah being pregnant, it was a better time than any for him to return to the old stomping grounds.

“He’s coming here?” You swallow the lump in your throat.

She nods, “He’s going to sleep on the couch for a couple of nights. I haven’t told him anything about you and James - I figured it was up to you if you wanted to tell him or not.”

You take a deep breath and nod too, “Okay, thank you.”

Sarah squeezes your leg again and places her other hand over her bump, pushing herself up to stand, “John B is making some food if you want any breakfast. I’d make the most of it, he hates cooking normally,” She laughs, the sympathy still casting a shadow over her bright eyes.

Sarah knew how things were with you and Rafe, as much as she never mentioned it to you - it was a conversation that it felt like the two of you had already had without any words being spoken. She’d seen his face after the two of you kissed, the way he blushed and stuttered afterwards. She’d watched the way things had changed between you when you and James got together, the way Rafe seemed to distance. And she’d watched the pain in your eyes the day he left, like a little window through to the ache that seemed to never leave your heart. And, right now, she’d seen the slightest glimmer of hope in you at the mention of him coming home.

For the first time in a few days, you find yourself actually wanting to get up, get ready, feel a little human for the day. You shower and do all of your skincare, spending a little longer on it than you usually do. You half-dry your hair and plait it instead of leaving it to frizz around your head, and you change into clean clothes from the duffle bag of things that you and Sarah had packed up from your house - well, what was your house.

By the time you come downstairs, John B and Sarah are sat at the dining table, tucking into plates of food with a fresh pot of coffee and a jug of orange juice on the table. One of his arms is around the back of her chair, his eyes bright as he listens to her speak.

“Hey! You’re up!” He looks over and grins as you come down the stairs, “How are you feeling today?”

You smooth a hand over the two braids on your head and smile, feeling like you have to force it just a little less than before, “Better, thank you.”

“Good, well there’s food here if you want it,” He gestures to the table, “And eat up quick because Sarah’s eating enough for two at the minute.”

You laugh and make your way over, sitting down at the opposite side of the table. From the angle, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror in their lounge and the sight doesn’t feel like yourself. Your eyes are dark underneath, something no eye cream would fix after just one use. And your body seems weirdly shrunken in the sweatshirt around your figure. It sits long over your arms and so baggy that you can’t make out the shape of your torso. Your skin looks drier and your lips are chapped. But you remind yourself that you feel a little more human today and it seems to ease the worry for a while, your breath feeling less shaky as you turn back to the food.

“Oh shit, I didn’t realise the time,” John B glances at the clock, “I promised I’d go and help Pope build their crib before I went to pick your brother up - apparently I’m a pro at it now.”

Pope and Cleo were also expecting, due just a month after Sarah and John B’s baby would likely be born. They lived in a house not far from his parents’ place. JJ and Kie had come back to the Outer Banks a few months ago after travelling for a year - though they said it was less travelling and more finding as many places to surf as they could. Before that, Kie had been working on turtle conservation in a few different projects and JJ had been flying out everywhere with her - experiencing the world as a pair. They had no plans of marriage, or kids, or even where to settle, but that was perfect for them; chasing another adventure until it felt like they’d done it all. And you - whilst it felt like all of your friends were starting a new chapter, yours had just ended and the author was yet to think of where the story would go next. It was as if one of the main characters had just dropped out of the pages, leaving the story in ruins from here on out - all chapters of marriage and pregnancy and growing old together disappearing as quickly as James had told you it was over.

John B kisses Sarah a quick goodbye and grabs the keys to his truck, disappearing outside. A chill flurries through the house but it dissipates quickly, settling back into the home they’d managed to make together. You weren’t sure if you could remember your house feeling like that, and when you think about it for too long, you settle on the fact that maybe it never had.

~~~

It’s early afternoon when you hear the sound of a car in the driveway. And you’re sure your ears prick up to the noise, your heart seeming to pause a little in preparation. You set down the book in your hands and stand up from the couch, glancing at your appearance in the mirror quickly and dragging your fingertips underneath your eyes as if to push the fatigue away from them.

“I think that’s them back,” Sarah comments as she comes downstairs, making her way over to the door, “Yeah, that’s them! Are you okay?”

You glance at her and regather your words, “Of course.”

And, just like that, the door clicks open and the sound of two rumbling voices tumbles into the room, a deep laugh that pauses halfway through.

“Hey little sis!” Rafe’s voice seems no different than when you last heard it, deep and intense but seemingly so comforting.

He grins as he wraps his arms around his sister, cautiously as if the bump between them is the most fragile thing he’s seen. His eyes flick down to the baby bump and back up, shaking his head with the slightest reflection of tears in his eyes.

“I still can’t believe it,” He chuckles, hugging her again, “I was just saying to John B that I-“

As he pulls away from her, his eyes flick back to the only other body in the room. The few metres between you. His shoulders and features soften, his body relaxing just slightly. His smile falters, somewhere close to shock, before returning as bright as it had been before.

“(Y/N)…” His voice seems to trail off, Adam’s apple bobbing and the sound of his duffle bag hitting the floor seeming to echo in the space between you, “Long time no see.”

With that, he strides the short distance between you and wraps his arms around you tightly, tight enough that your feet just slightly lift from the ground. He smells like dark cologne and coffee and his hair is longer than when you’d seen him last, his face seeming fuller and sharper as if he’d grown into himself, a shadow of stubble growing darker around his jawline.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” He comments, settling you back as he steps away from you, hands still gripping your forearms - his eyes seem to graze over you as if checking over.

“Yeah I-“ You clear your throat, voice seeming scratchy as your eyes find it impossible to leave him, “I’m just staying for a few days.”

“God, it’s good to see you,” His brows raise with his smile, a light laugh warming the space between you before Rafe seems to come back to himself, clearing his throat and letting go of his hold around your arms, one of his hands flying up to scratch at the back of his neck.

“I’ll leave your stuff down here if that’s okay, Rafe,” Sarah comments, “Are you sure you’re okay with sleeping on the couch?”

He turns away from you and takes a second to rejoin a conversation away from you, nodding, “Yeah, of course. We all know I slept in way worse places after drunk nights before.”

You’d learnt from Sarah that Rafe was completely sober now - he’d stopped the drinking and the drugs not long after you’d gone off to college, and Sarah still swore it was like a weird shift into his old self coming back. You weren’t sure that you knew what she meant - he’d always been Rafe to you.

“Alright, I’ll bring down some pillows and a blanket,” John B nods, jogging upstairs.

Before you can say anything else, your phone starts to ring on one of the side tables by the couch, buzzing loudly against the wooden surface. The screen flashes up with “James” accompanied by a blue heart emoji and a photo of the two of you on vacation that you still hadn’t removed.

“I-“ You feel your cheeks heat, “I should take this.”

You grab the phone and flee down the corridor, only answering the call when you’re outside, the door to the garden remaining ajar behind you.

“Hello?”

“(Y/N),” He returns, his voice seeming cold even through the speaker of your phone, “Are you still at Sarah’s?”

“Yeah I’m just staying here for a few days I-“

“Okay, I have more of your stuff to drop off,” James cuts in, “I’ll swing by and leave it at the front door.”

“James can we just-“

He hangs up then and the phone feels heavy in your hand, still lightly pressed against your ear as if any part of him still remained. Your heart seems to clench and your bottom lip quivers but you pierce your lips together tightly to stop it, clenching your nails into your palm until the slight sting centres you back into where you were. This morning had felt like a better day, a few steps forward, and within just a few short words you seemed to have tumbled all the way back to square one.

When you turn around and go back inside, it’s just Rafe left in the lounge.

“Where did-“

“Something to do with pregnancy,” Rafe narrows his eyes a little, a small smile on his lips, “But I have no idea what she actually said.”

You nod and wrap your arms around yourself, avoiding his gaze.

He frowns, standing up from the couch, “Is everything okay?”

You nod again.

“I saw you were reading To Kill A Mockingbird, do you like it? I realise I never asked you,” He picks up your copy from the table and brushes a thumb over the worn cover.

He’d given you that book when you’d graduated. You’d read it front to back at least four times since then, sometimes just reading the annotations that he’d put in the margins instead of the printed words on the page.

“It’s the one I gave you,” His brows drop as if in sudden realisation, and his eyes seem brighter like they’re swelling with the hints of pride in his heart, “I didn’t even realise it was the same one. I can’t believe you’ve still got this.”

You fiddle with the material on the sleeves of your jumper, noticing how it seems to scratch at your skin more now, “Yeah, same one.”

Rafe glances up and the pride in his eyes seems to etch towards worry, “(Y/N), what’s going on?”

You shake your head again, “Um, I think I’m going to go and lie down. I should probably give you a chance to settle in anyway, you’ve been travelling and everything.”

With a slight stumble over your words, you hurry towards the stairs, disappearing out of his sight before he has the chance to stop you.

~~~

Somewhere between then and now, you’d fallen asleep. You wake up hours later and the sun has shifted to the afternoon angle that meant it no longer came burning through the window in the spare bedroom. The house is quiet but you can hear the sound of conversation downstairs, quiet voices and hushed tones.

When you open your bedroom door, the conversation becomes clearer - Rafe and Sarah.

“She’s not herself, why won’t you tell me what’s happened?” Rafe says, and you can hear the worry injected into his words.

“Rafe, I can’t tell you for her, you’ve just got to wait until she’s ready to talk about it,” Sarah explains, “It’s been years since you two have seen each other, you can’t blame her for not wanting to talk to you about stuff yet.”

“We used to talk about everything, I knew everything about her,” Rafe returns, “I’ve just… I’ve missed her. And I’ve come back but it still feels like I haven’t got her back.”

You feel the weight settle and flutter on your chest, a weird combination between wanting to run down to him and run away from it all. It felt weird to have Rafe back when you felt so distant from yourself. The closest to him you’d been in years and yet feeling like the furthest from you.

One of the floorboards creaks beneath your feet and their conversation quickly ceases. You take that as your sign to go downstairs, feeling a little more human now that you’d caught up on another few hours of sleep.

“Hi honey,” Sarah smiles warmly, “There’s a box of stuff for you on the counter.”

“Of course there is,” You roll your eyes at her and she laughs a little, “Thank you.”

It’s an unlabelled box, likely one of the small ones you’d used to move into the house in the first place. But you take the lid on top as a sign to not open it - whatever was in there you probably didn’t want to be thinking about now. It could be opened on one of your bad days when you needed to cry. Until then, it could definitely be ignored.

“Alright I’m just going to call John B and get him to pick up some dinner on the way home,” Sarah comments, walking out of the kitchen and into the lounge instead.

Rafe is leaning back against one of the counters, a red solo cup in his hand, his eyes looking down as he swirls around the liquid in the cup.

“I thought you stopped drinking,” You comment, gesturing to his hands.

He chuckles a little and looks up at you, “Yeah, yeah, I did. It’s just water. This was the first cup I could find.”

You nod and walk over to him, leaning against the kitchen island opposite Rafe so that you were facing him, your arms folding over your chest.

“So, how’s New York?”

Rafe smiles, “Very different from home. Sometimes a good different, other times not so much. Just a lot to get used to, you know?”

You nod in agreement but don’t say anything.

“Makes me realise how much I miss from home.”

Your eyes find his again and both of you smile just enough for it to be visible. The air feels warmer between you, warmer still every time your eyes meet.

“So, you moved back here, to the Outer Banks, glad to come home?”

“I don’t-“ You purse your lips for a second, “I did, when I first got back. I don’t know anymore.”

He’s silent in return and your eyes lose contact, yours flicking to the floor. Rafe stretches out one of his feet and nudges at your ankle, tapping you, “Hey.”

You look up and let your eyes return to his, his gaze softening as his words quieten. The tension in you seems to relax just enough.

“What happened, (Y/N)?”

You feel the lump reform in your throat, the way it seems to constrict any chance you have of speaking, the way your muscles feel weaker, like you could crumble there and then, “I don’t know.”

The words come out barely audible, scratching from your tongue as your bottom lip trembles a little.

“One day we were fine, the next he told me it was over,” You half-laugh because you’re certain it’s the only way you can avoid crying, though tears are already blurring your vision, “I don’t know what happened.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Rafe steps forward and pulls your arms from around your torso, guiding them around his back before wrapping his own arms around you too, letting your head bury onto his chest. He brings a hand up to your hair and keeps you close to him, tightening his hold on you as much as he possibly can.

You let yourself cry into him, tears staining the t-shirt as you grip onto the material at the back, holding him like you’re terrified that he’ll slip away too. Despite the way you need him to hold you, you’re sure that he needs you too - in the way his chin rests on top of your hair, the way he adjusts every few seconds as if reassuring himself that you couldn’t get any closer.

The pair of you stay like that for a short infinity, neither of you wanting to be the first to move, both of you certain that years of emotion is pouring into the single gesture, the single contact after years without. A short infinity.

~~~

That night, you sit down for dinner with Sarah, John B and Rafe. They all make sure that you fill your plate of food first, and encourage you to have the last slice of pizza. They look at you with a sense of relief on their features, like you were back just a little more than you had been. Rafe’s arm settles over the back of your chair, his other hand wrapped around a glass of water. He looks at you when you speak and chuckles deeply when you make a quiet joke. You feel the most human you’ve felt in years.

And when you go to bed that night, it feels less likely that you’ll be lying awake questioning everything, much more likely that you’ll sleep soundly. You change into your pyjamas - a baggy t-shirt and a pair of shorts - and get under the covers, tugging them up to your neck.

Just then, there’s a knock at the door, a little tap like it isn’t sure if it wants to be heard.

“Come in,” You announce, pushing yourself to sit up a little against the headboard.

It’s Rafe on the other side, only his silhouette visible against the dark of the room, the light of the corridor illuminating him from behind, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you,” He whispers into the dark, “I was just downstairs and I realised you left this.”

His hands are wrapped around the copy of your book, the pages slightly folded at the corner.

“Oh, right, yeah, I forgot it,” You smile, “Thank you.”

“You just, you normally always read before bed,” He continues, bringing it over as the bedroom door starts to shut slowly behind him, “Well, you used to, I don’t know if you still do that anymore, I just remember when you used to- I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”

You laugh a little and he sets the book down on your nightstand.

“So, you promise you’re okay?”

“I will be,” You return, watching as he stands awkwardly at the side of your bed, like he’s completely out of place, “Do you want to sit down?”

His mouth opens and closes like he’s not sure what to say but he nods, walking around to the other side of the bed and sitting down beside you, looking out of place still in his clothes from the day.

You’re both silent, illuminated by the slither of light coming through from the ajar bedroom door. On the far side of the room, there’s a vanity stretching across the wall, it’s scattered with a few of your belongings, and right in the middle sits the box that James had dropped off earlier.

Rafe nods his head in the direction of it, “So, have you opened that?”

You look at him and frown, “No, no I haven’t.”

“Don’t you want to know what he’s given you?”

You laugh a little, “I can tell you want to know. Go and get it, let’s open it.”

He chuckles and scrambles to stand up, grabbing the box and bringing it back over. Rafe settles himself back into the bed and sets the box down between the two of you, “Go on, you do the honours.”

You laugh and take the lid off. The box is only half full, littered with a few relatively meaningless things. There’s a couple of your tops, a jewellery box you took when you went on vacation, a couple of bracelets, a photoframe - empty, though that had once held a photo of you and James together.

“Holy shit! You kept this?” Rafe exclaims, picking up a shot glass that had been buried under a few things.

The glass had come from a night the two of you had snuck into the bar near the port. You’d managed to pick the lock on the door, spent hours just the two of you chatting and figuring out random drinks to make. Rafe had poured you shots of every liquor he could find and you’d shared each one, grimacing a little less with every shot as the alcohol started to take effect. You’d left some time after sunrise, managed to stumble your way down to the beach, and woke up hours later with the shot glass still held in your grasp. It had come with you to college, and came back when you moved back home. A little pocketed story that only you and Rafe knew.

“Of course I did,” You giggle, “That was a good night.”

Rafe traces his thumb around the top of the glass, “Yeah, it was I loved that night.”

“Do you remember it?” You scoff, “We were wasted.”

You remembered it. You were so sure he was going to kiss you, then. To kiss you for the first time that wasn’t controlled by a party game. To kiss you for the first time away from a party of laughing eyes. He’d looked at you like he was going to kiss you, but he never did. Though, when you slept, he’d linked his fingers with yours, squeezing three times before both of you fell asleep. His hand, just like the shot glass, had still been in yours hours later.

“I remember.”

The silence falls once again as both of you pick and pull at the rest of the objects in the box. Nothing takes much interest after that, but you find yourself instead drawn to what was missing.

“It’s not in here,” You mumble, pulling through the box one more time to check again.

“What isn’t?” Rafe frowns, “What’s not there?”

“It’s um-“ You clear your throat, glancing up at him, “It’s stupid really.”

He shakes his head, “It’s not stupid, what is it?”

“Do you remember that little giraffe I used to have? My nana got it for me when I was a kid, it’s not in here, and I couldn’t find it when me and Sarah got my stuff. It’s not here,” You frown again, taking out the shot glass and closing the lid on the rest of the box.

“Well, it’s got to be at the house somewhere,” Rafe shrugs, “We’ll find it.”

You half-laugh, setting the box down on the floor beside the bed, “What are we going to do? Break into the house?”

Your laugh continues but Rafe’s stops after a split second, shrugging his shoulders, “Let’s do it.”

You halt in your movements, looking at the way his eyes seem so set on you, like nothing could tear them away, “You’re serious.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

~~~

That’s how, within the hour, you’re walking up towards your old house, it looking eerie and dark in your absence, the flowers you’d planted outside looked dry even after a few days without you here and it bubbled a new sense of loss inside you, like a part you hadn’t thought you’d lose - a mundane part that just added to the rest.

“Do you still have a key?” Rafe hisses from beside you as you both walk up the driveway.

“No, I left it at home,” You return, glancing up at him.

“What?” Rafe raises his brows, “We came all the way here and yo-“

“Kidding,” You smile, pulling the key from your pocket, “This is still my house too until he settles everything.”

Rafe grins, “I like the way you think (Y/L/N).”

You step up to the door and go to unlock it. Rafe steps forward, his hand wrapping around yours before you can move. He looks at you and presses the index finger of his other hand to his lips, guiding his hand around yours to turn the key in the lock. The door creaks when it opens and you both wince, letting it close slowly behind you.

“Damn, this is a nice place,” Rafe whispers, glancing around the downstairs rooms of the house.

You look at him and roll your eyes, “That makes me feel better.”

He laughs quietly and clasps his hands together, widening his eyes at the quiet noise that seems to echo around the house, “So where are we going?”

“I don’t know where it would be,” You shake your head, “Maybe the lounge?”

He outstretches a hand, “Lead the way.”

You take Rafe’s hand in yours as the two of you go towards the lounge. You bump into the couch as you step into the room and he stumbles behind you, hands flying to your waist to stop you from falling.

“We’re not exactly pros at this,” Rafe laughs, letting you balance yourself again as you stand up, your back pressing against his chest.

You glance down at yourself, a baggy hoodie over a pair of shorts, a pair of crocs on your feet, and him, a pair of slacks and a checkered shirt with a couple of buttons undone. He steps back from you and glances around the dark room, pulling out his phone and flicking on the flashlight. It casts a circle of light across the room as you start to look around, noticing the empty spots where photos of the two of you used to decorate the space. There are a few takeout boxes sprawled over the coffee table and a line of empty beer cans, one of them rolling along the floor when you step beside it.

“I can’t see anything,” Rafe hisses, flashing the light in your direction before you squint at the sight, blocking the brightness from your eyes, “Ooh sorry I-“

You both freeze then as a light flicks on upstairs, the hallway light.

“Who’s that?” Rafe mouths in your direction and you look at him like it’s the worst thing you’ve heard, watching the realisation sink onto his face just a second later.

Before either of you can say anything, there’s the sound of feet padding down the stairs, picking up their pace as they near you. Rafe takes a stride across the room, bumping shoulders with you as he comes to a stop.

“Who the f-“ James rounds the corner, “(Y/N)? What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I ju-“

“Rafe?” James interjects, “What? Did you hear (Y/N) was single and catch the next flight back?”

“Hey, no, that’s not what-“ You begin again.

“Fucking unbelievable,” James interrupts you again, “What are you doing in my house?”

“Cut it out, asshole. Stop interrupting her,” Rafe cuts in, and you can instantly sense his change in demeanour, the way he shifts on his feet, “And this is (Y/N)’s house too, you got that?”

James scoffs, folding his arms over his chest, “What? So you brought Rafe here to fight your battles?”

“No, no,” You blush at the discomfort, “I just needed some of my things. Well, no, not some, just one thing actually, it’s stupid, just a little thing… I just-“ You swallow the lump in your throat, “Seb. He wasn’t in the box of stuff.”

“What? That weird giraffe thing you brought everywhere,” James scoffs, “That’s really that important?”

“Um,” You laugh a little to relieve some of the awkward tension clenching your chest, “No, I guess it’s not important but we were just talking, well, we were looking through the box and we realised it wasn’t there and Rafe, um, Rafe said-“

“Rafe?” James scoffs, “You’re kidding, right?”

“Seriously, man, cut it out,” Rafe repeats, stepping forward just a little as if he’s protecting you, not enough to block you off but enough for you to know that he was there, “I don’t care if you don’t think it’s important, you’re done making her feel bad for things she cares about - do you understand that?”

James lets out a laugh that seems to echo around the room and scratch at your ears, sending an uncomfortable shiver up your spine, “How the hell do you know what she wants? What’s this? The first time you’ve been home in how many years?”

“Yeah, well, good timing I’d call it. Something about some asshole that didn’t realise how lucky he was,” Rafe cocks a brow.

“Rafe…” Your voice is quiet, as if you’re shrinking into the room but he looks back at you and nods just gently, reassuring you. And you’re surprised when it works, settling the fear in your heart.

“So what? You think you come back and know everything about her? Like you’re some sort of knight in shining armour?” James scoffs, “You don’t know jackshit about her, let alone our relationship.”

Rafe laughs and steps away from you, narrowing his eyes at James before letting out a slow breath, shaking his head as he walks the length of the room, “Oh you really are an asshole.”

James doesn’t say anything, watching as Rafe strides the room, a harsh air about him you were sure he hadn’t shown in years, perhaps since he’d last seen you.

“You’re dating a woman like (Y/N) for nine years. Nine years. Nine fucking years you had her there for you - picking up the phone when you’d call, letting you complain about your bad days, not thinking to mention it when your cooking was terrible, always always thinking of you before anything else. And what? That wasn’t good enough?”

“This is nothing to do with you Cameron,” James defends, shifting his stance.

“You hurt (Y/N),” Rafe steps forward until he is less than a foot from James, staring at him coldly, “That means it does have something to do with me. In fact, it has a hell of a lot to do with me.”

You’re watching the scene unfold as if it’s fiction, as if this is a cross between a dream and a nightmare that you were about to wake up from. This Rafe isn’t the same boy that he was with you, he’s never this cold with you. But with someone that had done you wrong? He was a completely different version of himself.

He’s close enough to James now that you’re practically counting down the seconds until he’ll swing a fist at him, it’s inevitable. But you shift in your spot and he glances back to look at you, his eyes softening when they meet with yours. His brows relax and the features of his face do with them, settling into himself a little. His lips smile a little against the tension in his jaw and he takes a deep breath in, turning back to James.

“I don’t know what you’re doing. I don’t know what you think you’re gaining from all of this. But we’re gonna go now,” Rafe’s words don’t shift from their blunt tone, each word feeling calculated and exact, “And you’re going to go to bed, in a house that’s not fully yours, in a bed you used to share. And you’re going to wake up the next morning and the morning after that and again and again, and every time you’ll be on your own. You might not realise it now, maybe not tomorrow or the day after, but you’ll realise it. You’ll realise that every single day you’re waking up without (Y/N) here, you’re missing the one damn thing that made your life worth it.”

He clenches his jaw again and watches as James swallows the lump in his throat, his eyes flicking to you.

“Oh, here it is,” Rafe reaches down to the couch and picks up the toy giraffe you’d been looking for, holding it in his hand, “Good seeing you, James.”

He hits your ex on his chest as if a friendly gesture but it knocks James back just enough for him to be reminded of his place. Rafe looks back at you and offers you the same smile as before, offering you your exit as you make your way over to him. He lets you step in front and places a hand to your back, guiding you out of the house, slamming the door behind the two of you. And for the first time since you’d left this house days ago, you feel alive.

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[subskz]

pay attention - h.js

note: this is a reupload from my old blog

content: sub jisung, dom reader, jealousy, brat-taming (sorta), jisung is very childish, use of vibrators, edging, orgasm denial, slight exhibitionism, lots of begging, very light degradation/humiliation, reader’s sex is unspecified

word count: 5k

A loud, exaggerated huff met your ears for what must’ve been the thousandth time that day, and for the thousandth time that day, you ignored it.

Jisung was seated across the room at the kitchen table, his meal untouched and long forgotten in front of him. Instead, his eyes were locked on you, inwardly begging for you to just spare him a glance as you strolled around the kitchen, fully immersed in the phone call you were having with your coworker.

You had a major project due in just a few days, and you’d spent the better part of the past two weeks talking with your team members over the phone and meeting with them to work on it. Jisung hadn’t minded how busy you were at first. He was happy seeing you get along with everyone so well and working hard on something you were passionate about. At some point, however, that happiness had started to waver.

More specifically, the exact moment he came to realize just how often you seemed to be talking with a certain member.

Every time Jisung came across you chatting on the phone, it was with the same guy. He couldn’t help but begin to wonder irritably why a group assignment would require so much one-on-one interaction between the two of you, and he often found himself listening in on your calls with a bit more interest than necessary when you were nearby.

Things had only gotten worse from there, when he ended up making yet another unwelcome discovery to add to his sense of unease—that being, how often you tended to break out into laughter while talking with the other man. Jisung had grown used to being the sole object of your affection, with all your fond grins and playful eyerolls directed at him. As much as it wounded his ego to admit, it bothered him that there was someone else who could draw out your laughter the same way he could, the same way he prided himself on. 

“He must be pretty funny,” Jisung had commented one day after you’d ended your call, trying his best to appear nonchalant.

You’d put your phone down with a faint smile. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Not funnier than me though, right?” The words were out of his mouth before he could think to stop them, and he nearly cringed at himself for sounding so blatantly insecure.

He was met with a disbelieving snort from you, as if the thought wasn’t even worth considering. “No way,” you’d hummed.

That, coupled with the affectionate poke you’d given his cheek, had instantly made him relax. Jisung was grateful, as well as a bit ashamed, that you hadn’t caught wind of the thinly-veiled concern in his question. It seemed you had more faith in his maturity than he probably deserved.

As the week continued and your deadline drew closer, that brief period of reassurance had faded away little by little. Every time you left Jisung to go meet with your team members for hours on end, or took another call in the middle of what precious little free time you had with him, he felt more and more neglected. He knew it was selfish, but he couldn’t ignore the undeniable pit of jealousy that had been steadily building up inside him. It was like a constant, nagging itch that he couldn’t quite reach himself—you were the only one who could scratch it for him.

He would give anything for you to talk to him for longer than just a few minutes at a time or hold him in your arms without using your other hand to type away at your laptop. And on a deeper level, he craved the familiar comfort of your touch and your addictive words of praise in your more intimate moments together. Every part of his mind and body were crying out for your attention. To focus on him and only him.

He was, after all, every bit as needy as you liked to tease him for.

It was for that reason that when your phone had rung in the middle of your lunch, interrupting the first meal you’d been able to share together that week, Jisung had done away with his last shreds of common sense and decided that he’d reached his limit.

“Your food’s getting cold,” he called out, still not taking his eyes off of you.

You paused to glance over at him, and he felt his spirits lift just a bit as you flashed him a quick, sweet smile. “Just a second, Hannie,” you replied. “I’m almost done.”

The warm feeling in Jisung’s chest fizzled out as soon as you returned to your call, turning away from him and continuing to discuss the seemingly endless details of your project. He lifted his chopsticks to prod at his food half-heartedly, letting out yet another annoyed huff for no one to hear but himself.

Just as he was about to give up on convincing you to join him, the sound of your laughter filled his ears again, making his skin crawl with that same jealousy that had grown far too familiar for his liking in recent weeks.

Jisung stood up suddenly, pushing his chair back faster than he’d intended and creating a harsh squeaking noise that instantly caught your attention.

“Seriously,” he complained, not bothering to watch his volume. “Just hang up already.”

Your eyes widened at his outburst, and you pointed to your phone urgently in an attempt to get him to lower his voice. He made no effort to, however, a hurt pout forming on his face instead. “You’re supposed to be spending time with me, right? Tell him you have to go, I can’t wait any more.”

His whine echoed throughout the kitchen, and you covered the speaker of your phone with your hand, trying to mask the sound of it. “Jisung,” you scolded under your breath. “I told you, I’m almost done. This is important.”

“More important than me?” he mumbled.

You raised an eyebrow, thoroughly confused as to why he was being so difficult over something as silly as your lunch. Before you could say anything else, your coworker spoke up again through the phone.

“You there?” he asked.

“Yeah, sorry,” you replied, giving Jisung one last concerned look before preparing to continue the conversation.

Jisung’s pout morphed into a full-blown scowl as you brushed him off yet again.

“You don’t like me anymore,” he announced loudly.

Your head darted in his direction to give him a warning glare, but he held your gaze stubbornly, puffing his cheeks out in a way that would’ve been adorable if it weren’t for his behavior. A part of Jisung knew exactly how unreasonable he was being, but it paled in comparison to the other, which had become far too consumed with pettiness to care.

“Hey, give me a minute,” you told the man on the other line, quickly muting your phone.

Jisung shrank slightly into his hoodie as you made your way over to him, the exasperation evident on your face. “Jisung,” you began. “What’s up with you?”

He stuffed his hands into his pockets, giving a tiny, irritable shrug. “You’re ignoring me.”

“I’m not,” you retorted. “You know how busy I am this week, but it’ll all be over in a few days. Just be patient, babe.”

There was a pause, and Jisung looked conflicted, making you think for a moment that you may have gotten through to him. It was short-lived, however, as he furrowed his brows immediately after, unsatisfied with your reassurance.

“I don’t want to be patient anymore,” he grumbled. “You’re always with your team members, especially that one guy. And what’s so funny, anyway? Why are you always laughing with him?” Jisung’s voice rose in pitch, his habit of speaking too fast kicking in and turning his words into one, indecipherable ramble. “Seriously, you can’t even stop talking to him to eat with me.”

You pressed your lips together, feeling a faint tinge of guilt as you realized there was some truth to what he was saying. Though you’d certainly had your work cut out for you on this assignment, there was no need to let it take up your time to this degree, especially considering the fact that you had a whole group of people to help you out. On top of that, it was no secret how much Jisung thrived on your attention, and receiving so little of it for the past two weeks was bound to have taken a toll on him.

It was just like him, really, to feel like his place was being threatened over something as harmless as a work project.

Though you understood his feelings, you held your ground, too annoyed by the fact that he was being so ridiculously childish about it.

“Don’t be silly. We’re covering the same section, that’s why I have to talk to him so much.” You crossed your arms. “You know I’d rather be spending time with you than working.”

“Then pay attention to me.” Jisung whined, not missing a single beat. He reached out to tug at the sleeve of your shirt, and the needy gesture accompanied by his unfairly cute expression nearly made you falter.

You sucked in a deep breath, using all your willpower to resist his doe eyes. “As soon as I’m done,” you said sternly.

Jisung made a noise of protest as you brought your phone back to your ear, ready to unmute it. Without thinking, his hand flew up in an attempt to snatch the device from you, causing your thumb to miss its target and accidentally end the call.

Your face dropped as you realized what had happened. With an alarmed squeak, Jisung let go of your hand and backed away, immediately sensing that he’d gone too far.

You shut your eyes for a moment, gritting your teeth in an attempt to contain your frustration, and when you opened them again, you were met with Jisung’s guilty stare. He looked apologetic, but you didn’t miss the tiniest flash of gratification that crossed his features. The corner of his mouth twitched just slightly, almost as if to fight back a smile—almost as if he had secretly been hoping for this exact outcome.

He held his breath in anticipation as you eyed him with growing understanding. Jisung was so desperate to be noticed by you, to have your thoughts occupied with him for more than just a fleeting moment, that even your disapproving glare was enough at this point.

Something clicked inside you. Still, you studied his face a moment longer, just to ensure that you were reading the situation correctly.

“You want attention so bad?” you began slowly.

He nodded, tongue darting out to lick his lower lip in a way that made your heartbeat pick up.

“I need it.” His emphasis on the word was fully intentional. If you hadn’t gotten the message before, you certainly would have now.

You glanced down at your phone to check the time, then locked it with a heavy sigh that masked the excitement bubbling up inside you.

“Fine.”

You took hold of Jisung’s wrist, hardly giving him the chance to react before guiding him to the other room. He stumbled after you with little resistance, and when you came to a stop in front of the bed, he gave you a look that was all too eager.

“Undress,” you ordered.

Jisung hesitated, cheeks flushing at the sudden request.

“What’s the matter?” You tilted your head. “Since you’re so shameless today, go ahead and show yourself off for me.”

The scorn in your voice compared to your gentle reassurances from earlier made Jisung’s stomach flutter. His hands quickly reached down to grab the hem of his hoodie, pulling it over his head and tousling his hair in the process. He was wearing nothing else underneath, and you admired his lean frame with a quick onceover before motioning for him to remove the rest of his clothes as well.

Jisung’s fingers began fumbling with the waistband of his shorts, only for him to pause again. “Help me?” he asked with a pout.

You refused to let that pleading look of his get to you a second time. “Be a big boy and do it yourself.”

Your chiding earned an unhappy hum from him, but he complied nonetheless, pushing down his shorts and wriggling out of them along with his underwear.

“So worked up already,” you commented, shaking your head. “Does it get you off, acting like this? Aren’t you embarrassed?”

Jisung’s blush grew deeper, and he instinctively moved his hands to cover his half-hard length. He braced himself as you came closer—half-expecting you to touch him like he’d ached for so badly for days now—only to yelp in surprise as you gave his chest a light nudge that made him topple back onto the mattress.

“Stay just like that,” you commanded.

He sat up on his elbows, looking ready to object, but you didn’t bother to stick around and listen.

You headed towards the closet, already set on how you were going to deal with Jisung. He was going to get his wish, but you planned to grant it in a way that would leave him even more frustrated than before.

After some digging around, you were able to find what you were looking for—a hitachi wand and vibrating plug. Grabbing them along with a bottle of lube, you quickly made your way back to the bedroom where Jisung was shifting his weight anxiously from side to side. He parted his lips in surprise as he saw the toys in your hands, a nervous sort of arousal building in his chest.

“What are you gonna do with those?” it came meek, completely unlike his earlier, childish demands. 

“What you wanted.” You popped open the cap of the lube bottle. “Hannie needs all eyes on him, right? So I’m gonna sit back and watch while you entertain me.”

The whimper that left Jisung only solidified your decision, and he lifted a hand to paw at you. “Th-that’s not—” he began, cutting himself off when you moved out of his reach. “I…please, want you to touch me instead.”

“Such a greedy boy,” you clicked your tongue. “You should be quiet and take what you can get.”

Jisung let out a small, miserable noise before laying back down in defeat. Despite his protest, his cock hardened fully against his stomach as he watched you squeeze the lube onto the plug, lathering the toy until it was thoroughly coated.

“Spread your legs for me,” you directed.

He did so instantly, parting his thighs and raising his back off the bed just slightly to make things easier for you. Carefully, you lined the plug up with his entrance and prodded at it. Jisung exhaled heavily, trying to relax his body as you began pushing it in bit by bit. A shiver ran down his spine from the familiar sensation of being filled up, and he couldn’t bite back the soft, satisfied moan that escaped him.

Once it was fully inside, you gave Jisung’s cheek an approving pat. He squirmed around in the sheets as he adjusted, hissing lightly when the toy brushed against his prostate. You motioned for him to sit up, watching closely as he complied. It was exactly the kind look he’d missed, a look that made him feel like he was made for your eyes only.

As soon as he was upright, you brought the hitachi wand to hover above his length, making his breath hitch. “Please,” he squeaked as you pressed down on his already dripping head, smearing the droplets of precum around. “Don’t tease me.”

“You think this is teasing?” you hummed. “You’re in for a rough time, then, baby.”

At that, you pushed the button on the wand and it buzzed to life, earning a sharp gasp from Jisung. His whole body jolted as the vibration rippled through him, and you once again found yourself marveling over how sensitive he was.

You kept the vibrator steady, holding it against his tip just long enough for him to grow restless before beginning to move it in small, deliberate circles.

“M-more,” Jisung whimpered almost immediately. “Want more.”

“You’re hopeless, Hannie,” you scolded.

The boy groaned, pushing his hips up to emphasize his plea. You rolled the toy around his head as slowly as possible, taking pleasure in the tiny, frustrated noises that slipped out of him.

Without warning, you slid the wand along the underside of his cock, brushing against a particularly sensitive spot and making Jisung hiccup weakly.

You held it there for several seconds, focusing on the delicate area before pushing the button on the vibrator once again to increase its strength. Jisung’s hips fully bucked this time, the burst of stimulation catching off guard.

“A-ah!” he cried out.

“Is it good?” you asked innocently.

Jisung’s hands gripped the bedsheets, and he swallowed hard before mustering up a reply. “Hah...y-yes,” he mewled. “Touch me, please.”

“I don’t think so,” you drawled. “This is all a brat like you gets.”

You were met with another pitiful whine, and it only grew louder as you moved the vibrator away from his sensitive spot and down to the base of his dick. The toy pushed Jisung’s length against his stomach, smearing some of his precum against his skin.

“Please,” he tried again. “Wanna f-feel you. Miss you.”

For good measure, he blinked his eyes open to hit you with that irresistible gaze, embodying innocence even in moments like these. Still, you managed to hold on to your resolve.

“You asked for attention, and now you’re getting it.” you said simply. “If you keep complaining it’ll only get worse for you.”

Before Jisung could respond, you used your free hand to grab the remote control for the plug. A choked noise escaped him as you pressed down on the power button it began to vibrate inside him. He arched his back sinfully, the combined sensation of both toys making his head spin.

“Ah! Wait!” Jisung gasped. “So good…m-more,”

“Hm...which is it? You want me to wait or not?”

He shook his head frantically, squeezing his eyes shut. “No! P-please,” he whimpered.

“Poor baby can’t even think straight,” you cooed. “Is this too much for you?”

“Please,” he begged, louder this time. “Don’t stop, I’m almost—”

Jisung’s words morphed into a broken moan, and when his arms began to tremble, you knew that his high was already creeping up on him. Listening carefully to the sound of his breathing, you slid the vibrator back to the head of his cock to toy with it some more.

A shiver ran down his spine as you passed over his most sensitive spot once again, causing his whole body to quiver with effort. The moment you noticed him tense up, you pulled the wand away, earning a cry of protest from Jisung.

His eyes fluttered open in alarm, trying to process the sudden drop in pleasure in his scrambled mind.

“N-no...why’d you stop?” he mewled, adorably disoriented. “Was about t-to—”

“What’s wrong, Hannie?” you faked a pout. “I’m just trying to spend time with you for as long as possible. I can’t do that if I let you cum so soon.”

Jisung hiccuped miserably in response, grinding down on the plug vibrating inside him in an attempt to draw out his orgasm. “This isn’t f-fair,” he stuttered out. “You’re being so mean.”

You didn’t bother to deny it, instead watching in delight as he squirmed around, the desperation growing more and more evident on his flushed face. He shut his eyes again, trying to focus on the feeling of the toy pressing against his walls. With a frustrated whine, Jisung released his grip on the sheets and brought a hand up to length. You raised an eyebrow as he wrapped his fingers around it and began to stroke almost mindlessly, determined to do whatever it took to make himself cum. His hand moved at a rapid pace, and just as you were about to scold him for acting without permission, another strained groan spilled out of him.

“N-not enough,” he slurred. “S’not enough…I need you. Please, please, touch me.”

You reached forward to cradle Jisung’s face in mock sympathy. “It’s just not the same, huh, baby?” you murmured. “Maybe if you'd been a good boy, I would’ve played with your needy little dick for you.”

His moment of disobedience ended as soon as it began. With a mewl of defeat, he released his cock from his hold and dropped his hand back onto the mattress. You gave his cheek a condescending pat, satisfied with his quick surrender, and leaned back once more.

Jisung’s breath caught in his throat as you brought the vibrator to tease his tip once again. You gave the toy another click, changing the setting from a constant vibration to short, rapid bursts. Jolts of pleasure shot through him with each one, and he shot his hips up eagerly in an attempt to gain more friction.

“Hah—fuck!—please,” he gasped. “F-feels so good,”

Jisung was writhing again in no time, simultaneously trying to push forward into the wand and press down on the plug inside him. “Lemme cum, please,” he begged. “C-can’t take it. I’ll seriously go crazy.”

“That’s no good, angel,” you frowned. “I’ve only stopped once. Are you really gonna disappoint me? I thought you wanted to put on a good show.”

Your voice was sickeningly sweet as you taunted him, making Jisung lower his head in shame. “N-no,” he objected feebly. “Wanna be g-good. But I—”

“At least try to hold out after causing me so much trouble,” you cut him off, moving your wrist to roll the vibrator around the head of his cock. Jisung’s body jerked at that, and a loud hiss escaped him as the plug brushed against his sweet spot, sending him dangerously close to the edge again.

His mouth fell open when you pulled the toy away a second time, leaving his length to twitch uncontrollably against his stomach. “N-not fair,” he whimpered. “Good boy, ‘m a good boy, p-please.”

You simply grinned as Jisung’s high slipped away from him again, waiting patiently for his pants to die down so you could go right back to teasing him.

Suddenly, the sound of a third object buzzing filled the room, and you realized with a start that your phone was ringing against your thigh. You slid your free hand into your pocket and retrieved the device, your smile only growing when you read the Caller ID.

Jisung blinked his foggy eyes open curiously, his interest piquing when he noticed the delighted look on your face.

It was your coworker—probably calling to see why you’d hung up out of the blue earlier. A wicked idea came to mind as the phone continued to vibrate in your palm, and you locked eyes with Jisung.

“If you’re such a good boy, let’s see if you can behave for me this time.”

His expression morphed into one of pure alarm as your intentions became clear to him, and before he could say anything, you accepted the call.

“Hello?” The man’s voice rang out as you hit the speaker button.

“Hey,” you answered casually.

Jisung stiffened as you moved your other hand to ghost the vibrator over his cock. He gave you a panicked look, silently begging for you to show him some mercy. You contemplated for a moment before lowering the setting to a softer vibration, solely so that the sound of it wouldn’t be too obvious.

“Sorry about earlier,” you told your coworker, trying to keep the amusement out of your voice as you pressed the wand against the underside of Jisung’s dick. “My connection got cut off.”

Jisung gritted his teeth in an attempt to suppress a moan, and you gently began dragging the toy up and down his length.

“No problem,” he assured you. “We were almost done, anyway. But I just wanted to double check how the last few slides are gonna be presented.”

“Sure, what’d you have in mind?”

Your words were immediately followed by a poorly muffled whimper from Jisung, and his heart skipped a beat when he realized how loud it’d come out. Despite the fear of being caught, however, he couldn’t ignore the way his arousal skyrocketed over the possibility of being heard like this.

“Well, since we’ve got two more major points to cover—”

He was interrupted by another strained gasp from Jisung, and this time, it was noisy enough for him to hear. “What was that?” he asked.

“What was what?” you feigned obliviousness, grateful that he couldn’t see your eyes glinting with hunger as you took in the sight of Jisung. He was biting down on his lip like his life depended on it, the muscles in his abdomen flexing and unflexing in a desperate attempt to control his movements.

“P-please,” he whispered, struggling to manage his volume. “Can’t hold b-back, please.”

You tilted your head at him innocently before turning your attention back to your call. “So you want me to take one and you take the other?” you asked the man on the other line.

“Yeah, I think that works,” he agreed. 

You listened absentmindedly as he continued with the details, sliding the vibrator back up to Jisung’s weak spot. His back arched suddenly, and when he clamped his jaws shut to hold back an especially loud cry, you wasted no time before pulling the toy away once more.

The choked sob that escaped Jisung didn’t disappoint, filling you with satisfaction as it echoed throughout the bedroom.

Your team member paused, growing silent on the other end. “Are you hearing that?”

“Hm?”

“Dunno...just heard a weird noise,” he said slowly.

It took all your willpower to keep from giggling as Jisung gazed at you hopelessly, chest heaving and lips trembling. “Oh, it might just be my boyfriend calling for me,” you dismissed. “He’s in the other room.”

Another pause. “You have a boyfriend?”

“Mhm.” You didn’t miss the way Jisung’s features lit up adorably at your mention of him, even in a less-than-ideal situation like this.

“Oh. I’m surprised I haven’t met him before.”

“Well, he’s a bit shy.”

Jisung’s stomach flipped as you began inching the vibrator closer to his cock, prepared to mess with him yet again. “Please,” he whined, voice growing higher in pitch. “Please, please, please,”

You felt goosebumps form on your skin, your own adrenaline spiking over how shamelessly he was begging when he knew how easily he could be heard. You hesitated for just a moment before pressing the wand against him, teasing the underside of his length once more.

“Anything else you wanted to cover?” Your question barely masked the way Jisung cried out your name, so intensely that it made your own heart skip a beat. 

“Hmm...no, I think we’re good for now!” your coworker answered.

“Gotcha. Talk to you later, then.”

“Right, bye.”

At that, you ended the call. Jisung let out a long, filthy moan the very instant you did, and you finally allowed the snicker you’d been holding back to slip free.

“Hm...you did a pretty awful job at keeping quiet, baby boy.” you remarked. “Any longer and he definitely would’ve been onto us.”

You clicked the button on the vibrator to increase its strength once more, leaving Jisung unable to do anything but squirm pathetically. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to show him that you’re mine.”

Despite everything, his face flushed impossibly more, and you knew you’d hit the nail on its head. His thighs began to quiver weakly as his climax drew near, unable to contain the pleasure that shook his body any longer. Deciding that Jisung had suffered enough, you kept the vibrator pressed steadily against his cock, urging him to finally come undone.

“G-gonna!” he warned breathlessly, throwing his head back. He rocked his hips into the mattress, grinding down on the plug until he felt the hot tension in his core snap at last. “Cumming!”

He hardly got the words out in time before he was emptying onto his stomach, splattering the tan skin with pearly ropes of cum. Moan after moan spilled out of his parted lips as he was finally granted his release, sending waves of bliss all throughout his body.

Jisung continued squirming for several seconds, and you only pulled the vibrator away once the last few spurts of his seed had shot out of him and his calls of your name faded into quiet mewls.

You drank in the sight of him, admiring every inch of his spent form before reaching for the plug’s remote and powering it off. A long, content sigh escaped the boy as you did so, making you soften.

As soon as he managed to catch his breath, his hazy eyes refocused and met yours. You gave him a small smile, patting your thighs to beckon him over. “C’mere.”

He obeyed right away, crawling unsteadily into your lap and slumping his full weight against you. Careful not to disturb him, you reached down and began to pull the plug out little by little. He made a small noise of discomfort as you did so, and you murmured gently in his ear in an attempt to soothe him.

Once you’d fully removed the toy, you leaned over to place it on your nightstand, grabbing some tissues to begin cleaning his seed off his stomach. Jisung let out a sweet hum, nuzzling his face into your neck as you delicately dabbed away.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled sheepishly. “About...how I acted. I know you’ve been working really hard.”

You raised your other hand to cradle his head. “It’s alright, Hannie. You were feeling lonely, weren’t you?”

Jisung whined quietly in agreement, clutching on to your shirt as if you might slip away from him. “You’re not mad?”

“No, angel,” you answered honestly, planting a kiss to his damp hair. “I missed you, too, y’know.”

There was a pause, then you continued playfully. “But next time, don’t be such a baby about it.”

He lifted his head at that, furrowing his brows and curving his lips into an irresistible pout. “I’m your baby, though,” he huffed.

Your fond giggle filled Jisung’s ears, and he felt more ridiculous than ever as he noticed for the first time how your eyes sparkled when you laughed with him in a way they never did for anyone else.

#skz smut #sub!skz #sub!jisung #dom!reader #jisung smut #han jisung smut #han jisung x reader

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Red Rose - Michael Gavey x fem!reader

warning : fluff, hurt/comfort, implied bullying, kissing

Summary : A simple glance, a smile, a voice and a handshake. That was the first meeting and the time went on on their relationship. They bonded over the sweet little things until the time has come for the red rose and the final dance.

Info : So after a long time I'm back don't know how long because there is no motivation around me. However enjoy reading it and have fun :)

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The university, the year 2006 and love all came to the young student who started studying this spring. Together with unknown people, unknown professors and an unknown future that lay ahead of her.

Everything was new and different and yet she had vowed to graduate. She hadn't considered love or any connections for the time being. Of course she would make friends and somehow find love?

Well, she hadn't planned that, but who could plan their life down to the smallest detail? Because when she opened the doors to her lecture, hope for a good future in hand, the first thing her eyes fell on was a young man.

A pair of bright eyes behind glasses that looked at her curiously. ,,Good morning" was the next thing that reached her ears from the stranger, the small smile on his lips welcoming her. She returned his greeting as the two faced each other before shaking hands almost automatically.

His hand was warm and welcoming, not cold like the rest of this university of rich snobs who saw this as a game. ,,I'm Michael Gavey," he had introduced himself, his voice capturing her and making her forget the goals she had set for the lecture. The two of them waited together in the room where no one had taken applied mathematics.

But it seemed almost ridiculous that she sat away from him. But her eyes kept going back to him. He seemed to be able to solve each of his "tasks", which were more like a game or something boring for him. ,,When is the professor coming?" she had asked, wanting to keep it to herself but Michael had heard her.

Maybe that's why she had said it a little louder. She wanted to be heard by him. She wanted to see his eyes on her again and that little smile. As he waved her over to him, her own smile deepened as she came over to him and they sat on the slightly uncomfortable wooden chairs.

Their arms and legs touched every now and then. He helped her at some point and hours passed in which she understood better and better. Something the professor who came late and showed up at the end couldn't do. ,,Very well done Miss?" he praised her, she had caught himself not knowing her name.

Miss this formal address, the politeness, it didn't seem to fit in here. At least not in this time he was paired in another. One that was over...but in this time there was her. Someone to whom the mathematician had also lost his heart. He could hardly contain his joy, she didn't run out of the room again but stayed.

She might even return his love, she imagined, and it was the most beautiful thing that had happened to him. It was the beginning of so much more. The beginning of love.

The beginning of two people growing together in an environment that was against them. The chicanes to Michael only made them both stronger. ,,You know you're everything to me, Michael, don't listen to them," she told him, sitting down on his lap and placing his hands on her hips. She gave him a gentle kiss while he complained about the others who didn't see his genius while she agreed with him.

The trips they took together during their semester break were to ancient monuments that he had read article after article and book after book about. ,,But nothing beats your beauty," he winked at her and began to pursue his new hobby. The drawing.

He insisted that she sit down at the memorial and develop his new talent through his muse. Drawing after drawing emerged, each more beautiful than the last.

Picnics on campus during breaks, making and baking small delicacies together, feeding each other romantically, reading books and simply enjoying the togetherness.

It was the perfect time until they found each other again on the day that marked the end. ,,You look beautiful, my Rose," he said to her as he picked her up from her room. The dark red dress on her body suited him, even if one thing was still missing.

The red lipstick that matched the dress also looked sad on her. ,,You just more," she replied with a slightly curved smile and took out the red rose she had saved for him.

But before she could put it on him, his hands had wrapped themselves around hers. ,,Don't be, darling... I know you're scared but you don't have to be," his voice rang out as he guided her back into the room, where they both lay down on her bed and she lay in his arms.

She knew that once they both graduated, had this dance and held the paper in their hands that they would both be free.

But at what cost? ,,Will we stay together...when this is over?" she dared to ask, feeling fear running through her, not wanting to lose him, afraid that all this time was only bound to this place, but was it still love?

She felt him gently stroking her, trying to reassure her while he himself was wondering what to do. ,,My Rose, no matter what...I hope you know that I will always love you no matter what we do," he tried, because they both knew that they would go in a different direction.

Michael into math as a professor, he wanted to learn and teach and she into biology and chemistry, not quite math but a different place.

She flinched in surprise as he gave her a gentle kiss on the top of her head and continued to reassure her, giving the back of her hand a kiss. ,,A long-distance relationship? Or worse, what if nothing works?" she continued to ask the fear that he was lying about nothing being right was there and even though she could feel his rapid heartbeat she knew he would manage, that he always managed to reassure her.

She felt his rapid heartbeat. ,,So, my heart, we still have the whole world ahead of us and who says we have to work. Let's travel the world just the two of us," he suggested.

They both knew they couldn't stay in one place and they wouldn't. ,,Sure anywhere, just anywhere?" she asked, his kisses starting to tickle her as he kissed his way up her arm, his gaze full of understanding stopping at her lips.

,,Anywhere," he repeated after her before she overcame the last moments between them and kissed him, the two of them lying in each other's arms for a few moments enjoying their togetherness before she reached for the rose again and placed it on him.

He took her hand gently in his and they rose from the bed. And it seemed as if they both knew that no matter what happened when they walked out of the great hall and graduated, they would stay together forever.

~~~~~~~~

#saltburn #saltburn movie #saltburn 2023 #michael gavey #michael gavey x reader #ewan mitchell

[bumbleboa]

Some drawings for @calysto1395 ‘s future!AU in which Shinichi got his old body back, but not without serious health repercussions. I got to look over the first beginnings of her fanfic and I am in love with it, so now I am making it everyone’s business. I am also allowed to share some of it, read below:

Tokyo smelt different. Not a bad different. Just different. Heiji took it in, inhaling deeply as he stepped off the train and onto the busy platform of the main station. The air was getting sticky with the late summer heat overpowering the morning chill of early autumn. He’d arrived right around midday, everyone was bustling around in their suits to lunch breaks or home or to run errands and Heiji stood in the teeming current of people just watching. Tokyo always felt busier than Osaka.

“Oi!” A voice cut through the cacophony of noise around him and Heiji craned his head over the crowd to look for its source. 

Toward the end of the platform stood Shinichi Kudo, one arm raised half heartedly to get his attention. Heiji waved enthusiastically before tightening the grip on the bag slung over his shoulder and making his way over. 

“You could have warned me you were coming a little earlier.” Was all the greeting Shinichi gave him when he had braved the current of people that had tried to drag him back into the train that was departing for its next stop. 

“What and ruin the surprise?” He replied grinning and Shinichi rolled his eyes at him but there was a small smile too. “You look good.” Heiji added and slung his arm around Shinichi’s shoulders in lieu of a hug. 

Shinichi did look good. No mask for an ongoing cold, no strain around the eyes from pain. Even his pale skin seemed to have seen more than one hour of daylight in the past month. He was dressed casually - for him - meaning dark blue dress pants and a white button down without a tie. Still a matching suit jacket though, despite the climbing temperatures. Shinichi leaned more heavily on his cane to extract himself from Heiji’s hold. He had a new one, Heiji noted. Unassuming black material, glossy finish at the top and matte one on the bottom piece with a metal ring around the end. It wasn’t that new, it did have the odd scratch mark and dirt along that spoke of frequent use but Heiji hadn’t seen it before. 

“Where are you staying?” Shinichi asked as they got onto the escalator to the lower level, breaking him out of his thoughts. 

“Well,” Heiji scratched the back of his neck before giving his most charming smile. “I kind of hoped my best friend would have some room.”

#dcmk #detective conan #kudo shinichi #hattori heiji #haibara ai #do you know what a struggle it was to pick a scene to share so I just settled for the beginning #get your good good heishin fresh from the presses #anyways I have read a lot more of this AU and it is fantastic and I hope you al get to read it in the future #my art

[thatoneguydownthestreet]

Yo! I really love your apocalypse yuu writings I keep coming back to see if it has updated.

I read the Lilia finds out part and when I read the "Epel gave Yuu an apple and he didn't know what it was" it got me thinking about it all night.

How would the first years react to Yuu not eating anything at all(probably other than bread) because he doesn't know what those foods are?

________________________________

FEM ALIGNED DNI

Yuus pronouns are he/him, although they're mentioned briefly

This is barely proofread so please excuse the grammar mistakes.

Featuring: Epel, Ace, Duece, Jack, and sebek (there is implied lilia at the very end but it is literally one sentence)

Warnings: Talks of starvation, Yuu's illness, and survivers guilt, so skip this if you're uncomfortable with any of that.

Also I know it's been over a month. I have no excuse. I just didn't feel like it. But I have been teaching myself how to draw so I can be a bigger simp to Jamil so that's fun ig.

________________________________

Damn bro, you really don't know shit huh?

Epel was excited, to say the least.

I mean, could you really blame him? It's not everyday that you get a big ol' crate full of the apples that you were raised with.

By all means, epel should've been long sick of eating apples. Having them almost everyday for majority of his life, dried and dehydrated in the winter, and fresh and juicy in the spring and summer.

But no, no epel felmeir loves those apples. Every single one he ate seemed to effortlessly send him back to the simpler times of his childhood. Where he would send hours upon hours avoiding his siblings and playing games with his cousins in the orchards and taking naps in the sun while he waited for his meemaws infamous apple pies to finish baking. And meemaw would almost always let him have the first slice! Of the ones she wasn't going to sell at least.

He really missed her...

He'd have to ask her to bake him another one this winter.

But just getting to read the letter she had wrote, along with his parents and one of the towns kids that always followed him around like a lost baby duck, put a smile on his face.

Yeah. He'd get to see them soon, and once he graduates, he can get them more money, and be strong enough to protect them if it ever came to that.

Unfortunately, as great as his parents apples were, they couldn't fight the natural forces of time.

Dear sevens- they'd sent him nearly three dozen apples! All high quality too... it shouldn't effect sales too much. The orchards were big, and his parents would rather give up that expensive family heir loom necklace that his mother always wore than start selling spoiled apples.

But still, epel couldn't possibly eat thirty-six apples before they all started to rot. Plus, he didn't know how long they took to ship to the isle of sages, so that cut the time frame even shorter.

.....Does Jack like apples?

Should he even be considering giving Jack an apple to begin with? Their relationship was pretty vague. We're they actually friends or just study buddies?

Study buddies can give eachother gifts too right? And plus, it's food, not a 24 carrot gold ring or something crazy like that.

It should be fine. Maybe he'll give one to ace too. They were friends. Surely.

.

.

.

Ace trappola would say he was a good friend. I mean, he wasn't the best by any means, but he was decent.

Yeah, he could be kind of a dick. But who isn't at this point, honestly, even deuce, even cater had their moments.

But he was still someone the people in his life could go to for things, usually physically, tangible this like food or an extra ball or something, but he wasn't completely useless when it came to emotions either.

You could come to him if something was bothering you. He probably won't help you actually fix it but he can at least make you laugh.

So why didn't you want to laugh?

You had taken your mask off a few weeks ago. And like a bucket of ice cold water had been dumped on him he realized it was the first time he ever saw you eat any food here at all.

Were you eating at all before then? What about water?

Thank the seven you were only here for around a week. But surely, you were dehydrated.

(You were definitely dehydrated. Deuce gave you a water bottle and you chugged it like it was your only chance at life. Which, to be fair, it probably was your only chance at life.)

Ace didn't know what your life was like before.

Ace didn't want to know either.

He didn't do well with heavy topics, always changing the subject when one came up unless he was personally involved in some way.

Other people life didn't concern him, and that was something he lived by.

...but still.

This was going a bit too far, don't you think?

Ace shot a look to deuce, clear concern instead of the regular teasing, which caught his roomates attention faster than he thought it would.

Ok. So deuce had noticed too.

Just goes to show how obvious it was that something is very wrong here.

Now, because ace had never asked, and he probably never will, he didn't know what your relationship with food was like before you came here. But. It couldn't have been this right?

A person couldn't only survive on some bread and room temperature water, right?

You sat across from him at your guy's unofficial table in the cafeteria, drinking the water at a moderate pace, as you didn't want to deal with another scolding from a certain housewarden, doing your best to keep a careful eye on grim as he went to go get his food from the lunch line.

And thank the seven for that, really. If grim turned back and saw that you weren't watching him for even a second, who knows that kind of ruckus would result?

But all that aside, you were still scarily underweight. Seriously perfect, how were you even alive?

Ace looked at deuce again. Deuce looked back.

He sighed.

Ace never, ever thought he would do something like this.

But for sevens sake, you were one of his best friends. And Ace will be damned if he just let you do this to yourself.

So with a deep breathe, he looked at you, and then turned back to what he was pretty sure was an ex-gang member, and nodded.

And for once, deuce understood.

They had to do something.

.

.

.

You reminded Deuce Spade of that stray cat that his mother would always feed when he was a child.

Underweight, scared, scarred, and confused.

Always having an air if caution and paranoia, ready to react, as if anything could just jump out and grab you at any time.

But you weren't a cat, were you?

No. You were a person. Someone his age, maybe younger, that had obviously seen horrors he couldn't even understand. Which just made this whole situation even sadder.

Because if you lived like this, then what the hell was stopping him? What about his mother? What was stopping her from having the same fate?

Duece ignored the memories of his mother giving him food and taking none for herself, saying she wasn't hungry.

But he couldn't quite ignore them, nor could he ignore the pit in his stomach whenever he looked at you.

...Listen perfect, he doesn't know what you went through to be like this, but he knows damn well this isn't normal.

It can't be normal. Hiding this much food underneath your floorboards couldn't ever be normal.

The two of you were just hanging out in your room in Ramshakle. Grim was in the lounge, he was sure, and you had stared off into space before asking the date.

When he told you, you had a look of slight panic as you ripped the rug off from its place on the floor, and started pulling apart the boards.

And what for?

The reveal of a large stash of food, mostly non-perishables, but a few snacks here and there too.

Snacks that were about to expire, apparently.

You turned to look back at him, a sheepish look on your face, and what looked like a bag if chips in your hand.

Deuce didn't know what face he was making.

He just knew it wasn't one he'd want you to see

.

.

.

If someone were to ask Jack howl if he was your friend. He wouldn't know to to say.

I mean yeah, you helped save his entire dorms ass way back when, yeah, you and him absolutely went throught it during azuls little "episode", and yeah, the two of you had plenty of mutual friends.

But we're the two of you friends?

Jack wasn't sure.

Because by all accounts, you should be.

It didn't change the fact that you weren't. Not really. Not by his definition and not by yours.

So what were you?

Well, you weren't friends. That was already established. And you were too close to be acquaintances (he didn't think acquaintance fell asleep on each other in the botanical gardens, only to wake up five minutes till curfew and just haul ass back to their respective dorms with smiles on their faces), so...what did that leave?

Well... I guess it left this.

"Eat it"

"....huh?"

Jack didn't know you that well. But that didn't mean he couldn't see..this happening. And it definitely didn't mean he didn't care.

So here he was. Holding a pastrami sandwich about an inch away from your face, silently begging you to just shut up and eat it.

Come on perfect, he bought this with his own money. Just humor him, please.

You eyed the sandwich like it was the most untrustworthy thing you'd ever seen. Jack's not going to lie, it kind of hurt.

But it wouldn't matter if you ate it, so he sucked it up.

...at least he would if you'd actually take the fucking sandwich.

Seriously, it was starting to tick him off.

Jack briefly considered just varying off and giving the sandwich to ruggie or something, or just eating it himself. He wasn't the biggest fan of pastrami but who knows, maybe the school made it better.

Honestly, he probably would have done just that if the image if you leaning against the wall looking ready to pass out from, what he knew, was malnutrition.

The event itself actually happened around two weeks ago, give or take. Jack thinks the only real reason he remembers it so well is because, well, it was the moment.

The defining moment, the moment where it just clicked that something was very wrong here.

He already knew that of course, I mean, look at you.

But as it turns out, watching someone actively starve to death in front of you will keep you up at night.

His mind turned to ruggie for a split second, before forcibly shoving that thought down where all the other thoughts he didn't want to think about were.

Like that time when he was a kid with a crush on Vil....yeah, Jack's happy he got o er that one to say the least. Nothing against Vil, he's a great friend and all (they were friends right?), but them in a relationship? Yeah. No. Not happening. No thankyou.

...yeah.

Jack mentally slapped hi.self and proceeded to shove his weird thoughts down yet again and refocus on getting his not-quite-friend to eat.

You were leaning back a lot farther than you were a second ago, if you did that anymore you'd probably just end up on the ground.

...jack sighed. This was going to take a while wasn't it?

By the end of the lunch period, you had come to a compromise, jack you slip the sandwich with you and take the other half for himself.

You ended up splitting your half with grim, who reluctantly took it. You had actually eaten yours too!...after you took the while thing apart and inspected and obsessed over it like how he'd seen Rook do to his housewardens that one time!

But still, it was something.

It was a start. And that's really all he could ask for at this point.

.

.

.

Sebek didn't notice anything about you at first. And he didn't particularly care much either. He was a guard for sevens sake! He had a deep responsibility!

He had a crown prince, that he oh so admired, to protect! Not to mention silver, who he had to wake up at every given turn, and not to mention Lilia, who had recently been going harder on their training sessions.

So to waste his time with a human? With a weak little human that didn't even come close to his current list if priorities?

That's time he simply did not have!

...So why was he here?

He was supposed to be looking for his charge. His charge, who always seemed to wind up around the old, abandoned Ramshakle building and just dissappear in the nick of time.

It had been happening more and more lately, especially since that new perfect moved in.

He would be lying if he said he cared too much about him. Again, he didn't have time to be curious about some strange human boy with some strange past.

But still, he couldn't quite contain the way he jumped back when he'd first seen them.

Whoever he was, he looked so...sick.

...he didn't have time for this.

Turning back on his heel, he refocused his mind on finding his lord again, and quickl- wait- silver. Oh great sevens. Silver wake up!

Ok. Sebek really didn't have time for this.

...and yet.

Here he was, standing next to you, arms out ready to catch you at a moments notice if you really were going to collapse like he thought you were.

He hadn't been this close to you before.

And now he could see that you weren't just sick.

Great seven, you looked like you were dying...

Sebek zigbolt had always known humans were weak, fragile creatures. Never able to even light a candle next to faeries. Never able to light a candle next to him, and certainly not his young master.

But this was just pushing it.

Sebek was stronger than his human counterparts. He would long outlive them. He thought of silver for the shortest second and then quickly pushed that thought to the side. This was not the time. Buteven with those facts, sebek still knew that humans weren't made of fine glass. Even if the people in his homeland liked to act like it, Sebek still knew that humanity wasn't completely hopeless.

One strong gust of wind wouldn't knock them over.

One missed meal wasn't enough to do detrimental damage to their health.

Pulling one all nighter would barely put a dent in their day to day lives, aside from the obvious fatigue and.

But with you?

With you? Alwats looking like you could kneel over and die then and there on the classroom floor?

...

Sebek want so sure anymore.

.

.

.

Epel had eaten more apples than any normal person should ever be able to eat.

Sevens help him, his stomach.

Despite the waves of pain that shit through him every now and then, epel wasn't mad.

Yeah, maybe eating a whole eight apples in the span of two hours wasn't his smartest idea, but the sweet nostalgia that seemed to wash over him and warm his very soul? Yeah no, it was worth it.

So no. Epel felmeir wasn't mad.

And laying in a bed that was much too soft for his taste, a direct contrast from the slightly itchy blankets and the hard mattresses back home, epel glance over to the almost empty crate of apples that were sitting just under his work desk.

...As much as Epel wanted to eat them, he wanted to do this even more.

Epel sat up, ignoring his stomach pain the best he could, and began a mental list of all the people he knew. And then a silent debate over who deserved his families apples in the first place.

Ok. First up Ace.

Epel would say they were friends. Not close friends by any means, but friends nonetheless.

Epel could give him one.

Next was Jack.

...In all honesty, epel didn't know. We're they friends, or just simply homework buddies that occasionally hung out?

...he could spare one for Jack, maybe they'd be friends then if they weren't already.

Duece.

Yes. Just- just yes. That day on the beach had changed their relationship forever. Duece was like a brother to him at this point.

He was goddamn getting an apple.

Epel chuckled a little at the realization that he was treating this like one of those elimination gameshows his meemaw liked.

Ok...he had two apples left after that.

Sebek wasn't really his friend was he? He certainly didn't make it seem like he was. If anything, Sebek was trying his damnedest to make them all belive the exact opposite, really.

....maybe he should just give the apple to Rook.

Or Vil.

Maybe.

Ok. He has one apple left.

The two of you weren't really friends. But you were friendly. If nothing else, you had been nothing but kind to him so far.

And plus, you looked uh. Half dead. To put it nicely.

And so, with a smile on his face, epel took out the crate of apples and began placing them on a bag that would make them easier to carry around tomorrow.

He couldn't wait.

.

.

.

It's funny how your whole life can change in a single moment, especially when you don't even know what that moment was.

Why were you here? Where is here anyway? Surely, magic didn't exist right?

The air wasn't always this clean right?

Water wasn't readily available at the turn of a handle right?

People didnt...people werent...weren't....

Heh. Heheha.

Why.

Why were you here?

Why were you here?

Why you and not one of the kids? What the hell have you ever done but use up medical supplies in a fruitless effort to keep you alive.

Why was this world so...pretty. happy. Clean.

Why this world and not your own? What had this world ever done to deserve this luxury of life.

...What had yours?

What had you?

Out of all the base commanders, the medics, the farmers, or children, or any of the other apprentice kids that you sometimes had to work with.

You were here. And they were still trapped inside of that hell.

...You didn't deserve this.

You died. You were on that beach and you died.

You woke up in a coffin, but something told you this wasn't the afterlife.

That something being the blood that you coughed up the other day.

It wasn't from internal bleeding, you k ew that much. Rather, it was from you coughing so hard that something in your throat had ripped.

It really didn't matter. You had spent nearly half an hour in a panic, choking and trying to unclog your airways, while grim and the ghosts you had come to somewhat love, stood behind you, offering what little comfort they could.

It wasn't the first time this happened after all.

You were still bedridden for a good two days after that. Thank God for the weekend.

Time passed in a blur while you were like that. It always did, mostly because you were asleep ninety percent of the time. The other twn being dedicated to medicine and a vain attempt to get food you knew you couldn't stomach to stay down.

So no. This wasn't the afterlife.

It was just a beautiful second chance that you didn't deserve.

It was so confusing.

And this was so confusing.

What..is this weird red thing being handed to you?

Epel looked at you with a hopeful expression on his face. It reminded you of the little girl you used to look after...

You take the..thing.

Glancing over to your right, you watch Ace take a large bite out of it with a smile on his face.

Ok. So not poisonous. Good to know.

You saw Duece do the same thing.

You felt Jack staring at you, but you didn't dare look at him.

#twisted wonderland #twst x male reader #twisted wonderland x male reader #twisted wonderland x reader #ace trappola #ace trapolla x reader #duece spade #Duece Spade x reader #epel felmier #epel x reader #jack howl #jack howl x reader #sebek zigvolt #sebek x reader #these are more platonic tbh #if that #apocalypse yuu #thank you for coming to my ted talk #twst x reader #this has been in my drafts so long that it might as well be a fossil

[haileyywrites]

hi!! how are you? i adore your writing and i was wondering if you could please write a bit of fluff! in which the reader gets overwhelmed and starts crying because their boyfriend is too sweet, nice, caring and cute. with anyone from genshin of your choice!

Summary: You become overwhelmed and cry from your boyfriend being too sweet, nice, caring and cute!

Pairings: Kaveh x Gn!reader

Notes/Warnings: Reader is completely gender neutral and not described in any way! Poc friendly! Just pure fluff! Reader cries but it's sweet and fluffy! Possible grammar errors!

You had always known Kaveh to be an incredibly kind human being; from the very first moment you met. Someone had rudely bumped into you which caused your items to fall from your hands, the person didn't even bother apologizing before continuing on their way. Kaveh happened to see the interaction and rushed over to help you - he even tried shouting after the person to apologize to you, but they didn't listen.

You appreciated the effort and his kindness nonetheless; he even offered to buy you some food to cheer you up! Though you protested against it, he managed to win you over in the end and he took you to a nice nearby cafe. You could see him eyeing at the prices with worried eyes and a strained smile, you could obviously tell he had some financial problems making his kind offer even more touching. You decided to order the cheapest item you liked and spent the afternoon with him just talking, god you could talk for hours with him!

Falling for Kaveh was the easiest thing you did in your life, but sometimes you wondered how it is you managed to get with him? With his looks and heart of gold you would think him to be more popular with suitors all over him; but no. The people in the Academia you understood as they were usually solely focused in their research, but he was so kind to everyone! Excluding his roommate whom he talked to you about, but didn't let you meet. Somehow Kaveh was a simple rock with gems hidden within, but others didn't seem to look deep enough to get to know him.

He may have not been that good with money, but he always finds other ways to treat you. One of his favorite things to do together is to go for a walk outside of Sumeru city and go sightseeing with you; he always finds the best spots too! Whether you're a morning person who he would go watch the sunrise with or a night owl who preferred the sunset, he will do whatever to make you happy. Seeing you be happy makes him beyond happy and it absolutely melts your heart!

There were many times in the past that almost caused you to burst into tears from him being too kind and sweet or too cute for you to handle! His tendency to draw in animals was strange, but so incredibly adorable. Stray cats would show up whenever you were sitting around and dogs would run up to greet you two - even birds would come closer to him than anyone else! Seeing him give in and pet or play with them was beyond cute!

He was also always so sweet and caring, he would never forget things you liked or cared about! If you needed space when upset he would give it to you; but if you wanted comfort he would be there in an instant with food or snacks he knew you loved. His kindness was also a bit of a flaw as he didn't want to think people would be terrible enough to use charity as a cash grab - which is why he often fell for them. This especially made you upset, but it didn't make you cry like today did.

Seeing the sky becoming darker and darker as your shift was beginning to end worried you, you had neglected to bring an umbrella as it had been clear all day before now. You would have to make your way to the other side of the city while getting completely soaked from the rain; not an ideal scenario. You though about staying until the rain stopped, but you had made plans with Kaveh today right after work and hated the thought of leaving him to wait for you without warning.

You sighed heavily as you changed back into your everyday clothes and prepared yourself for the downpour waiting for you outside, you said a quick goodbye to your colleague before heading for the door with a sad expression. The rain was as heavy as a shower or a bucket of water that was being emptied over you, you shivered as the cold outside air made contact with your skin. This was just your luck...

Out in the rain you could see a figure running full speed towards you, you wondered what kind of maniac was outside in this weather - until you recognized him. It was Kaveh! He held a red umbrella to shield him from the rain and wore a jacket that he usually didn't; it was one of your favorite clothing that he owned, but it was usually only on him during colder days like today. Seeing you he ran faster and almost bumped into you as he came to a halt!

“Thank the Archon's! I'm so glad I cought you before you left!” He said with a relieved smile.

“You came to get me?” You asked in a surprised tone.

He nodded his head as he handed you the umbrella he was holding and stripped off the jacket he was wearing; which he quickly handed to you. He had specifically brought it for you...

“Of course! I thought you probably didn't think to bring an umbrella with you today, so I couldn't possibly let you walk home and get yourself sick from this weather!” He said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Kaveh helpped you put on his jacket before smiling proudly when seeing you in his clothing; it was warm and smelled like him, the fabric was also incredibly comfortable. Everything about it made you feel so incredibly touched... The fact that he came to get you to make sure you didn't get soaked from the rain to bringing you his jacket and looking so proud when you wore it. You couldn't help, but to burst into tears from the sheer kindness and sweetness - the love and thoughtfulness.

Seeing you cry made Kaveh panic and instantly ask if you were okay, he asked if he did something that made you upset and if there was anything he could do to help you while still keeping the umbrella over you to cover you from the rain. It probably made you cry harder seeing him be so frantic and stumble over himself trying to calm you down - he was too cute for his own good! He was just too kind and caring of a human being that it was bound to make you burst into tears one day.

“I'm sorry, you're just too sweet!” You sobbed.

“Wha... What?” Kaveh asked in confusion.

“You're so sweet and kind! It's making me feel so loved!” You cried louder.

“Honey, I don't know what to say...” Kaveh laughed lightly while looking a bit bashful.

“You're also too cute!” You covered your eyes with your hands and continued to cry.

Kaveh stepped closer and pulled you in for tight hug, his hand was wrapped around your back, while the other was steadily holding his umbrella over you both. He let you cry your fill against his shoulder; with his hand running up and down along your back in a comforting manner. By the time you were finished crying rain had calmed down a bit to a pleasant soft shower.

Kaveh let go of you gently and wiped away the remaining tear stains from your cheeks, you both lightly laughed about the situation. Being this close you noticed how his eyes sparkled with so much love that you couldn't help, but lean in for a short yet sweet kiss. After you separated Kaveh held up the umbrella between you and encouraged you to place your hand over his; not only to adjust the umbrella so that it was comfortable for you, but also to hold your hand as he walked you home.

A/N: Hii, I'm doing well and thank you for asking Anon <3 Hope you're doing well too; remember to stay hydrated! Thank you so much for the request btw, your words are so kind! I really hoped you liked this, but if you didn't feel free to request again ^-^ I spent a lot of timing thinking which character to pick, but in the end Kaveh felt like the obvious choice lol I will soon be posting request rules - incase you or anyone else would like to request something in the future!

[Feel free to like, comment and or reblog! Any interaction with this post is greatly appreciated <3]

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact fic #genshin impact kaveh x you #genshin impact kaveh x reader #genshin impact kaveh #kaveh genshin #kaveh imagines #genshin kaveh #kaveh fluff #kaveh #kaveh x reader #kaveh x you #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact empyrean reflection #kaveh empyrean reflection #empyrean reflection #empyrean reflection genshin impact #genshin impact fandom #gn!reader #gn reader #genshin impact gn reader #genshin impact x gn reader #<3

[ihavemanyhusbands]

can you write something where reader goes to the bear on a date w some asshole who turns out stood you up and made you seem like an idiot for sitting there alone waiting for him to show up for nearly an hour all the while Richie aka FOH rockstar is constantly checking in on you and fuming inside bc how could anyone be so fucking mean and rude to such a perfect girl?!? You end up staying anyways cause you know this reservation was hard to get and you’re not gonna let the restaurant loose money but also obv you’re not gonna leave without trying the food hello…but also cause Mr. FOH rockstar in the nice suit is vvvv charming and you wanna know all about him…..And Richie ends up comping your whole meal and giving you extra dessert <3 and maybe you leave your number on a napkin for him idk

I just know S2 Richie would be such an angel omg ❤️

——

Richie made no comment as he poured you a second glass of wine. He saw you glance at your phone and how your face fell a little at the lack of notifications.

He looked at the empty chair across from you and shook his head just a little in disbelief. You hadn’t ordered anything yet and it had been over an hour since you’d gotten there.

He hated seeing you looking so dejected, especially since he’d already seen your smile directed at him a few times. You seemed so hopeful at the beginning of the night, a lively gleam in your eye.

He’d been extra attentive with you, but tried not to seem too overbearing. The more time passed, the more your shoulders slumped. At some point, you stopped glancing at the front entrance.

He had the biggest urge to punch whatever motherfucker had stood you up and curse him out for being so ungrateful. But instead, he gave you a small smile as you thanked him for the wine, and he decided he was going make sure that the rest of your night was better.

"You know, the chef's special tonight is not one you want to miss," he said, drawing your interest. "An impeccable short rib ragu with pappardelle and pecorino Romano. Pairs real well with what you're drinking, actually."

Your stomach grumbled at his description of the food. You'd been eyeing the dishes people had ordered around you, but you'd denied yourself all of it while you waited. You sighed in resignation, mustering your best smile for him, grateful for his generous attention.

"That sounds lovely, I'll definitely get that," you said, trying to ignore how your eyes were stinging. “Thank you.”

Again, he felt a stab of hatred for that stronzo. He now also felt the urge to kneel down in order to be eye level with you, so he might wipe your tears away if they fell. But of course, there was no way he could fucking do that.

“Comin’ right up,” he said with a wink, striding back into the kitchen.

When he returned, he stalled until you took your first bite so he could see your reaction. Your eyes widened as you hummed in the delight, momentarily forgetting everything else.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” He smiled.

“Oh my God,” you agreed with a nod, smiling a little more genuinely. “You were so right.”

“Only the best of the best for you,” he said. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

You couldn’t help but blush at his words, glancing at his retreating form. You chowed down with gusto, occasionally looking up and meeting his eye across the room. You had to admit he was very handsome, not to mention charming.

You appreciated the fact that he had been so kind to you. Sure, maybe it was all part of his job, but the interest felt genuine to you. Maybe getting stood up wasn’t the worst thing in the world, wounded ego aside.

He brought out a special dessert that he confided was not on the menu, and once more he made your skin tingle slightly with a wink.

By the time you finished, you felt much better than you had in the past two hours. You waved him over to ask for the bill, but he shook his head.

“No bill tonight,” he said, placing a hand against his chest. “It’s all on me.”

“What?” You asked, genuinely confused. “I mean I— I just… really?”

He chuckled. “Yes, of course. As long are you are satisfied and content, that’s all that matters here.”

You blinked, then laughed a little incredulously.

“More than that. I think this might be my new favorite restaurant,” you said. “Do you have pen and paper?”

He pulled out a small notepad and a pen from his back pocket, handing it to you. You wrote down your name and phone number, then doodling five stars underneath.

“I hope this isn’t too forward,” you said coyly, handing it back to him.

“N-not at all,” he beamed, his cheeks growing redder. “I was actually hoping you would.”

——

#richie jerimovich fanfiction #richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich blurb #the bear fanfiction #the bear x reader

[genshinluvr]

The Soul Puppet 2

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: After the incident with the two ancient gods possessing your body and using you as a vessel, you were left to battle for your life as you're hanging by a thread. The Adeptis soon infuse you with Adeptal energy to save your life, only for it to go downhill from there.

Note: I didn't plan on making a part two of The Soul Puppet because it ended perfectly where it did, but some people wanted a part two. The reader was supposed to die in the first part, but because of the miraculous Adeptial energy, they're alive but are still suffering. This fic is shorter than the first part because there's not much happening in the story other than the aftermath, sort of. There isn't much angst in this fic. It's almost nonexistent. Anyway, I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Mentions of death, mentions of vomiting, mentions of possession

Word Count: 7.2k

Read Part 1 of the Soul Puppet: [HERE].

Ever since two ancient gods took over your body, you have been in the worst conditions the men have ever seen. You were barely conscious, you barely ate, and all you would do was sleep, sleep, sleep. You were so fatigued that you couldn’t take care of yourself, nor could you get yourself to speak. You received twenty-four-hour care from the men and were under constant surveillance. 

Scaramouche stands beside Tighnari, watching the man scribble something on the paper. Scaramouche frowns, seeing your pale, almost lifeless body tucked beneath the blankets. At the same time, Kaveh sits beside your bed, wiping away the thin layer of sweat from your forehead with a handkerchief. You’re shivering and letting out occasional weak coughs.

“Do you think they could survive this?” Scaramouche mutters to Tighnari.

The scratching of the pen ceases as Tighnari looks at Scaramouche. Tighnari hums, lightly tapping the pen on the clipboard. That is something Tighnari can’t be sure of due to your conditions. You’ve been suffering for so long, and the longer the men care for you, the more it feels like they’re torturing you by keeping you alive. 

Tighnari sighs, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know. Their body has taken such a beating that I’m not sure if I want them to be alive or not,” Tighnari says.

Kaveh gasps, dropping the handkerchief on your pillow from shock. Tighnari and Scaramouche look at Kaveh, who’s staring at Tighnari in disbelief. Kaveh stands and walks to where the two men are standing, glaring at the dendro user. 

Kaveh’s face pinches with anger before poking Tighnari in the chest. “How could you utter something like that!? Do you want [Y/N] to be dead?!” Kaveh demands, clenching his fists so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

“He’s not implying that, Kaveh. Calm down,” Al Haitham interjects.

Al Haitham enters your bedroom with Dottore and Dainsleif following behind. Dottore begins checking on your condition while Dainsleif and Al Haitham stop before Kaveh. Kaveh runs his hands through his hair, shaking his head. Kaveh huffs and returns to his spot beside your bed, picking up the handkerchief on your pillow and continuing to wipe the sweat from your forehead.

“They look even worse than before. Do you really think the sigils will keep the evil at bay?” Dainsleif murmurs, crossing his arms over his chest.

Dottore chuckles bitterly. “Evil at bay? The last time I checked, the two ancient gods are no longer using [Y/N] as their vessel.”

Dottore grabs your arm and begins feeling around your arm for a vein. Dottore wraps a tourniquet around your arm, pulls a syringe out, and draws your blood. Since the incident, Dottore was tasked to draw your blood once a week to examine it under a microscope. He has to make sure there’s nothing toxic in your blood that could potentially kill you. Even though you’re kind of on the brink of death.

“How much longer do you think [Y/N] can hold on? Every day, when time passes, they’re slipping from our fingers,” Diluc says, leaning back on his seat from the corner of your room.

No one replies to Diluc's question. Everyone is afraid that Diluc's correct— how you're slipping from their fingers. It's hard to determine how your fate will play out. You're either going to live or ultimately die in the end. You're so weak you could barely feed yourself and would go in and out of sleep. They didn't want you to suffer any longer, so they put you in a medically induced coma for your body to heal from the damages caused by the two ancient gods.

At first, everyone was against you being placed in a medically induced coma. Doctor Baizhu recommended it, and almost everyone shot down that idea. After hearing the green-haired doctor's explanation of why it'd be a good idea, everyone reluctantly gave in and agreed to put you in a medically induced coma. While your body is trying its best to heal, putting you in a coma will reduce your suffering, and it's all the men could ever want— for you not to suffer. 

A knock coming from the door pulls everyone out of their thoughts. Childe and Doctor Baizhu step into the room, nodding at each person in your room. Zhongli soon enters the room with other Adeptis following behind. Today's the day when the Adeptis survey your situation. While the Adeptis didn't want to interfere with the path where your life was heading, the sheer desperation from Xiao and Zhongli made them give in. 

"How bad is it? [Y/N]'s condition," Xiao mutters, watching the other Adeptis surround your bed while gazing at your unconscious body.

Cloud Retainer hums, turning to look at the men in the room. "Their condition is very grim. I don't understand how a mere mortal like them can survive this long," Cloud Retainers says.

Moon Carver huffs, shaking his head. "It is better to put this mortal out of their misery. Keeping them alive is already torture as it is," Moon Carver states.

Childe frowns, crossing his arms over his chest, and narrows his eyes at the Adeptis. "We're not giving up on them. With all due respect, if you would rather let [Y/N] die, just say you're lazy and don't want to save someone precious to Morax and the Conquerer of Demons," Childe retorts, gesturing over to the Yaksha and former Geo Archon.

The Adeptis stare at Childe, not saying a word. Zhongli and Xiao give Childe a subtle glare as if they're telling him to keep quiet or else he'll make it worse for you and everyone else. Mountain Shaper sighs while Ganyu gives the men a sad smile. There's nothing they can do about your condition. While Adepti magic can resurrect the dead, it's dangerous for humans such as yourself. Your soul— or any human soul— isn't as strong, and the Adeptal energy can overwhelm the soul. It wasn't because they didn't want to save you. Suppose you're exposed to Adeptal magic for a prolonged period. In that case, it will not only kill you but drive you to the brink of insanity and make you go berserk.

The Adeptis want to prevent that from happening because they do not want to see you, the former Geo Archon and Conquerer of Demons' significant other, suffer and die a painful death. They have never seen Zhongli or Xiao care about someone on a much deeper level. While they held their close (deceased) friends to their hearts, none of them can come close to the level Zhongli and Xiao held you. 

Ganyu clears her throat. "We can infuse [Y/N] with Adeptal energy, but we have to be very careful about how much is infused into [Y/N]'s system," says Ganyu, placing her hand over your cold, clammy hands.

"Please step out of the room while we treat [Y/N]. It can take some time, and we need a minimal distraction," says Madame Ping.

The men look at one another, hesitant about leaving you. While you're in safe hands, the men don't want to take their eyes off you in case anything happens. Seeing you get hurt and be away from you is the last thing they want to deal with. But because Cloud Retainer is starting to lose patience, the men reluctantly agree and begin leaving one by one.

Ganyu smiles at them reassuringly before closing the door once the last person steps out of your room. Once the doors have closed, everyone stands in silence, trying to listen to the slightest sound coming from your room. Disappointingly enough, there was no sound, and even if there were sounds coming from the inside of your room, they were advised not to listen in—gold lights spill from the gaps of your bedroom door. Gorou fiddles with his thumb, gazing at the lights anxiously. The Adeptis have started their process, and all they can do is wait.

"Should we really be doing this? You heard what Cloud Retainer said about [Y/N]'s condition, right? It's very grim, and Cloud Retainer doesn't understand how [Y/N] manages to survive this long," Gorou whispers, his ears flattening on his head.

"We can only hope for the best. We can't let [Y/N] slip from our fingers, Gorou. Do you know how hard it is to lose someone that means the world to you? Whether it's a dear friend, a family member, or a past lover?" Aether asks, frowning at the General. 

Heizou laughs bitterly, shaking his head after hearing Aether's question. Of course, everyone knows how it feels to lose someone they hold close to their hearts. Heizou was unfortunate enough to be one of those people who lost someone near and dear to him. Losing someone like you, his significant other, is something he doesn't want to deal with. Death has no mercy, and death doesn't spare anyone. Not even immortals and Archons are safe from experiencing death and losing their life. Everyone dies, and as for your situation, the men don't want you to die.

You're not from their world, and if you were to die in their universe, what would happen to your existence in your world? Would you be erased from your loved one's memory? So many questions circulate in their minds as they sit and wait for the procedure to be completed. 

After what felt like hours of waiting for the Adeptis to be finished treating you, the doors to your bedroom opened. Madame Ping smiles at the men and moves to the side, letting the men into your bedroom. The men file into your room, and there you are, sitting while clutching your head. Ganyu passes you a cup of water. You smile at Ganyu weakly and take small sips. Itto sighs in relief, rushing over to you and standing beside you, waiting for you to put the cup on the nightstand to hug you. The glass cup makes a small clinking noise. Itto plops on the edge of your bed and wraps his arms around your shoulders, burying his face into your hair.

You smile and rub his back, still weak from being used as a vessel for two ancient deceased gods. Itto sniffles and rocks you side to side in his arms. He wants to squeeze you tightly, but you're still weak, and he's unsure of what your current condition is like. While you're awake and no longer in the medically induced coma, there's a high chance you're still physically weak despite having Adeptal energy infused into you.

"I'm so glad to see you awake. You worry me so much, onikabuto booboo bear," Itto murmurs, pulling away from the hug and caressing your face.

You smile at Itto weakly. "I'm sorry for worrying all of you. It was stupid of me to accept the necklace from the merchant, and I wouldn't be in this situation if I hadn't touched the sword at the Stormterror's Lair," you reply, placing your hands over his.

Ayato sighs from a distance, pinching the bridge of his nose. "How many times do we have to tell you not to blame yourself? None of it is your fault, and we are currently tracking down that merchant," Ayato says, now standing at the foot of your bed.

They're tracking down the merchant that forced you to take the necklace? How were they going to do that when there were so many merchants and vendors at the festival? You pull away from Itto, coughing into your elbow. Right, you forgot your body is still weak from what happened not long ago. Baizhu approaches your bed and gently pushes you to lay on your bed, tucking you in. You look at Baizhu, who's analyzing you closely. A dull pain on your arm grabs your attention. You look at your arm to see a bandage wrapped around the nook of your elbow. 

"Before we check your current condition, do you want to eat something? You've been in a medically induced coma for a while," Baizhu murmurs, brushing the strands of hair away from your face before pressing the back of his hand against your forehead.

You chew on the inside of your cheek and nod. It has been a while since you've eaten something, and your stomach is starting to feel a little uncomfortable. After seeing you nod, Thoma gets up from his seat to make something for you to eat. But of course, before he leaves your room, Thoma walks to your bed and kisses your cheek.

"I'm glad to see you awake now. I was so worried about you," Thoma whispers and gives your hand a light squeeze.

You smile at Thoma, squeezing his hands in return. Thoma quickly bows to the Adeptis before leaving your bedroom to get you something to eat. Albedo and Venti walk up to your bed, catching you up to speed on what happened while you were unconscious for the last few days. While Venti and Albedo were catching you up, Zhongli and Xiao were standing to the side, talking to the Adeptis.

Zhongli sighs, looking at you from over his shoulders before gazing at the Adeptis. It's great to see that you're awake and no longer in a medically induced coma. Despite being conscious and aware of your surroundings, you still look weak. The state of your condition reminds him of fragile glass that can break under minimal pressure.

"I know you worry about the mortal and their well-being, but rest assured. Ganyu made sure there is enough Adeptal energy infused into your mortal lover's system," Cloud Retainer says.

Zhongli chuckles, shaking his head. "Can you blame me for worrying? Two ancient gods possessed [Y/N]'s body and used their life source for selfish needs," Zhongli sighs. "It was negligent on my end for not watching them closely at the festival. They wouldn't be in this situation if I kept my eyes on them."

A small cough grabs Zhongli and the Adeptis' attention. They all turn to see Doctor Baizhu handing you a cup of water to sip on while Dottore and Tighnari check on your condition. You rub your chest and wince, letting your hands fall on your lap. 

Albedo furrows his eyebrows, eyeing your shirt collar. Albedo points at the collar of your shirt. "Is it okay if I check something?" Albedo asks, his gloved finger brushing against the fabric.

You look at Albedo questionably, nodding slowly. Albedo smiles and gingerly grabs the collar of your shirt, pulling it down enough for everyone in the room to see strange scars on your chest. Kaeya and Kazuha look at one another, their eyebrows furrowing with concern. Albedo sits beside you, blocking the view from the others before asking for permission to pull the collar of your shirt down further. You nod, and Albedo pulls the collar of your shirt down to the middle of your chest, his eyes scanning the scars on your chest.

"What's going on?" Heizou asks, jogging up to your bed to get a look at what Albedo is examining on your chest.

Albedo brushes his fingers against the scars, making you hiss and wince. Albedo pulls his hands away, looking at you worriedly. You place your fingers over the scars, tracing them. You look down at your chest to see lines that resemble lighting scars. The center of your chest was a deep color compared to the jagged lines crawling up to your collarbones and shoulders.

Venti smiles at you reassuringly from over Albedo's shoulders. "Don't worry, [Y/N]! I'm sure there's a way to treat the scars, right?" Vneti turns to look at Dottore, Doctor Baizhu, and Tighnari with a nervous smile,

Doctor Baizhu clears his throat and pushes his glasses up his nose. "Lightning scars fade after a few hours of being struck. However, the scars on [Y/N]'s chest aren't from a lightning strike," says Doctor Baizhu, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Then how do we treat the scars on [Y/N]'s chest? Will the scars heal?" Cyno murmurs, leaning in to get a closer look at the scar across your chest.

"The same way you would treat lightning scars. Put antibiotic ointment or vaseline on the affected area serval times a day until the scars completely heal," Dottore replies nonchalantly.

You sigh as Albedo pulls your shirt collar up, covering the scar. Xiao and Zhongli escort the Adeptis out of your bedroom and to the entrance of the abode. Your eyelids begin to get heavy as you slowly lie down on your bed. Before you can fall asleep, Thoma enters your bedroom with a tray of food in his hands. Kaeya and Kazuha help you sit, fluffing the pillows behind your back while Thoma places the food tray on your lap.

Kaeya points at the food. "Would you like for us to feed you?" Kaeya asks, sitting on the edge of your bed.

You shake your head. "No, thank you! I think I should be able to feed myself," you say, reaching for the spoon. "But thank you for the offer, Kaeya. I really appreciate it."

You manage to feed yourself three spoonfuls of soup, and after the fourth scoop, your arm is beginning to feel tired and sore. You put the spoon into the bowl and tap your fingers on the plastic food tray. You have been put in a medically induced coma for who knows how long, and you're starving. While you're able to feed yourself a minimal amount of soup, your arm feels weak, and you don't think you'll be able to finish your soup with sore, weak arms.

You laugh breathlessly, shaking your head. "On second thought, I think I do need assistance," you say, looking at Kaeya.

Kaeya chuckles and grabs the spoon from the bowl, grabbing the bowl and begin spoon-feeding you. While you're being fed by Kaeya, Kazuha would wipe the corner of your lips if any soup were to drip from the corner of your lips. There are many times when you would almost doze off to sleep, but Kaeya and Kazuha would tap on your cheek to wake you up.

Kazuha strokes your hair while you shut your eyes tightly. "I know you want to sleep, but you need to eat first before going back to sleep," Kazuha murmurs.

"We also need to apply ointment on their scars," Tighnari interjects, waving a tube of ointment in the air to grab your attention.

You curse silently under your breath. You forgot about the ointment. You just want to go to sleep and not have to deal with what's going on around you. You're relieved that you no longer have two entities taking over your body. Having more than one voice in your mind was strange, and these two deceased gods trying to take over your body was a strange experience. You wouldn't wish it upon your enemies. Well, on second thought... it depends on who your enemies are.

You look around in a daze after noticing some people are absent. "Wait. Where's Pierro, Pantalone, and Capitano?" You ask, turning to look at the men quizzically.

"They'll be here in a moment. In the meantime, after you finish eating your food, do you want someone to apply the ointment on you, or do you want to wait a little bit?" Albedo asks, extending his arm out behind him, waiting for Tighnari to place the tube of ointment in his hands.

You don't know how much pain the ointment is going to cause, but you don't think it's best to hold off on it. You don't care who applies the ointment on the strange scars on your chest. You're starting to feel your consciousness beginning to slip away as time continues to pass by. You yawn, slowly lying down and closing your eyes without answering Albedo's question. Albedo sighs and turns to look at the others.

Kaveh shrugs. "I don't think it'll matter when we apply the ointment. We can apply it on them now while they're sleeping," Kaveh suggests, sitting at the foot of your bed while examining the scars peeking from your shirt collar. 

The scars on your chest are a dark shade of red, almost painful and pulsating. The scar is most likely caused by the pendant the merchant forced you to wear and buy. Everyone hopes Pierro, Capitano, and Pantalone can track the merchant down and bring him to justice.

Itto pokes your cheek, trying to keep you awake. You groan softly, swatting Itto's hands away from your face. You open your eyes to see the Oni gazing at you worriedly. Your eyelids flutter while you try your hardest not to fall asleep, but clearly, you're struggling to stay awake. Itto kneels beside your bed and grabs your frail hands, and kisses your knuckles.

"I know you're sleepy, onikabuto booboo bear, but please try to stay awake while we apply ointment on your scars," Itto pleads, kissing your knuckles a second time.

You nod weakly, fighting the urge to doze off. Ayato pulls your shirt collar down while Doctor Baizhu applies the ointment on your scars, carefully trying not to hurt you. But alas, the scars are sensitive and new, causing you to hiss from the stinging sensation. The green-haired doctor mutters a soft apology each time you hiss from the burning sensation. Itto continues to hold onto your hand, feeling you squeeze his hands weakly every time the scars burn due to the ointment. 

"You're doing well, my sweet violetgrass. I'm almost finished applying the ointment; I just need to get this one area, and we'll be done," Doctor Baizhu murmurs.

Tighnari turns to look at Dottore, his arms crossing over his chest. "Are you going to continue to put [Y/N]'s blood through a series of tests?" Tighnari asks, gazing at the Harbinger curiously.

Dottore nods, adjusting the mask over his face. "Of course I am! Just because there's Adeptal energy infused into [Y/N]'s system doesn't mean I have to put the blood test to a halt," Dottore says, propping his hands on his hips.

After a few minutes, Doctor Baizhu is finished applying the ointment, and Ayato pulls your shirt collar back up. Itto releases your hand and tucks you into your bed, pulling the blanket up to your chin. He leans down, kisses your head, and takes a step back. Scaramouche walks to your desk and lights up the small candle on your desk, letting the fragrance waft into the air.

Without turning to look at the men, Scaramouche says, "When we catch this merchant, I'll make sure he suffers."

Childe lets out an amused laugh. "And what are you going to do? Electrocute him? I would rather have him rot in prison for what he has done to [Y/N]," Childe sneers, shaking his head.

Ever since the men (and the Adeptis) were able to get rid of the two ancient gods from your body, the men have been working tirelessly searching for the merchant that started it all. Of course, they weren't able to track the merchant down within those days. 

Growing frustrated with hitting a dead end, Pierro, Pantalone, and Capitano volunteered to hunt the merchant down themselves. Little did you and the other men know, Pantalone snuck off to Fontaine after Arlecchino hinted there were people that might know where the merchant was rather than giving the black-haired Harbinger the exact location of the merchant.

You suddenly lurch forward, startling the men. You slap your hand to your mouth, toss the blanket off your body before running to your bathroom to empty your stomach. Dottore, Tighnari, Doctor Baizhu, and Albedo run after you to make sure you're okay. The men crowd at the doorway, watching you vomit into the toilet bowl while Albedo is holding your hair up. You collapse in front of the toilet, flush it, and wipe your mouth with the back of your hands, sniffling.

Doctor Baizhu presses his hand against your forehead and sighs. "You're running a fever. Let's get you back in bed, alright? I'll get you medication," Doctor Baizhu murmurs.

Dottore scoops you in his arms and carries you out of your bathroom, pushing past the men standing at the doorway. You lean against Dottore's chest, and a wave of exhaustion washes over you like a tsunami. You close your eyes, feeling yourself drifting to sleep once more in the Harbinger's arms. Dottore places you on your bed and tucks you in while Albedo emerges from your bathroom with a bucket just in case you need to empty your stomach for the second time.

"Is there anything we can do to help? We don't want to sit around and watch all of you do the work while we just stand there helplessly," Aether says, approaching your bed.

Before the four men can reply, the door to your room opens, revealing Pantalone. The black-haired Harbinger enters your room with two guests following behind. The two guests are tall and look to be high profile— especially the man with silver hair and blue streaks in his hair. The men look at Pantalone quizzically, pointing at the guests.

"Who are they? Pantalone, you can't bring guests over when we have something going on right now," Aether says, gesturing over to where you lay.

Pantalone ignores Aether, pushing through the men crowding around your bed. Pantalone sighs, shaking his head. You crack your eyes open to see the black-haired man gazing at you worriedly. You smile at him weakly before coughing weakly into your elbow, wincing when your throat starts hurting. Pantalone turns to look at the two guests, nodding to them. The two men step forward and stand beside Pantalone, their arms over their chests. 

Pantalone clears his throat. "While Pierro and Capitano were tracking the merchant down, I snuck off to Fontaine, searching for the merchant. Arlecchino mentioned how there are certain people that might know about the merchant's whereabouts, and I took the initiative and stopped by the City of Justice," Pantalone says.

Al Haitham motions to the two men. "And who are they exactly, and how will they help us with this investigation?" Al Haitham asks, gazing at the men with scrutiny. 

The man with black hair and white streaks in his hair smirks, brushing his hair back from his forehead. "We're here to help you with the situation. Pantalone informed us of what happened, and we're willing to help you all find that merchant," says the black-haired man.

The silver-haired man with blue streaks over in your direction to see Xiao and Gorou holding you up. It's clear you don't have any energy left in you as you slump in their arms, eyes threatening to close. The silver-haired man clears his throat, gesturing if he could step closer. Gorou and Xiao stare at the man warily before nodding reluctantly. The silver-haired man walks to the side of your bed, standing beside Xiao.

"Pantalone has informed us there's a merchant who forced you to take a pendant leading up to your near-death experience. Do you remember what this merchant looks like by any chance?" asks the silver-haired man. "We will do everything we can to bring that man to justice for the damages he has caused to you and your.... partners."

You're going in and out of sleep; your eyelids feel so heavy you can barely keep them open. You swallow the lump in your throat, shuddering when a rush of cool air takes over your body. You close your eyes, trying to remember what the Liyuen merchant looks like. All you can remember is that he was an older man, and his stall consisted of expensive jewelry. 

You gaze at the silver-haired man through heavy eyelids, shaking your head. "I'm sorry, but the only thing I can remember about this merchant was that he was an older man, and he was selling expensive jewelry during the festival," you whisper.

You cough into your elbows, wincing when you feel a sharp pain in your chest. You grab at your shirt, squeezing your hands into a tight fist. The silver-haired man nods and turns to the black-haired man with silver streaks in his hair, nodding. The silver-haired man steps away and walks over to where Pantalone and the black-haired man with silver streaks are standing. Thoma clears his throat, rubbing his neck with a sheepish smile.

"If we're going to be working together to find the merchant that caused all of this, can we at least know the names of the people we're working with?" Thoma asks, gazing at the two guests beside Pantalone.

The silver-haired man nods, gesturing to himself. "My name is Neuvillette. It's a pleasure to meet all of you. There is no need to introduce yourselves. We know who you all are," says the silver-haired man.

"And I am Wriothesley. A pleasure to be working with all of you," The black-haired man with silver streaks in his hair bows, giving the men a charming smile.

Gorou's anxious "uhs" interrupted the moment of peace as he searched for the green-haired doctor. Baizhu weaves through the crowd of men to get to you, Gorou, and Xiao. Xiao and Gorou lay you on your bed while Doctor Baizhu checks your condition with Tighnari at his side. Your heartbeat is regular, and so is your breathing. Aside from the thin layer of sweat on your forehead and your body temperature skyrocketing, you're okay. Baizhu quickly excuses himself to go to the infirmary a few doors down the hallway to get medication for you.

Venti appears beside you with a wet cloth, brushing your hair away from your forehead and placing the cool, damp cloth on your burning forehead. You shiver in your unconscious state, coughing weakly. Your skin is abnormally hot to the touch, so hot that when Gorou touches your arm, he quickly retracts his hands from your arm.

"If [Y/N] is running a fever, shouldn't we have them dress in light clothing? It'll be hard to reduce the fever if they wear layers," Kazuha murmurs.

"I don't think we should disturb their sleep. They've been in and out of sleep often. It worries me that if they were to wake up, they'd collapse," Diluc murmurs, running his hands through his fiery red hair.

Kaeya taps on your bed lightly, reaching for your blanket and feeling the many layers of blanket covering your scorching body. He looks at the others, crossing his arms over his chest. "We might as well remove the mountains of blankets from their body. As Kazuha said, they need to dress in light clothing or have a light blanket over them, or else it'll be harder to reduce the fever," Kaeya says.

Kaeya begins peeling layers of blankets off your body, questioning why you need to sleep with so many blankets. Kaeya counted seven blankets in total that were laid over your burning body. Kaeya places the seven blankets on the small sofa in the corner of your room before grabbing a thin, fuzzy throw blanket from the stool in front of your vanity. Kaeya covers your shivering yet heated body with the throw blanket, wiping the layer of sweat off your face and neck with the rag that was discarded beside your pillow. 

Venti sighs. "I think we should wake [Y/N] up so they can wear something lighter. Plus, they're sweating so much they're starting to sweat through their clothes," Venti says.

Venti wasn't wrong. You are starting to sweat through your clothes, and it's a miracle you didn't sweat through it in the beginning before the Adeptis arrived at the abode. Heizou hesitantly wakes you from your slumber, telling you to change into something lighter and breathable. While you change into shorts and a thinner shirt, Gorou walks to the corner of your room and turns on the fan, letting the fan blow cool air into your stuffy bedroom.

You walk out of the bathroom with Heizou and Cyno guiding you to your bed. Your arms are draped over Cyno and Heizou's shoulders. Your legs can barely keep you up due to them feeling like gelatin. You smile at Cyno and Heizou, plopping down on the bed, and you are out like a light the minute your head touches your pillow.

"Are you guys sure it's just a fever? They're delirious," Cyno murmurs, placing the blanket over your lap and adjusting the pillow under your head.

Heizou rubs his temples, sighing. "I agree. It can't just be any fever. [Y/N] can barely focus on what's going on in front of them. Not only that, but their eyes are glazed over, and their responses are also delayed," Heizou interjects, sitting beside your bed.

"Well, two ancient gods did use [Y/N]'s body as a vessel and life source to do as they pleased. Not only that but Adeptal energy was infused into their system to help them survive the aftermath. It's normal for their body to react this way as they are not used to being put through many obstacles," Dainsleif says, closing his eyes.

A set of footsteps approach your bedroom, and there enters Capitano and Pierro, looking tense and grim. The men in the room look at one another, wondering why the two Harbingers were gone for so long and why they had that look on their faces. Pierro and Capitano stop at the entrance, eyes scanning the room.

"We managed to track down the merchant," says Pierro.

Ayato raises his eyebrows at the Harbingers, leaning against the wall beside your bed. "Is that so? And where was the merchant? I thought Pantalone, Wriothesley, and Neuvillette were going to start searching for this merchant after [Y/N] gave them the descriptions," says Ayato.

Capitano huffs. "Insolent fool. The two men from Fontaine asked [Y/N] for descriptions of the merchant because we managed to narrow down a few men [Y/N] described. If we were to line them up in one room and have [Y/N] identify them by their appearance, then we have found the merchant," Capitano says.

Xiao huffs, glaring at the Harbinger. "That's very unlikely going to happen now. I suggest you all let [Y/N] rest, and we can continue the search some other time, alright?" Xiao hisses.

Gorou nervously interjects. "Plus, [Y/N] is currently sleeping right now. I know you all want to get down to business and bring the merchant to justice, but please put [Y/N]'s health first," Gorou pleads.

The men reluctantly agreed and left your room one by one. Xiao and Gorou stayed behind to make sure every person left before following the other twenty-five men out of your bedroom. The next few days were grueling for you and the others. You would throw up everything you ate and could barely swallow your medication to the point where it had to be injected into you through your veins. Seeing you suffer was painful, and the others didn't know what else to do to ease your pain. The Adeptis would stop by every now and then throughout the day to check up on your condition and if the Adeptal energy was negatively impacting you in any way.

"How long is this torture going to last for [Y/N]? They barely ate and are a bag of bones at this point. Their eyes are sunken in, and they're losing color to their skin. How is this not concerning for any of you!?" Scaramouche demands, slamming his hands down on the table and glaring at the other men in the room. 

Scaramouche was right. You barely ate anything because you can barely keep it down if you ate something. No matter how little you eat, you will throw it back up. You can hardly keep your eyes open for ten minutes without wanting to pass out asleep. You're always tired, you barely leave your bed, and you can barely care for yourself. It wasn't the Adeptal energy that was causing this, apparently. Everyone was skeptical and worried but refused to show their concerns. It wasn't because they were afraid of showing how worried they were for you. They didn't want to stress the other person out if they did.

Childe runs his hands through his ginger hair. "What else are we supposed to do? We're doing our best to take care of [Y/N], and you're over here blabbering your mouth like an annoying pest," Childe hisses.

Scaramouche opens his mouth to retort, but Pierro holds his hand up. "Both of you, silence. Bickering isn't going to get us anywhere, nor will it make the situation any better," Pierro hisses, glaring at Scaramouche and Childe. 

Albedo walks down the stairs, fixing his hair with a sigh. Kazuha stands and walks over to Albedo, worriedly gazing at the Chief Alchemist.

"So? How's [Y/N]?" asks Kazuha.

Albedo rubs his face, his shoulders slumping. "They could've been worse. The good update I have is they're able to eat their food without it coming back up. I believe they ate a few hours ago, and it seems like they haven't vomited back up," replies Albedo, smiling at Kazuha.

"And what about their consciousness? Any updates on that?" Thoma asks.

Albedo shakes his head before explaining the situation. You were able to eat and digest your food after days of not being able to. However, even though you can eat and digest your food without any issues, your consciousness is another problem everyone has to figure out how to solve. 

"Are you sure it's not the Adeptal energy that's causing this whole mess? I understand [Y/N] was possessed by two dead gods simultaneously, but that can't be the only reason why [Y/N] is in this condition," Dainsleif comments, turning to look at Zhongli and Xiao.

The two men stare at the blond man, not saying a single thing. It can't be the Adeptal energy infused into your system. Zhongli and Xiao were informed by Ganyu that she made sure just a tiny amount of Adeptal energy was infused into your body. While it may cause some complications in the beginning, the problem should be brief. It should be temporary after a few days, but your case is worse than mild.

"Can we go and visit them, or is it bad timing?" Al Haitham asks.

Kaeya shrugs. "I don't see why not. It has been a few days since we've all seen [Y/N]. As Albedo said, they're able to eat without vomiting it back up. I would call it progress," Kaeya nods.

The way to your room is silent. No one said a single thing, and the only noise filling the silence was footsteps going up the wooden staircase. Diluc grabs the door handle, cracks the door open, and peeks into your room to see you sitting on your bed while Baizhu and Dottore check up on you. The men enter your room, quietly greeting you as they don't want to overwhelm you. 

"How have you been?" Diluc asks, leaning against the door.

You scrunch your face and sigh. "I'm feeling a little bit better now. Although being bedridden isn't as fun as it sounds," you murmur, rubbing the bandaged area on your arm. "On the bright side, I can eat just fine. The downside is I can barely stay awake without the urge of wanting to go back to bed after five minutes of opening my eyes," you add.

You do look better than a few days prior. Before, your hair was lackluster, you looked sickly, and you (according to Scaramouche) looked like a bag of bones. Now, you look a little bit wide awake. You don't look like a bag of bones due to not being able to keep your food down. You almost look like your normal self before the whole ancient gods possessed your body and used your life source for their selfish needs. You look alive than almost lifeless, and everyone is glad you’re gradually doing better than before.

"[Y/N], there are people here from Fontaine, and they want to help you--- help us with what occurred not long ago at the festival and the events that led to you being bedridden," says Pierro, sitting at the foot of your bed. "Do you think you can do that? By giving them any information you can recall that night?"

You nod, watching Pierro gesture for the two men from Fontaine to step forward. The two men, who later introduced themselves as Neuvillette and Wriothesley, jot down the information you provided the night the festival happened. You tried your best to tell them every detail you could remember. From the jewelry stands to the older gentleman of the stall, how the older man was very persistent in getting you to accept the pendant. 

The older man did not take no for an answer and forced you to take the necklace despite you politely rejecting the offer. The man sold the necklace at an insane price. The necklace has a tragic background, and it felt wrong to parade around wearing the necklace that was once given to the woman by her deceased lover. The pendant is beautiful and has a tragic story behind it, and you didn't want to wear something that used to mean so much to the deceased woman. Yes, she possessed and nearly killed you, but you hold no ill will toward the deceased woman. 

"Thank you for providing us with the information we needed," Neuvillette says, giving you a brief smile.

Wriothesley clears his throat, closing his notepad. "Now that we got that out of the way, do you want to identify the man now?" Wriothesley asks.

You blink at the black-haired man with silver streaks. What does he mean by that exactly? Did you not identify the merchant already? Everyone in the room looks almost as confused as you, except for Pantalone, Pierro, Capitano, Neuvillette, and Wriothesley. You subconsciously rub the fading scars on your chest, feeling your heart race against your chest. 

Zhongli narrows his eyes at the four men. "What does he mean by that?" Zhongli questions, crossing his arms over his chest.

Pantalone chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "It seems like we left out one key piece of information," Pantalone says. "Ah, how silly of me to forget to inform you all about this."

Dainsleif glares at the black-haired Harbinger. "What are you talking about?" Dainsleif asks, clenching his jaws.

"The merchant and many other men that fit the description are currently held hostage under the Harbingers' Estate. We can now start identifying the culprit and bring him to justice," says Capitano.

You swallow the lump in your throat, suddenly feeling ill again. This entire time, the Harbingers (well, Pierro, Pantalone, and Capitano) have been keeping the merchant and many other men who fit the description as prisoners in the basement of the Harbingers' Estate. You weren't sure if it was the Adeptal energy that was making you feel ill, or if it was because you were possessed not long ago by two ancient gods, or if it was because the merchants had been in the abode while you were bedridden.

"Are you ready to identify the man?" Capitano asks, holding his hand out for you to take.

You stare at Capitano's hands, looking at him hesitantly. Are you ready to meet the man that caused all of this?

Note: Two out of three stories have been published! I'm still not done with the other fic (the HSR one), but hopefully, I can get it finished and posted before 6 AM PST. As my vacation is getting near, I will be posting much shorter fics before and while I'm on vacation. Hopefully, it'll give me time to think about what I want to write for the next fic. I think I'm going to be posting part 7 of Crave for next week since I don't want to write smut the week I go on vacation or while I'm on vacation 💀 Last week's link has now expired, so for those who want to pop into my discord and lurk or chat with other server members, here is a new (and temporary) server link to [Zhongli's Abode]. To my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for my Isekai'd!Reader one-shot series and my overall taglist: @yoru-trash, @kaoyamamegami, @deartoru, @luminarymoonlight, @toobytub, @ins4nebish, @bokuto-kinnie, @exhaustedcommunist, @jadedist, @mompt2, @chalksdreams, @thelost-in-time, @ventisweetheart, @hispasian-otaku, @juuuuuj101010, @samarill, @irisxiel, @kazuhaprnt, @lunarapple, @emilymikado, @vinnie-w, @n8mareee, @heyimkay, @eliciana, @blesstosuisen, @goldeneclipsedragon, @jjvr4yxc, @sovermike-21-blog, @vox34, @skyyyyackerman, @undecidingfate, @nightlysunn, @faeryminnyx, @simpcreator, @lucifarts-boxers, @thelovebuggs, @urlocalheizousimp, @sunlightstarr (Accounts that I was unable to tag have been removed. Those who don't want to be tagged in certain stories are not tagged in this particular post. Remember to check your settings if you're allowing people to mention you/tag you in posts or not)

Read more of my works on my Masterlist | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

#Genshin impact x reader #Genshin impact fanfiction #Arataki Itto x reader #Gorou x reader #Thoma x reader #Kaedehara Kazuha x reader #Xiao x reader #Albedo x reader #Zhongli x reader #Childe x reader #Venti x reader #Diluc x reader #Kaeya x reader #Kamisato Ayato x reader #Dainsleif x reader #Scaramouche x reader #Baizhu x reader #Aether x reader #Heizou x reader #Al Haitham x reader #Tighnari x reader #Cyno x reader #Kaveh x reader #Pantalone x reader #Pierro x reader #Dottore x reader #Capitano x reader #genshinluvr #Wriothesley x reader #Neuvillette x reader

[multifunctionalnitroglycerin]

The Locked Tomb Series Names and Symbolism #4

Hiya folks! Hope you are all doing fine and dandy. This series ofc couldn’t be complete without our beloved Sex-Pal in the count. Now according to wiki there are two figures that inspired the Master Warden, Παλαμήδης, the Greek mythological hero that took part in the Trojan war, and Palamedes the Arthurian knight. I am more well-versed in the Greek myths than I am in Medieval plays, I admit, but I will do my best to do justice by both these inspirations.

            But first things first, some etymology. There are two most prominent versions for the etymology of the name Palamedes or well, Παλαμήδης. In the first one, it’s a derivative of the verb παλαμάομαι meaning devise/contrive and invent. Aka the inventor that devises plans (Or concocts schemes, depending on how you want to see it). In the second one it is believed to derive from the verb παλαίω => παλεύω aka fight and μήδομαι => σκέφτομαι, συμβουλεύω aka think and advise. So, Palamedes would be the one that thinks abt the battle and gives advice for it. Both etymologies I feel fit our inventive strategist, The Master Warden of the Sixth, to a t.

Let us now begin with the Greek hero from the Trojan war. And no my pals, this is not yet another Iliad reference, for our proclaimed hero does not actually appear in the Iliad. His first appearance is in what has been known as the Κύπρια, a well-known epic of the ancient Greek literature that despite being quite famous during the classical period, has been lost to the sands of time. Long story short, this epic is a part of the Trojan circle and follows the conclusion of the Iliad. Palamedes’ story is one of many included in the epic that counts I think 11 books.

            Truth to be told, Mythological Palamedes did star in quite a few epics, tragedies and other works that refer to the Trojan war or the time after it, but for the sake of keeping the post relatively short, and since I do not quite have the time to hunt down every ancient text reference and draw a parallel to the Master Warden, we’ll mostly reference the most relative ones and I’ll leave a list in the end, in case some of you do want to go hunting ancient texts.

            I’ll start with a fun fact. According to a Trojan priest of Hephestus, Dares the Phrygian, Palamedes was described as tall, slender, wise, magnanimous, and charming. Now I cannot speak for everyone, but well, to me that sounds like Palamedes Sextus.

            In general, there are not many direct parallels that I can make between Palamedes the Euboian and Palamedes Sextus, bar for the most obvious one, that they are both ingenious. Palamedes the mythological figure was accredited with inventing part of the Greek Alphabet, lighthouses, navigation, coins, the division of time into months days and hours and a few board games, with κύβοι being one of the most prominent (to my understanding it’s the equivalent to dice). Palamedes Sextus on the other hand, figured out the secret to Lyctorhood, necromantically bound his soul to his skeleton, saw through Cytherea’s ploy, exploded himself, created a bubble in the River in which he persevered until Camila could glue his skull back together and he figured out a way to co-exist with her, in her own body, without killing them both, plus the Grand Lysis and Paul’s creation.

            What mostly sticks with me from the above, among others, is navigation. One Palamedes is the inventor of it, and the other, though by that point is Paul, seems to know a way to the Tomb via the River. The river that even God struggles navigating – at least with other people on the way. So, could it be, that Palamedes -that beat even Cassiopeia in time survived in the River – figures out a way to truly navigate this sea of the dead?

            Two smaller parallels we could draw from mythological Palamedes are 1. Pal seeing through Cytherea’s ploy, the same way that Palamedes the Euboian saw through Odysseus’ ploy when he wanted to avoid fighting in Troy and played mad, plowing the earth with a horse and an ox throwing salt in the holes.   2. The syphoning challenge. This story also includes Palamedes butting heads with Odysseus – not going to lie to you, they were evenly matched in genius – although according to some accounts it’s Palamedes who was the brightest and most ingenious of the Greeks - , but Odysseus never forgave him for uncovering his ploy and may or may not have orchestrated Palamedes’ murder – only in this analogy Pal is Odysseus. In a time of great hunger for the Achaeans, Odysseus was sent to Thrace to find wheat and returned empty-handed. Palamedes mocked him, and Odysseus replied that for all his ingenuity he too would return emptyhanded. Palamedes did embark on the quest and was successful, returning with shiploads of supplies. In the syphoning challenge, Pal is Odysseus, the one who turns up empty handed, refusing to risk Camila’s well-being once he figured out how the test worked. And he is also the one that tries to talk Harrow out of completing the challenge. Harrow much like the mythological Palamedes jumps in the opportunity to prove herself – through the challenge’s objective had little to do with proving one’s self, as we saw – and succeeds, obtaining the key.

            All in all, the biggest parallel’s we can draw here, is that Pal like his mythological namesake is a genius inventor and strategist, a bright necromancer and brighter scholar still. He is the Odysseus in Harrow’s Palamedes and vice versa.

            And now that I drew the parallel with Odysseus I cannot unsee it. He made his body the Trojan horse that exploded in Cytherea’s face. He was stranded in the River – the sea of the undead, of the souls and corpses and all that nice stuff – for however long it took Camilla to piece the skull together, like Odysseus lost in the seas. He found his Ogygia in Camila’s mind where he stays safely stored until his stop in the island of the Phaeacians – Naberius’ body. A brief stop gathering supplies, gathering courage before going home. Back to Camilla, but now as one. There is no him and her anymore. They have had a home in each other, and it’s time he returned to it, burning down the ruins of the past, and getting reborn as something new, together, as one. (Cam and Pal are a phoenix metaphor if I have ever seen one.)

            Onto the Arthurian Palamedes now, our friend was a knight of the round table, and makes his first appearance in an expansion of the Tristan and Iseult legend, as a knight vying for the princess’ hand, much like our beloved Sex-Pal wanted Dulcinea’s affections. There are no Trsitans in this world however, merely Cytherea as an imposter.

            Now what is interesting about the Arthurian Palamedes, is that according to various tales he is the hunter of the Questing Beast – a multi animal snake like monster that he, Percival and Galahad are tasked with exterminating. In most versions the hunt is futile and bears no results. After Palamedes converts to Christianity however, releasing himself from the worldly entanglements, he is finally able to slay the beast after the other two trap it in a lake. My theory here is that the Questing Beast, Beast Glatisant or whatever you want to call it, is a Resurrection Beast, perhaps even Varun the Eater. And the Warden has “converted to Christianity” by ascending, aka completing the Lyctorhood process. He shed his mortal shell, disentangled himself from the coils of mortality and worldly needs, becoming very much the equivalent of the “converted Palamedes”.

 Practically, to sum up, Pal through Lyctorhood and Paul could be the one to slay the Resurrection Beast that is Varun the Eater. With the help of two other individuals – for some reason I feel one of them would be Pyrrha – they trap Varun in a “lake” – could be the Tomb, could be the First, could be yet another metaphorical body of water – and he is the one who end the RB that allegedly killed and consumed Cassiopeia the First.

That’s the post folks, now the list of ancient Lit that I promised:

Ἀπολλωδώρου, Βιβλιοθήκης Ἐπιτομή, 3.7 /  Apollodorus, library epitome 3.7 (But he, not wishing to go to the war, feigned madness. However, Palamedes, son of Nauplius, proved his madness to be fictitious; and when Ulysses pretended to rave, Palamedes followed him, and snatching Telemachus from Penelope's bosom, drew his sword as if he would kill him. And in his fear for the child Ulysses confessed that his madness was pretended, and he went to the war)

Ὑγίνου, Μύθοι, 105/ Hyginus' fabulae 105

Παυσανίου Ελλάδος Περιήγησις,/ Pausanias' guide to Greece

Γοργίας, Υπέρ Παλαμήδους Απολογία / Gorgias Palamedes’ Defense

Ovid, Metamorphoses pp. 13.34-60, 308-312

Virgil, Aeneid pp. 2.81-85

Plato, Apology 41b

Take care of yourselves! See ya on the next one!

#the locked tomb #tlt #tlt series #tlt spoilers #tlt palamedes #palamedes sextus #palamedes the sixth #camilla hect #tlt theories #names #symbols #Names as symbols #literary parallels #gideon the ninth #nona the ninth

[scarlettjohanssons-mistress]

idk if requests are open but i was wondering if you could do a fanfic about lady lesso having a secret family

Family

Warnings: PURE fluff

Word count: 1.9 K

Pairing: Lady Lesso x Fem!Reader

Prompt: Leonora deserves a little love.

Requests: OPEN

[Main masterlist] [Charlize Theron characters masterlist]

It was known that evil could never have a happy ending.

At least, that is what has been taught for centuries and centuries, from generation to generation. It was unheard of to think that some villain, from any story, would return to a nice cabin with his family, after trying to poison a princess.

Any 'Ever' student could have that same thought about anyone belonging to the 'Never' school, incapable of love. And if the name of the dean of evil slipped into the conversation, the answer was an obvious and resounding NO.

While any human being with two eyes and a few centimeters of a brain could confirm that Lady Lesso is an extremely beautiful woman, they could also classify her as someone 'terrifying'; considering anyone brave who could spend more than five minutes with her, without being scared.

——————————————————————————— 

The weekend was slowly approaching, which made the redheaded woman extremely excited. She was already sick of her incompetent students, of Dovey's constant complaining, of the thousands upon thousands of papers waiting in her office to be reviewed, causing excruciating headaches.

Everything about to end…

Until Emma reached her office, opening the door a little and sticking her head out.

"Leonora?"

"What do you want?" the woman asked without taking her eyes off the exam in front of her. Anastasia, an incompetent who would fail her class for the second time.

“Clarissa requested your presence at the meeting”

The dean's eyes rolled wearily, making her disappointment known.

"Really? Why do you need my presence with… 30 minutes to go before the end of school hours?"

"I don't know, she didn't give me an explanation…"

Before Emma could begin to ramble, Lesso abruptly stood up from her chair and began to pace, hitting the ground next to Emma with her cane, causing the smaller woman to jump.

Quickly, Leonora walked to the room where the meeting was taking place, opening the doors violently, making her arrival known.

"Oh, Lesso," Dovey interrupted, "it's good that you're here."

Leonora didn't even deign to answer, she simply sat in her usual chair and with the help of her magic, materialized a notebook, to scribble and avoid getting bored.

It took her a few minutes to realize that she had brought into the meeting room the notebook she used for her most private matters. Full of vibrant colors and children's drawings.

With a quick movement, and with the eyes of some of her colleagues glued to the notebook, Leonora opened it, hiding the cover and beginning to draw, not listening to Dovey's chatter.

The meeting lasted forever, almost 3 hours after their usual time to leave; but when Dovey finally called the meeting to a close, Leonora was among the first to rise from her seat, until Dovey's voice reached her ears.

"Actually, Lesso, I need to talk to you."

With a great grunt, Leonora watched as her companions left the room, to be left alone with Dovey.

"What do you want?" asked Leonora tiredly

"Relax, I don't want to entertain you" Dovey turned her back on the redhead to take a small basket full of sweets and baked goods "I remembered that last week was Y/N's birthday, so I thought I'd give she her favorite desserts"

The basket reached Leonora's hands, who awkwardly gave a grimace, which she tried to pass off as a smile.

"Thanks suppose. I'll give it to her"

"All right. So… see you on Monday”

"See you on Monday" and just as the redhead walked back to the exit, Dovey's voice interrupted her again.

"By the way, tell Rose she did a good job." The brunette pointed at Leonora's notebook with her eyes, drawing a grunt from the redhead.

"Whatever"

——————————————————————————— 

When Leonora had finally reached her house, she was surprised to find all the lights on; Normally, when she arrived at this time, the only light that was on was the one in the living room, where Y/N was reading a book.

Wearily she opened the door and stepped inside, letting the homey warmth and the smell of the oven reach her face.

The redhead didn't even have to make her arrival home known, to hear those little footsteps on the wood.

"Mom!"

Little Rose ran down the stairs, laughing, until she reached the open arms of the redhead, who quickly picked her up, thanking everyone for how small the girl was.

"Hello little monster"

From the back of the kitchen, the Dean's green eyes collided with Y/N's, causing the latter to show a beautiful smile, seeing the two girls together.

"You're late" Y/N joked

"Go to your room, beast, mommy and I have to talk"

The little girl quickly climbed back up, making the redheaded woman walk until her back was to her wife and hugging her hips.

“Blame it on Dovey” Y/N laughed as she took the food out of the oven “I'm serious Y/N, if I hear another 'Ever' complain again, I'm going to have to cut my ears off.”

“Relax, the good thing is that you are home now, and dinner is ready. Go call Rose, and set the table."

——————————————————————————— 

Dinner was one of Leonora's favorite moments. The feeling of warmth, the delicious food, Y/N's voice along with Rose's giggles and games made her cold heart feel what the warmth of a true home is.

“Today I saw my friend Erick”

Until that wretch's name left Rose's little lips.

The story was very long and very exhausting to tell, but to summarize. Y/N had graduated as a great 'Ever', giving her first kiss to a handsome and gallant prince named Erick. As a good 'Ever', it only took her a few months to commit to the man. But when the man found out that a baby was on the way, he didn't hesitate for a second to abandon the woman with the baby.

Leonora met her almost two years later, while she was on an emergency trip through a town near the school.

She doesn't even remember what made her fall: Y/N's shy look or little baby Rose's babbling.

How had the jerk come to contact his women? Leonora had no idea, but she tried not to get into the subject. She just enjoyed the little girl.

"Really? And did you have a good time?" asked the redhead, seeing how everyone finished dinner, so she got up and took the dishes to wash them.

"Yes. But… I missed you, mom. I like hanging out with him, but I miss when you and I go out to play."

Yes, Leonora could confirm that Rose was one of the few people who could make her believe that she still has a heart.

"Oh honey" Y/N interrupted her by kissing the girl's head "the good thing is that mom is going on vacation, and they can go out to the field every day, to play"

"Don't forget Lily" commented the redhead causing both women to laugh

"Sure, let's not forget Lily"

The baby's cry began to sound, warning that he had woken up.

“Talking about the queen of Rome”

"Come Rose, let's go for her"

——————————————————————————— 

"Are you ready to sleep?" Leonora asked as she tucked in the little girl, who was already beginning to yawn and rub her eyes.

"Yep"

"You stayed up very late today, little naughty" the redhead stroked her hair, trying to make her fall asleep even faster.

"I told mommy I wanted to wait for you"

"I know baby, thanks for waiting for me" the older woman planted a kiss on the girl's forehead.

"I love you so much mom"

"I love you too"

"Tell Lily and Mommy I love them too."

"They love you too, monster"

The girl quickly fell asleep, for which Leonora got up leaving the room, closing the door, to enter her own room, finding her wife and the little baby playing on the bed.

"You don't seem like she want to fall asleep anytime soon, do you?"

"She just wanted to see her mom"

Small emerald eyes met those of the taller woman, eliciting little squeals from the baby.

"Hello, little fairy"

Admitting that little Lily had come into this world thanks to Dovey's kindness and care (and magic), it was very difficult for the redhead to show her gratitude, so she decided that calling the baby 'fairy' was more than enough.

Out of the corner of her eye, the redhead could see how her wife was beginning to yawn, already very tired, and apparently, baby Lily had enough energy to keep her awake for a few more hours.

"My love, go to sleep, I'll take care of Lily" the woman murmured as she snatched the girl from her arms.

"No, I can…"

Leonora interrupted her wife's protests by planting a kiss on her lips and on her nose.

"Honey, you've already done a lot here, let me take care of my girls."

The woman soon fell asleep, so it was Leonora's job to play with the little girl to tire her out.

"Hey, beast, you have to shut your mouth, you're going to wake up mommy and your little sister"

The girl ignored it and tried again to stick her finger in her mother's nose, while she burst out laughing.

As much as she wanted to deny it, her heart vibrated every time she heard her youngest daughter's little laughs, as well as her oldest daughter's voice, and without a doubt, Y/N's kisses only put the garland on the cake.

Some time later, the baby was finally able to fall asleep, so the redhead quickly tucked the girl into her little crib and lay down on her own bed, but in the process, she woke up Y/N.

"Hmm, are the girls asleep yet?"

"Yes, sorry for waking you up"

"Don't worry, let's go to sleep"

A silence settled in the room, but still, Y/N could tell that her wife wasn't asleep.

"Leo, what's up?"

"Do you think… that they hate me?"

"What?"

"Girls, do you think they'll hate me when they find out I'm the dean of evil?"

Y/N got up so he could look at her wife's glassy eyes.

“My love, of course they won't hate you, you're their mother” Y/N began to caress Leonora's face, to keep her eyes from leaving her “You're their favorite person in the world, they love you. We love you, we know that you are not a bad woman. Even if you don't believe it yourself, we know you have a heart; that you feel, that you deserve affection, love. Nobody is completely good or bad, you are not black, nor am I white, we are both gray scales, and they will be able to see that "

The redhead gave her wife a smile and a kiss on the chin

"You know, I'm starting to think that I married you because you always know what to say."

Y/N started laughing as she planted kisses all over her wife's face.

"Admit it, you married me because you love me"

Both women lay back down, ready to go to sleep. Leonora embracing her wife's body from behind, planting kisses on the woman's bare shoulders.

"I love them, so much" confessed the redhead already half asleep

“Your family loves you twice as much”

Because it was known that evil could never have a happy ending.

But, no one is completely good, nor completely bad, and despite that, we all deserve a little love.

Leonora deserves a little love.

Note:

I'm starting to believe that I LOVE writing about Lady Lesso. Thank you for submitting this request.

I hope you enjoy it

I appreciate the reblogs, the likes and the comments

taglist: @littlebitchsposts // @xxsekhmet

message me or send an ask to be added to my taglist!

#the school for good and evil #sge movie #sge #lady lesso #leonora lesso #lady lesso x reader #leonora lesso x reader #lady leonora lesso #lady leonora lesso x reader #charlize theron #charlize theron x reader #clarissa dovey #professor dovey

[yeonyeonyeonjun]

Serendipity

pairing: choi yeonjun x fem!reader

word count: 795

synopsis: You were stood up by your date, when a mysterious man came to take his place.

warning: bickering, Yeonjun being a lovesick puppy, and I think that is all? let me know if I have missed something :)

a/n: this seems a little repetitive, but i just wanted a Yeonjuns pov.

master list for this series

~~~

Choi Yeonjun was having a shitty day. He had been late for class, which had caused him to get scolded by his professor. If that wasn't enough, he was paired with the laziest person in class, and if that wasn't enough, he had missed the last train back home.

Yeonjun had decided to walk back home because who would be insane enough to take an expensive cab? This decision, however, had been the best one he had made today. As he walked by numerous restaurants, he came across the one you were sitting in.

He was surprised to see you sit alone. He wanted to walk right in, taking his chances with you. However, he waited for some time, thinking maybe the douche who was late will be here any second. But to his delight dismay, the douche never shows up. 

He took this as his chance and walked into the restaurant in a rush. Well, faked rush. He could see the surprise on your face as he took the seat opposite yours.

"So sorry, babe, the traffic was preposterous,” Yeonjun said as he watched your face morph in amusement.

“Preposterous? You literally called traffic that?” You replied.

“Hey, I’m trying to help you here, and you’re insulting me?!” Yeonjun joked as you chuckled.

Your chuckle is probably Yeonjun's most preferred sound. He found himself smiling at you.

“Um, well thank you-”

“Yeonjun.” He smiles.

“Yeonjun.” You smiled back.

“So, before this gets awkward and we just start to gawk at each other, why don’t you tell me something about this idiot being who stood you up?” Yeonjun continues, a little bitter that it wasn't him from the beginning to be the one to take you out.

“Well, his name is Leo. He was supposed to show up about, let's say an hour ago?” You draw.

“Be honest, how long have you been waiting?”

“An hour and a half?”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah.” You sigh.

“I’m surprised you haven’t thrown your glass of water at me.” Yeonjun joked, hoping you would cause a scene.

“I know, I should cause a scene. But that old couple sitting diagonally to us have been giving me pitied looks, and they’re looking at us now. So I’m kind of afraid that they might just get a heart attack if I do something this bold.” This makes the Yeonjun laugh.

Yeonjun catches the way your eyes widen at the sound of his laugh, and he thinks maybe, just maybe this date could lead to something more. Maybe him getting to know you and taking you out for real.

“Why did you decide to help me?” You ask, making Yeonjun tilt his head at you in response.

“What do you mean? I saw a pretty girl waiting for some douche and thought why not take a chance and treat you the way you should be treated? Nicely.” Yeonjun said with a smile. He really wished you could read the thoughts in his head and how he was smitten by you already.

“Sounds a little cocky to me.” You challenge.

“Agreed. Let’s just get to know each other as friends first. I am sure you will fall for my charms soon enough.” He smirks and shoots you a wink. Though he wishes nothing more than to take you on better and more creative dates in the future.

“Are you guys ready to order?” The waitress asks, Yeonjun looks at you, as you order.

The entire night went by with you and Yeonjun conversing over something or the other. By the end, Yeonjun found himself a little upset to be saying goodbye.

"Before you leave, I just want to say thank you. For everything." You say with a smile.

"I only accept thank yous in exchange for phone numbers," Yeonjun says with a smile, hoping to get your number.

"Well, here you go then." You say, smiling back.

Yeonjun made sure to walk you to your bus stand, smiling at the fact that he had got your number. Maybe his day finally ended on a good note. Or maybe this was all he needed to turn his shitty day into a better one.

As Yeonjun walked back home, he had a huge grin plastered on his face.

"What's got you smiling so wide? You look creepy." Soobin, Yeonjuns family friend who at this point is basically his brother, asks.

"I went on a date," Yeonjun replies.

"Did I just hear you going on a date?" Beomgyu, Yeonjun's other family friend who is practically his brother asks.

"Yes Beomgyu, a date," Yeonjun says as he walks to his room with a lovesick grin.

"He's down bad." Soobin comments.

"Sure is." Beomgyu agrees as they watch the older man close the door of his room.

---

feedback is appreciated <3

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[everlastingdreams]

The Weeping Monk x Reader : Born In The Dawn Chapter 10

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Story Summary: Locked inside a dark room in a dungeon, kept alive only for your power, you believed you’d never see the daylight again. That is until the Weeping Monk finds his way down and steals you from your captors. It is the beginning of a journey that leads you through hardship and newfound hope, but nothing is assured in a world that is changing for the Fey. The magic that runs in your veins is drawing out the worst the world has to offer, does it include the man who pulled you from the dark?

Chapter Title: The Enemy Of My Enemy

Notes: Considering I'm near done with proofreading, I can give ya'll another chapter.

Warnings: Violence. Torture. Sexual Assault. Rape Threat. Gore. Enemies To Lovers. Pining. Trauma. Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Gore?. Misogyny. PTSD. Spicy and smut parts. Slight redemption arc.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn…

Word count of this fic: +190K

Chapter:  10/ It’s a secret.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You did not see the Monk again until hours later, and when he did walk into the tent you were huddled up into the corner of it.

When he offered you a bowl of soup, you refused to even acknowledge it.

With visible uncertainty he put the bowl on the ground and came closer, reaching down for your hands.

You recoiled, furious that him bringing you here had led to the Reaper finding you.

The feeling from earlier still ran through you, that powerlessness when they had dragged you to your worst nightmare…

And here was the person who had damned you to this fate.

You were on your feet instantly and approached him.

“You did this to me…” You gritted out through your teeth, despair blended with rage. “How could you?!”

It was the second time today that someone had asked him the question with such level of disgust and disappointment in their expression.

The spitting fire in your eyes warned him of what was to come.

And still, he caught himself to be reluctant to stop it.

His reflexes were slower, the first hit you gave landed to his jaw. The others he prevented by grabbing hold of your bound wrists.

Too angry to stop, you tried to set your teeth in his hands.

He was quicker and turned you forcefully, an arm across your arms and chest to keep them from moving, it put him into a safer position.

Even then, you jerked your head back and tried to knock it into his face.

The Monk must have known that the fury made you far more dangerous, he was able to avoid it from happening.

“Stop.” He warned.

He could not manage to sound threatening.

You struggled against his hold, the worst he could do was hurt you, it could never be worse than ending up in the Reaper’s hands.

The struggle got worse. If he took no control, this would get ugly.

Whatever action he had made to get the upper-hand, it worked and got you to your knees, but not without forcing him to his own as well.

He gave one firm pull and blocked your range of motion severely when bringing you completely against his chest.

He locked both of his arms around you like a chain.

Frustration set into you when your fury saw no way of release.

The struggle lasted for a moment longer, until the closeness of the Monk became overbearing.

“Let go off me!” You snarled.

“Once you are calmer.” He told, too close to the back of your neck.

Did he think this was helping?!?

You snapped at him, “I’ll be calmer once your filthy hands are off of me!”

He actually sighed.

You made another attempt to break free.

He prevented it. “If Father knew of this, he would send you to Brother Salt.”

You believed it to be a bluff. “I thought I was needed.”

His words came slow, like he wanted you to fully understand the consequences you could face, “Brother Salt knows many methods to cause pain, even ways that do not cause lasting suffering. Avoid them.”

After taking some deep calming breaths, you asked him, “Why is it, that you have never hit me?”

He went quiet…

Countless times he had been struck into obedience, a grave dislike for it had grown inside of him overtime. It was not the pain that bothered him much, it was the humiliation it brought.

The answer came. “I can restrain you without it.”

It was no lie…

He held on for a little while, whilst you tried to compose yourself.

Then he released you and stood up from the ground, less worried that another attack would come.

He kept some of his fingertips on your shoulder, perhaps to make sure he could respond in time if you made a sudden move.

Still, you smacked his hand away upon feeling it.

The Monk stood still and silent for what felt like minutes.

Your shoulders slumped forward a bit when the defeated feeling came down on you. Feeling the fight leave you little by little every day was destroying your spirit.

Your eyes pressed shut in disappointment.

Slowly he knelt down in front of you, his eyes searching to see the wound inflicted on your hand.

He sounded quiet and remorseful, “I did not know.”

There was a smudge of blood staining your jaw, he should have brought something to wash the blood off.

The never ending threats on your life were pushing you to the edge. “The Reaper has seen my face, he won’t rest until he has me.”

Was that how the Fey called Soran?

“The reaper?” He questioned.

Was he that oblivious?

You snapped at him. “Soran, the Reaper, is the leader of the Brotherhood. The Manbloods who hunt the Dawn Folk! Him and his predecessor are responsible for the erasure of my clan! And now he’s here to take me too!”

He hoped his words would be a comfort. “Father refused to give you to him. We need you.”

You hated to hear him say it. “I am being pulled between evil.”

The Monk foolishly tried to deny it, “We are not evil-”

No. You would not let him deny it any longer.

You all but shouted at him, “You may not burn the children, but your God expects it off you! You serve evil! You bring evil! The Fey who beg for mercy are struck down by the sword before they can even finish their plea!”

He had not expected the rage flying from your mouth.

You snapped your eyes away and caught a glimpse of the tearing in his sleeve where steel must have cut through them.

This time your curiosity did not win, you wanted him to leave you alone.

The Monk was quiet for a moment, then made the polite request, “May I see your hand?”

It struck you as odd that he wasn’t commanding you to show your hand, and actually asked.

That quietness in his voice… it had been like this since he walked in. Was something the matter? No…

No. You could not afford to be concerned for someone who willingly kept you into this hell.

To answer, you brought your hands in close to your chest.

He still tried to reach for it.

It came out viciously, “Don’t you touch me!”

He withdrew his hand fast, as if a cat had lashed out at him.

All he had heard these past few days was others lashing out at him. For his failures, for his actions, all of it.

He understood the response and remained silent.

You bitterly told him what you believed to be happening, “The Reaper and the Weeping Monk working together… how could you?”

He denied it right away. “I am not working with him.”

You pressed him with his nose on the facts. “You serve the same god.”

Another silence went and passed between you.

The Monk stood up, picked a dagger from his belt and used it to cut a piece from his cloak.

The piece was dropped down right into your lap by him.

A small advice came along with it, “Bind it over the cut. Do not let dirt get into it.” When you said nothing, he made another attempt to lighten the mood, “I will bring you something to eat when I return.”

In silence you picked up the piece of fabric and tried to wrap it around your hand. There was only one problem, your wrists being bound made the task ridiculously difficult.

You would not have said a word of it to him, but it must have dawned on him right that second.

He sounded far more uncertain now. “Let me…”

“No.” If that cut was what killed you, so be it.

The Monk gave up on trying to ensure that you did not grow an infection that could be deadly.

The question slipped from your thoughts, “What did he offer, in exchange for me?”

He took a few steps away from you. “A good word to the Holy Father and Abbot Wicklow. Father will not trade you just for words, you will remain with us until Soran proofs that his support will help the mission.”

Your tone grew colder when sensing he was withholding the truth, “What else?”

He had hoped you would not press on. “He vowed to capture and bring us three other Dawn Folk in exchange for you.”

“Like hell he will!” You snarled.

The reaction piqued his curiosity. “Those others, they are your family, are they not?”

The look in your eyes certainly gave it away. “It makes no difference to you anyway.”

He did not respond to the claim and stood there quietly for a moment longer, then turned and walked to the exit of the tent.

“Wait!” You called out and saw him turn to face you somewhat, “Did he say whether or not he knew where to find them?”

With a shallow nod, he confirmed it. “He did. But I believe he was lying.”

You kept eye-contact to see if the Monk was lying, but found no hint of it.

The persisting silence all but made him flee out of that tent. He did not like it, to have another pair of disappointed eyes on him, even though this time he felt like he deserved it.

The Monk walked out, leaving you alone in the guarded tent to return to his work.

Not long after, just before the evening, paladins came to collect you to heal just one of them in the infirmary. One stupid blister on a paladin’s foot, that’s why they brought you there.

At least it did not take long and on the short walk back you saw something shine a bit on the ground. Metal?

It was worth seeing if it could be useful.

You stumbled and fell to your knees on purpose, landing just where the shiny object was, quickly you picked it up and closed your hands around it to hide it.

The paladins pulled you up to your feet again, mumbling something you could not hear well.

It felt sharp against your palm, a good sign.

They dropped you off at the tent again and left, the sun had begun to set.

You opened your hand and saw that the metal object was an arrowhead.

It would take a few minutes to get through the rope, newfound hope settled inside of you.

You got to work right away, it was far from easy and you dropped the thing more times than one could count.

Halfway through the task, a voice coming from outside made you halt.

Someone was cussing up a storm, a boy… Squirrel.

~“Brother Salt will make sure he’ll never open that foul mouth again.”~

The paladins were laughing at the horrors that awaited the boy.

You were on your feet now, a flash of panic fueling you.

No, no, no… not him.

At this point you were cutting so fast that you nicked your skin, it did not matter, you needed to get out of those ropes. It was no longer about your survival, you needed to save Squirrel even if it cost you your own life.

The last string of rope snapped open and fell to the ground when you pulled your wrists apart with force.

Brother Salt’s kitchens were at the other side of this camp, yet they had taken Squirrel in the other direction.

You needed to get rid of the paladins guarding the tent outside to stand a chance to escape.

Often one of them at the entrance would be gone for a short amount of time, either to get a drink or when nature called.

This time you waited at the entrance for that time to come, the long piece of fabric that the Monk had cut from his cloak was ready in your hands.

Every minute you waited was a minute too long and you grew impatient.

Finally, you heard one say something to the other and he walked away.

With quiet steps you got closer and opened the entrance to peek through it.

The paladin stood with his back to it, and you waited until those other paladins in sight had passed by.

You wasted no time to catch the fabric around his neck like a noose and used all your strength to pull him inside the tent. This was life or death for Squirrel and you wouldn’t hold back on strangling a red drape to save a child.

The paladin tried to break free and you tightened the noose, the blows he delivered to your arms would certainly leave bruises behind. He scratched at your throat and drew blood, you felt him weaken and held on.

When he finally fell to the ground, you only let go off the noose when he no longer breathed.

His red brother would return soon and find him missing.

You would help him on his search. A deep cut to the paladin’s hand was enough to soak the piece of cloak in blood.

By squeezing it out just outside the entrance and making a trail his search would be much easier.

You tossed the bloodied cloth on top of the dead paladin and resumed your wait.

The other returned and as assumed found his red brother missing, it took him a few seconds to spot the blood drops on the grass. They led him into the tent, of course he was shocked to find his red brother dead on the ground. He was only a few steps into the tent after unknowingly having walked past you hiding at the entrance.

You took no risks, sneaked up on him and cut his throat with the arrowhead.

The tent was a mess, the wool was soaked in the blood.

There was no way back now, you doubted they would forgive you for butchering two of their comrades.

You stole the sword from one of them and got out of the tent when the coast was clear.

Finding the tent where they kept Squirrel in was not hard, the boy was still cursing his lungs out, staying out of the sight of paladins was another thing. Just like there had been paladins guarding your tent, there were a few guarding the one where Squirrel was.

The tent was near a hitching post where horses stood, seemingly bored by it all.

You went towards it and hid behind a barrel filled wagon. The first thing you did was loosen the reins from the hitching post. You could scare the horses yourself, but they had done you no wrong. It was rare for you to call upon the Hidden for help, but a Fey child was in danger and time was of the essence.

You closed your eyes and prayed they would listen, “Help me save Squirrel. Let me be your weapon…”

Your markings lifted to the surface of your skin and you could feel your eyes change to the green.

The Hidden could sense your intention and heard your plea, their whispers traveled from your ears to the horses.

Your eyes returned to normal and locked on those of a horse.

Now…

The horses became restless and stormed off, knocking over everything and everyone in their sights.

The paladins who had been guarding the tent were quick to give chase.

You used the chaos to quickly make your way over towards the tent and found Squirrel tied with his hands to one of the wooden poles in the midst of it.

“Y/n?!?” The surprise was written all over his face.

You held a finger to your lips and hushed him. “Shhh…”

You hurried to him and carefully cut him free from the ropes. The second his hands were free, he threw his arms around you in an embrace.

Squirrel could not believe that you were here and alive. “I thought they had killed you!”

You quickly looked over his face and hated to see how his eye was blackening already. “No. They are forcing me to heal them, it doesn’t matter now.”

Squirrel spoke ridiculously fast, “They caught the Green Knight! I was trying to save him but they found me and he could not walk anymore.”

The news seemed to greatly sadden the boy, understandably so. The Green Knight was a knight of the Fey, one of the only few left and now he was lost to the hands of the paladins.

You took hold of his hand. “We have to escape this place, Squirrel. Now.”

Surprisingly, he let you pull him along and out of the tent.

A horse would come in handy now, but they had taken some of them to chase the others.

It took some careful searching around the place to find an available one.

Squirrel was the one to point one out.

A black steed. You sighed, knowing exactly who’s horse that was.

It had not let you mount it before and you doubted the steed would allow it now.

“Not that one. He doesn’t like me.” You whispered.

Squirrel send you an odd look, like you were insane.

While sneaking through the camp and avoiding all red, you failed to avoid those in black robes.

Three Trinity Guards had spotted you and you moved Squirrel to stand behind you.

It could not have been more obvious to them that neither one of you belonged there.

“Run.” You urged the boy and gave him a nudge.

It took a second nudge from you before he even took one step away.

A guard spoke the command you already anticipated, “Seize her!”

You weren’t going to just let them and used the stolen sword in your hands to try and hold them off. “Run, Squirrel!”

They were brutal, as their reputation said they were. When you blocked the sword of one of them, another lunged and punched you in the jaw.

Brave young Squirrel did not hold back and launched himself into the fight, trying to hold back their arms as they fought you.

A guard grabbed him and got the boy to the ground and under control.

It only made you more vicious, your sword cut through the hood of one, sending the golden mask flying to the ground.

With a hard kick to your stomach, the other send you falling backwards and to the ground.

The kick had knocked the air out of you, and you saw Squirrel being handed over to the paladins again. “No! Squirrel!”

You wanted to get up but received a boot to your back.

A slash at the guards leg was the last thing your sword had to offer before they ripped it from your hand.

They twisted your arm on purpose when pulling you up from the ground.

Those damned bastards dragged you along and not a minute later presented you to Father Carden.

The Abbot was present and their conversation was interrupted by this.

Abbot Wicklow looked at you as if you were a strange curiosity. “Is the girl Soran spoke off? The Dawn Folk Fey?”

The priest confirmed it. “It is.”

To make matters worse, a panicking Paladin ran over and loudly exclaimed, “Father! Father! Two of our brothers were found dead in the tent of the Fey girl!”

The priest looked like he wanted to strike down the paladin for saying this while the Abbot was next to him.

Father Carden had no choice but to have you punished for this, the Abbot had already seen his Weeping Monk defy him publicly. Being lenient towards the enemy would not be wise now.

The priest began his judgment, “Brother Salt will see the boy after he is done with the Green Knight. She-”

The Abbot oh so kindly offered, “Perhaps the Trinity Guard can cleanse her of these violent tendencies with the whip? Forty lashes will suffice, I believe.”

Forty?!?

Father Carden agreed to the sentence and allowed two of the Trinity Guard to take you away. One of them took over a rope that a paladin offered and took it along.

They took you to another tent, the tallest collected a whip that was placed on what looked to be an alter of sorts, a cross was placed on the middle of it.

The other gave the order, “Face the cross and bare your back.”

You did not know how to respond, but you could sense that they would not take ‘no’ for an answer and ‘help’ you out of your clothes if needed be.

Your hesitation took too long for their liking and the one without the whip came to you, sword in hand.

You hated how you backed away from him, their reputation was known among the Fey. “I’ll do it!”

He barked the command, “Turn to the cross!”

Part of you was grateful for it, because your eyes were getting watery. If you obeyed and lived through this, if the Hidden had mercy on you, you could still try to save Squirrel.

You forced your hands to stop trembling when taking of your vest and letting it drop close to your feet. The bodice was next and you paused when it was the shirt’s turn, it was where your courage left you.

By praying quietly to the Hidden to give you strength you tried to calm yourself down, you did not want them to see you cry or pray.

You hugged the shirt to your chest after you took it off, and they ordered you to kneel down.

The cold air went over the skin off your bare back without mercy.

This was humiliating. You took solace in the knowledge that all they intended to do was punish you with the whip.

You drew in deep breaths, an attempt to try and prepare for the pain.

With the first strike of the leather on your back, you knew it was a futile attempt.

Within seconds, blood trailed it’s way down your back and your eyes stung with tears from the pain.

The second lash of the whip cut through your skin and you pressed your lips shut to stop the quiet scream that threatened to sound.

Just breath… just breath…

You shut your eyes, only two of forty and they did not hold back on using their strength to do this.

Sadists. Just as the Fey had always described them.

The Trinity Guard got the whip ready for the next lash, they were ignoring your silent prayers that fell to deaf ears.

You clutched the shirt to your chest.

Weak, exposed, humiliated…

And all you could think of was Squirrel on his way to be tortured by Brother Salt.

He had to be saved…

The third lash struck the air out of your lungs, your grip on the shirt was near painful.

You could hear him pull the whip back towards himself and prepared yourself for the next lash.

“Who-” One of them began to speak.

You heard a strange noise and the other cursed, it made you look over your shoulder.

The one without the whip was on his knees, trying to stop the heavy flow of blood from pouring out of his throat, it was a gruesome sight.

If you had blinked, you would have missed the Monk sinking the short sword into the other’s neck and pull it out again.

What was happening?!?

A freed Squirrel was about to run over to you but the Monk caught him by the back of his vest before he could.

The state you were in now… this was not how you wanted the boy to see you. Or the Monk for that matter.

He told Squirrel, “Wait here.” And came over to you.

You locked your eyes on his face. “Don’t!”

The Monk halted and kept his eyes on the ground. “Put your clothes back on.”

It didn’t need to be said to you.

You felt your face burn and that embarrassment shone through in your tone, “I will. Turn around! Both of you.”

The poor boy was looking at all the blood running down your back and the Monk turned him around by the vest and held on.

Putting your clothes on over those bleeding cuts was anything but painless. Your back burned from them.

Why was the Monk here?

Why was Squirrel with him?

Why had he killed the Trinity Guards???

Once you were done getting dressed in a hurry you walked over to Squirrel to pull him out of the Monk’s grasp, and you fired your questions, “Why are you here? What is the meaning of this?”

The Monk replied in a hushed voice, “The boy refused to leave without you.”

The child had threatened to shout his lungs out and make it known to everyone that he had killed Brother Salt to free him, if he did not free you as well.

It did not sound like a terrible idea to free you in order to ensure the boy could get to safety.

And now that he had seen what was being done to you…

He would not watch another suffer the path he had suffered.

You were staring at this enigma of a man.

He noticed how you were trying to keep the boy from being anywhere near him. “Remain quiet and I will lead you out of the camp. Not a word, not a sound! Follow me.”

You did not trust him, but you wanted Squirrel away from this place swarming with enemies.

When the Monk stepped outside, you looked down at Squirrel.

“He freed me… cut a paladin’s throat for it.” The boy seemed as baffled as you were now.

He. Did. What?!?

You had no chance to ask something, the Monk’s hand shot into the tent again and fished out Squirrel’s arm.

Quickly you rushed out after them and kept up with the Monk’s fast walking pace.

By the looks of it, he was marching right to the black steed.

He suddenly stopped and you nearly bumped into Squirrel.

First you looked at the Monk, then at what had stopped him dead in his tracks.

The Abbot stood there with a group of Trinity Guards, as if he always expected this to occur.

The Monk looked at you from the corner of his eyes, like he hoped you would not notice how he was keeping track of your exact location on the spot.

Abbot Wicklow saw the look in the Monk’s eyes. “I wouldn’t.”

It had been his intention to let go off the boy and let him run. But the Abbot made it no secret that it would mean certain death for the child.

He drew Squirrel back in closer and faced the Abbot.

Wicklow stepped closer. “Does he remind you off someone? This… Fey orphan?

The Monk moved Squirrel behind him. “You don’t need him.”

Not like they needed and chose him all those years ago.

Not this boy, not another child, no more.

The Abbot looked at the three of you as if you were the dirt beneath his boots, “Why? Can’t he smell out his own kind like some kind of animal?” Then he let it be known that he knew exactly what the Monk was. “Or is that just your species?”

You could feel the tension rise between them, this felt like a personal matter you and Squirrel were trapped between. You took a small step closer and formed a barrier between Squirrel and that infuriating disgusted look the Abbot was sending.

The Abbot put his attention on your presence. “Can he heal others, as she can?”

The child nor you should ever end up in the hands of the Abbot and the Trinity Guard. The suffering would be endless and cruel.

The Monk had his hand on the pommel of his sword and turned to you, pushing the boy into your hands. “Find cover.”

Your eyes locked on his, something in them had changed. The presence of fear in his reflected in your own.

You did not need to be told twice to get out of there and ran off with the Squirrel for cover.

Stuck in the middle of an enemy camp with armed paladins and not a weapon on you.

And the Monk faced a group of Trinity Guards ready to fight.

The Abbot offered a chance for the Monk to come to his senses, “You do have a reputation, but this is the Trinity Guard. You know their skill.”

You believed the Monk signed his own death sentence when he drew both his swords and accepted to fight instead of surrender.

It visibly annoyed the Abbot as well. “So be it.”

You were trying to think of a way to escape this hell when the fight commenced.

Never had you seen anyone fight like the Monk, the way he turned in the air…

He landed and made quick work of the first two, blood rained down upon the grass around them.

Six of them.

Six Trinity Guards fell to the sword of the Grey Monk, and not a single one of theirs had touched him.

For a brief moment in time, it made you forget the situation you were in.

By the heaven’s this man could fight.

Dammit…

You tried to keep your voice hushed, “Squirrel, we need to get to the horses!”

The boy did not let you pull him along, “What about him?”

When you turned back to look, the Monk was being challenged by the six remaining Trinity Guards.

These guards were smarter than the previous ones, flails were used to disarm the Monk of his swords, he was struck by one on his back.

They remained at a distance, like cowards, while beating him with the flails.

Even when they got him to his knees, they did not stop and aimed for his face.

Once across the jaw and the last strike of a flail hit him from below the chin at a force strong enough to break someone’s skull and neck.

The whispers of the Hidden rang in your ears, they fumed with anger at what was being done to one of their kind by the Church again.

Dammit…

You should not be getting involved, you could finally flee.

Just grab the boy and flee… just…

Dammit.

“Stay here. Stay hidden.” You hoped he would stay behind these barrels.

They kicked the Monk in his back again as you looked around for fallen weapons.

You ran over to the nearest sword you could find, you were not unskilled with the sword, but they were Trinity Guards.

If the Hidden insisted on the Monk’s survival, there must be a reason, you hoped there was. A moment of distraction was what you could offer and you attacked the nearest Trinity Guard.

“Seize her!” The Abbot commanded, knowing that a Fey with your ability was truly valuable to the Church.

The Trinity Guard had to block the blade of your sword with his arm and countered your attack.

With a kick to his stomach you send him stumbling backwards and another came to his aid.

A flail wrapped it’s chain around your sword and snatched it from your hand.

“Shit!” You cursed aloud.

The Trinity Guard you had attacked swung at you and you were just too late to avoid the blow completely, his fist still impacted with the side of your head and send you to the ground.

Squirrel hit the head of the Trinity Guard, who was about to give the death blow to the Monk, with a rock.

Then the boy ran over and picked up a fallen sword too, “Who’s first?”

It nearly gave you a heart attack to hear Squirrel challenging them with the sword.

Who would have thought that the sight of the boy risking his life, was enough for the Monk to find the will to fight again?

The Monk grabbed a sword from the ground and cut through two of the Trinity Guards by the time he was fully on his feet again. He blocked the attack of another and sank his sword into their back, then pushed the guard into two others to keep them at a distance.

With the strength in his attacks, the sword sliced through the golden mask of another and blood spilled through it. His sword returned and cut through the abdomens of the other two. One threatened to get up and was speared to the ground with the sword. Another that made an attempt got his neck snapped by the Monk.

It all happened so fast, by the time you were back on your feet, most of the Trinity Guard were either dead or bleeding out on the ground.

“Gods…” You muttered in shock and even secret awe.

The arrogant twat picked up his own sword and raised it, publicly challenging to fight the Abbot too. It was a miracle he was even on his feet but the second this man had a taste of battle…

Abbot Wicklow did not accept the challenge and fled the place in a haste.

It felt like the Monk found some joy in seeing the coward flee after this.

You saw the Monk sink to his knees, the sword fell from his hand.

He could barely keep himself up on his knees anymore, the injuries he had sustained would have easily killed anyone who did not wear such padded clothing to take most of the impact.

Squirrel was the first to run over to him and grabbed hold of his arm, “Come on, we have to go!” The Monk was visibly drowsy, “Come on! Get up!”

You went over to help and wasted no time to grab the other arm to put it over your shoulder to support his weight, he grabbed his sword up off the ground and clumsily got it in it’s sheath.

The rain made the ground slippery and it was not simple to keep your footing.

“To the horses!” You said, ignoring how odd it was that the Monk just let you drag him away for once.

Of course the Monk steered the two of you a little, first to the short sword he wanted back, then right towards the black steed who didn’t like you very much.

You felt your hands get covered in his blood, “Can you mount?”

He did exactly that, then reached a hand down and offered to let the boy ride with him, “Come on.”

The offer was made to you in silence as well but you did not feel comfortable with that idea.

So you took a sword from the ground again and stole your own horse, quietly disliking how quick Squirrel was to trust the Weeping Monk.

You rode next to them as he leaded you out of that camp, but you never took your eyes off of him nor Squirrel.

Just because he had betrayed the Church, did not mean that he would not betray you.

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#the weeping monk #lancelot x reader #cursed lancelot #cursed #cursed netflix #weeping monk #weeping monk x reader #weeping monk x you #lancelot #the weeping monk x reader #daniel sharman character #daniel sharman

[chronic-escapixt]

His Rose ~ Part 2

(Kai Parker x Bennett OC fanfiction)

content warnings/tags ~ Dark fiction, (eventual) CNC, dubcon, non-con, yandere, murder, abuse, trauma, smut, innocence kink, mutual attraction, slow burn, manipulation, childhood trauma mentioned. Minors DNI

I don't claim ownership of The Vampire Diaries or its characters. All credits go to the rightful owner(s). I only own my original character(s).

Word count: 1.7k

K.P. Masterlist

Burning candles lined each side of the table where Rose and Kai sat across from each other with a map between them. He suggested they use Portland, Oregon as a starting point to locate the ascendant. He told her it was the hometown of the Gemini leader. He lifted the dagger and dragged the jagged edge across his palm to draw blood before dripping it on the map. In turn, Rose started the incantation: “Phasmatos Tribum, Nas Ex Veras, Sequitas Sanguinem…”

He watched, waiting for the location to reveal itself but nothing happened. Even the flames kept a consistent burn, failing to rise as they should in reaction to magical energy. She continued the chant, her voice wavering until he stopped her. “What are you thinking about right now?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t know… I just don’t want to mess this up.” 

“That’s your problem. If you keep imagining yourself failing, then that’s what will manifest in your spells. Magic draws on your energy and emotions.” She nodded and took a deep breath to settle her nerves before beginning again. The crimson droplets twitched before they conjoined into one surging arrow as the candle fire erupted into a light roar. Rose peaked down at the map. “Keep going. You’re almost there.”

She continued until the blood gathered in one spot, the candle flames dying out in unison. “Oh my god, it worked…” she whispered as soon as her eyes opened.

“Don’t sound so shocked. You’re a Bennett witch. You know, my coven has a long history with Bennetts. Your magic is one of the most powerful of any coven, that’s why they seal prison worlds with your blood magic.” He searched her eyes, detecting insecurity, “you doubt yourself too much.”

Her face warmed, but she didn’t avert her eyes from his. “Thank you for the advice.” 

“Don’t mention it.”

Without wasting time, they got on the road to Oregon, with Kai taking the first turn behind the wheel. After only half an hour on the road the silence unnerved him, prompting him to strike up a conversation.

“You never told me how you ended up here.” He glanced at her.

“The truth is, my sister Bonnie was supposed to, not me. Her life was bound to the Other Side but it was falling apart and I couldn’t sit back and let her die... again.”

“So, you sacrificed yourself for her?”

“Yeah.. I guess I did. I was looking for any way to help, then this spell practically fell into my lap. It let me switch places with her and time was running out so… I just did it.”

Confusion contorted his face “But why?”

She turned sharply, “Because she’s my sister and she always puts everyone before herself, especially me. But more than that, she’s the smartest and most beautiful person I know. If anyone deserves life, it's her,” she frowned, “if I had more time, I would have told her that.”

He wanted to ask more questions because truthfully, the idea of loving someone, let alone a sibling that much was.. puzzling, but he saw how emotional it made her, so he went the reassuring route. "You can tell her everything you need to when we get you back home."

She nodded.

After a day and a half, it neared midnight when they arrived in Portland. Rose snored softly beside him having been asleep for the better part of an hour. Kai took over the last stretch of driving, glad that she was asleep so he wouldn’t have to pretend to follow the map. He didn’t need the locator spell in the first place. The ascendant was exactly where he left it. The spell was a test that showed him she had the ability to do magic. Her low confidence and inconsistency could be an obstacle but he hoped that wouldn't be an issue come the eclipse.

They pulled up to a large white house at the end of a gravel road surrounded by a modest expanse of field and woodland. He nudged her awake before they got out and approached the house.

“The ascendant is here?” she asked, staring back at the facade.

“The spell led us to this address,” he confirmed.

An odd feeling took hold of her. Maybe it was dread, but she couldn’t quite place it. Whatever it was left her feet stationary at the cobblestone just before the porch steps. “Rose… Roseee, are you.. coming?”

She nodded and followed him, pushing down the indiscernible feeling.

Little did she know, this place had unpleasant memories for many, especially those familiar with its bloody history. Having grew to befriend his demons, Kai found a twisted comfort with the place that nurtured them through a childhood of abuse and depravation.

They searched the house together, starting with the ground floor and moving deeper until they reached the study. Her eyes locked onto the brown trunk against the far wall. She removed the heavy grimoires stacked on top and fumbled with the lock.

“I have a feeling it’s in here but the trunk is locked,” she stated. Kai searched the desk, opening drawers until he found a small key. He crouched down beside her and put the key in the lock, turning until the subtle click sounded. She reached inside, pulling out a circular piece of metal with a small reflective crystal in the center. 

Before the night ended, Kai brought her down to the nearby caverns which he said would be an ideal location to access direct moonlight for the spell. Rose followed in silent awe, tracing her fingers along the granite walls that glistened in hues of blue. They stopped below the skylight which granted direct access to the moon above. “It’s beautiful,” she remarked breathlessly. He turned to her, immediately noticing the way her eyes sparkled, taking on a silvery color in place of their usual hazel hue. Her gaze met his just before he could look away and pretend he wasn’t staring.

“We should head back and get some rest. It’s been a long day,” he finished with a stretch and a yawn. 

Bubbles rose to the surface as he topped her glass with Pinot Grigio. Kai insisted she relax while he made dinner in exchange for the meal she made him the other night. She complied despite her desire to help, not only because she knew her way around a kitchen but also just to be close to him. His energy, his scent, the slightest physical contact gave her full body goosebumps.  

Sip after sip had her inhibitions waning until her eyes shamelessly traced his body, the contour of his back, the ever moving muscles that bulged along his arms as he worked with his hands. He was saying something, but it all faded into the background. His broad shoulders were strained by his tight t-shirt, sleeves clinging to his biceps. She silently thanked him for taking off that hoodie before cooking. He poured some wine into the hot pan before bringing the bottle to his lips and taking a generous sip.

She watched with baited breath.

He swallowed then turned to her suddenly, “Do you like shellfish?”

“Yes!” She blurted out loud. If her face could get any hotter it would have, “I mean, yeah… shellfish is fine,” she murmured quietly. Kai turned back to the stove, stifling a chuckle.

They ate a shrimp pasta with a white wine reduction and finished off the bottle of Pinot. Perhaps it was the wine or the way he looked at her like she was the most interesting person alive but she felt open enough to tell him all about her life back in Mystic Falls.

Although he liked to talk, Kai was attentive to her stories, vampires, love-triangles, originals and travelers. He took particular interest when she mentioned a pair of twins, Liv and Luke Parker. “Bonnie met Liv in her occult studies class. She’s really powerful. She gave me a few lessons in channeling.”

Kai looked up from his wine glass, “what about the guy... Luke?”

Rose thought for a second, “Oh, I only met him once. He was nice and I heard he was even more powerful than Liv.”

As the meal wrapped up, he asked if she enjoyed it. “It was delicious. Where did you learn to cook like this?” 

He chuckled. “I’ve had to cook for myself for almost 20 years now, so I’ve picked up a few things along the way.” 

“How did you do it? Spending so many years alone without anyone to talk to must have been difficult,” she inquired.

Kai offered a strained smile, “Loneliness isn’t new to me. I've always been by myself for as long as I can remember.” 

“Why?” she asked. 

“My dad kept me away from my family. He said I was an abomination. In his defense, I’m not like other witches in my coven.. I can’t make my own magic. I can only siphon it from others. Ever since I was little, he forced me to stay away from everyone else or face whatever punishment he felt like doling out. Early on, I wanted to be around them, but I quickly realized it was safer to just stay to myself.”

“Kai, that’s horrible. He couldn't be more wrong about you.”

He raised his hand, “If I touched you right now, I could siphon your magic right out of your body. Doesn’t that scare you?” 

Rose stared back unwavering, “I’m not afraid of you.” She closed the distance between their hands brushing her fingers against his. “I trust you and I’d let you have some if you asked, I'm not that good with magic anyway.” 

For the first time, she did something he didn't expect. He could almost get lost in her soft touch and genuine eyes but couldn’t afford to. Reminding himself of his plan in which her purpose did not include making him vulnerable. His hand slid away and he rose from the table.

“I should get started on the dishes.” 

“I’ll help you,” she chirped after him. 

“No-no, I got it,” he insisted. 

She frowned, suddenly noticing his mood change. Whether she had crossed a boundary she wasn't supposed to or the topic of his childhood made him uncomfortable (or both), she didn't push it any further, hoping that by giving him space, he would feel more at ease and open up to her about his past but clearly, that wouldn't happen tonight. Rose stood up and said goodnight before heading upstairs.

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