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elvish-sky · 3 years

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How Gandalf and Pippin Put Aside Their Differences for the Greater Good {Faramir x Reader}

A.N: OK GUYS- i literally tied my hand to my sister’s to figure out some of the logistics of movement for this. She thinks I’m crazy now. But I loved this request! I’m currently catching up on requests and also dealing with some personal issues, and I haven’t been happy with anything I’ve written in a really long time, but I’m really happy with this! It would mean so much to me if you guys liked it too, I put so much work into this and I’m so proud of it!

also- a thousand thank you’s to @gossip-girl-of-middle-earth for giving me an idea for this fic. i appreciate you letting me use it so so much. thank you.

Requested by @raineeace on Tumblr: Your recent request you wrote was beyond cute! You’re an amazing writer, so catch me reading the rest of your LOTR content !! I also wanted to request something as well! Can you do a Faramir x Fem!Reader and Gandalf and/or Pippin try to get them together? I loved the how you wrote Aragorn as cupid, and I wanted to ask if you could make these two matchmakers as well? Lots of fluff please and I can’t wait to see what you come up with! :)

Word Count: 2,334

Pairing: Faramir x Reader

Summary: You and Faramir have been mooning over each other for months, but nothing has come of Pippin’s efforts to get you together. What happens when Pippin enlists the help of a certain wizard?

Warnings: Fluff, Humor

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How Gandalf and Pippin Put Aside Their Differences for the Greater Good {Faramir x Reader}

Pippin leaned over the banister, watching you and Faramir walk together below. You smiled at something the man said, then nodding your head goodbye and walking away. The hobbit watched as Faramir stood there, watching you go, looking oddly lonely.

Pippin had been watching/trying to get you and Faramir together for a while now. He had first noticed the chemistry and romantic tension between you when everyone was gathered waiting for Frodo to heal, and decided to do something about it. Now, months later, nothing had happened. Pippin thought that at this point neither of you was ever going to confess your very obvious feelings for the other.

At least, not without some extra help.

“Come on, Gandalf, please?”

The wizard shook his head, “I cannot believe you are still going on about this.”

“They need the help,” Pippin told him, “Plus, getting them to admit their feelings to each other would help them, and ease your exasperation with the two of them for walking in circles around each other!”

The wizard shook his head. “I’m not going to help you with this!”

“It’s for the greater good! Can you really stand to see the two of them mooning over each other all the time?”

“That’s true. It’s getting ridiculous,” Gandalf sighed, “Fine. I’ll help. Where do we start?”

Back in your room, you lifted your head from your desk as a loud, hobbitish whoop rand through the air. You chalked it up to Pippin hitting another elf, probably Legolas, with an apple, and returned to your work. You hoped that it wasn’t Legolas that Pippin had hit, because the last time that happened Legolas had promptly eaten the apple, and Pippin had bemoaned the loss of his snack for weeks.

That night, you left your room, closing the door behind you and setting off down the hallway. You’d barely made it fifteen feet when another door opened right in front of you and Faramir came rushing out, crashing into you.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there, I feel terrible!”

“It’s okay!”

You shuffled your feet, nervous to be so close to the person you’d been in love with for months.

It was also weird how close your rooms were- Aragorn had given everyone from the Fellowship and friends special quarters after his coronation. You could understand why the hobbits’ rooms were so close together, but wondered why Aragorn had placed you and Faramir almost directly across from each other. Probably because the two of you worked together the closest on negotiations with the other kingdoms.

Eventually, Faramir broke the silence with an awkward laugh.

“So, late to dinner?”

You smiled, glad he’d spoken first.

“Yeah. I got so focused on drafting that new trade agreement with the Iron Hills that I didn’t realize how low the sun was.”

He nodded. “I completely understand, I’ve done that far too many times, working on something like that or staying outside the city for far too long.”

Laughing, you looped your arm through his. “We should get to dinner before Aragorn yells at us.”

You entered the hall together, pushing open the doors to see your friends all seated around the high table. Dinners with the group had started when everyone was waiting for Frodo to heal and wake up and had just continued on, everyone reluctant to give up the time spent together.

Letting go of Faramir’s arm, you took your usual seat between him and his brother.

“What prompted you two to arrive together?” Boromir winked at you as he whispered.

“Huh? Oh, we just bumped into each other in the hall.”

“Sure, sure,” he smirked as he spoke.

“Pass the potatoes, please, Boromir.” You were determined to change the subject, and, happily, it seemed to have worked.

What you didn’t notice was Gandalf staring intently at you and Faramir, muttering something under his breath as Pippin watched gleefully.

You yawned, pushing your empty plate away with a groan.

“I’m stuffed. And tired. I think I’ll head to my rooms.”

Everyone said goodbye, and you pushed back your chair and went to stand.

But you couldn’t.

There were handcuffs on, one on your wrist, and the other on Faramir’s. And they hadn’t been there a moment ago.

“Who handcuffed us?” You were bewildered.

“Gandalf…” Faramir glared at the wizard.

Gandalf glanced behind himself, and, seeing no one, turned back around with an innocent expression.

“What could I have done to make this happen?” He gestured to your hands, still handcuffed together.

Faramir said, “I don’t know, but it had to have been you!”

“Ask yourself this, Faramir. What motivation could I have possibly had? I think one you probably just ran astray of something else?”

You sucked in a deep breath.

“Okay, then, how do we make it stop?”

“Only time will tell,” the wizard nodded sagely.

“What are we supposed to do until then?” You exclaimed.

“Just stay together? Do everything together?” Pippin looked all too pleased by this.

“Fine. C’mon Faramir.”

The man rose, and together you marched out of the hall, handcuffs clanking, never moving further than five inches apart.

Once in the hallway, you turned to Faramir, panicked.

“What do we do? We’re stuck five inches, or less, apart from each other for Eru knows how long, we both have important duties.”

“And there’s going to the bathroom, and sleeping, and eating..” he was just as freaked out as you.

You turned to each other.

“What are we going to do?!”

“Y/N, Faramir, chill.”

You tried to turn, but the clanking and tug on your wrist stopped you as you spun the wrong way, twisting yourself with Faramir.

“Ok, no wait,” he backed up, accidentally taking you with him.

“Here, go this way, move your hand left.”

“No, no, my left, my left.”

“Spin this way?”

“You go under, I go over?”

“Aha! Yes, that worked!” You high-fived each other clunkily, and turned, making sure to bring your arms over your heads so that your hands fell back again.

“Oh, Pippin! What were you saying?”

Pippin smiled at Faramir. “I can help.”

“Would you mind telling us how?”

“You just have to accept it!”

“WHAT?” You screamed in unison.

Back in the hall, Aragorn winced at the echo of the yell.

“Are you sure this was a good idea?” He questioned the wizard.

“Of course not,” Gandalf replied, “but it was not mine. It was all Pippin, and if anything goes wrong that’s who we’ll blame.”

Legolas chuckled. “Alright then. We’ll leave it all on Pippin.”

Boromir raised a mug of ale. “TO-”

He was cut off by a resounding shush, and, chastened, began again.

“To Y/N and Faramir”

Everyone echoed the sentiment, quietly, and clinked their mugs.

Back in the hallway, you and Faramir were glaring at Pippin.

“You want us to just live like this?”

“Yes! You’ll be fine, maybe it’ll wear off soon, and maybe you’ll learn something.”

“Ughhhhhh,” you stormed away, dragging Faramir behind you.

Approaching your door, you were suddenly stopped when Faramir halted behind you.

“What?”

He shuffled his feet. “Whose room are we staying in?”

You considered. “Which one is bigger? We’ll need all the maneuvering space we can get.”

You walked together over to your doorway, poking your heads inside before moving back to his.

“Yours.”

“Mine?” He asked.

“Yeah. You have more space and a bigger bed. Let’s just go back to my room so that I can grab a few things if I’ll be staying with you indefinitely.”

“How are we going to do this?”

You stared at Faramir’s bed.

“I have absolutely no idea.”

You hadn’t thought this situation could get any more awkward, but there it was. The crown jewel of awkwardness, coming out to torment you. It had been bad enough attempting to change into your nightclothes, which you’d managed by turning your backs to each other to put them on, and only wearing one sleeve. But this was worse.

You decided to just go for it, and climbed into the bed, sliding under the sheets. Your movement pulled the handcuffs so that Faramir went with you, and you ended up on one side of the bed, him on the other, hands cuffed together in the center.

“This is not very comfortable,” Faramir observed.

That was true. You were lying flat on your back when you always slept on your side, and you were literally handcuffed to another person. Unable to stand the absurdity of it all, you broke out into laughter.

Faramir joined in, and you laughed together until you had tears in your eyes. His smile was so bright in the dimly lit room, and you could listen to his laugh for a thousand years without getting sick of it.

When the laughter subsided, you decided nothing could be more uncomfortable than the position your body was currently stuck in.

“Do you usually sleep on your side?”

Faramir nodded, looking a little confused.

“Ok. I’m going to try something, it’s going to be really awkward, but we might actually be able to sleep.”

“I trust you, Y/N. Whatever you’re going to do will be fine.”

You smiled at him, internally still freaking out that you were sharing a bed with Faramir. But there was no time to panic, your shoulder was killing you.

Taking a deep breath, you flipped so that the handcuffed arm was now underneath you, chain stretching up to where Faramir’s arm hovered.

“Would you be alright with putting your arm over my waist?” You wanted to make sure he was comfortable with all this.

Craning your neck, you saw a faint blush creeping up his face in the dusky light.

“Only if it’s ok with you,” he seemed nervous.

You were too, but you nodded and felt him slowly settle his arm around your waist.

Once it was there, his hand gently hanging near your stomach, you both relaxed, letting out sighs as the tension left your bodies simultaneously.

And then you giggled. Again, because this was just too ridiculous.

He laughed too. “You alright?”

You nodded, the movement of your head bumping into his chest as he sucked in a breath.

“I’m good.”

It took a while for each of you to fall asleep, brains spinning with thoughts of the person next to you. But eventually, you did.

It was the best you had slept in years.

The next day, the two of you began to figure out how to go around with your hands stuck together. You ate by spooning the food into each other’s mouths one at a time, which you were pretty sure Boromir was sketching to memorialize forever.

You blinked your eyes open the next day to sunlight streaming through the windows, and soft breathing behind you. Carefully, you turned around so that your hands now rested between your bodies.

Faramir’s face was glowing with the light of the morning sun, hair spread on the pillow. You’d never seen him so peaceful, and he looked gorgeous like some Vala come across the world to Gondor.

Unable to resist the impulse, you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

You quickly moved back, only to notice that the weight on your hand was gone.

You looked down.

The handcuffs were gone.

“Faramir! Faramir!” You shook him awake.

“What, Y/N?” He asked groggily.

His morning voice was perfection itself, and you had to bring yourself back to reality.

“The handcuffs are gone. Look!”

He shot up at this, looking down at his now-free hand.

“Wow! We should probably go let Gandalf know.”

You nodded. “Meet you in the hall in ten minutes?”

He gave you a thumbs up, and the last thing you saw as you closed the door was Faramir marveling at his now-free wrist.

Later, in the room that Gandalf had claimed as his office right next to the large hall where you usually ate, you sat together.

The wizard inquired, “What exactly happened?”

“The handcuffs were gone when I woke up,” Faramir told him.

“That shouldn’t have just happened. They were supposed to disappear when a physical manifestation of your affection for each other happened.”

“You did this?” You were outraged.

“Yes, Y/N, I did.”

Sensing that you were about to interrupt in outrage again, he added on.

“It should have been a physical manifestation of affection that was not circumstantial because of the handcuffs.”

You sighed, knowing what it was.

Faramir turned to you. “Do you know what it could have been?”

You stared straight at the floor.

“I… kissed your cheek when I woke up this morning.”

He blinked at you, shocked. Gandalf discreetly slipped out the door.

“You just looked so handsome in the sunlight with your hair glowing and I couldn’t resist and I’m so sorry and I’ll leave Gondor right now and never come back and what you must think of me no-”

“Y/N.”

You stopped rambling, looking at Faramir. He leaned closer to you, and in the depths of his eyes, you saw nothing but love. He paused for a moment, head tilted as if asking for your permission.

You nodded your head.

Faramir moved closer, tilting your chin up so that his lips met yours, kissing you oh-so-gently. Then somehow you were standing, lips still touching his as he surged closer and kissed you harder, like all the passion and feeling in the world was just pouring out of him and into you.

Finally, you broke apart, smiles on both your faces.

“I think I love you.,” you said, then clapped a hand over your mouth.

Faramir smirked. “It’s okay, Y/N.”

He pressed his forehead to yours. “I love you too.”

You gazed at each other for a few moments, before you grabbed his hand.

“Now, let’s go kill a wizard.”

Opening the doors to the hallway, you saw said wizard suddenly disappear.

You corrected yourself.

“Let’s go kill that wizard once he returns from wherever he’s hidden himself.”

Faramir laughed. “Let’s kill Gandalf later. For now, would you like to go for a walk?”

You smiled at him, looping your arm through his and pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Lead on, my love.”

Everything tag❤️: @entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @boyruins @anjhope1 @kumqu4t @katbby16 @thewhiteladyofrohan @kirstenscaffeinateddisaster @beenovel @shethereadinghobbit @guardianofrivendell @hey-its-nonny

Fic tag: @eru-vande @annkdarar @lust4crust @the-reformed-ringwraith @ethereal-earendil

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nyx-aira · 3 years

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Precious

Requested by anon

Summary: You and Nat meet for the first time. You become inseparable and your friendship soon turns into more.

A/N: I'm honestly not completely happy with this one but here you go.

Taglist:@escapetodreamworld @midnight-lestrange @ynscrazylife @procrastinatingsapphictrash @ineffablebean @caseyfish @wlwlovesreading @satxnsupreme @ycfwmalise14 @yelenabelovasgf

TW: mention of injuries

It wasn't supposed to be that way but there was no way to stop it.

When Bucky went with Steve after the events of Civil War Natasha followed. She didn't know why but something told her that this was the right decision. And she was right.

It had been a tough time. They had been fugitives and also Bucky's troubles were things that made things a lot more difficult.

They had been on a mission on Bucky's wish, something about saving a good friend out of the clutches of HYDRA. Their mission brought them to Prague where they broke into a small apartment and waited. For what, Natasha didn't know but she trusted Steve's judgement and Bucky's instincts.

They didn't have to wait long for the apartment door to open and Natasha had to doge to not get hit by multiple throwing knives. She was fully prepared to fight when the person stepped out of the shadows and saw Bucky.

The fighting stopped and they all acknowledged each other with a nod. Turns out Bucky hadn't been the only one that was experimented on by HYDRA and it seemed that his friend was able to escape a lot sooner.

"It's good to see you again, James", the woman said as she started packing her things, knowing she couldn't stay there.

"Likewise" He answered as they watched each other.

"I heard what happened on the news", she continued "but we both know those bastards won't be gone for long."

"That's why we came actually " Natasha said and watched the other supersoldier carefully, " we were hoping you would help us defeat them."

"It would be a pleasure." She said as she hoisted her bag over her shoulder.

It turned out their new team mate was a lot more talkative once they were in their safehouse. That's how Natasha spent countless hours talking to her about the struggles of being forced into a life you didn't want and how life in Russia affected both of them.

They started to form an unique bond and soon no one dared to cross them out of fear what the other might do.

There had been an ambush in the mountains, HYDRA attacking a convoy of important researchers and scientists. So they went there to help them. It wasn't something they hadn't done a million times but somehow everything went wrong.

It turned out there were never any scientists to rescue to begin with and this was just another of HYDRAS schemes to finally get rid of them.

Steve and Bucky were having trouble handling the steadily growing numbers of tanks and you and Nat were getting low on ammunition to give them cover.

You knew you could take them but you didn't want to leave Nat behind. The only person who didn't judge you because of your past. Even Bucky sometimes had to avert his eyes when he looked at you, remembering a time both of you wanted to forget.

You heard Nat swear and turned around to see more tanks coming your way. That was when you made your decision. You jumped off the cliff you had taken cover on and threw the first agent you saw into a tank. It left a big dent and the tank came to a stop. Continuing to bash HYDRA agents and destroying tanks you didn't realised all eyes were now focused on you, not seeing the quinjet coming your way.

There was a shout of your name and then there was just pain, pain and the unmistakable sound of crying and shouting. The last thing you saw was a whir of red and black, then everything went dark.

You woke up to the smell of hand sanitizer and the mumbling of voices. Your stomach burned and it hurt even just moving your arm.

There was a gasp and soon you heard a familiar voice call out your name. Looking to your right you saw Natasha sitting on a chair right besides you, Bucky and Steve leaning against the wall. With a nod to the redhead and a quick "we're glad you're okay" they left the room, leaving you two to your own devices.

"You know, when I saw you on the ground, not moving, I thought I had lost you for a second."

You smiled at her but it was more of a grimace than anything else.

"Aww you do got a heart, Natty"

"Shut up", she said but there was no malice behind the statement, " we were all worried sick."

"I know ", you said as you grabbed her hand, "but I'm back now."

You spent the rest of the evening talking, catching up and joking about all your near death experiences. You two connected on a level others didn't understand but you didn't care. Where she was the moon you were the sun, where she was the cooling waters you were the raging flames. You were each others missing halves and you both knew it.

It had been long past midnight and Nat was still by your side, now sitting on the edge of the hospital bed.

"I think you should get going ", you stated with a yawn, "it's late."

Nat just looked at you but didn't make a move to get up. You sighed and leaned forward, pressing a short kiss to her lips.

"See it as a motivation to come back tomorrow. "

The redhead recovered quickly from the shock and got up, pressing another fierce kiss to your lips.

"See you tomorrow, precious. "She said over her shoulder as she stepped out the door.

Yes see you tomorrow, you thought, a giddy feeling surging through your body. This woman was something else.

#mcu #marvel #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov x reader

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bi-writes · 4 years

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mine—mob!tom

a notorious extra

She is the sun, moon, and stars, and she is all for me.

this fic can be read stand-alone from the series

type: one-shot, alternate universe detail: mob!tom x fem!reader word count: 9.1k warnings: mature language and themes, nsfw content 18+ (unprotected sex, breeding kink, dom!tom, oral—fem!receiving) series masterlist

this part is dedicated to @duskholland—thank you for always supporting this series and being my cheerleader

Everything was blue. The moonlight was soft, and the drapes were open, and it made the room so blue. Perhaps it would calm him when he found out. Maybe, just maybe, he could be comforted by the light when he discovered the side of your bed cold and empty, left behind.

Maybe it would help him to forgive you.

You watched his sleeping figure as you zipped up your jacket. He had been so tired lately, those eyes you loved so much always drawn downwards. He carried deep, dark circles under them, a permanent frown on his face, a bitterness to him that left the space between you cold and distant and tense. You tried to soothe him with kisses, with love, with something gentle, but Tom turned away from you always. Not even switching your normal attire for something more revealing had done much to calm his mind. He was somewhere else entirely, his eyes always closed. He always said it helped him think, but you thought it better allowed his already-formed opinions devour him.

Finally, tonight, you had gotten him to sleep. You wouldn’t let him into the bedroom unless his hands were empty, free of his laptop or documents or papers, and Tom had a rule against sleeping without you.

The rule was that he never did.

He had tried hard to force himself into the bedroom, but one look at your face had him frozen. In any challenge, Tom was no match for you. Your word was final, always, and while Tom always had a way of standing up to you, it never mattered.

“I know what I’m doing, y/n.”

“Men always say that, and then they fuck it up.”

“I’m not going to fuck it up!”

“Don’t yell at me. You’re not a child. Give me a reason why, and look at me like you respect me, in the fucking eyes, Tom. Tell me.”

Silence always followed arguments that went that sort of way. Tom was always so angry, hands so tense he thought of grabbing you and shaking you, but then he would realize that was exactly what you wanted to hear. Nothing, because Tom was always too angry to think properly. Men that were angry never thought, they only acted, and then Tom would be angry because as always, you were right.

There were no secrets between you. Tom voiced every thought in his head, even if he thought it stupid, because you were listening, and sometimes you were the only voice that ever made sense and the only one that would listen. His men were obedient, willing, but all they did was try and please him with new ideas, and sometimes Tom just needed to say what was on his mind. His favorite way to think was to sit on your shared bed, with your head in his lap as he played with your hair, his voice low as he spoke gently, sometimes into your ear. It soothed him to have you near, to know you were giving him your undivided attention, and it was where most of his decisions suddenly became clear and sound. His wife was listening, and if she was still listening, it meant she thought he was right, and if she thought it was right, then it just was.

Tonight had been different. There had been no arguments, no talking. You finally let him in when he was without anything, and as soon as he came in, you turned out all the lights and got into bed. Tom had taken the silent cue, undressing and getting into a warm shower, and when he came back to bed, you were waiting for him, one hand drawn out for him to take. He had taken it; tightly, he wound himself into your arms, and he realized he didn’t need to work. His head hurt, so much, and finally there was nothing but silence around him and the touch of you. Fingers threading through his curls, soft skin against his own, warm body near his. He had fallen asleep before he even had the chance to say anything more.

You waited until his body had gone completely limp beside you before you had gotten up. There were no secrets between you; not until now, at least.

You respected Tom’s privacy because you loved him; it was also because you and Tom had vowed to never have secrets, lies, stories get between the two of you. You were better than that, meant for more than that, but you had noticed things had been off for some time now. You weren’t worried about other women no matter how many times his men talked around you.

You were certain other women did not excite Tom. Sometimes you wondered if his men thought they were clever because of it, maybe they even thought they were funny; poking at relationship insecurities must have been a game for them. You had let the thought entertain you once or twice, but Tom’s love never faltered, not even once. The distance between you was not one of love.

It was words.

You had noticed weeks before the way he sat. Tense, unrelaxed shoulders, the hard set of his jaw, that thing he would do with his fingers when he was stressed. Flexing them and unflexing them, and he would scratch at the tattoo of your initials on his finger absentmindedly. He ate in his office, and when you would fall asleep by yourself, sometimes you’d notice him wearing the same outfit as the day before in bed. There were things on his mind, and when Tom Holland was sure of himself, he was not a tense, stressed, bottled up man in sleek suits. He was confident, open, and he was bold enough to bend you right over his desk and take you in any room of his house. But even those moments didn’t feel right; staring into his eyes had been scarce. Tom was always good to you, always sweet, but no longer did his love feel direct. It felt like something to find release, to find relief in the tightness of his being, and while you liked to be that outlet for him at times, it didn’t seem to relieve any part of him anymore.

There was something on his mind; and he was not telling you what that something was.

You found yourself in his office. Your heels clicked against the wood as you stepped inside, and you made sure to lock the door behind you as you carried yourself through the room. On the chair in front of his desk was where he had thrown all of the things he had planned to carry to bed. Laptop, papers, a few pens he had left uncapped. You picked up the pile, moving his laptop to the side as you flipped open the first few manila folders.

Sheets, a money trail you had seen many times before on paper, but you didn’t recognize the accounts on it. They were not Tom’s accounts, no, they belonged to someone else. You took a seat in Tom’s chair, grabbing one of the uncapped pens and dragging the ballpoint tip against the paper as you went over the numbers. The money moved around like clockwork. Tom had written notes in the corners in his scrawling handwriting.

Offshore to shell, shell to offshore.

Back and forth, where is it coming from?

No English companies, can’t trace the transaction.

You eyed Tom’s laptop, picking it up and opening it up in front of you. You typed his password in, watching it unlock, and you made sure the searches were untraceable before following the breadcrumbs Tom had left behind. You had a sour taste in your mouth.

If he had asked for my help, I could have found the fucking answers myself.

Tom was good at getting answers, but he always had trouble connecting the dots. Men always had the motivation to gather the puzzle pieces, but it was women who always figured out where each piece lied.

Tom was always too busy in his mind to ever do it on his own.

It didn’t take you long to produce a name. Money was easy to move around, but it was difficult to hide, especially when it amounted to hundreds of millions of pounds. With everything digital, the footprints were hard to find, but they were always, always there.

You shut Tom’s laptop, reaching down into his desk. He kept a drawer with a false bottom on the left side; it was where he kept the cigarettes you never let him have. When you opened the drawer and popped the bottom, you did find the cigarettes. But it was something else that made your heart drop.

There were crumpled parchment paper notes, smashed and ripped, at the bottom. You slowly took them out, smoothing the paper out on the desk. You swallowed hard as your eyes scanned over the small papers. They had been ripped out of a notebook, the paper thick and brown and rough, and there on the paper was you.

You had a smile on your face, and you were wearing your favorite leather jacket. You were sketched onto the paper, deep smudges of lead filling in the shadows of your face. Near the bottom was an address. You had been to that address wearing that smile.

The rest of the notes were similar. Sketches of you, in different outfits, with different smiles, but all of you in that smudged, dark pencil shading. Each picture had a caption, locations of where you had been when they had been sketched, and you had tears in your eyes when you realized why Tom had been so upset, distant, away from you.

“I love you.”

“I know that, Tom.”

“No—”

“Tom, hey! I’m trying to do some work here, please, I don’t have time to—Oh!”

“Just…let me look at you, darling. Please.”

“What’s gotten into you, Tom?”

“Nothing. I just love you. Say it back.”

“Tom…”

“Say it back, y/n. Please.”

“I love you, Tom. You know that. You know I love you.”

You smoothed out the last note, and you felt nothing but anger when you read what was scribbled onto it.

She’s beautiful. Give it back, and maybe, just maybe, we can talk.

You shoved all the notes back into the drawer, haphazardly closing it. You slammed it closed rather, grabbing Tom’s gun off the table and stuffing into the back of your jeans. You rummaged through his drawers looking for anything else, but you came up empty.

Tom wasn’t going to have enough time to stop you. He was fast asleep in your bedroom, and he would stay there. His men would tell Tom as soon as they noticed you leave, but you knew that, and that was why you left from the second story window of his office, dropping down a few ledges until you made your way to the garage. You were quick to pick a vehicle, getting into the drivers’ side. Tom never trusted you with his cars. You had grown up driving on the other side of the road, and he would joke that you would ruin his precious collection.

Really, you knew that didn’t matter to him. You could burn Tom’s millions, and he would still look at you with that same, doe-eyed lovesick expression. Really, you thought he was afraid of where you might go if you were the one driving. You always thought about taking him with you, driving off into nowhere. Tom would object, but if you left, you had a feeling he would follow.

You drove for what felt like hours. You always taught Tom not to act rashly, but you had acted rashly just now. But even with the time between you, even having silence around you to let yourself breathe and think, you were still angry, seething with it, hot inside all over.

You knew why. People threatened you all the time. You were a princess, a queen, an heiress that had inherited an underground, criminal fortune, and everyone wanted your head just to have a taste of the wealth at your fingertips. You weren’t afraid of other people, you weren’t scared of what they could do to you.

But not my Tommy. Never my Tommy.

All of the lights were on in the house when you stepped through the front door. You had put your hair up and away from your face when you left, but now it was down, forced out of its style. Your jacket was in your hand, and there was blood on your clothes. Tom’s gun was still tucked into the back of your jeans, and as you made your way into the living room, you tried to hide your hands, but it was no use. They were bleeding at the knuckles, bruised and split. You held your head up high as your heels sounded, and as you came further into the living room, Tom was there, sitting on the couch, a glass of dark liquor in front of him and a cigarette hanging off his lips.

“What did I say about that?” You tried to scold him, but it came out soft and low. When Tom finally turned to look at you, his face twitched with a touch of something sinister. He eyed the cut above your brow, the split lip, the dried blood under your nose. Other than your small injuries, you were relatively untouched, but it made him feel no better.

“Sit down,” Tom said firmly.

“Tom—”

“Don’t say another bloody word,” Tom snapped. “Sit down.”

You shook your head, “I’m not. You’re going to yell at me. You’re going to tell me that I’m stupid, that I’m careless, that I’m—”

“Oh, really?” Tom stood up, coming towards you, “and why do you think that is, y/n? Who else is going to tell you how things are? Who the fuck else is going to tell you how bloody stupid you are?! How reckless you are?! How you must have your head so far up your own arse that you didn’t even bother to ask for any backup?!”

You had not seen this Tom Holland in a long while. In fact, you had not seen this Tom Holland since you had met him. The one with unhinged and limitless anger, the one that broke glass and severed heads with nothing but his glare. The Tom Holland others were afraid of, and the Tom Holland you had tamed.

I suppose tamed until now.

“I know what I did!” You shot back. “I know what I fucking did, I don’t need you to tell me how it is, I already know how it is!”

“Clearly you—fucking don’t!” He grabbed your chin, forcing you closer to him, and you glared up at him as he held you roughly, making you look right into his eyes.

“If you’re looking for an apology, you won’t be getting it,” you spit at him, your voice a growl. “I’m not sorry. I don’t regret anything. If I had the chance, I would do it all…over…again.”

Tom let out a bitter laugh, his hand falling until he had you by the throat. You were staring each other down, both eyes dark and blown wide with that familiar rage. Tom thought that you had never been more of a Holland than this moment. Reckless, clouded with fury, willing and guilty of doing the most impulsive, dangerous things. You had never been more of a reflection of him than you were now. You were terrifyingly beautiful.

He was shaking. You were dizzy from being hit and thrown and grabbed, but you never faltered in your ability to get things done. No matter how many men he sent your way, they laid in a trail behind you, groaning, unconscious, laying in heaps of their own blood as they failed to get back up again. You had a crazed, starlight reflection in those brilliant eyes of yours, and you held Tom’s gun up in front of you, finger on the trigger.

“You,” you breathed, swallowing the blood in your mouth. You wiped the blood that was coming down your nose on the sleeve of your leather jacket, shaking your head. “Do you fucking recognize me?”

“Yes—” He held his hands up, cowering. “Yes, fuck…yes…”

“You’ve been watching me. Like a coward, in the shadows,” you laughed bitterly, stepping over one of his men that was on the floor in front of you. “You don’t look so happy to see me, though.”

“You’ve got a bloody gun in my face.”

“You’re lucky that’s all I’ve got,” you growled, glaring at him. “You’ve been threatening Tom. My Tom. Tell me why.”

“This is between us,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re just…collateral damage.”

“Well, collateral damage came back and bit you in the ass, so start talking, or I’ll make sure you never forget today,” you lowered the gun, pointing it at his knee. “Start fucking talking.”

He glanced between you and the gun, and when he made a move, you pulled the trigger, this time aimed at his thigh. You were careful with where you shot him, nothing but flesh and ensuring the bullet went through and through, and then you moved the gun back to his kneecap.

“I won’t ask again,” you said softly, kneeling down to his level as he cried out in pain in his chair, holding onto his leg. His face was reddening, his whole body shivering, and you tilted your head to the side. “Tell me why you’re after Tom.”

“He—gah!” He let out a few coughs, holding his hands over the wound to stop the bleeding. “He can’t just come back and take back this bloody city. He left to play kingpin in New York, and there’s no more room in London for—God!” He shook his head, “there’s no more room for Hollands here. You can’t leave for years and expect everything to be handed back to you. Even you understand that, don’t you?”

Your nose twitched a bit. You did understand; but it didn’t matter. He was your Tommy, and you couldn’t just let people threaten him. They could threaten you all they wanted, but not him. You swiped a pen off the table, clicking it open before shoving it into the bullet wound, grabbing him by the neck and forcing him facedown into the desk. His screams did not deter you; they only encouraged you.

“If you come after us ever again, I’ll find you all over again,” you whispered in his ear. “And I’ll make sure London forgets your name ever fucking existed. Do you understand me?”

“Yes—yes! Yes…yes, God, please…please…yes…”

“You’ll bend the knee,” you murmured, forcing him to look at you. “You’ll look Tom Holland in the eyes, apologize, and be grateful that he’s allowed you to keep your head for this long after all of the trouble you caused. You’ll bend the knee to him, you’ll pay your dues, and you’ll warn anyone else in London that if they don’t do the same, I’ll pay them a visit, too. But I will not be giving out warnings anymore.”

He had tears in his eyes. He was afraid of you. You pulled his head back and slammed it against the desk, watching his eyes flutter shut as you knocked him unconscious. You fished into his suit jacket, finding his cell phone, and you dialed the first number you saw, tossing it onto the desk with a thud. You wanted him to be alive. How else would he tell others what happened today?

You glanced between Tom’s eyes and his lips, your body relaxing a bit as you stared at him. You loved him with every fiber of your being. You loved him endlessly, desperately, completely, and you would do it all over again just to protect him. You were not sorry about what you had done, not even a little bit. They had threatened your Tommy, made him feel small and powerless and at war, and you remember all too well what that felt like.

“I’m not sorry,” you said again, softer this time. “They wanted to hurt you, Tommy. Yell at me all you want. It won’t change my mind. They deserved it, and I hope they’re afraid of me now. I hope they think twice before threatening you, I hope that they are scared of what we’ll do to them if they don’t fall in line.” Your eyes watered a bit, and you sucked in a shaky breath. “You are mine, and I will do it again and again until people stop trying to touch what’s mine.”

Tom was breathless. That anger inside of him had faded, nothing but a deep lull in his chest as he realized how undeniably his you were. You were fearless when it came to things that you loved, and he was nothing but breathless listening to you speak. You lit a warm fire in his heart, and suddenly he understood you completely. Tom had been prepared to do just the same as soon as he discovered who was threatening you; he had been prepared to scream, to fight, to hurt anyone that tried to come close to you. Of course you had gotten to them first. You were brilliant in more ways than one, and Tom was foolish to think he could finish jobs without your help. He simply couldn’t.

Tom was silent as he pushed you backwards, his hand squeezing the expanse of your throat as he shoved you back into the wall, his eyes on your lips as he stared down at you. His eyes traveled back up your face, meeting your own, and you reached over, grabbing both sides of his face firmly and pulling him close, close enough that his forehead rested against yours.

“The things I would do for you, Tom…” You whispered against his lips. “I’m afraid of it.” Your voice faltered for a moment, and his breath was so warm against your lips, his chest rising and falling. “I’m afraid of how far I’ll go. B-Because the truth is Tom…” He loosened his grip on your throat, his hand sliding to the back of your neck. “I’ll let the whole…I-I would let the whole fucking world burn if it meant you would be alright.”

“You’re so selfish,” Tom muttered, shaking his head, but his entire body was warm. He was grounded here, right in front of you, and the only thing he could truly focus on was the way you were licking those luscious lips of yours and how gorgeous you looked as you let your jacket drop onto the floor. He pushed the straps of your camisole down your shoulder, running a thumb along the bare skin there, and he grunted a bit as he pushed you back into the wall again. “You’re so fucking selfish, y/n.”

“Maybe,” you shrugged, your eyes calm. It didn’t faze you, it didn’t bother you, not even a little bit. “But you’re alive. I don’t much care for anything else.”

Something about the tone of your voice was so ominous. Tom could see in your eyes that you meant every word, and the thought that you would let everything fall to chaos for him put you in a dark light. You were dangerous, in love, but Tom was not easily deterred.

No, he was not deterred. In fact, there was something stirring inside of him at the thought of you burning the world for him.

“You don’t mean that, love,” Tom licked his lips, his thumb finding your bottom lip. He touched where your lip had split, and you took his thumb into your mouth, sucking on it for a moment. The intense stare between you remained, and neither of you dared to look away from one another. “You and I both know that you care about other people. Not just me.”

You blinked, “I meant what I said,” you said softly. Your words echoed in his ear.

She is afraid of how far she will go for me.

You shoved his chest harshly suddenly, backing him up until his knees hit the couch, and he was forced to sit. You fell into his lap, gripping his chin tight, and you made him look at you as you brought the camisole up and over your head until you were sitting in your jeans and nothing else in front of him. Tom kept his eyes level with your own, and you smirked down at him, as if daring him to look at you.

You took his hands, sliding up the expanse of your thighs until they rested over your hips. His fingers played with the belt loops of your jeans before he was unbuttoning them, shimmying them down your legs until you were in nothing but lace underwear. You tossed the gun onto the floor, and before Tom could take control, you used your weight to push him onto his back, shoving him into the pillows as you sat up on top of him.

You leaned down, gripping the collar of his dress shirt tightly, and Tom swallowed hard as you laid a soft, supple kiss under his ear.

“You’re mine,” you whispered in his ear. “I made men bleed for you, Tommy. I made them scream…and cry…and beg. I made them promise they would bow to you. I made men cower in your name, and I made them pray on the Good Lord that you would deliver them mercy.” You giggled darkly, making him shiver. He was drunk on the intoxication of you, and every word was bliss. “No one touches my Tommy,” you cooed, slipping your hands into the waistband of his trousers, humming as you wrapped your hand around his throbbing length. “No one but me.”

“Fuck—” He choked out, leaning his head back. He was breathing hard now, panting. Your words had him absolutely breathless. There was not a woman in the world that could ever match your fire. “You still can’t do this shit, y/n. You still can’t do things without telling me, you still can’t—”

“Shut up,” you breathed against his lips. “I did what I had to.” You used both hands and unzipped his pants, shoving them down his legs, and Tom flipped you both over, towering over you, forcing you back into the cushions. You grunted a bit, but he held you down.

“We’re supposed to be in this together,” he growled, and you pushed on his chest, forcing him backwards, and you both stared at each other menacingly.

“Exactly,” you breathed. “But clearly you don’t trust me. We aren’t supposed to have any secrets, Tom. And then I find out you’re doing this?” You reached down and started to gather your clothes harshly, “maybe if you had just told me what was going on, I could’ve fucking helped you. But as usual, you underestimate me.”

“I’m not underestimating you,” Tom argued, picking up his shirt. He followed you upstairs, into the bedroom, where he slammed the door shut harshly. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“God, dammit, Tom, when are you going to understand that I don’t need you to protect me?!” You snapped, turning and throwing your jacket at him. “When are you going to see that I am not as delicate and breakable as you think I am?! How long have I been doing this on my own, Tom? How long? Why can’t you just…trust me?”

“I do, I do!”

You sat on the bed, tossing your clothes onto the floor. Tom shook his dress shirt out before wrapping it around your bare torso, kneeling in front of you so he could meet your eyes.

“I do trust you, love,” he promised, gentler this time. “I’m sorry if it doesn’t appear like I do, but I do. I do trust you. But the truth is, I’m…I’m ashamed.”

“Ashamed?”

“I thought we’d run the bloody world here,” he murmured, finding your hands, squeezing them tight. “But every fucking day brings a new roadblock. Some arse running the east end, another deal gone to pot…I feel so out of control here, and that isn’t what I wanted for us. I was so…Hell, I was excited to bring you here, to show you what I’ve built, but I’ve got nothing, darling. Nothing. Nothing but threats, empty promises, and problem after problem that somehow you keep cleaning up, and I…”

You put a hand on his cheek, smiling a bit. You leaned down and kissed his forehead, shaking your head.

“Tom…you’re ridiculous,” you laughed. “If everything was perfect, I would be absolutely bored.”

He sighed, a bit annoyed, and your hands found his shoulders, rubbing them soothingly.

“Tom, you should know me by now,” you brought your left hand back, wiggling your fingers where your sparkling wedding rings sat. Tom leaned down to kiss your knuckles there gently. “I adore chaos. It makes things exciting, don’t you think? What’s more exciting then coming back and showing them that London belongs to the Hollands, hmm?”

Tom shook his head, “y/n…”

“Tom, you know better than I that this business doesn’t run like a Fortune 500,” you rolled your eyes. “It keeps us on our toes. But that’s why we do this. Because fuck, Tom, nothing makes me happier than seeing men bow to me…to you,” you teased, bringing his head up by his chin. “They think they run the world here. Don’t you think it’s a little fun making them learn their place?”

Tom pursed his lips, and you leaned down to kiss them, parting them with your tongue. You kissed tenderly, your fingers going into his curls, and you pulled away slowly, humming against his cheek.

“Promise me, Tommy,” you whispered. “Promise me no more secrets.”

Tom rubbed along your bare thighs, nodding in response, leaning his head up as he chased your lips. He kissed you warmly, slowly, his hands sliding up your thighs as he took your hips into his hands and pulled you close.

“It’s fun,” you purred, sliding his shirt off your shoulders, tossing it aside. “Admit it, Tom. It’s fun making them feel afraid…small…” You grabbed onto the back of his neck and forced him to crawl on top of you as you backed up on the bed. “…unimportant. Admit it. Admit that it’s fun,” you giggled between kisses, using your other hand to shove his trousers off of him completely. You gasped a bit as he took a hold of your throat, pulling you up to sit against the headboard. He finally smiled, darkly, sucking on your bottom lip as you felt your whole body grow in warmth.

“Hmm…” He chuckled. “Aye, ‘s fun. But not nearly as fun as commanding you, sweetheart.”

“You can’t command me,” you grinned, but then he squeezed your throat tighter, and you drew your thighs together. Before you could close them all the way, Tom forced his knee between your legs, shaking his head.

“Nuh uh,” he tsked, meeting your eyes. “Spread them, y/n. I won’t ask again.”

You giggled, kissing him lightly, “and what if I don’t?”

“Oi, love,” he pressed his thumb against the base of your throat, his rough fingers drawing gasps of breath out of you. “Don’t test me, yeah? Do as I say. Spread your legs.”

“Say please.”

Tom’s eyes darkened, “I won’t ask again.”

“Try me—ah!”

Tom grabbed onto your hips and yanked you back down onto your back. He caught your hands, pinning them above you, against the pillows, and you gasped into his mouth as he kissed you hotly. You wound your leg around his waist, flipping the both of you over, and you intertwined your fingers, laughing against his lips at his bewildered expression.

“Are you trying to be in control, Tommy?” You cooed, sitting up on his hips. “Cute. You’re so cute when you think you can overpower me, you know that?”

Tom scrunched his nose a bit, his chest hot, and he brought his hand down and grabbed a handful of your ass, bringing you down on top of him to kiss again, his other hand wrapping into your hair. You let out a soft whine into his mouth as his fingers slowly made their way between your thighs, teasing you lovingly.

“You know I only allow you have the upper hand, yeah?” He hummed between kisses, and you smiled brightly. You knew he did. You and Tom had countless nights together since you had been married. Nearly all of them involved you underneath him, in whatever position he liked, letting him coax you into the most blissful orgasms of your entire life. There was just something about letting Tom Holland be in his element in the bedroom that made you absolutely weak in the knees, and you would never get over the way he could make you feel, which was ethereal and otherworldly.

There was also just something about allowing yourself to not think. You thought always. Your head was always running a million miles a minute, but here in your bedroom, you could be alone with just him. You could let Tom take control, and he would, because you needed him to. His voice would whisper praise in your ear, and you could just relax, because you trusted him like this, naked, bare, under him. You trusted him with every part of you, even the intimate parts, and he never faltered, not even once.

You came apart every single time.

“Open,” Tom muttered, and you relaxed in his arms. Despite being on top of him, Tom was in charge, and he had given you a command, and you obliged without question, your eyelids fluttering as you parted your lips for him. Tom slid his hand up your body, fitting two fingers into your mouth, and you hummed as you tasted yourself on his fingertips. Your eyes closed as you sucked on his fingers, and Tom let out a deep sigh as he watched you.

“My pretty, pretty girl,” he murmured, and you opened your eyes at that, letting his fingers go gently, kissing them softly. “You’re just bloody gorgeous, aren’t you?”

Your eyes sparkled at that, hearing his soft voice love you like it always did, and Tom adored the way your body sunk down into his. Your tense upper body relaxed, and the way the palm of his hand was against your cheek had you nuzzling into him, closing your eyes again as you breathed deep breaths.

“You are,” Tom sighed, licking his lips. “You’re beautiful, y/n. You’re my beautiful, precious angel—” You winced a bit as his fingers touched the gash on your forehead, brushed against the yellowing bruise around your eye, “and if you die, I die.”

You opened your eyes, meeting his dark gaze, and you swallowed a bit as you looked at him. The lust died for a moment, replaced with something deeper, and you could see how genuine he was being.

If you die, I die.

You nodded once, just barely, and Tom brought you close to kiss you, soft this time, just barely touching his lips to yours.

“If you die, I die,” you echoed, and Tom nodded, hand around the back of your neck as he rolled over, getting between your legs, practically ripping your underwear off your legs.

“Fuck, I can’t take this,” he said, mostly to himself. “Make room for me, love, I’m starved, yeah?”

Your eyes rolled back in your head. He sounded so nonchalant, as if eating you out was a normality. You watched as he dipped his head to meet the skin of your neck, kisses you there, letting his mouth carry him further down, until he was sucking a taut nipple into his mouth and pushing your legs open as far as they could go. The sounds leaving your mouth only made him more eager, and he didn’t stop smirking as he tugged your panties down your legs roughly, tossing them behind himself. You think your heard them rip, tear maybe, but you couldn’t be bothered. Your husband was hooking your legs over his broad shoulders, and all you could think about was having Tom Holland’s lips buried between your legs as far as they could go.

And he did just that.

Tom liked to make you scream. He knew just how, he had learned your body so well. He knew what every twitch and movement meant, what every gasp and moan to leave your mouth signaled. He had learned what could make you tip over the edge in seconds, and he had learned how to get you right to the edge and bring you back down again. Tom prided himself in knowing your most intimate parts, memorizing your quirks, and eating his wife out was no different. He knew exactly what you wanted.

Your back arched as he kissed sloppily around your throbbing clit. He smiled to himself as he slid a hand down your quivering thigh, teasing your folds as he softly lapped at your clit. Your eyes rolled back in your head as Tom made it his mission to draw shapes against your bud. He loved spelling out his name with his tongue so slowly, and he always waited to see your reaction when the tip of his wet muscle would draw that aching, wonderful O, and he groaned when he noticed how you whined at that, bringing your hands up to fondle your breasts as he slid two slender fingers inside of you.

Tom closed his eyes for a moment as he heard you cry out with delight, “there’s my girl,” he murmured. “Sound so good, love…let me hear you, you know how much I fancy your voice, yeah?”

You nodded desperately, your body hot all over as Tom stretched you out wonderfully with his fingers, slowly moving them so he could find that special spot inside of you and rub it gently with the tips of his fingers, curling them every once in a while to draw out a loud moan from your sweet lips. Tom suddenly couldn’t believe you were his; completely, utterly, eternally his.

“Fuck, my wife is so beautiful,” he breathed, kissing the inside of your thigh as he worked his fingers. “Aren’t you, dove? Aren’t you beautiful? ‘specially when you come…you’re so bloody gorgeous when you wet my fingers, baby.”

“God, Tom!” You whimpered, and he laughed heartily, a smirk on his lips as he kissed along your thigh again.

“You’re mine forever,” he mumbled, grunting as he picked up the pace of his fingers. “No one else is going to fuck this pretty pussy except for me, darling. No other bloke on this fucking earth is ever going to know how perfect your cunt is. It’s mine,” he leaned down and wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking warmly.

“Tom—”

“And you’re going to give me heirs,” Tom growled. “Aren’t you, y/n? You’re going to give me beautiful, perfect heirs…”

You choked on the moan coming out. You saw stars, your vision turning white as you came over his fingers, his lips still on you as he kissed your thighs lovingly, guiding you through your orgasm.

“That’s it, princess.”

“Fuck, you’re soaking my fingers…”

“So sweet…you taste divine…”

You sat up after a few minutes, getting up onto your elbows. You looked down at him, trying to ignore how attractive it was to watch Tom suck on his fingers slowly, licking them clean. You swallowed hard.

“Tom—”

“Mmm,” he hummed, interrupting you. “You liked that, huh, love?”

You pursed your lips, staying quiet as Tom raised himself over you, caging you between his arms. He stared down at you with dark eyes, his curls falling over his forehead, his lips wet and his cheeks flushed.

He leaned down, sucking on the skin beneath your ear, and you let out a pathetic whine as he rolled a nipple between his fingers, his wet fingers making the sensation all the more enticing.

“You like the thought…don’t you, y/n?” He whispered huskily. “You like the thought of it…” You swallowed hard as his hand traveled lowered, smoothing over your stomach, “the thought of having my baby,” you closed your eyes as he rubbed his thumb along your ribs, trailing it around your hips and back up your stomach, “you want it…don’t you?”

“D-Don’t be ridiculous, Tom, we…” You couldn’t finish. You didn’t want to sound desperate or pathetic, more than you already did, but he was right, and it was true. You were at Tom’s mercy, and the thought of being intimate with purpose had you wet all over again for him. You looked back up at him, back into his eyes, and finally you nodded silently, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck and bringing him close to kiss you. “Fuck, Tommy…you make me feel so many things…sometimes I don’t even understand them.”

Tom chuckled warmly, hooking a thumb into your mouth, smirking.

“’s alright, love. You can admit it,” he winked. “You can admit you want my baby. You can admit that you want me to bury my cock inside of you, and give you everything I’ve got…” He tilted his head to the side, watching intently as you sighed and sucked on his thumb. “You can admit that you want me to fuck you senseless…and that you want to give me the heirs that I so deserve.”

Normally, a comment like that would’ve had you smacking Tom across the face. But here, underneath him, lustful eyes staring down into yours, you were submitting to him completely. The thought made you shiver, and his words were making you hot with desire. You did want it. You hated to admit it to yourself, but you did want it, and you wanted it so badly, you thought maybe, just maybe, you would even beg him for it.

For a moment, you paused. Your hand came up and caressed his cheek, and he laid his forehead against yours, so close to you. Your breath mingled, and you bit your lip hard, studying him. Tom was your family. Tom was your husband. You didn’t need any more convincing about it all; looking up at him, seeing the way he softened to your touch, put you completely at ease. You trusted Tom with your life, and this was no different.

I fall in love with him more and more every second. How is that even possible?

You shared hot, passionate kisses for a long while. Tom’s hands were squeezing your thigh and your hip, and yours were secured around his shoulders, nails digging into the skin of his back as you encouraged him to grind against your, wet folds welcoming his cock as his tip bumped against your clit every so often, making you whine into the kisses and pull on his sweaty curls. Tom was a mess above you, teasing himself now as he gripped your hips and let you coat his length with your arousal. You found yourself gasping desperately, clawing at his back, and at the feeling, Tom knew you needed him just as much as he needed you.

You kept your eyes on his as he gripped your thighs firmly, wrapping them around his waist. His lips turned up into a dark smirk, and you ran your fingers down his face as he finally pushed into you, fitting himself snugly inside of you until his hips touched yours. Your mouth fell open as he did, and you let out a sigh as he stopped, his eyes roaming over your face to gauge your reaction. You were completely relaxed in his arms, clenching tight around him, and Tom took that as his cue that you were enjoying every second of this.

“No matter how many times I fuck you,” he pressed a kiss to your neck, “you’re still so bloody tight, huh, love?”

You let out a breathy giggle, making him smile, and you felt intoxicated by his presence. Tom was so handsome, so fit, so incredibly perfect, and your head was spinning with how wonderful he felt. He wasn’t even moving yet, and you thought if he stayed still for much longer, you might just come from how sensitive you were. But he could feel that, surely, because he finally hiked your thighs up a bit more and started to move, his hips rolling against yours so slowly.

“That’s it,” he murmured, watching your head fall back, your entire body shivering with pleasure. “That’s it, m’love…fuck…you take me so well, sweetheart…God, I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“Tom,” you let out, grabbing onto his biceps. You squeezed the tense muscle under your palms, and you kissed again, shaking your head. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

You touched his face again, and Tom thought he might lose his mind. He could feel the cool metal of your wedding ring, a stinging, beautiful reminder that you were undeniably his, and he found himself picking up the pace, cradling your head in his arms.

“Give it to me, Tommy,” you cooed in his ear.

“Yeah?” He asked, breathless, “is that what you want, kitten? You want me to give you everything I’ve bloody got, is that it?”

Your eyes fluttered as he spoke in your ear, a husky, breathy tone accentuated by his accent and punctuated by his rhythmic movements as he kept his hips steady against yours despite his chest going flush red. You nodded silently, not trusting yourself to speak, and he nibbled on the edge of your ear, humming warmly.

“You want to be full of me, darling,” he murmured. “You want to be stuffed full of me…dripping with me…you want me to fill your sweet, pretty cunt with whatever I’ve got so you can give me heirs, don’t you?”

You grabbed onto his cheeks, kissing him in response. Your throat was dry, and your body was on fire, and his words only made you spread your legs wider, and he cursed against your lips as you clenched around him at the thought.

“You do,” he chuckled darkly. “Say it, y/n.”

“Tommy—” You whined, but he grunted, slowing his hips, and you cried out in desperation, needing him to keep up his constant thrusts. “Tom!”

“Say it, love,” he ordered you, tangling a hand into your hair and tugging hard, exposing your neck for him as he sucked on the base of your throat. “Say you want me to cum. Say you want me to fill you to the fucking brim and stay there until I’m certain you’re spilling with whatever I fucking give you.”

You let out a desperate sob, clutching onto his back, digging into the tense muscles there.

“I-I want it,” you panted. “I want it so badly, Tommy, please.”

Tom had never heard you beg quite so nicely before. Tom had never heard you speak in this tone, never heard you submit so well for him. It was foreign to hear you plead, unfamiliar to see you so wrecked and submissive, but Tom thought it was the most beautiful thing he had ever witnessed. You were so combative, so competitive, so authoritative in the way you carried yourself. But for him, for Tom, you were here, underneath him, begging like a good girl in his ear, and Tom thought he couldn’t love you anymore than he did now.

“Want what?”

“Baby—”

“Say it, y/n,” he growled. “Say it, or I won’t give it to you. Tell me what you want from me. Be a good fucking girl, and say what you want.”

“I want you to come!” You cried out finally, arching your back into him. He smiled as you seemed to fall apart in his arms, clawing at him, trying to get as close as possible even though you were both pressed against each other firmly. “I-I want you to come, Tommy, please…I want you to come, and I-I want…”

“Want…?”

You kissed him softly, tenderly, and Tom stilled his hips for a moment, his hands on both of your cheeks as he kissed back just as feverishly, groaning when your ankles crossed behind his back as you pulled him as close as you could, feeling the tip of his cock rub deliciously against your sweet spot.

“Want heirs, Tommy,” you breathed against him. “I want them, and I want them to be ours.”

He grinned, his eyes darting between your lips and back up to your eyes. His own eyes were dark, so dark, but they were sparkling with something beautiful. He was asking if you meant it with a smile like that, and you nodded slowly, prompting him to grip your hips firmly and start moving again, harder this time, making your whole body shake.

“So warm,” Tom muttered. “Gonna take me so nicely, aren’t you, kitten?”

“Yes, Tom,” you answered breathlessly, nodding as you wound your arms around his neck. He was close, you could tell. His eyes were screwed shut, and he was concentrating on how you felt. His body was tense, and he seemed focused, and you brought your lips close to his ear. “Come for me, Tommy. Let me feel you, please…please…” You knew he liked it when you begged. You never begged, you never pleaded, and when you did, it was only for him.

“G-ahh, shit,” Tom leaned his head back, “bloody perfect, you are…look at the way you take me, love…fuck..”

Your eyes opened wide when he reached up for you, his hand wrapping around your neck, snuggly as if it was meant to be there. You closed them again as he pressed his forehead to yours, squeezing the flesh of your throat, drawing soft whimpers from you as he fucked you harder, deeper, his skin so hot as it touched yours. Tom stuttered above you, his arm giving out just a bit, and you had tears in your eyes as he finally, finally came, filling you just as he promised, his teeth digging into your jaw as he groaned against you. The rings adorning his fingers were searing against your skin, so cold and hard, but you didn’t want him to stop touching you, not ever, not like this.

Tom never stopped, even though his body was relaxed, exhausted. He kept his hips steady against yours until he heard that signature gurgled moan leave your mouth, until he could feel you clenching so tight around him that you almost made him hard all over again.

Your eyes closed slowly, and you sighed as you felt the weight of Tom’s body gently rest on you. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, his hand leaving your neck as he rubbed down your sides, over the outside of your thighs, hooking into the back of your knees and tightening your legs around his middle.

“’m so in love with you,” he said into your ear, and you ran your fingers through his damp curls, a lazy smile coming over your face. “Fuck, I’m so in love with you, y/n.”

You caressed the back of his neck, your eyes opening again. You stared up at the ceiling with a soft, content expression on your face, and you turned your head finally and planted soft kisses on Tom’s shoulder, your fingers scratching gently over his back, soothing him.

“You do things to me, Tom,” you said finally, laughing a bit to yourself. “You do things to me, and I can’t explain them.”

He chuckled, kissing the side of your neck, “you mean the way you completely fall apart for me? How all I have to do is get you into my bed, and suddenly you’re my quiet, beautiful, sweet good girl?”

You hit his back playfully, tossing your head back as you laughed warmly, hugging him close to you.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, shaking your head. “I…” You hid yourself in his chest, holding onto him tightly. “I can’t help it, Tom…”

“I know, love,” he lifted himself up, enough that he could look down at you. “And you’re perfect.”

You both broke out into soft smiles, just staring at each other, gentle eyes looking into gentle eyes. You had done terrible things. You had hurt people today, gone behind your husband’s back, you had done things that you wished you hadn’t, things you swore you would never do. But looking up at him, running your fingers over those handsome features, you didn’t feel guilty, not even a little bit, not even at all.

There was nothing you wouldn’t do for him, and it scared you to admit it. You had said it so nonchalantly, but in truth, you terrified yourself. There was not a line you would not cross, not a life you would not take, not a soul you would not hurt. Tom Holland had you wrapped around his finger so tightly, he could break you, and you would say thank you.

Your lips parted as he kissed you, mumbling soft praise into your mouth. He was saying that he loved you, that he appreciated you, that you were his wife, that you were perfect, but there was a ringing in your ears, fear in your heart that started to choke you from the inside out.

You thought perhaps you might die trying to save him. You thought it was poetic. You thought—

“y/n, are you hearing me?”

His voice came through, and you looked up at him, blinking to focus.

“Hmm? What did you say?”

“’m sorry,” Tom repeated, cupping both of your cheeks. “I said ‘m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For…all of it,” he brushed your hair out of your eyes. “We should’ve done it together. We should’ve…”

“Yes, we should’ve,” you hummed, rolling your eyes a bit. “But we didn’t.”

“No, we didn’t.”

“I’m sorry, too,” you whispered. “For being reckless. A bit stupid.”

Sorry for being reckless, but not for what I’ve done.

He smiled, and you smiled, and you thought you saw love in his eyes. Those dark eyes, usually clouded over because of how much was on his mind, were clear and glowing, staring down at you.

“I’ll admit…I am proud of you,” Tom said softly, shaking his head. “You’re living up to your name, love. You’re a Holland at heart, you know that, yeah?”

“Oh, God, you’re rubbing off on me,” you sighed, giggling. You felt a swell of pride in your chest at the thought of Tom being proud of you. You didn’t need validation, you didn’t need his approval, but the thought that he was proud of you made you feel relieved, serene, loved. You sounded so sweet to him, laughing like that, and he adored seeing you so relaxed. You were safe, in his arms, and there was no reason for him to be anything except utterly content.

“You are mine, y/n. All mine. I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

Reckless, stupid, beautiful, it didn’t matter. Tom wouldn’t change anything.

Not then, not now, and not ever.

#tom holland imagines #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic #tom holland smut #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland au #tom holland series #mob!tom #notorious #thnsfw

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free-pool-trash · 3 years

Text

folklore - isaac lahey {9/?}

Hey lovlies ✌🏻💕 sorry this part took so long something wasn’t sitting right with me so I rewrote it like 3 time 😫 but don’t worry I figured it out.

It’s all angst from here I’m afraid crew

👁💧👄💧👁

Pleasssssse let me know what you think, im hanging by a thread here 😭💕

Word count: 5.1K

Warning(s): fluff at the start :), a whole bunch of swearing, blood, mentions of death, let me know if I missed any! <3

Masterlist

taglist (open): @makeusfreefromthisfandom, @cece-lives-here , @chocolate-raspberries, @belsandthings, @dancing-tacos-23 , @truly-dionysus, @britty443, @tanyaherondale, @furiouspockettoad, @yunsh-17 , @random-thoughts-003, @gloomybrieyxb, @linkpk88 , @big-galaxy-chaos , @im-a-stranger-thing , @its-evita-here , @pad-foots , @sweetpeabellamyblakedracomalfoy , @bookswillfindyouaway , @what-the-hap-is-fuckening, @awkwardnesshabitat, @pieces-by-me , @wreny24, @marveloucnco , @babypink224221 , @bookish-bucky @alexa-rae-dreamz , @thebookisbtr , @nxstalgicnxbxdy , @cloudy-zoey , @booknymph02 , @tairisceana let me know if you’d like to be added <3 (i had to remove some because tumblr wont let me tag them 💔)

The next morning came by all too quickly, you’d barely gotten any sleep. Yourself and Isaac spent the whole night talking, just like you used to before the tone of your lives had changed drastically.

There was so much you needed to get off your chest, and of course Isaac had a lot to say too so that’s what the pair of you did- put everything out on the table.

You did a whole lot of talking, laughed a lot, cried a little and for the first time ever during one of your and Isaac’s late night chats there was an incredible amount of shared kisses. Those little perks of being a couple were something you could definitely get used to.

Your fingers drew circles on Isaac’s chest, the boy laid there, contently looking down at you. Your head was comfortably tucked against his shoulder, turned up at an angle so that you were still face to face.

He noted how your eyes glinted in the morning sun, watery due to lack of sleep. It was crazy to him; the effect that you had. He swore he could be on fire and all it would take to put him out was one of your reassuring smiles pointed even vaguely in his direction.

Realistically, Isaac knew he should’ve been sad- heartbroken, even. His father had just been quite brutally murdered, he should be a mess, but he wasn’t.

Maybe it had something to do with the years of trauma the man had inflicted on him or maybe it was Isaac’s new supernatural status, whatever the reason for it, Isaac wasn’t mourning the death of his father.

Instead, all he could think about was how warm your body felt against his.

“It’s morning time.” He smiled at your murmur, the smile widened when you pressed a soft kiss to his collarbone.

Isaac hummed in acknowledgment and squeezed your leg that you had thrown across his stomach. “Yeah.”

You moved your chin to rest against his chest, eyes looking into his, “We can stay here if you want. We don’t have to go to school.” You suggested but Isaac knew it was more of a plea when he saw the hopeful grin growing on your lips.

“Nah I gotta go in. I have lacrosse practice.” He spoke out, his voice low and grumbly from how tired he was.

You scoffed jokingly, pushing yourself up so your lips were hovering over his, “Lacrosse huh?”

His eyes were hooded now as he glanced down at your lips, his hands moving to grasp your waist, “Mhm.”

With a smirk you ghosted his lips with your own, you could hear his heart beating through his chest and you could feel how badly he wanted to connect his lips to yours.

“Well then I guess we better get a move on.” You whispered against his lips, pulling away abruptly and hoping out of the bed, strutting to the bathroom with a sway in your hips as you knew he was watching.

A look of disbelief was painted across his face as he shouted through the walls, “Out of all the things that have happened this week that was the most fucked up!”

You were going to kill Scott when you got your hands on him. Seriously could he have been anymore obvious?

“Scott! What the hell are you doing.” You whispered from the bleachers, knowing he could hear you.

The boy whispered back, determination clear in his voice, “There’s another werewolf. I need to find out who it is.”

He must’ve smelled it off him. So much for keeping it a secret.

“Scott stop, I know who it is.” You panicked, by the time the words left your mouth both Isaac and Scott had sent each other flying through the air.

As you made your way down from your spot on the bleachers to separate the commotion happening between your two baby werewolves, you noticed sheriff Stilinski and a few deputies making their way across the field.

The sheriff’s gaze was set on Isaac and you found your feet matching the older man’s pace in a silent race to get to the boy in question.

Unfortunately, since you were unable to use vamp speed, the sheriff had beaten you in the unspoken race. His hand had wrapped around Isaac’s bicep as he attempted to lead him away.

When you realised what was happening, you threw caution to the wind and began jogging, not even sparing Scott or Stiles a glance when they called out for you to stop.

Once you were close enough you reached out, successfully grabbing Isaac’s wrist and stopping him and the sheriff in their tracks. “What’s going on?” You demanded, looking between Isaac and the sheriff.

“They think I killed my dad.” Isaac told you quietly and you couldn’t stop the look of utter disbelief that appeared on your face as you moved to stand between Isaac and the sheriff.

“Are you kidding me?” The sheriff sighed with exhaustion at your shout. He knew it was going to be a long day when he saw his son and Scott marching toward the already escalating scene.

“Look, kid. He’s a suspect we have to hold him.” Sheriff Stilinski had been making arrests for a long time but he was sure the look you were giving him was the most venomous he’d ever seen.

“A suspect? Why? What’s your proof?” You shot out, eyebrows furrowed and fangs ready to spring from your gums.

Maybe it had something to do with the night of the full moon looming but you were finding it extremely difficult to keep your anger in check. After yesterday, you were almost certain if your rage got out out of hand there’d be no stopping you.

“We, uh, have reason to believe that Isaac had motive to kill his father. That’s all I can tell you.”

You scowled at him, easing up only slightly as you felt Isaac interlocking his fingers with yours from behind you. “That’s bullshit! He couldn’t have killed his dad because he was with me.” You lied smoothly.

The sheriff raised an eyebrow in disbelief, “With you?”

“Mhm. At my place.” You continued, ignoring the squeeze of warning you were getting from Isaac.

“Look, we have an eye witness account saying that Isaac fled his home, followed by his father and your name never came up.”

Letting out a cynical laugh you all but squared up to the man, “Yeah? And where do you think he fled to?” You asked challengingly.

You would’ve said more if Stiles hadn’t shoved himself in between yourself and his father, sporting a fake smile on his face as he started to ramble, “Hey guys! How we all doing? Good? Good. That’s really great to hear. (Y/n) can I borrow you for a second?” Stiles prompted you, nodding his head rather aggressively in an attempt to get you to stand down.

“No.” You and the sheriff spoke simultaneously, shocking Stiles.

“Young lady, I don’t think you understand the seriousness of what you’re saying. Being an accomplice to murder is a serious offence.” He told you sternly, clearly wanting to give you an opportunity to back down and walk away.

“(Y/n) come on.” Scott pleaded from behind you and you could feel the anxiety seeping off of both Stiles and Isaac.

Stiles laughed nervously, also trying to give you a fighting chance of walking away, “She’s not an accomplice! You’re not an accomplice, right?”

He fixed you with a confused look and repeated, “Right?”

“No I’m not an accomplice because Isaac didn’t kill his father!” You rebutted angrily through gritted teeth, the boys surrounding you terrified of the look on your face in that moment.

With a hard look, sheriff Stilinski took your arm in one hand and Isaac’s in the other and pulled the pair of you towards the police car, “I’m afraid I’m gonna have to take you both into holding.”

“Why the hell would you do that?” You heard Scott exclaim desperately from behind you, his voice two octaves higher than usual.

Carefully, you began to whisper quietly under your breath so that only Scott and Isaac would hear you, “Tonight’s the full moon. I’m not letting them put him in a holding cell alone. Call Derek. Come get us out.”

You didn’t glance back at Scott to check if he heard you, you simply kept walking ahead and complied with the sheriff as he placed you into the car, beside Isaac.

“Since we’re technically in prison and you’re technically part k9, does that mean you’re my bitch?” You wondered out loud, looking across the holding cell at Isaac who sat (moping) on the bench.

“Don’t make me laugh. I’m mad at you.” He grumbled and you pouted from your spot on the floor.

“It was a serious question.” You whined.

Isaac groaned, completely disregarding your question, “You’re insane? You know that don’t you?”

“Rude.” You complained, leaning your head back against the cold bars of the cell.

“No seriously. You shouldn’t be in here with me.” Isaac grumbled yet again.

“Ok, first of all, you shouldn’t even be in here in the first place because-“ you paused, took a deep breath and looked at the camera adjacent to yourself and Isaac on the wall outside the cell before shouting, “He didn’t fucking do anything!”

You had to force yourself into calming down as you felt your anger causing your heart rate to rise rapidly, you took one more deep breath and then continued what you had been saying.

“Secondly, and in all seriousness, the idea of you being in here on your own makes me feel physically sick, especially since it’s your first full moon and all this crap with the Argents going on… I just wanted to be with you.” You admitted sheepishly, picking at the sleeves of your jumper to avoid his gaze.

Isaac’s heart beat picked up at your words but you couldn’t say anything as yours had too, with a soft sigh he muttered, “You don’t have to protect me.”

“I know. I know you don’t need protection, you never have. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t strength in numbers right now.” Isaac was quiet for a second before speaking up again.

“Hey, babe?” You looked up at the sound of his voice, he was giving you a soft smile that made your heart skip a beat.

“Yeah?” Isaac was shaking his head in disbelief, he let out a short chuckle and made his way across the cement floor and slid down beside you.

You watched him fondly and couldn’t help the roaring laugh that left your mouth when he leaned in close to your ear and whispered, “I’m definitely your bitch.”

Before either of you knew it, night had fallen and you’d begun to feel antsy. Your chest grew heavy with each noise or set of passing footsteps. You paced the cell restlessly, wringing your hands together and doing your best to disregard the feeling of dread swelling up inside of you.

It wasn’t long before Isaac was holding his head in his hands, his knee jutting in the same restless manner that you were pacing.

Growls were rising from the back of his throat and you wouldn’t lie, it was making you more than a little nervous.

You slowly approached him, proceeding with extra caution you reached out and tugged on his sleeve, hoping the action would bring him a sense of familiarity and not startle him.

Isaac’s head whipped around, his eyes glowing amber when they landed on you. “What’s happening?” He asked in a growl.

As gently as you possibly could, you moved your hands to Isaac’s cheeks and did your best to ignore his changed features.

“It’s the full moon. How are you feeling?” You kept your voice quiet, again trying to accommodate his heightened senses.

Isaac only screwed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw tightly, “Like I want to rip apart everything I see within a fifty mile radius.”

Your eyes widened and you looked at the holding area door, helplessly wishing Scott would come rushing through the door.

Isaac’s face seemed, for once, not to be comfortable in your hold as he began to growl and attempt to break out of your grip.

“No, no, no. Isaac, hey. Look at me.” The wolf reluctantly stopped wiggling and fixed his gaze on yours. Your eyes were now blazing purple and you felt your own composure slipping from your grasp.

Another gutteral sound left Isaac’s throat, his clawed hands digging into your hips for some kind of leverage. “Just keep looking at me alright… God, I don’t actually know how to do this but, uhm, just think about something that’ll keep you grounded, ok?” You told him frantically, speeding through your words as you heard the approaching footsteps of someone who was definitely not Scott or Derek.

The boy in front of you nodded his head just as the door opened. No, it didn’t open, it was practically pulled off its hinges. Effectively ruining the progress you’d made with your moon crazy boyfriend.

The man who walked in was dressed like a deputy but the gushing wound and arrow sticking out of his leg gave him away as a fake. As well as that, the gun he was pointing at Isaac gave him away as a hunter.

“Oh shit.” It was your turn to growl when Isaac broke out of your grasp. He pulled the cell door clean off, and set off towards the hunter.

Immediately, you ran behind him but before you could stop the two from killing each other, something else caught your eye. And your nose. It had taken over all of your senses, actually…

The blood leaking from his leg had you frozen on the spot, your mouth watering and mind unable to focus.

By now, Isaac had tossed the hunter aside and you weren’t sure when, but at some point Stiles had entered the room and your boyfriend was now attempting to attack your main food source.

“(Y/n)! Little help here?” Stiles cried from the floor and you tried your best to pull yourself together.

It didn’t take too much strength for you to restrain Isaac, you had one arm wrapped around his shoulders and the other around his torso, successfully holding him against your chest.

You hadn’t noticed how hungry you were in the moment, you needed to eat before someone would need to restrain you.

Pushing the hunger away you tried your best to get through to the new wolf struggling against your grip.

“Remember the thing that keeps you grounded! What was it? Tell me about it.” You tried to prompt, however as soon as Isaac attempted to respond a resounding howl filled the room.

The sudden noise had caused Isaac to cower against you. His body shook against yours, reluctantly you released him from your hold, allowing him to curl up in fear against the nearest wall.

Derek stood at the head of the room, his aura screaming for command as he glowered down at Isaac before turning his gaze to you and Stiles.

“I’m the alpha.” The Hale stated pompously.

With a questioning laugh you motioned towards the mess of the room, Isaac in wolf form shaking and whining like a kicked puppy, a mercenary bleeding and unconscious on the tiles and a very rumpled up Stiles.

“What you are is a grade A ass. Where the hell were you?” Derek stiffened at your agitated tone.

The man in question cleared his throat, his authority slipping away in the presence of your glare, “Scott & I went to scope Isaac’s house.”

“And that took you six hours?” You scoffed, kneeling down next to Isaac and running a gentle hand through the scared boy’s hair.

He whimpered at your touch, only quieting down when you transferred as much calming energy as you could manage to conjure up onto him.

It was getting harder to ignore the blood lust you were feeling, the smell of blood and Stiles’ racing pulse were beginning to cloud your mind. It wasn’t the usual hunger, though. It felt far more violent. Almost as if you’d never be able to get enough no matter how much you consumed.

“I need to leave.” You stated, standing from your spot beside Isaac and fixing Derek with a hard look, “Take Isaac somewhere safe.”

“Wait hold on, where are you going?” Derek asked sternly.

“To find some blood before I start ripping people’s throats out.” You responded bluntly, not waiting for his reply, you used your speed to leave the sheriff's station.

You found yourself in the woods. Close to the old Hale house.

There was a certain scent, you couldn’t quite place it though. It was metallic, but unlike the blood you were used to, it smelled stale.

But still, it was captivating your senses and you needed to get to the bottom of it. You couldn’t decide what was more overpowering, your hunger or your curiosity.

Impatiently, you made your way through the darkened tree line, following the scent until it led you to the building you were oh so familiar with.

The Hale house stood before you, menacing as ever and reeking of old blood.

As you walked up the porch steps, the rotten stairs creaked with every shift of weight. When you finally placed your hand on the door you realised your mistake.

What felt like a billion bolts of electricity shot through your body the second your palm met the door knob.

All of your breath left your lungs as your body hit the floor. As your legs and arms seized and convulsed on the forest floor, having rolled down the porch steps with the force of the shock, a voice sounded from out of the shadows.

“Well, well, well. Look what we have here…” The voice was old and scratchy, something like a worn out vinyl, a record that had been played so often that some of the tunes now came out as a painful drawl. “Come on, let’s get her rigged up.” The man demanded and you writhed against the many pairs of hands that began dragging you to what you assumed was some kind of van.

Your vision was blurry as you attempted to get your bearings, sitting up in the van after the doors had been forcefully slammed and you were left alone.

“Le-“ You attempted to heave out words, your attempts were fruitless though as your lungs were still devoid of any oxygen.

Frustration seemed to give you the strength you needed as you finally regained enough control over your body to yell out, a very enraged, “Let me out you bastards!”

A cynical laugh came from the head of the van, “She has a lot of spunk. You’d know she was a L/n.”

“I’m going-“ You rasped yet again, fighting against the shackles that had been placed on your wrists at some point, “To fucking rip your stupid throat out! With my teeth!”

As threatening as your words were, your wheezy, out of breath voice let you down.

“Now, now. No need for that.” He spoke, only for a voice you recognised to cut him off.

“I’m starting to think this wasn’t the best idea.” It was Chris Argent. You forced yourself to move as close to the front of the van as your shackles would allow.

“What exactly do you plan on doing with an innocent seventeen year old, Mr.Argent?” You drawled, the electricity almost completely out of your system, your lungs finally working at their usual capacity again.

When the hunter didn’t grace you with a response, and you figured you couldn’t do much else right in the moment, you decided you’d poke the proverbial bear.

“You tried to kill my boyfriend tonight… it’d be a real shame if I had to retaliate.”

“Shut it.” Chris said, his voice unamused, bordering on nervous.

Bored, you clicked your tongue, “No, I don’t think I will. Anyway, unless you want me to go into graphic detail about how I’m going to disembowel both of you when I get out, tell me why you’re kidnapping me.”

The old man chimed in then, “Because you, little girl, are an abomination.”

“And you, old decrepit asshole, are getting on my last nerve. Give me a straight answer before I make you give me a straight answer.” You tugged violently at the chains, loosening them from the metal wall, to convey your point.

“Brute force will get you nowhere, little wolf.” Wolf? There was your opening. They didn’t have a clue about you.

Deciding you couldn’t give away your only edge, you played into their delusions, “Where was that a few hours ago when you sent a hitman to put down a seventeen year old boy who's never done anything worse than miss an assignment?”

He scoffed then, “No matter how sweet you think you are. You wolves are all the same. You’re all killers.”

A laugh left the back of your throat, “Are you senile or something? Last time I checked you hunter dickheads were the ones killing people.”

“That’s enough, we’re done talking.” Chris asserted, you couldn’t see either of the men you’d been speaking to but you could imagine their clenched jaws at your statement.

With a smirk you kept talking, “You killed, what was it? Oh yes. All of the Hale’s. Cora was only a little older than me at the time, Kate torched the house five years ago so that would have made Cora twelve years old when she was burned alive.”

You paused for a second, allowing your anger to seep off of you and onto them. “Tell me… what monstrosities could a twelve year old girl have committed?”

“This is your last warning.” Chris grumbled and you ignored him yet again.

“All of these broken morals lead me to wonder; what would precious Alison think of all of this? Maybe I’ll ask her at school on Monday.” You tormented the men, readying yourself to make a break for it as you felt the van slow down.

Quietly, or as quietly as you possibly could, you freed your wrists from their shackles. Shakily you stood up and then you waited.

When the door opened you fixed the two men who were looking at you in mild shock with a smirk, “Hi.”

“How did you… those shackles were doused in mistletoe.” At the old man's shock your smirk broadened. It was something you had found out from both Damon Salvatore and Deaton. Mistletoe only weakened wolves, not vampires.

With a coy shrug you shot them a wink, “I’d really love to stay and chat but, I have homework.” With that you began to run, but the older man caught your forearm before you got a clean break.

And normally, his amount of strength wouldn’t have been able to stop you, what was really hindering your movement was the dagger he had logged in your abdomen.

Your eyes were wide and you let out a pathetic squeal of pain when he twisted the knife in your stomach, his voice was menacing as he spoke, “You’re not going anywhere.” He spat out in your face, hand firm on the dagger.

“Yes. I. Am.” You seethed through gritted teeth, containing the blood that was filling your mouth.

Using whatever strength you could muster, you threw the man away from you and took off running, the dagger still lodged in your abdomen.

When you were sure you were far enough away, you fell to your knees.

Taking a shaky breath you looked around the street you’d landed on. You weren’t sure where you were and your phone was lying abandoned on the floor of the woods. It was times like this you wish you had a howl.

Then as if it was some incredible mirage, driving down the street was a light blue jeep. “Stiles!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, dragging yourself to the edge of the road.

“Stiles! Stiles please!” You cried out, letting out a breath of relief when the jeep stopped only a few meters from you.

Within seconds Stiles was sprinting over to you, sliding the rest of the way on his knees and cupping your face with a terrified expression, “Y/n!? What hap- hu- oh dear god!” He tried his best not to gag when he noticed that you were literally impaled.

“Ok. Ok. No what happened? Wait no. Right not important.” The boy rambled and you let him lead you as he picked you up from the dirt and placed you laying down across the back seat of his jeep.

Stiles drove like a madman to the hospital, wincing when you’d whimper and muttering apologies when you’d let out a cry.

“I think you would’ve been really proud of how I handled that situation.” You jested weakly from your spot, Stiles looked at you briefly in disbelief.

“What? By getting stabbed?” He shot back.

You offered him a faint giggle, “Nah, you shoulda heard me, Sty. I was such a snarky bitch.”

“So that’s how the stabbing thing happened. Got it.”

Only a few more minutes passed before you’d arrived at the hospital. Stiles had practically dragged you in and you couldn’t help the mewls of agony you were letting out as he passed you off to Melissa.

“What the hell happened?” She screeched and all you could offer in response was a blood filled cough, causing Melissa to nod her head in understanding, “Right. Questions later.”

Aimlessly you looked around for something, anything.

You were in complete darkness, but your body stood tall and seemingly healthy, no sign of any kind of wound.

A dull, yellow light shone in the distance. Cautiously, you took a step forward and it was only then that you knew where you were.

Under your feet, which were devoid of any shoes or socks, wet leaves crunched under your weight and you found yourself, yet again, standing in front of the Hale house.

It looked how it usually did, sad and decolate. However, what was unusual was that dull light shining through one of the partially melted windows.

Humming sounded from the home, hitting your ears in perfect pitch. It brought a wave of calmness over you, tranquilizing your fears as you twisted the knob that had once sent you into a horrific shock.

The rotten hardwood cooled your feet as you shuffled thoughtlessly through the house which you used to view as a home away from home.

“You put up a great fight.” A deep voice spoke from inside the lit room.

The voice was unmistakable, but you knew that there was only one explanation for why you were hearing it. For as long as you could, you wanted to hold onto your naivety.

“Who's there?” You called in response while small steps carried you closer and closer to the room.

The voice let out a chuckle, “I think you already know.”

Finally, you arrived in the room. Confronting the voice you knew all too well.

“Good to see you again, sweetheart.” You saw his face then, standing charred and battered like a fallen angel was Peter Hale.

The sob that fell from you was impossible to stop, you didn’t waste another second, you threw yourself at the man in front of you. A teary smile found your face when he welcomed you with open arms, his arms wrapped tightly around you as you cried into his shoulder.

“Quiet now, no more tears.” He said, pulling away from you, his thumb brushing under your eye gently, sweeping the falling teardrops away.

With a sniffle you looked at your surroundings before returning your gaze to Peter, “Am I dead?” You asked meekly.

Oddly enough, you felt accepting of it. Liked it, almost. It was quiet here- wherever here was.

“Temporarily.” He answered, guiding you further into the room. It had a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling and two wooden chairs sat vacant underneath it. “Have a seat.”

Doing as told, you sat down on the chair opposite Peter. “Where are we?” You questioned, the silence, although peaceful, was overwhelming.

Peter gave you a small grin, gesturing to the room around you, “Purgatory.” He answered simply.

He stared at you then, a look in his eyes you recognised but, for the first time since you’d turned, you couldn’t feel it. It was something akin to sadness. It held love too, though.

“The next part is the hardest. When you wake up you won’t have a clue how you got there. You’ll be starving and all you’ll want to do is start tearing people apart.” He explained and your stomach dropped.

You were going to wake up and complete the transition, you’d be a fully fledged vampire and all because of some stupid knife wound.

“I won’t remember being dead?”

Peter shook his head, “You’ll remember this part, not the actual passing over part though.”

A tear slipped from your eye and you forced yourself to take in a shaky breath, “Passing over to where?”

Peter shrugged, “Don’t know. I’ve never gotten that far; too much unfinished business.” He tried to lighten the mood, but he realised there was no use as he noticed your breathing pick up and your eyes fill with tears yet again.

“You’re strong, you’ll be perfectly fine. You are my beta, after all.” He soothed, moving his chair so it would be next to yours.

You let out a croaky laugh at that, “I haven’t been strong. I’ve been drowning ever since you bit me, I haven’t done much other than fight with myself.”

“Not true. I’ve been keeping an eye on you. Keeping Derek under control is a job not everyone is up for, but you’re doing it like it’s nothing. Although, you’d be doing a lot better if I had gotten to you before Derek ripped by throat out.” He muttered the last part, obviously not happy with your trip to Mystic Falls.

“Damon told me you used to drink together.” You recalled with a smile, distracting yourself from the future of impending darkness.

Peter laughed at the memory but didn’t speak.

The dense silence returned, not for long though, distantly you heard shouts. They were more like pleads really. Or were they screams?

“Y/n! Can you hear me? Y/n! Y/n!”

Softly, you turned your head towards the doorway, the hallway light was turned on now too, “Someone’s calling me.”

Peter stood up, a heavy grief filled sigh falling from him as he offered you his hand and pulled you to your feet when you took it. “It’s almost time. But not just yet, there's one last thing you need to do.”

“What is it?” You asked, not sure if you wanted to know the answer.

Peter pulled you close, placed a kiss to the top of your head then began guiding you, arm tightly wrapped around your shoulder.

He answered you solemnly, blue eyes sparkling with unwanted wisdom, “You have to say goodbye.”

#isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey #teen wolf x reader #derek hale x reader #stiles stilinski x reader #scott mccall x reader #peter hale x reader #derek hale #stiles stilinski #scott mccall #peter hale #folklore i.l

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hizashis-lil-bunbun · 3 years

Text

Like a Moth to a Flame- Pt. 2

It’s been way too long since I’ve been motivated to work on this piece. But at last… at long last… part two is ready for takeoff! Once again I thank/blame @miscellaneous-bnha for inspiring this piece of monster fuckery (even though there’s no fuckery in this story… yet).

Enjoy!

Part 1

•••••

You become more distracted and nervous than usual over the next week or so. The slightest sound nearly makes you jump out of your skin and you keep making careless mistakes at work. Even your boss checks in with you to make sure you aren’t sick or losing your grip on reality. You assure him everything is fine and blame your poor performance and skittish nature on a made-up relative’s failing health. In truth, you can’t go for more than a few minutes without thinking about the blonde beast, his beautiful yet terrifying presence seeming to loom over you wherever you go. But you don’t dare tell any of your friends or coworkers about what you saw.

Who would believe you? At best, they’d think you were telling a bad joke and at worst they’d try to cart you off to the nearest mental hospital. So you keep your thoughts private, suffering in silence and staying up late to research who or what you saw that night.

And it's during one of your late-night Internet searches that you stumble across a forum dedicated to winged, humanoid creatures known as “mothmen.”

While the stories mainly originate from the Eastern United States, there have also been purported sightings as far as Japan. And though details may have varied slightly, the key features of the monsters always remain the same: massive height, glowing eyes, and of course the moth-like wings. You’d spent hours poring over your laptop that night, reading the information and accounts posted by other “mothman survivors.” Some stories were rather nice. One woman claimed the mothman she encountered was gentle, bordering on intelligent. She wrote about the gifts and trinkets it brought from time to time and it’s attempts at communication. But the majority were horrifying, with several people posting tales of the beasts attacking without provocation, leaving them injured and afraid. Someone even posted a picture of the deeply scarred claw marks on his chest and arms, claiming them to be the work of a particularly savage mothman. Regardless of their validity, one thing was for sure: the mothmen were unpredictable.

By the end of the second week, you’ve grown so desperate to stop the near constant waking nightmares that you decide to take a proactive approach to the matter. It’s a simple plan: set a trap, wait for the monster to reappear, and collect photo evidence. Even if it’s only to soothe your own self-doubts, you need to have definitive proof of its– of his existence.

On Friday night, you come home late from work, so late the sun has just barely set over the horizon. After a hot shower and a quick meal of instant noodles, you grab a shallow bowl from the cupboard and fill it with lukewarm water. One of the contributors to the website claimed that mothmen like sugar water, much like the insects they resemble. Another had proposed they might even enjoy the taste of cloth or fiber, but you weren’t about to sacrifice one of your favorite sweaters on a wild hunch.

You spoon in a generous amount of sugar into the bowl, mixing well to create a saccharine slurry before heading for the farthest living room window. Unlike the one you’d spotted the mothman from, this one is partially obscured by a rickety fire escape, the metal encrusted with decades worth of rust and snaking up the side of the building. Opening the window and leaning out of it, you place the dish of bait on one of the steps before hauling yourself back inside. You shut the window and settle yourself on the couch, a blanket and book in your lap and your phone’s camera at the ready. Hours tick by, the waning moon slowly creeping by in the night sky as you hold your silent vigil. As you wait in suffocating silence, you start to feel foolish and begin to think your “mothman” might have been nothing more than a product of an overactive imagination and one too many late nights in the office. Even with all your research, all you had to go by was a few wild stories posted by Internet strangers and a missing frying pan. You finally nod off around two in the morning, unable to keep your heavy eyelids open.

•••

WHAM!

A noise from outside jolts you awake from your spot on the couch, followed by the sound of creaking, groaning metal. The whole apartment seems to shake and an unearthly screech accompanies the final creak as you hear the fire escape give way before clattering into the alleyway. Other tenants on all floors start opening their windows and doors, shouting and swearing about the noise and the landlord “not keeping this shithole up to code.” It’s utter chaos for a few minutes and then silence falls once more, your neighbors still grumbling as they retreat back into their homes. You scramble off the couch and to the window, gazing into the alley for any sign of life. The moon isn’t as bright as last time, but you can just barely make out the mangled remains of the fire escape and the faintest glimpse of gold. Throwing caution to the wind, you grab a well-worn hoodie, your phone, and the kitchen knife. You make your way down the three flights of stairs to the alley door, opening it cautiously should you encounter an angry cryptid on the other side. But there’s no one there, so you take a deep breath and head out into the apocalyptic looking alley. Metal is strewn everywhere, with part of the railing still clinging to the side of the building like a deranged centipede. Snapped metal bars jut out at odd angles, creating a maze of twisted, rusty spikes and sharp edges. You slowly pick your way over and around the wreckage, using your phone’s flashlight as a guide so you don’t end up tripping and accidentally impaling yourself.

“Hello?” You call into the darkness, “Mothman? A-are you there?”

Your call is rewarded with a shuddering groan and the sounds of scraping metal. You shine your light on the biggest tangle of steel, watching as something large moves underneath it. The pile of metal shifts upwards and falls away, while a large, dark figure rises from the shadows. They’re silhouetted against the dim moonlight but just as intimidating as before, hunching over as the appendages on their back shake and rustle. You turn the flashlight on and find yourself looking into a familiar pair of glassy, blue eyes. The mothman stares back at you, folding his wings against his back and cocking his handsome head from side to side.

“You- you’re real.” You breathe, feeling your heart jump into your throat as you surreptitiously pull up your phone’s camera. The monster chitters in response as he sniffs at the air, stepping over a piece of rusted debris to get closer to you. You quickly snap and picture... and the alley is suddenly lit up with blinding light.

You’d forgotten to turn off the flash!

The mothman blinks in response and lets out a groan, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. You drop your phone and crouch down, knife forgotten as you cover your head with your hands and prepare for him to lash out. But no claws come to tear at your flesh nor are there any angry roars or shrieks. Instead the beast starts to emit low, rumbling noise, like a growl but far less sinister. You hear metal being dragged across the concrete followed by the sound of heavy footfalls. You cautiously open one eye to see a pair of clawed feet and muscular calves, only to squeak in alarm when his face abruptly appears in your field of vision. You fall backwards in surprise, landing heavily on your rump while the mothman squats mere inches from you. His eyes are fixed on the ground, gently running his nails over the now cracked screen of your upturned phone. Even in the dim lighting you can see his curious, wide-eyed expression and it suddenly dawns on you what that noise he’s making is: he’s purring. Or near enough to it.

“W-What do you want?”

The monster looks up when you speak, cocking his head slightly before turning back to paw at the phone once more. He’s more insistent this time, his swipes becoming bolder as the phone scratches across the concrete. He gives the device a few well-placed taps before making eye contact once more, his brow furrowed as he briefly switches from purring to a chittering cry. With a gulp, you gingerly set down the blade, reach across your body and flip the phone over, the still lit flashlight illuminating the alley once more. The beast’s eye’s blow even wider, enchanted by the light shining upwards into the starry sky. You sit in silence for a few seconds, the only sounds are your heavy breathing and the guttural purrs coming from the mesmerized mothman. As your heart rate slows, you begin to notice more intimate details about the creature before you.

For one, his wings are covered in the same fur that rings his neck and, though it’s shorter and more fine, they look just as soft.

Second, he’s incredibly warm. A steady heat rolls off his body in waves that seem a stark contrast to what one might expect from a bug-centric cryptid.

But most noticeable of all is his smell.

It’s not a bad smell by any means; in fact, it’s downright pleasant. The odor is a cross between lemonade and petrichor, a soothing blend of sweet citrus and earthy musk. You find yourself unconsciously breathing more through your nose, feeling lightheaded as his scent floods your senses and making you relax into the cold pavement. As your eyes lazily drift over his naked form you see he’s holding something in his other hand, protectively clutching it against his chest. You tilt your head to get a better view, the subtle movement getting the monster’s attention and causing him to drag his eyes away from the light and focus on you again.

“What’s that?” You ask softly, almost dreamily, and point to his chest. The mothman’s eyes follow your finger down to his right hand, pulling it away to reveal your (still remarkably intact) bowl. It’s largely empty of its contents, but some of the sugar water has stuck to his fur and cooled into sweet, matted clumps. He squeaks at the sight of it, almost like he’d forgotten about the bait and dives into it to eagerly lap at the ceramic bottom. When it fails to yield anything substantial he huffs and turns his attention to his dirtied mane. He dips his head as a long, pink tongue slithers out of his mouth and curls around the largest tangle, laving over the sugar-crusted mat before quickly retreating. He chitters in satisfaction at the taste, barely glancing up at you before diving back down for more.

“So you do like sugar.” You mutter under your breath, a small chuckle bubbling up in your chest on the exhale. The mothman pays you no mind, too engrossed in his work to notice how you shift your body into a more comfortable sitting position to watch. After a few minutes, the creature stops licking at himself and looks back up at you, eyes still wide and expression almost curious as he cocks his head to the side once more. Tentatively shifting his weight forward, he extends the empty bowl to you.

“I don’t have any more.” You whisper softly, confused yet intrigued by his gentle actions. The mothman grunts and takes another shuffling step, hand still outstretched and his brow softly furrowing. He seems insistent, almost annoyed that you won’t accept his generous offer. Not wanting to anger him, you gingerly extend your own right hand, pinching the rim of the bowl between thumb and forefinger before carefully pulling it from his grip. Holding the bowl against your own chest, you take a stab at what he wants from you and raise the ceramic dish to your lips to give a noisy, pretend slurp. You feel like an adult humoring a child in a game of “tea party,” offering him a cheesy smile and an “mmm” of satisfaction as you pull the empty bowl away from your face. The creature’s own face splits in a too-wide grin, wings flapping excitedly and chittering happily at your display. A quiet gasp is ripped from you throat as you finally get a good look at his teeth.

They’re practically perfect; two rows of pearly white, blunted incisors frames by sharpened, too-long canines on either end. And the smile he’s giving you is nothing short of exuberant, beaming like a drop of sunshine made incarnate. You find yourself returning his smile with a genuine one of your own, amazingly unafraid in the face of this otherwise inhuman beast. But your relief is short-lived as the monster suddenly shifts onto his knees and bounds towards you on all fours.

“Woah, woah, woah!” You squeak, scrabbling backwards and nearly skewering yourself on a jagged piece of wreckage in an attempt to get away. “Take it easy! Down, boy!”

The mothman stops with his face mere inches from yours, clawed hands planted on either side of your hips and still grinning from ear to ear. Carefully, he lowers his golden head to rest against your left shoulder, nuzzling into the sensitive flesh and purring softly in your ear. It’s an act of unbelievable tenderness, of affection, and it stirs something deep within your jackhammering heart. Moving slowly so as to not startle him, you relinquish your hold on the empty bowl and raise your right hand to his head, gently placing it against his temple. At the feeling of your fingers in his hair, the creature freezes for a second and you suck in a quick breath, prepared to pay the price for your boldness. But simply leans further into your touch, closing his eyes contentedly and pushing against your palm like an obedient pet as his purring reaches a fever pitch.

“Good… good boy.” You exhale slowly, thumb brushing across the apple of his surprisingly warm cheek. “That’s a good boy.”

You stay locked together for what feels like ages, the only sounds your own heavy breathing and the monster’s soft purrs of pleasure as you stroke him. Finally you finds your voice again and you softly stammer out, “Do you– do you have a name?”

His eyes open slightly at your question, briefly raising his head with a small chirp. Removing your hand from his face, you splay your palm across your chest and give it two quick pats.

“Y/N.” You say slowly, enunciating each syllable, “I’m Y/N.”

The creature cocks his head for a second and pulls away from you to get into a kneeling position. You pat your chest and repeat yourself once more. The mothman then takes one of his own massive paws and places it on his own chest, mirroring your movements.

“M-Mir…” He chokes out, voice raspy but surprisingly human, like he hasn’t used it in a long time. “Mir… io. Mirio.”

“Mirio?”

Hearing his name fall from your lips elicits another bright smile from the mothman, wings giving a single flap as he curls his hand into a fist atop his sternum.

“Mirio!” He says more boldly, giving his chest two hearty thumps for emphasis.

“Mirio.” You repeat softly, “That’s a nice name.”

His eyes soften at your words, almost as if he understood the compliment. He opens his mouth once more, but before he can speak, a new voice cuts through the night air.

“Hey! What’s going on over there?”

You whip your head towards the source of the noise, moments before you feel a rush of cold air accompanied by a sharp hiss. Someone is picking their way through the wreckage to your location, their own flashlight sweeping over the heaps of rusted metal until it lands on your startled face. Squinting into the light, you can barely make out the silhouette of a man and you feel a bolt of panic shoot through you. You turn back to face Mirio only to find him gone.

“Mirio?” You speak into the darkness, as if uttering the word might make him reappear. But there’s only empty space and silence, punctuated by the heavy footfalls of the stranger coming ever closer to you. It’s only when he’s within a few feet that you can make out the telltale flash of gold on his chest: an officer’s badge.

“Are you alright?” The man asks of you, still shining the flashlight directly into your face. “Are you hurt?”

“Huh? Oh! Yes. I’m fine, sir.”

“Are you sure?” The officer asks quizzically, extending a hand for you to take. You graciously accept his offer, retrieving the forgotten bowl and phone from the concrete with your free hand before hauling yourself back onto your feet.

“Y-yes I’m sure.” You stammer out, “I just, uh… I heard a noise outside my apartment and came to investigate.”

“Awfully late to be investigating strange noises in an alley.” He says incredulously, cocking one eyebrow and shining his light over the ruined fire escape at his feet for emphasis. “Especially in this part of town.”

His light catches on something glinting at your feet and your eyes follow it to land on the forgotten kitchen knife on the ground. His own eyes snap back to you and narrow suspiciously, free hand slowly moving towards the holster resting against his hip.

“Are you alone out here?”

“Yes, sir!” You squeak back automatically, “I swear it’s just me. I live in this apartment complex.”

You gesture to the brick-fronted side of the building to your right as proof of your innocence, praying to all the powers that be that he buys your story. The officer narrows his eyes at you, muttering a quiet, “Huh. Could’ve sworn I saw someone…” before clearing his throat and straightening his posture.

“Well in any case, you should probably head inside now, miss. There have been reports of criminal activity in the area as of late and I wouldn’t want you getting hurt. What with all this rusty metal lying around.”

“Yeah, no use getting a tetanus shot over nothing!” You say jokingly, giving a nervous chuckle as the officer nods solemnly. You don’t dare go to pick up the knife, deciding it’s better to lose another kitchen utensil than land yourself in any more hot water. With a few more parting words, and a declined offer to let him walk you back home, you quickly skirt around the remains of the fire escape and into the safety of the stairwell door. Your mind and heart are racing as you plod up the stairs to the third floor, buzzing with questions without answers as you finally enter and lock the door to your one-bedroom sanctuary. Exhaling a breath you don’t know you were holding, you walk silent over to the living room windows and cast a final glance into the alleyway below. You can see the officer’s flashlight bobbing along as he makes his way around the scattered remains of the fire escape, only to switch off once he reaches the end of the alleyway and resumes his patrol of the neighborhood. But you still wait by the window for a few more minutes, wondering (and perhaps hoping) if you’d catch a final glimpse of flaxen hair or hear the steady beat of wings.

Silence reigns above all, the soft glow of the moon your only companion now.

With a heavy sigh, you peel your eyes away from the wreckage and plod off to your bedroom, stripping off your hoodie and sweatpants as you go. Curling up under the covers, you grab the pillow closest to you and hug it to your chest. If you close your eyes, you can almost believe you can still feel the warmth of his face on your neck, or smell the aroma of him lingering on your skin.

“I hope you’re alright… Mirio.”

#bnha mothman au #mothmanmirio #mothrio #togata mirio x reader #mirio x reader #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha #like a moth to a flame

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scoutception · 3 years

Text

A look at: Moon.

Writing reviews is always a learning experience for me, and one of the important things I’ve learned is that, sometimes, it’s pretty hard to write about certain individual games, visual novels, or such considering the kind of detail I like to go into. Therefore, this will be the first in a new series of mini reviews, or as mini as they get with me. Maybe there’s just not enough to a game to really give me details to dig into, or maybe it’s difficult to talk about without giving away more than I wish, or maybe there’s just something related to it that I’m more interested in talking about than the actual product; whatever the reason, these will hopefully be less rambly and excessive than my usual reviews, while still giving enough of an overview that they stand as proper reviews on their own. Either way, the subject of this post is an old, obscure visual novel from 1997 with a bit of history to it, called Moon.

Moon was developed by Tactics, a humble developer of adult visual novels, and was the second one developed by them, with the first, Dōsei, seemingly just being, well, a plain H-game, and the third, One ~To the Radiant Season~, while still obscure, is actually fairly notable for being a prototype to Kanon in a lot of ways, as many key staff at Tactics would later break off to form Key afterwards, with them having also worked on Moon beforehand. Thus, Moon is in a very interesting spot when it comes to the progression of the developers that would change VNs as a genre with the release of Kanon, and that’s really the only reason I checked it out.

Moon follows Ikumi Amasawa, a girl who joins a mysterious organization called Fargo, which recruits others with the promise of acquiring an alleged “invisible strength” that can put one far ahead of ordinary humans, in order to investigate their possible connections to the murder of her mother, and if possible, take revenge on the ones responsible. Upon arriving at the Fargo facility, Ikumi quickly befriends two other initiates with ulterior motives of their own for joining: Haruka Mima, a determined girl with a cool attitude who keeps her goal to herself, and Yui Nakura, a cheerful, but naive girl who’s seeking to bring home her older sister, who joined Fargo several months prior. Though the three agree to become allies and help each other achieve their goals, they are quickly separated in different “classes” housed in different buildings, with Ikumi being assigned to Class A, the most prestigious of them all. Settling into her new life as a Fargo initiate, which mostly consists of “training” with the Minmes and Elpod, machines that confront her with various parts of her very troubled past for the purpose of “mental reinforcement” in the form of a vengeful doppelganger of herself, Ikumi gradually discovers many strange things about her situation, such as there only being one other member of Class A, that being Youko Kanuma, a quiet, cold woman who has been part of Fargo for many years. Additionally, Ikumi is forced to share her room with a strange boy who doesn’t volunteer his name, who, though part of Fargo itself, is quite low ranking, and more than a bit dim witted at times. Worst of all, upon finding a passage that allows her to access the buildings where her allies are kept, Ikumi finds that the other classes are subjected to horrific abuses by Fargo’s personnel in order to further their mental reinforcement. As Ikumi struggles to aid her allies however she can, the confrontations with her past begin to put a heavy strain on her mind, and the existence of the invisible strength Fargo claims to have starts to become more and more plausible.

Needless to say, Moon isn’t exactly Clannad. I did not know much about this VN before I got into it, and finding it to be a psychological horror VN was a bit of a shock. Even more of a shock was just what form the majority of the horror came in. You see, even though One ~To the Radiant Season~, Kanon, and Air were all released as adult games, the h-scenes are very disconnected from the plot, most of the time, to the point of losing nothing from skipping them or even removing them from the game, and were pretty much just obligatory inclusions to help them sell better. From Clannad onward, most Key VNs have been clean to start. With Moon, on the other hand, you can’t go 5 minutes without running into some explicit scene, the main source being the Elpod sequences and the abuses the Fargo personnel inflict, and it wastes no time getting to them, at that. This is the biggest thing that drives off many of the few who go out of their way to experience Moon, and even with me having just watched an understandably censored playthrough of this on Youtube due to its shorter length, I almost quit very early into it, and definitely would have if I had actually played it. The Elpod is one thing, as the sequences are used for the purpose of developing Ikumi, but even then, most of them are just excessively disgusting more than disturbing, and that goes doubly for the sequences outside of it. Instead of really changing things up, they’re just content to get gradually more and more depraved, and outside of disgusting, the main thing I can even call them is repetitive. This is one of my biggest problems with Moon, and it was pretty hard for me to get into it because of it.

Another major problem I have with Moon is how it handles its cast. Moon is pretty short for a VN, only around 10 or 11 hours if you go straight for the true ending, and even though there are 7 endings in total, they don’t add much more time onto that, with two being worse variants on the true ending, and the rest being bad endings gotten through making bad choices. Having as small a cast as it does should naturally work fine with that, but they really aren’t balanced well. While Ikumi gets developed across the whole game, and Yui gets a good arc pretty early on, Haruka only gets a short arc that ends as quickly as it starts and doesn’t do a lot for her, Youko barely has any screentime despite establishing a good dynamic with Ikumi, and the boy doesn’t have much presence or relevance until late in the story. The pacing is just bizarre and rushed feeling.

That’s not to say there aren’t a number of good points to Moon’s story. Ikumi is very well developed throughout the story, with the Minmes in particular leading to many melancholic scenes that make her quite sympathetic, and were definitely the high points of the normally rigid daily schedule much of the story takes place during for me. Despite the story’s flawed handling of some of them, the cast is still decent on a whole, with Youko’s gradually developing friendship with Ikumi and Yui’s development during her arc being some of the more memorable parts for me. The atmosphere is very well done, with the cramped, depressing corridors of the facility always feeling like they’re hiding something awful just around the corner, especially since you need to manually navigate the place using a map screen, and once the plot really kicks into high gear things become much more compelling, with the final days containing many high points in characterization and an infamous mindscrew of a sequence that, once looked back on with a more understanding eye, is actually quite fascinating in its own right.

Visually, Moon’s art was done by Itaru Hinoue, the same artist as the majority of Key’s VNs, and it’s a lot rougher than the art of, say, Kanon. It’s not outright bad, but it looks very dated, with the designs and sprites not really sticking out. The CGs vary in quality, as some look pretty ridiculous, but others are quite good. Most impressive, though, is two animated intro sequences included in the DVD version, which happens to be the only version with an English patch anyway. They’re fairly brief, but do a great job of setting up the atmosphere and premise despite that.

On the sound side, the soundtrack is great. It’s not a very big one, with only about 16 tracks, and the use of them can get a bit repetitive, but most of them are just a joy to listen to. From the electronic and tense Closed Space, to the wistful, yet peaceful The Place Where the Sun Shines, to Youko’s ethereal theme, to the credits theme, Sorrow, and especially the nostalgic music box theme, Memory, it’s worth looking up even if you hold no interest in the VN itself. There’s also voice acting, also added in the DVD version, and most of it is just average, with not many performances standing out, with the exception of Kahoru Sasajima as Ikumi, who delivers a very solid performance, especially during the more intense moments.

Overall, Moon can be a pretty hard sell. While I thought it was a decent experience by the end, its very offputting content, lack of similarity to any other Key works, and bleak atmosphere can make it pretty hard to go through even if you’re prepared for what’s to come. Even if you wanted a horror VN, there’s plenty others out there, like Chaos;Head and Chaos;Child, Higurashi: When They Cry, Wonderful Everyday, Raging Loop, or just about anything from nitro+. That said, if you can stick to the end, I definitely feel it becomes fairly satisfying, and when I got to thinking, I realized something that actually boosted my opinion quite a bit just by itself. As much as Moon is a story about cults and psychic powers with a somewhat unclear point to it all, it’s even more so just a story about a very troubled youth struggling with her grief, irrationally falling in with a bad crowd, and being forced to face her past and actions if she wishes to accomplish anything. Looking at the story that way, it’s actually quite well done, and going in with that in mind may even make it a bit more palatable. Still, I wouldn’t especially go out of my way to recommend it, and ultimately it’s still very far from being one of my favorite visual novels out there. Either way, that concludes my first mini review, which still turned out longer than I thought it would. My next post will be something unusual for me as well, but that’ll take a bit to come. Till next time. -Scout

#moon #visual novel #key #game review #vn

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ecoamerica · 15 days

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Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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lveclouds · 3 years

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mist (i won’t say i’m in love sequel)

↬ pairing/character(s): hercules! mingi x reader, wooyoung as terpishchore (muse of dance), seonghwa as erato (muse of love poetry), hongjoong as euterpe (muse of music), jongho as polyhymnia (muse of hymns), san as clio (muse of history), yeosang as thaila (muse of comedy), and yunho as urania (muse of astronomy)

↬ genre: fluff, heavy angst, mutual pining, ancient greece au, strangers to lovers

↬ tw: mentions of death, heavy swearing, soul-selling, servitude, mentions of bullying (nothing too intense), mentions of abandonment, love triangle (im sorry in advance)

↬ disclaimer: may contain slight inaccuracies with dates, setting, etc. i also changed the story a bit to make it a little less intense. also, i forgot to mention this, but there may or may not be a slight plot twist and you guys are probably going to hate me for it :’) also this is loosely based off of hercules, the disney animated fim/ greek mythology

p.s. i am no expert on greek mythology or greek culture, so feel free to correct me on anything, but please be gentle about it.

↬ rating: m, 18+

↬ wc: 12k

↬ summary: you felt your heart ache at the utter anger and confusion on mingi’s face. “you lied to me?” “yes, but i-” “but you what? thought it would be amusing to lead me on? to rip my heart out?” you flinched at the uncharacteristic coldness in mingi’s voice. “please, i can explain-” mingi shook his head, grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. “i never want to see you again, and don’t you ever think for one second that i’m going to come to rescue you from whatever danger you might face. you disgust me.” he snapped, voice as hard as steel. you could only watch, helplessly, as the man you loved walked away, taking your heart with him. seonghwa, who’d been watching from the safety of a tree, came running over to you and pulled you into his arms, holding you tight as you sobbed.

“why, why am i afraid?” - ateez (mist)

↬ note: hello friends!! this is the sequel to my previous au, “i won’t say i’m in love”! thank you all for supporting me and my mediocre writing, and i hope you all enjoy reading “mist!” as always, feedback is always appreciated, and i hope you all are staying safe and healthy!

you hummed quietly to yourself as you sat on the edge of the low wall that surrounded the garden, letting your feet dangle in the air, mindlessly swinging them back and forth. the night air was cool and crisp, and the moon was glowing serenely against the midnight blue sky, bathing the garden in a soft, white light. it was late, and despite the hectic evening you’d had, you couldn’t bring yourself to sleep.

seonghwa, san, and the others had reluctantly disappeared into their small cottage to retire for the night, after you had assured them that you were just going to sit around in the garden for a few minutes before joining them. your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. after all, you had just confessed your deepest and darkest secret to the people you considered family, and they hadn’t turned you away like you thought they would. however, you weren’t sure how you were going to gather up the courage to tell mingi.

you scoffed, immediately erasing the idea from your mind. don’t be ridiculous, it’s not like he would care anyways. besides, you’re not supposed to fall for him, you’re supposed to break his heart, so it doesn’t matter what he thinks of you. you ignored the bile rising in your throat. at first, you had thought that the task would be easy, as you were sure you weren’t ever going to fall for someone again, especially not after the way your past romance had ended tragically.

you clenched the soft fabric of your blue chiton in your hands, feeling angry tears prick at the corner of your eyes. you hated feeling so conflicted, especially over someone who had practically ripped your heart out. after all, men had done nothing but disappoint you, and your former lover had proved that to be true.

seonghwa couldn’t sleep. he was too worried about you, especially now that he knew that hades had a motive to hurt you. his heart had ached as you broke down and told everyone your secret. he sighed, running a hand through his messy hair and looked around him. even in the darkness of the small room, he could just make out the vibrant blue of hongjoong’s hair, yeosang’s light blonde hair, wooyoung and san curled up against one another, and jongho and yunho sprawled out on the bed across from him. seonghwa allowed himself a small, fond smile. he was grateful that he was able to spend time with his family every day, and that they were always safe and sound at the end of the day.

seonghwa reluctantly slid out of his warm bed, shrugged his worn sandals on, slipped out the door and into the cool night. he wandered mindlessly around the garden, admiring how the blue and pink flowers that grew in its vicinity stood out against the dark of the night. the air was cool and soothing against his skin as he wandered farther, mind swimming with thoughts.

suddenly, seonghwa heard faint sobs, and felt his blood run cold. he wandered into a more secluded part of the garden, and felt his heart drop into his stomach. you were sitting at the edge of the low wall that surrounded the perimeter of the garden, hands gripping the soft fabric of your chiton so hard that your knuckles were turning white, body was shaking with soft sobs. seonghwa immediately ran over to you, throwing his arms around you and pulling you into a hug. “h-hwa. i-i’m s-sorry, did i wake you?” his heart ached at how dejected you sounded.

seonghwa shook his head, hugging you tighter and rubbing comforting circles on your back. “i couldn’t sleep.” “i’m sorry for worrying you, i just needed to clear my head.” “y/n,stop apologizing. you did nothing wrong, and the fact that you mustered up the courage to tell us your secret must’ve been hard for you to keep.” you sniffled and buried your face in the crook of his neck, letting out a shaky breath. “it was, but i didn’t want to keep lying to everyone. none of you deserve to be lied to, not after all you all have done for me.”

“darling, please, none of what you did is your fault. it’s that godsdamn jerk hades. and never feel afraid to come to any of us for comfort, we are always here for you, ok? and don’t keep secrets from us again.” seonghwa felt you nod weakly, and allowed himself a small smile. “good. now, let’s get back inside before you freeze to death.” you chuckled, despite yourself. “hwa, it’s not even cold.” “don’t you dare argue with me, young lady.” seonghwa scolded lightheartedly. you rolled your eyes, glad he couldn’t see it as he scooped you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style. “yes, father.” that earned you a playful glare. “i am not that old, you know!” you laughed, reaching up and ruffling seonghwa’s hair affectionately. “whatever you say, old man.”

you woke up the next morning to find yunho practically wrapped around you, his soft black hair tickling your cheek, and you smiled fondly, remembering all the nights you spent as kids curled up next to the muses you had come to call family, feeling safe and secure. the early morning sun cast beams of light across the floor of the small cottage, bathing it in gold.

you slowly and carefully extricated yourself from yunho’s grip and headed outside to see if seonghwa needed help with tending to the garden. said male would wake up before everyone to tend to every plant and flower that occupied it, and you felt that helping seonghwa was the least you could to do to thank him for comforting you last night.

sure enough, seonghwa was bent over a bed of roses, golden eyes searching for any deformities. “hwa!” you called, and the former’s expression lit up, a fond smile tugging at his lips, waving you over. “how are the roses doing?” you asked, admiring how the pink rose petals stood out against the dark soil. “they’re alright, despite this weather.” you hummed thoughtfully, reaching out and lightly touching the rose petals, velvet soft against your skin. “thank you.” “for what?” seonghwa asked, moving on to another cluster of flowers, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. “for last night. for comforting me.” the love muse’s expression went soft, golden eyes glimmering with unshed tears. “no need to thank me, darling. you’ve been through so much, and you deserve to have comfort. besides, we’re practically family, and we’re all supposed to there for each other, no matter what.”

you smiled, reaching out and taking seonghwa’s hand in yours, squeezing gently. “do you need help with the flowers?” the former shook his head, black hair falling across his forehead. “well, is there anything i can do?” seonghwa smiled. “you can help me by waking the others up.” you groaned, knowing how difficult that was. “that’s going to take centuries, hwa!” “well, the flowers aren’t going to tend to themselves.” “aren’t you the muse of love poetry?” “yeah, and what about it? i am perfectly capable of taking care of nature.” you laughed, reaching out and ruffling seonghwa’s hair affectionately. “of course you are. now, if you’ll excuse me, i need to go wake up our little band of gremlins.” seonghwa chuckled softly as you turned and skipped towards the cottage, your heart seemingly lighter than before.

it had taken nearly forty five minutes to wake everyone up, save hongjoong, who had actually gotten up as soon as you had gently shaken his shoulder. the others had been a bit more difficult, especially jongho and yeosang, who were notorious for sleeping in late.

another twenty minutes later, breakfast was served, and it had been fruit, a few vegetables, bread, and cheese that seonghwa had managed to snag from the local market earlier that morning. then, yunho suggested that they lay out underneath the huge tree that took up a portion of the garden, of which everyone had agreed to, to your surprise.

“when are you going to be done sulking?” “not sulking.” mingi mumbled, leaning against the tree he’d been sitting under for the past few hours, the bark rough against his back. maddox scoffed. “yeah, and i’m a descendant of zeus. you’re not fooling anyone, kid.” mingi sighed. “i just-” “missing her already?” he felt his face burn. “s-shut up.” “there’s no need to be embarrassed, you know. i know i tease, but i genuinely want to see you happy, you deserve it.”

“what if she doesn’t feel the same?” mingi mumbled, blush deepening. he felt silly, pining after a girl he barely knew, but you were unlike anyone he had met. he heard maddox scoff. “please, that girl cannot fool anyone, even with her tough and stubborn facade.” “even if she liked me, would we even work?” maddox’s expression softened just a fraction, and he moved forward, placing a gentle hand on mingi’s shoulder, as if in comfort. “that’s something you’ll have to figure out yourself, kid.” mingi huffed. “that’s what i’ve been trying to do.” “give it time, it’ll come to you eventually.”

mingi’s mind was still heavy with conflict as he walked along a long dirt path that would lead him to the cottage he resided in. even though he had been offered nicer accommodation in the city, mingi preferred to live in a more secluded area and one that was closer to nature. the late evening air was crisp and clean as he ventured further down the path, mind constantly wandering. his conversation with maddox earlier that day had done little to soothe his anxiety. mingi was so lost in thought that he bumped into someone. “i’m so sorry i-” mingi felt his mouth suddenly go dry, as if he’d swallowed sandpaper.

“wonder boy?” you asked, leaning back against a tree, keeping your expression as nonchalant as possible. even in the darkness, you could still make out the blush that was forming on mingi’s face. in the soft glow of the moon, mingi looked as gorgeous as ever, and you ignored the slight ache in your heart at the sight of him. “h-hi.” he stammered.. “what brings you out here at this time of night?” “just passing through.” “ it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, hasn’t it?”

“i’ve been busy.” mingi mumbled, running a hand through his already messy hair. you frowned at the slight annoyance in his tone, but didn’t think anything of it. “farewell, mingi.” you muttered, pushing off the tree with your elbow and walking away, not bothering to look back.

“everything ok?” yunho asked, light green eyes filled with worry. you sighed, leaning your head on the tall male’s shoulder, shaking your head slightly. immediately, an arm wrapped around your shoulders, squeezing gently. “what happened?” “it’s pathetic.” “just tell me.” “fine. on my way here, i bumped into mingi, quite literally, at that.” “and?” what happened that has you so sad?” “do we need to beat someone up?” an amused smile tugged at the corner of your lips, and you laughed. “well, let me finish telling you and then i’ll let you and the others decide.”

“what did he do?” “well, he seemed different.” “different how?” “i don’t know, it’s just the way he talked to me. he sounded kind of annoyed?” you felt yunho tense a little, the grip on your shoulders a little firmer, and you reached down and laced your fingers with his, squeezing gently. “i’m sure he was just having a bad day. don’t kill him, please. i can’t have you or the others being thrown into prison for beating someone up.” yunho huffed. “fine, but if he hurts you, i’ll get san to break his legs.” you laughed, snuggling deeper into the tall male’s side. “i’ll keep that in mind, then.”

you tried not to laugh at the way seonghwa and jongho’s jaws clenched as you told them about what happened between you and mingi earlier that night. “i’ll kill him.” “no killing anyone, please. it’s not that big of a deal, he was probably having a bad day, everyone does.” “ok, but he didn’t have to take it out on you.” “yes, but-” “next time you see mingi, tell him that i will not hesitate to break his legs if he hurts you again.” “he won’t, i promise. like i said, he was probably having a bad day.” san huffed. “let him know.” “ok, ok, i will.”

“enough about my love life.” “so you’re admitting you have one?” yunho asked, light green eyes twinkling with mirth. “s-shut up, i do not.” wooyoung snorted, plopping down next to san, who rolled his eyes in amusement as the former laid his head on his shoulder. “you totally do, darling.” “not you too, hwa.” “sorry, but i have to agree with wooyoung.” you groaned, throwing yourself down onto the grass, laying your head in hongjoong’s lap, who just chuckled and ran a hand through your hair. “tough day?” “s-shut up, i’ve had enough bullying for one day.”

(the next day)

“i messed up.” mingi mumbled, plopping down on the soft grass next to maddox, who only sighed in response. “what did you do this time?” “i might’ve lashed out.” “lovers’ quarrel?” “would you quit that? no, it wasn’t that, i just- i don’t know, i guess i was so conflicted about my feelings that i took my anger out on her. what do i do?” “apologize.” “i-it’s not that easy, you know.” though mingi wasn’t looking in his direction, he could tell that his mentor was rolling in his eyes in exasperation. “it is, actually, you just walk up to her, say you’re sorry, and then you two live happily ever after for the rest of your days.”

mingi frowned. “i’m serious.” “i am too. look, kid, if you’re not going to apologize, then i’ll do it for you.” “please don’t.” “i will if you would stop being a coward.” “i-i’m not a coward, she just makes me nervous, that’s all.” “i know it’s difficult, but if you don’t tell her how you feel soon, she might move on and find someone else.” “y-yeah, like who?” maddox shrugged. “i don’t know, maybe one of those muses she always hangs around.” “what? what muses?” “the muses? you seriously don’t know them?” “i-i do, i just have never seen them.” “well, she’s always around them, and they’re all pretty handsome, so i suggest you hurry up and profess your love or whatever before one of them steal her away.”

“they could probably treat her better than me anyways.” he mumbled, which earned him an elbow to the ribs. “what was that for?” “would you quit being so pitiful? you never know until you try, and besides, i think she might feel the same.” “doubt it, but fine, i’ll try.” maddox grinned, reaching out and patting his shoulder gently. “that’s the spirit, kid.”

the late afternoon sun bathed the forest in light as mingi leaned against a tree, ignoring how the rough bark dug into his back. his heart leaped in his chest as he heard soft footsteps approaching, and felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight of you. you were a vision in light pink robes that complimented your skin, dark hair framing your face perfectly. “hi wonderboy.” you called out, and mingi felt his face flush at the mere sound of your voice.

“h-hi.” “why did you want to see me?” “i wanted to apologize for how i acted the other day. i wasn’t feeling the greatest, and i took my annoyance out on you.” “it’s fine, don’t worry about it. although, my friends were quite worried and threatened to beat you up.” mingi winced. you laughed softly. “don’t worry. my friends are harmless even though they act like they aren’t sometimes.” “so, i’m forgiven, then?” “mingi, you were forgiven the moment you sent a scroll asking to talk to me.” you shrugged. “besides, i wasn’t offended, i just figured you were having a bad day, like you said.”

mingi allowed himself a smile, and felt his pulse race when you returned it.

“so, how’d it go with mingi?” wooyoung asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. seonghwa rolled his eyes and smacked the former lightly on the shoulder. “will you quit that?” the blond male only huffed in protest, but the curious glint never left his eyes. “what’s there to tell? he apologized, and that was it.” “seriously? no passionate kiss in the forest? no getting pressed up against a tree and making out? nothing? not even a kiss on the cheek? you two are so lame.” wooyoung sighed, dramatically falling into yeosang’s lap, who rolled his eyes in response.

“jung wooyoung, if you don’t shut up right now, i will not hesitate to-” “yeah, yeah, i know, throw me into the depths of the underworld.” “exactly.” “it’s what you deserve, honestly.” yeosang mumbled, but made no move to shove the aforementioned muse off his lap. “yeosang! i thought we were friends.” “if you call barely tolerating you on a daily basis, then yes.”

you laughed in amusement at their incessant bickering. “yeosang, stop being so harsh on wooyoung. he’s sensitive, you know.” “i am not!” the dance muse protested. hongjoong scoffed, not looking up from the elaborate flower crown he was making, rolling his eyes. “says the guy who wouldn’t stop sulking after san ignored him for a whole day because he accidentally spilled wine on his brand new toga.” “it was a whole week, and it hurt!”

san sighed. “why am i friends with this idiot?” “because you love me.” “believe what you want, wooyoung.” jongho rolled his eyes. “hongjoong hyung!” said muse looked up from his now finished flower crown, carefully placing it on his head, hazel eyes widening in suprise. “yes, jongho?” “c-could you help me with this verse for a hymn? i’ve been stuck on it for days.”

hongjoong’s face broke out into a wide smile, eyes turning into crescents, then flung himself at seonghwa, who stumbled a bit from the sudden attack, but recovered and wrapped his arms around the former, holding him tight. “what’s wrong, joong?” he asked, voice as gentle as ever, but the amused smile tugging at his lips was obvious. “j-jongho finally asked me to h-help him.” hongjoong wailed, burying his face into seonghwa’s chest, soft sobs wracking his body. seonghwa bit back a laugh as he patted hongjoong’s head gently.

“are those tears of joy? or?” you laughed, reaching out and patting jongho’s shoulder gently. “definitely tears of joy. he’s been waiting for this moment for a millennia.” “finally, i’ve been spared!” yeosang cried out happily. jongho huffed. “i hate you.” yeosang only beamed. “love you too!” you rolled your eyes at their bickering. “have fun writing with hongjoong, he’s really been waiting for this day for ages.” jongho sighed. “i know. he wouldn’t stop whining to seonghwa hyung about it.” “yeah, i know, he’s also complained to me too.” “jongho! hurry up!” hongjoong called.

you laughed at the embarrassment on jongho’s face as he mumbled his goodbyes and ran over to hongjoong, both of them disappearing behind an alcove of trees seconds later. “he must be really happy, huh?” “yeah, he is.”

“how are things with mingi?” seonghwa inquired once everyone was distracted with the field of flowers a few feet away, marveling at the colorful petals. “honestly? i’m not sure. we’re not lovers, after all. i don’t even know if we’re friends. i guess we’re just acquaintances?” seonghwa rolled his eyes. “so, you’re telling me that after all the encounters you’ve had with each other that your relationship with him is still unknown?”

you smiled sheepishly. “i-i guess?” the silver haired male sighed in exasperation. “you two are giving me a headache.” you laughed, leaning against seonghwa’s side, resting your head on his shoulder. the aforementioned muse immediately wrapped an arm around you. “but you love me.” “yeah, yeah.” you smiled, snuggling deeper into seonghwa’s warmth and allowing a comfortable silence to settle between the two of you.

“mingi better not break her heart, or i will personally throw him into the depths of the underworld.” wooyoung muttered, breaking off a petal of the rose he had in his hand, letting it gently float in the wind before settling peacefully in the grass around him. “stop destroying nature, would you?” san scolded, snatching the rose out of wooyoung’s hand, earning a squawk of protest from the latter. “while i agree with you, woo, i don’t think we should just charge at him like a minotaur gone truly mad.” “then, what do you think we should do, oh wise one?”

“we should just talk to him, peacefully and without violence?” wooyoung scoffed. “that’s a terrible idea. do you want her heart to be broken?” “of course not, it’s just- he’s stronger than all of us, there’s no way any of us could take him in a real fight.” “yunho’s right, we’re all as thin as wheat and can’t lift anything remotely heavy.” “that’s not true! we’re not that weak!” yeosang rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue.

“why are we discussing murder?” a voice cut in, interrupting their conversation. yunho turned and saw seonghwa standing at the entrance of the garden, lean arms crossed over his chest, golden eyes twinkling with amusement. you were beside him, looking as equally amused as the former. “we’re not discussing murder, we’re just-” san slapped a hand over wooyoung’s mouth before he could continue, smiling nervously, ignoring how the latter squirmed, mumbling something incoherent. “we were discussing just how much of a great person you are, hyung.”

seonghwa bit back a laugh. “is that so?” “yes, of course! we would never think of murdering anyone! we’re too innocent and pure to commit such a wicked act!” unlike seonghwa, you laughed, the sound ringing in the air. “you are all so dramatic.” “ i honestly don’t know why i’m still hanging around you all.” “that’s because you have no other friends than us, yeosang.” wooyoung chirped, earning him a glare from the comedy muse.

“please don’t start fights, especially with mingi. i don’t want to see any of you hurt.” wooyoung beamed, throwing himself onto seonghwa, hugging him tightly. “so you do love us, hyung!” the older rolled his eyes. “no, i’m just tired of you all being a pain in my ass all the time. so please save me the trouble and not try to kill anyone, ok?” san pouted. “you’re so cruel, hyung!” “believe what you want, san.” “anyways, do you know when hongjoong and jongho will be back? they need to help out with supper later.” “well, they’re probably going to be done, at least, hopefully, before the sun sets.” “ok, then i’ll just go gather the vegetables and fruit.”

“hwa, i might need some help, that is, if you’re willing to.” seonghwa smiled, expression soft and gentle. “of course, i’d be happy to.” as soon as they were out of earshot, wooyoung leaned forward, making sure to keep his voice as low as possible.

“is it just me, or is seonghwa hyung in love?” yeosang rolled his eyes, smacking the blond haired muse on the shoulder. “quit being delusional, seonghwa hyung’s always looked at her like that, we all do, you know. he cares about her just like he does the rest of us. besides, even if seonghwa hyung felt any sort of romantic way about y/n, she wouldn’t return his feelings and he’d get heartbroken.” “you never know! she could just be trying to use mingi as a distraction to get her mind off of him.” “you’re by far the dumbest person i know, woo.” “i know what i saw, yeosang!” “then prove it.” “what?” “if you can prove to me that seonghwa hyung really has feelings for y/n that are far from platonic, then i will not pick on you for a whole year.” wooyoung’s eyes brightened with determination. “you will eat your words soon, sangie.” “can’t wait.”

mingi softly hummed to himself as he walked through the forest, admiring how the sun shone through the leaves, bathing it in golden beams of light. his last meeting with you had gone well, better than he expected. “daydreaming about going on picnic dates with your girlfriend?” “no, and she’s not my girlfriend.” “sure, sure, keep lying to yourself.” “why are you even here? aren’t you supposed to be, i don’t know, doing important things?”

maddox scoffed. “please, as if the officials need me for anything.” his mentor made subsequent trips to the heart of the city, where the council presided, looking over and approving laws. a comfortable silence settled around them as they continued on through the forest.

suddenly, they heard laughter from a few feet away. and before mingi could say anything, maddox grabbed his wrist and pulled him in the direction of said laughter. “what are you doing?” “you’re not curious where the laughter is coming from?” “not really-” he was cut off a few seconds later when maddox suddenly stopped in his tracks. “what’s wrong?”

“kid, i’m sorry.” “about what?” he ignored maddox as he tried to prevent him from going past. mingi froze when he saw what maddox had been trying to prevent him from seeing. it was you, looking as beautiful as ever in a dark blue toga, holding a basket full of vegetables and fruit. but you were not alone. a tall male with silver hair, dressed in a white toga, an impossibly soft smile on his face, stood next to you. then, said male took the basket from you, pulling you into his side and wrapping a slender arm around your waist.

mingi waited for you to push him away, which otherwise never occurred. then, what came next felt as if his heart was going to be ripped out of his chest. you smiled and leaned into the male’s embrace, resting your head on his shoulder. he had had enough. mingi fought back tears as he ran away, ignoring maddox calling his name in the distance.

“calm down!” maddox shouted, gripping mingi’s shoulders tightly. “why should i? after what i saw?” “you know, there’s such a thing as jumping to conclusions, which is exactly what you’re doing right now! and even if that guy was her lover, what does it matter to you? you’re not together anyway, right?” “i’m fully aware of that, but it still hurts just as much. i need to be alone.” mingi mumbled, trying to keep his voice as even as possible. as soon as the grip on his shoulder loosened, he ran off into the forest, vision blurring.

dinner consisted of fruit and vegetables, along with a few quail eggs that seonghwa had managed to pick up at the market earlier that day. the early evening air was cool and crisp, and there was a light breeze that caused the leaves to sway gently.

“were you able to write the hymn?” jongho nodded as he popped a strawberry into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “it wasn’t easy, but it is finished.” seonghwa smiled fondly, reaching out and ruffling the younger’s hair affectionately. “i’m glad.” “did you spend time with y/n today?” wooyoung blurted, light blue eyes glimmering with anticipation, “yes, yes i did. we gathered the fruits and vegetables for supper. why?” “no reason hyung, just curious.” he mumbled, taking a sip of wine. seonghwa’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but he didn’t press further. yeosang pursed his lips tightly and looked away, trying to will himself to disappear. the former shrugged and merely got up and walked away to the center of the garden.

once he was out of earshot, yeosang elbowed wooyoung in the side, causing the latter to cry out in protest. “what was that for?” “could you be any more obvious?” “what are you talking about? i was very subtle!” yeosang rolled his eyes. “you were not.” “do you really think seonghwa hyung doesn’t have any sort of romantic feelings towards y/n?” “i really do.” “i will prove you wrong, just you wait!” “i’ll be waiting for the day when you do.”

you sat underneath a tree with seonghwa, curled up into his side, resting your head on his shoulder. the night sky was glittering with stars, bathing the garden in soft white light. “do you think my relationship with mingi will become something more?” “i can’t give you a sure answer, but i think if you allow a space for him in your heart, then maybe something will happen.”

“when did you get so…” “cheesy? romantic? well, i am the muse of love poetry, in case you forgot.” “right, you write cheesy poems for a living.” “my poems are masterpieces, just so you know.” “i apologize, oh humble one. i did not mean to slander your poems, which a truly a gift to mankind.” “stop feeding my ego.” you laughed, snuggling deeper into seonghwa’s side. “ok, ok, i’ll stop.”

“this is going to sound very cliche and cheesy-” “darling, please, i write romantic poems for a living. try me.” “i just- i’m grateful.” “for what?” “for not neglecting me. for taking care of me when i had no one else, and for giving me a home when my parents left me all alone, defenseless and starving.” you hadn’t realized you were crying until seonghwa pulled you into a warm and tight embrace, rubbing comforting circles on your back. “let it out, it’s okay.” “i’m sorry for breaking down like this, but-” “don’t apologize, darling. we are always here for you, and it’s perfectly okay to have an off day, we’ve all been there.” “i just-” “you don’t need to explain yourself, you never do. just promise me you won’t hide your pain from us? we hate to see you so sad.”

you nodded, leaning further into seonghwa’s embrace, burying your face in the crook of his neck, the scent of roses filling your senses. the smell was comforting, and you felt your eyelids droop, and you let sleep take over.

seonghwa smiled fondly at the sleeping girl in his arms, looking peaceful and at ease. he brushed a stray strand of hair off your forehead, tucking it gently behind your ear. the night was cool and crisp and tame, just how seonghwa preferred it to be. “hyung?” a quiet voice said behind him. he turned around, careful not to wake you, and saw yeosang standing behind him.

“yeosang? what is it? is something wrong?” san hesitated as he saw the immediate concern on seonghwa’s face. “i- i just wanted to see if y/n’s alright.” “she’s fine, just tired. why?” “ah, no reason, just curious.” “san, are you ok? you’re acting a bit strange.” “i’m alright, just tired. wooyoung ‘s been a pain in my ass all day.” seonghwa chuckled at that. “perfectly understandable. wooyoung can be quite the handful sometimes.”

yeosang gave the older an awkward wave, trying not to run away in embarrassment across the grass. as soon as he plopped down next to wooyoung, said male turned to him anticipation. “so, what did you see?” “she was asleep in seonghwa hyung’s arms; they were practically cuddling.” wooyoung clapped excitedly, and yeosang smacked him on the shoulder. “cut that out. just because i caught them cuddling doesn’t prove anything. she’s fallen asleep on all of us at some point.” “was she on his lap?” “what in tarturus? no, of course not.” “she was curled up in his arms, that’s all.”

“are you seriously still convinced that seonghwa hyung doesn’t pine for her?” yeosang sighed. “look, wooyoung, you should really just give up on this, i mean, don’t you think trying to prove something that you know isn’t true a waste of time?” “it may be to you, but not to me! he loves her, i’m sure of it!” “just don’t go overboard, ok?” “i won’t, i swear on the river styx.” “i sense empty promises, but fine.”

mingi sat on the edge of a ravine, feet dangling dangerously in the air, dried tears on his cheeks. he didn’t know when the crying had stopped, nor did he know how he ended up at the very edge of the forest. maddox was standing a few feet away, giving him space, which mingi was grateful for. his mind was swimming with thoughts and his heart ached.

he felt pathetic, for even thinking that someone like him had a chance with you. you looked happy, happier than he had ever seen you. there was a part of him that was happy that you were being cherished, for it was what you truly deserved. i was foolish to think that she ever showed any interest in me as a lover, mingi thought glumly, fighting back another deluge of tears.

he heard soft footsteps behind him and a few seconds later, a warm and gentle hand was on his shoulder. mingi sighed. “are you going to give me a lecture about how much of a fool i am?” “of course not, and you’re anything but a fool.” he let out a bitter, sad laugh. “how would you know that?” “because i’ve been your mentor for years, and while you were a bit clumsy at first, you persisted.” “what are you trying to say?” “i’m trying to tell you that you shouldn’t give up! so what if she has a potential suitor? make her see what she’s missing!” “you want me to make her jealous?” “exactly! then she’ll realize just how much of a great hero and guy you are, and then she’ll practically beg for you to be her lover.” mingi shook his head. “there’s no way in tarturus i’m doing that.” “why not?!” “i don’t want to make anger her for my personal gain, it’s not right.”

“ok, then, what do you think you should do?” “you saw her! she looks happy, and i don’t want to ruin that for her. i should try to move on.” maddox sighed. “do you even know who she was with?” “n-no? should i know him?” “do you remember when i mentioned the muses?” “vaguely.” his mentor rolled his eyes. “anyway, the guy you saw her with was one of the nine muses.” “w-what? how did you know?” “i thought it was pretty clear.” “how can you-” “centuries ago, they attended one of the council meetings. the muse you saw her with was the one who did most of the talking.” “i thought muses didn’t involve themselves with the council.” “they don’t, but maybe they had a reason to.”

“that doesn’t mean anything, he could be her lover.” “believe what you want, kid. i’m not going to attempt to convince you otherwise. just don’t sulk about it too much.” with that, maddox walked away, leaving him with his thoughts and a heavy heart.

“are you close with seonghwa hyung?” you laughed, carefully rolling up another scroll and placing it back on the massive shelf in front of you. “what do you mean, woo? i’m close with all of you.” “i know that, but-” “but?” “never mind.” wooyoung mumbled, plopping down on a nearby chair, lips forming a visible pout. you sighed in exasperation, walking over to said sulking male, ruffling his hair affectionately. “what’s wrong, woo?” “nothing, i’m just tired from yesterday evening, i suppose.” “oh, well, why did you come along with me, then? you didn’t have to, i know reading scrolls can be quite a bore.” “i didn’t want to leave you all alone. if something happened to you, seonghwa hyung would have my head.” you smiled, pulling the dance muse into a tight embrace. “wooyoung, that’s very sweet of you, but you know i can handle myself.”

“i know, but if hades-” “he hasn’t come after me yet, and i doubt he will soon. even if he does, he won’t hurt me, at least, not enough to kill me.” “y/n! don’t say that! we wouldn’t be able to live with ourselves if something happened to you.” you felt your heart ache and hugged wooyoung tighter. “i’m sorry for saying that, i just-” “it’s ok, y/n. just promise me that you’ll let us protect you?” you nodded. “i will, i promise.”

“what do you think of y/n?” yeosang asked, quite abruptly at that, and seonghwa felt his eyes widen in shock at the sudden bluntness. “i don’t quite understand the question, yeosang, i-” “just answer it.” “ok, ok, uhm, well, she’s….” the former gestured for seonghwa to continue. “she’s wonderful. she’s very caring, loving, and is very selfless. y/n is always there for us, always.”

yeosang felt guilt rising in his stomach. he hated lying to seonghwa, especially after he now knew that wooyoung was completely wrong about how the older felt about y/n. at least, it was clear to him that she was nothing more than a dear friend, a sister, even. “are you alright?” yeosang snapped out of his thoughts, giving a worried seonghwa a half smile that he hoped was convincing enough. “i’m fine, just exhausted.”

seonghwa’s golden eyes narrowed in suspicion, but he didn’t press further. “i have to go help y/n with something, i’ll see you in the evening?” yeosang managed a brief nod before the former walked off. he sighed, leaning back on the rough bark of a tree behind him. things were definitely going to get even more complicated, and yeosang wasn’t looking forward to it in the slightest.

“don’t you think wooyoung and yeosang are being a little... “ “strange?” “i suppose? wooyoung asked me if i’m close to you.” seonghwa raised an amused eyebrow, carefully rolling up a scroll. “close in what way?” suprisingly, you felt your cheeks flush scarlet. “i-” “as lovers?” “y-yes.”

“ah, well, that is quite amusing.” “is it?” seonghwa nodded, golden eyes twinkling with mirth. “you are not angry?” “why would i be angry? any man would be lucky to have you.” “thank you, hwa.” his expression softened, if that was even possible. you smiled, carefully pulling another scroll from the shelf. “i’ve always loved coming here.” “i know. whenever we visited the town, you would beg us to take you to the library so you could read scrolls.” you blushed. “that must’ve been quite irritating.” seonghwa shook his head. “not at all, it was quite endearing.”

“i’ve always loved stories, even as a child. though i don’t remember much about my parents, i know they always told me them to help me sleep. that is, before they abandoned me.” you didn’t even realize you were crying until strong arms were around you, pulling you into a comforting and tight embrace. “i’m sorry, i don’t know why i’m being so emotional all the time. you must think i’m being dramatic.” seonghwa scoffed. “you are not. i’m the one who should be asking for your forgiveness.” “hwa-” “hear me out, ok? i was the one who suggested we come here, and that was a terrible thing to do, because it surfaced tragic memories of your past. i’m so sorry, darling, i should’ve been more considerate-” “hwa, listen to me. it was not your fault. you didn’t know, and besides, i think it’s important for me to bring the painful memories to light instead of dwelling on them. i’ve been resenting my parents for centuries, and i think it’s time i start trying to forgive them.” seonghwa’s expression softened, as it always seemed to whenever he looked at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “if you need any assistance, i’m here for you, and so are the others.” “i know, thank you, hwa. i really don’t know what i would do without any of you in my life.” “that was extremely cliché, but i’ll let it slide because the feeling is mutual.” “you’re the absolute worst, you know that?” seonghwa laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners. i know, but you love me.” “correction, i tolerate you, there’s a difference.” that earned you a light shove to the shoulder, and you couldn’t help but throw your head back and laugh, feeling lighter than you had been in centuries.

“wooyoung, i really think we should put an end to our bet, i mean, there’s no point anymore.” “why? did seonghwa hyung tell you something? or did you tell him about it?” yeosang sighed in frustration. “i didn’t tell him anything, i just really think it would be best to stop.” wooyoung huffed. “how can you be so sure?” “i just- look, i really don’t think seonghwa hyung loves y/n in a romantic way.” “suit yourself, yeosang, i’m going to prove it.” “do what you want.”

“kid, are you even listening to me?” maddox’s worried voice snapped mingi out of the trance he’d been under, bringing him back to reality. the former sighed. “let’s take a break.” mingi nodded, carefully putting the bow and arrow he’d been holding off to the side, plopping down onto the soft grass beneath him, the blades tickling his bare legs. “are you alright?” maddox asked, his voice unusually soft, as if mingi were a fawn that would run away the instant it heard a loud noise. mingi didn’t reply, just shook his head softly and hugged his knees to his chest, somehow managing to look small and almost vulnerable, despite his bulk.

maddox sighed, settling down beside him on the grass. “i know that sulking over unrequited love is trivial and a little pathetic of me-” “it’s not pathetic. you’re heartbroken, and it’s okay to sulk.” mingi managed a small, grateful smile. “thank you.” “i’ve never felt this way about anyone, and i know that’s cliché, but it’s true. she’s the only girl who doesn’t fawn over me like everyone else, she doesn’t even know about my being a hero or slaying monsters!” “she knows you as mingi, not mingi the hero.” “yes, and that simple fact makes it hurt even more.”

mingi didn’t even realize he was crying until he felt a comforting hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “it’s okay, kid, let it out. i’m sorry for pushing you too hard to train. i didn’t realize you were still grieving.” “stop making it sound as if i’m mourning the loss of a loved one.” mingi scolded, but it was light-hearted.

“i’ll be okay, i just need time.” “take all the time you need, i’ll be here for you if you ever need a shoulder to cry on.” “thank you.” “i’ll likely forget about her, so don’t get your hopes up.” maddox grimaced. he knew that mingi would most definitely not do such a thing, and that he would sulk about her for gods knew how long. i just hope he doesn’t completely fall apart, maddox thought, fighting back tears.

seonghwa hummed softly to himself as he admired the deep purple hyacinths on either side of him, contrasting greatly with the forest green of the grass. the day was perfect, with a light, refreshing breeze tugging at his hair and toga, ruffling the leaves and branches of trees, the sky cloudless and blue, and the sun shining golden beams of light upon the earth. the air was just the right temperature, and seonghwa absolutely adored days like these.

wooyoung, jongho, yeosang, and san had all gone to the town marketplace to find food for supper, and you and hongjoong were in the center of the garden, weaving flower crowns, which left seonghwa by himself for a bit. not that he minded, of course, seonghwa secretly enjoyed it when he got some time for himself, so he can be alone with his thoughts.

while he loved his fellow muses dearly, it could get overwhelming to be around them at times. seonghwa never took the moments he got to himself for granted, for they were rare. seonghwa was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice you settling down on the grass beside him, a hand woven crown of roses on your head. “hwa?” you asked, which made him jump in surprise. “when did you get here?” “about a few seconds ago, why?” “no reason, just, you scared me, is all.” you smiled in amusement. “you’re always so easily startled, huh?” seonghwa felt his face flush scarlet. “weren’t you with hongjoong?” “i was, but he insisted i keep you company.” “i hope i’m not bothering you, you seemed like you wanted to be alone for a while.”

seonghwa nodded sheepishly. “well, one part of that is true.” “which one?” “the second, because you could never bother me.” that earned him a light shove to the shoulder. “when did you get so cheesy?” “i’m the muse of love poetry, cheesy is all i know how to write.” you laughed, and seonghwa ignored the way his heart sped up a bit at the sound. “what were you thinking about?” “you don’t have to tell me, of course, only if you’re willing.” “it’s okay, i wasn’t thinking about anything in particular, actually.” “just daydreaming then?” seonghwa smiled. “perhaps.”

you returned his smile, eyes crinkling at the corners, and the sight made seonghwa’s heart clench painfully. he felt his pulse race as you moved closer to him and laid your head on his shoulder, all the while making sure not to crumple your flower crown. you’d done this many times before, but it never failed to make seonghwa’s heart race. he knew it was pathetic and silly to harbor feelings for someone who would never return them, but he couldn’t help it.

you were kind, loving, the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen, and whenever you looked at him, it felt like a punch to the gut. he loved the way your expression would brighten when visiting the town library, looking at various scrolls. most off all, he loved how selfless you were, and that you would do anything for the ones you loved.

while it was extremely painful to see you long for someone else, you were at least happy, and that was all that mattered to seonghwa. you deserved someone who would cherish you for the rest of your life, and who would never hurt you.

seonghwa ignored the shiver that ran down his spine as you snuggled closer into his side. as if on impulse, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, your bare skin warm against his own, and held you tight. “are you alright?” “yes, just a bit exhausted. is it okay if i take a short nap?” “go ahead, i’ll wake you once it’s time for supper.” you shot him a grateful smile, and seconds later, you were fast asleep. seonghwa sighed heavily, resisting the urge to hide his face in his hands to hide the blush that was forming on his face. i need to get ahold of myself, seonghwa thought.

wooyoung hid the smirk that was tugging at his lips as he caught sight of you cuddled up against seonghwa, resting your head on his shoulder. “ what are you doing?” a voice asked, which made wooyoung jump in shock. “san! did you have to sneak up on me like that?” said male rolled his eyes. “i didn’t sneak up on you, you were just too busy staring at seonghwa and y/n that you didn’t notice.” “ are you stalking them or something?” wooyoung huffed in frustration and hit san gently on the shoulder. “i am doing nothing of the sort!” “then, what are you doing?” “i’m observing?” “seriously, woo?” what? just think of it as supervising.” san just sighed in frustration. “you really expect me to believe that? y/n can take care of herself, and seonghwa would rather get thrown into the depths of the underworld than even think of hurting her. what’s the real reason you’re watching them like a creep?” wooyoung sighed. “keep this a secret, okay?” san nodded. though his expression seemed uninterested, his violet eyes were glinting with curiosity. when wooyoung was done explaining, san burst out laughing.

“you think i’m insane, don’t you?” “uh, yeah, i kind of do.” “look, woo, do you really believe that seonghwa hyung is in love with y/n? don’t you think that’s a little… i don’t know, impossible?” “anything is possible, san!” “yes, but not that.” “why? why does everyone think i’m crazy for this?” “wooyoung’s right, san.” they turned and saw hongjoong standing a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest, expression unreadable. “how long have you been standing there?”

hongjoong shrugged. “long enough.” “wait, what? what do you mean i’m right?” “you’re right about seonghwa.” wooyoung let out a small whoop of triumph, while san looked at hongjoong in utter disbelief. “what in tartarus? how do you know that?” “because he told me.” “when?” wooyoung asked, practically beaming. “centuries ago.” “wait, so seonghwa hyung’s liked her for that long?!” hongjoong grimaced. “ah, it’s actually the opposite of that.” “he loves her?!” san blurted, and wooyoung slapped a hand over his mouth. “don’t be so loud! seonghwa hyung’s nearby, he might hear you!” he hissed. “when did you notice?” wooyoung asked, slowly taking his hand off san’s mouth, who glared at him in return. “i thought it was pretty obvious, and honestly, i’m quite surprised no one picked up on it sooner.” “so, when did he tell you?”

“i don’t remember exactly, but i’m pretty sure it was when y/n was in the garden with you guys and seonghwa and i went somewhere to talk in secret. he was extremely anxious.”

(six centuries ago)

hongjoong let out a cry of protest as seonghwa led him into a more secluded part of the garden, anxiety rolling off the latter in waves. the late afternoon sun cast golden beams of light on the soft patches of green grass. the air was crisp and cool, and the weather had never been more perfect. “what’s wrong?” seonghwa hesitated, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“i-i love someone.” hongjoong’s eyes widened. “what?” “i know it’s sudden of me to say something so bold, but i-i know that i love her.” “who is she? do we know her?” seonghwa chuckled, golden eyes shining with an emotion that hongjoong had never seen him express before. “yes, you know her, very well, in fact.” hongjoong furrowed his brows in confusion, thinking about which female in the entirety of athens seonghwa had his heart set on, and suddenly, it clicked. the gentle and soft gazes he’d send your way, the way he’d look at you as if you were the only star in the sky, and the way he handed you a basket of flowers or even a piece of fruit were all telltale signs that seonghwa was irrevocably smitten, and yet hongjoong hadn’t realized it until now.

“i- when did you realize that you loved her?” seonghwa rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, color staining his cheeks. “do you remember that city official that started to insult y/n the day we went to the market?” hongjoong grimaced at the memory. “of course, how could i forget? i was tempted to throw him into the depths of tarturus.” “she defended herself before we could, despite having tears in her eyes. she was so strong, and i admired her for that. i knew that she was not a damsel in distress, and that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, but i’ve always felt i need to protect her, to shield her from harm. isn’t that so selfish of me?” seonghwa asked, laughing bitterly. “it’s not selfish, it just shows how much you love her.”

“i suppose. hongjoong, promise me that this will stay between us?” “of course.” hongjoong said, swallowing against the bile in his throat. the smile that seonghwa sent his way afterwards, bright and hopeful, made his stomach churn with guilt.

“that day was the worst, i was going to kill him if someone didn’t stop me.” san hissed, glaring at hongjoong, who rolled his eyes. “i’m sorry i foiled your plans of vengeance, but seonghwa would’ve killed me if anything happened to any of you.” “seonghwa hyung really is in love with y/n.” wooyoung mumbled, looking dazed, as if he had been in a trance. “yes, he is. now, you two have to promise me that this stays between us. seonghwa cannot know that i told you.”

san pursed his lips tightly. “i hate keeping secrets from him.” “i know, but if finds out that i told you this, he will never forgive me, and i can’t live with myself knowing that i hurt seonghwa.” san looked as if he’d rather jump into the river of souls than agree to it, but just sighed and gave hongjoong a small nod. “fine, but don’t make me regret this.”

hongjoong gave the younger a grateful smile.” thank you, san.” “i’ll also keep this from seonghwa hyung, but it’s not going to be easy.” “i know, just try your hardest not to tell him.” wooyoung also looked as if he were going to object, but managed a miniscule nod. “i just hope that no one gets hurt in the end.” hongjoong felt dread pool in his stomach at the thought of seonghwa looking at him with absolute hatred and sadness in his eyes, and forced what he hoped was a convincing smile on his face. “time will tell.”

after the confrontation with san and wooyoung, hongjoong headed to another secluded part of the garden, feeling dazed. he settled onto a soft patch of grass, stretching his legs and basking in the late afternoon sun. though the weather usually lifted hongjoong’s spirits, today, it did nothing to distract him from the immense guilt he felt. he knew it wasn’t his right to tell seonghwa’s secret, but he had just suddenly gotten the urge to, after overhearing wooyoung and san’s conversation. hongjoong sighed, reaching up and rubbing at his temples. he would be doomed if seonghwa ever came to know that his secret had been disclosed, especially since he’d promised all those centuries ago not to tell anyone.

“joong?” a soft voice said, and hongjoong looked up to see you standing over him, an amused smile on your face. “y/n?” “taking a nap?” you asked, settling down beside him, your sky blue robes bright against the green grass. hongjoong shook his head. “no, just thinking.” “about what? you don’t have to tell me, of course, i’m just curious.” “well, honestly, it wasn’t anything important.” you didn’t look too convinced, but didn’t press further, much to hongjoong’s relief. “can i talk to you about something?” “of course, anything.” hongjoong said, immediately sitting up and moving closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “what’s troubling you?” you sighed, leaning your head on his shoulder. “it’s seonghwa.” “what about him? is he being an asshole?” you laughed softly. “no, of course not. hwa’s one of the sweetest, gentlest, most patient, loving, and selfless people i know. he doesn’t have a mean bone in his body.”

“then, what’s wrong?” “i- is he in pain?” “what do you mean?” “is he pining for a lost love?” hongjoong felt his stomach coil with nerves. “why do you ask?” “i’ve noticed the way he looks at me, almost as if i remind him of someone who hurt him.” no, it’s because seonghwa’s in love with you, but he’s not saying anything because he knows you will not return his feelings, hongjoong thought sadly. “is he hurting because of me? did i do something?” you sounded so sad, so lost, and hongjoong’s heart ached. “no, of course not. seonghwa’s always been one to wander off into his own thoughts and keep his feelings to himself. he doesn’t want us worrying about him. he’s probably just daydreaming or exhausted.” “i suppose.” you murmured, snuggling deeper into hongjoong’s side. hongjoong forced what he hoped was a convincing smile on his face and held you tighter.

mingi loosed a breath as he let an arrow fly, allowing a small smile when it struck the center of the target. the air was warm but not too humid, and he loved when the sun would shine through the trees, bathing the forest in golden light. it was late afternoon, and he had finally gotten out of bed after a while to train. maddox had had business in town, so that left him alone for the day.

mingi sighed and propped his bow against a tree, practically collapsing onto the soft grass. it’d been a long few days, of which were mainly spent crying until his throat and eyes hurt, or until maddox threatened to throw him into the river if he wouldn’t stop sulking. ever since that day, mingi had been trying his best to heal from the heartbreak he experienced. it was a bit pathetic that he was so devastated over a girl that he barely knew, but in some ways, he felt drawn to you. he felt as if there was something that intrigued him about you, but couldn’t quite name the cause. he supposed that as long as you were happy and that you were being treated well, there was nothing he could do. after all, he was a hero, destined to save athens or whatever fairy-tale shit maddox ranted about constantly, and if you were together, you would be in constant danger. mingi knew he couldn’t live with himself if anyone he loved got hurt or killed, and the image of you being stabbed or becoming lifeless in his arms sent a shudder through his body. mingi closed his eyes and let the tears fall, wondering if he would ever get his so-called “happy ending.”

yunho laid next to wooyoung on the worn blanket seonghwa had found lying around the cottage, and looked up at the night sky, stars glittering like precious jewels. the air was crisp and cool, and he allowed a small smile to tug at his lips. yunho turned his head slightly to see you and san sitting on a patch of soft grass, your head resting on his shoulder. “penny for your thoughts?” wooyoung said, snapping yunho back to reality.

he felt his face flush scarlet at the knowing smirk on wooyoung’s face, and swatted at him with his hand, causing the younger to laugh. “i do not feel that way about y/n, if that’s what you’re thinking.” wooyoung rolled his eyes. “i know you don’t, i was just teasing you.” a comfortable silence settled between them, and yunho sighed, turning his attention back to the stars, mind wandering once again.

dinner had been normal, with the occasional light chatter and wooyoung and san bickering over trivial matters, but the aftermath had been quite strange. san had given wooyoung a look that clearly said ”don’t you dare speak another word or i will throw you into the river” , and the latter had whined in protest, but didn’t say anything else after. yunho had looked at them with utter confusion, wondering what in zeus’ name they’d been arguing about, but didn’t bother to ask.

he just hoped that whatever secret they were keeping wouldn’t cause any conflict.

you sighed, snuggling deeper into san’s side for warmth, and said male wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “tired?” he asked. you nodded, resting your head on his shoulder. “did seonghwa nag you too much today?” he asked, voice light and teasing. you rolled your eyes playfully. “no, he didn’t. today was just a long one, that’s all.” san hummed in agreement, squeezing your shoulder gently, as if in comfort. you shifted so that you were now lying on his lap, and he chuckled softly, playing with the loose strands of your hair. “are you really going to use my lap as a pillow?” “yes, is there a problem?” san shook his head. “of course not, you know i was just teasing.” “san?” “hmm?” “thank you.” “for what, love?” “no reason, i’m just glad you’re in my life.” “when did you get so cheesy? you’ve really been spending way too much time with seonghwa hyung.” you flelt your face flush scarlet. “s-shut up, i’m trying to be sentimental and you’re ruining the moment.” san laughed, patting your head gently. “ok, ok, fine.” you soon fell asleep to san humming softly.

san smiled as you slept, absentmindedly playing with the soft strands of your hair, humming a song he’d heard jongho sing once, and leaned back against the rough bark of the eucalyptus tree that took up one side of the garden, letting his mind wander. dinner had been interesting, and he grimaced as he remembered how wooyoung had nearly let seonghwa’s secret come to light. wooyoung needs to be more cautious, otherwise, seonghwa hyung might never forgive hongjoong hyung for telling us his secret.

it was also where he noticed firsthand that seonghwa was irrevocably and utterly in love with y/n, despite knowing that his feelings would never be returned. san didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed before. it was evident in the way seonghwa would look at you, as if you were the only star in the sky, and even a small gesture as handing you a piece of bread from across the table. his fingers always seemed to brush against yours in such an intimate way that san felt himself blush and look away.

san winced as he recalled the conversation with hongjoong and wooyoung earlier that evening, and his heart ached for seonghwa, whose love was unrequited, and for hongjoong, who had succumbed to the pressure of keeping such a secret that he told him and wooyoung.

he felt as if they didn’t deserve to know, for the secret felt so personal to seonghwa, and san knew that he would be devastated if he knew that hongjoong had told them. holding back tears, san closed his eyes and let sleep take over.

mingi woke to maddox gently shaking him, whispering fervently. he sat up immediately, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “what is it? did something happen?” even in the darkness of the cottage, he could make out the pale and ashen color of maddox’s face, and his stomach coiled with fear. his mentor gulped nervously before replying, his voice barely audible. “hades.” “what?” mingi felt blood rushing to his ears, and he felt himself get out of bed, hastily throwing the thin blankets off of him, reaching for his sword, which had been thrown on a pile of old clothes earlier that night. mingi could feel the nervous tension in the air as he loosed a breath and headed out into the cool night, feeling a shiver course through him. maddox was trailing slowly behind him, footsteps quiet and hesitant.

mingi knew it was extremely foolish to confront hades not properly armed, but at least maddox was with him. now, his mentor wasn’t the strongest or the best fighter, but he could at least try and figure out a way for him to escape unscathed, or at least mingi hoped he could.

the air got thicker with tension as mingi ventured deeper into the forest, ignoring the small voice in the back of his mind, screaming at him to run away. mingi knew that hades was close by, as the scent of death and smoke filled his nostrils as he neared a more secluded part of the forest, which, ironically, happened to be near a field of blooming hyacinths. the sight that beheld him made his heart drop down into his stomach and his blood run cold.

you were laying at hades’ feet, pale blue robes streaked with dirt, curled into yourself, as if bracing for an attack that would hopefully never come. mingi ducked behind a tree, hoping it would somehow obscure him from view. “you’re pathetic.” hades hissed, dark eyes flashing with pure disgust. you groaned, neck straining to look up at the god of the dead, expression full of fury and pure hatred. “i thought i made it clear that my relations with you were over.” you seethed, wiping blood from the corner of your mouth. hades laughed, cold and heartless. “you very aware of my conditions when you signed your soul over to me, and one of them was that you will never be free until you fufill my end of our deal. you seemed so willing all those centuries ago, i wonder what changed? is it because you fell in love?” hades sneered, tone dripping with mock cheerfulness.

you said nothing, clenching your jaw in anger and curling your hand into a fist. hades laughed, the sound hollow and void of emotion. “how touching, you fell in love with the very person you were supposed to lead to his own demise. i assume you want me to spare him?”

you glared at the god of the dead, refusing to show any signs of fear, and mingi’s heart ached at the sight. “no, i very well know that you will kill him anyway, for seeing heroes perish brings you great pleasure.” hades clicked his tongue in mock disappointment. “i’m appalled that such a thought would ever cross your mind.” “you’ll spare him, then? if i request it?” hades scoffed. “you’d be foolish to think that i would ever take a request from such a weak and pathetic woman such as yourself.”

mingi felt a hand grip his shoulder tightly, and didn’t try to resist. “kid, if you go out ther now, you’ll die. hades may be a prick, but he’s powerful, and can most likely turn you into ashes before you can even take a single step.” maddox murmured, voice barely audible, but mingi nodded, a sign that he’d heeded his warning, and the grip on his shoulder loosened.

seonghwa felt his heart shatter at the sight of you crumpled on the ground, pale blue robes dirty and blood-stained, helpless and injured. it took every ounce of self-control for him not to run over to you and wrap you into his arms and hold you. he knew that you would never forgive yourself if something happened to him or the others, and that you would continue to blame yourself for their deaths, no matter what. seonghwa bit back tears as he watched hades sneer and curse at you, hands curling into his white robes, the soft fabric bunching in his grip.

the others were fast asleep at the cottage, and that fact alone made seonghwa’s heart settle, just a bit. seonghwa was glad that they weren’t witnessing the horrific scene before him, for he knew that the sight would be too much to bear.

out of the corner of his eye, he noticed mingi, armed with nothing but a sword, clutching it in his hand tightly, and a shorter man with shoulder length hair was with him, body stiff with tension. it was maddox, who he had seen occasionally at council meetings, quiet but not afraid to speak his mind when needed.

seonghwa felt his blood run cold when mingi finally stepped out of the shadows, with maddox trying and failing to prevent him from being reckless, and held his sword out in front of him, the silver blade glinting in the dark.

hades’ dark eyes shifted towards the newcomer, and the smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips was enough to make seonghwa shudder with fear. “look who decided to join us. if it isn’t the hero himself.” “let her go.” mingi hissed, body tight with tension. hades chuckled darkly. “and why would i do that? what could a mere human like you offer me, a god?” “it’s me you want dead, isn’t it?” seonghwa’s heart dropped into his stomach at the naked fear on your face, and clutched the fabric of his robe tighter. don’t be so reckless, seonghwa wanted to scream, but he knew that if he were in mingi’s position, he would’ve done the same, so he forced himself to stay quiet. “i would take pleasure in seeing your untimely demise, such is true, but what would you give me in return?”

seonghwa racked his brain for a list of possible things mingi could offer to the god, and cursed under his breath when he realized that the only thing the latter could give hades was his soul. “i’ll trade you my soul, but only if you agree to break the contract you have with her.”

hades’ dark eyes flashed dangerously. “you do know what selling your soul to me entails?” mingi nodded. in doing so, i enter a state of servitude, until you decide to give me freedom.”

your eyes widened in horror, and seonghwa watched, heart aching, as you struggled to your feet, unable to stop the tears from streaming down your face. “mingi, do not sacrifice your freedom or your soul for me. i don’t deserve to be saved.” “don’t say such things! you’re brave and selfless and-” “i am not! i’ve been working with hades all this time, trying to find out your weakness so that he may kill you! i don’t deserve to be saved or sought after by someone who is righteous and honest and brave. i-” you broke off at the sight of the confused, angry, and devastated expression on mingi’s face. nearby, hades chuckled darkly.

“i’ll leave you two lovebirds alone, it seems you two have many things to discuss.” hades drawled, tone dripping with mock sympathy. with a flick of his hand and a long, tired sigh, the god of the dead disappeared in a cloud of black smoke. mingi turned his head away, closing his eyes, as if the sight of you was too much for him to bear.

“why?” mingi asked in a soft voice, confused and hurt. “i did not want you to find out this way, especially with hades in our presence. i never meant to hurt you, i-”

“you lied to me?” “yes, but i-” “but you what? thought it would be amusing to lead me on? to rip my heart out?” you visibly flinched at the uncharacteristic coldness in mingi’s voice, and seonghwa gulped nervously.

“please, i can explain-” mingi shook his head, grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. “i never want to see you again, and don’t you ever think for one second that i’m going to come to rescue you from whatever danger you might face. you disgust me.” he snapped, voice as cold and hard as steel. you reached out helplessly as mingi turned on his heels and walked away, not bothering to look back, and that’s when seonghwa couldn’t bear to watch any longer.

seonghwa ran out from his hiding place and pulled you into his arms, rubbing comforting circles on his back and whispering soothing words in your ear. “h-hwa. h-he hates me.” you sobbed, curling your fingers in the fabric of his robes. seonghwa could only hold you tight as you cried into his chest, feeling his heart ache even more.

you returned to the cottage with seonghwa carrying you in his arms, your heart heavy and face tear-stained. your robes were filthy and torn, but seonghwa didn’t seem to mind as he had lifted you into his arms almost immediately, insisting on carrying you home. you felt tears prick your eyes at the sight of hongjoong, san, jongho, wooyoung, yeosang, and yunho standing nervously at the front of the cottage.

san practically tripped over his own feet trying to get to you, stroking your hair back softly as his violet eyes scanned your body, looking for any injuries. “we were all so worried when we woke and realized you and seonghwa hyung were gone. we thought you two had been taken, or killed, or-” “san, i’m so sorry. i’m sorry for worrying everyone. i seem to always cause trouble whenever i’m with you, and i always feel as if i’m a burden.”

“you could never be a burden to us, darling, we just hate seeing you get hurt.” yeosang strode right up to seonghwa, caramel eyes bright with anger. “you let her be injured? you watched as she got hurt and verbally harassed by hades? what kind of friend are you?” he asked, a harsh laugh escaping his mouth. before seonghwa could respond, san stepped forward, violet eyes bright with warning, gripping the comedy muse’s shoulder tightly. “that’s enough, yeosang.”

yeosang pursed his lips tightly, shook san’s hand off him, and stormed into the cottage. “i-i’m so sorry y/n, i should’ve done something-” you shook your head, reaching up and cupping seonghwa’s chin gently so he’d look at you. “none of this is your fault, hwa, and give yeosang time to clear his head, i’m sure he’s just angry because i’m hurt and he needs someone to blame.” “i just hope you two don’t resent me.” you scoffed, shifting so that you were a little more comfortable in seonghwa’s arms. “we will not.”

seonghwa smiled gently down at you as he carried you into the cottage, and you let yourself fall into a deep sleep, the ache in your heart subsiding, just a bit.

mingi buried his face into his pillow, soft sobs wracking his body. maddox sat slumped in a chair nearby, his expression grim. “i’m sorry your first love had to end so tragically, kid.” mingi didn’t reply, only cried harder, feeling as if his heart was going to spill out of his chest.

a/n: i hope you all enjoyed this! i know this was super lengthy and probably sucked, but there will be a part three! i’m not sure of the title yet, but i already have a few ideas in mind :) anyways i love you all and thank you for always supporting me and my mediocre fics lmao

#mine #fic series: iwsil #ateez #will post this on my side as well later!#also i know that the banner has my ateez sb url on it just ignore it lkdjflksdj

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wwilloww · 4 years

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athair lusa | pjm

athair lusa, the ground ivy, springing up from the soil with rich, purple flowers and broad green leaves.

Origin: Ireland

Pairing: Jimin x FaePrince!Taehyung

Genre: Folklore. Suspense. Fae!Au.

Rating: NC-17

WC: 2.4k

Summary: “Is it not a strange request,” Jimin says, “to ask me to dance when there is no music?” While on his way to draw water from the well, Jimin slips on a rock. When he stands up again, the world around him seems unrecognizable, as if everything has been dusted with an unfamiliar enchantment.

Warnings: Possessive behavior.

A/N: This story, also known as “The Fairy Dance,” is a story I grew up to, one that was told to me over and over. I consider this to be part of a larger personal project to queer the stories I grew up on. It’s an effort to normalize the presence of queerness in lore and unravel gendered expectations within folktales. Because of this I’ve done my best to stick to the oral telling of this story in both content and style - meaning the writing differentiates itself significantly from my usual style! This project is special to me and I truly hope you enjoy it. I can’t wait to hear what you think of it.

Thank you to @jingabitch for helping me when I felt most stuck with this! Thanks a million to my love @ot7always for editing the image in this banner and listening to me ramble. And of course a hUGE THANKS to the lovely folk in BTS Smut Hub for being my constant inspiration and motivation.

And finally, this is part of @ksmutclub’s Twisted Fairytale collaboration!

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Athair-Lusa.

In a town on the western most coast of the Isle, there lived a young man with hair that shone like the rays of August sun. He was beloved by the townspeople, known for the enchanting melodies that lifted from his lips like birdsong, ensnaring anyone in range. His name was Jimin.

One day in late November, as the night began to draw in, Jimin set down his reading and readied himself to go out into the darkness. He preferred the stillness of sunset and often went out at this time, just to hear the soft hymn of the world slipping slowly into sleep.

Now, it has long been known that the Veil between worlds is thinnest in November. As the remaining veins of summer fade from the land, spirits and creatures of the other worlds come to press up against the thin border between their world and ours. Even nighttime comes to linger, snatching time away from the golden fingers of the sun.

On this night, Jimin decided to take his walk to the well to gather water. He swung his wooden bucket over his shoulder and set off into the darkness. The trees stood tall above him, watching his path. Jimin felt the hair on his neck raise, as if something was watching him from the shadows. However, rather than turning home, he lifted his face to the night sky and sang. The music spilling from his lips split through the darkness of the night, and Jimin felt a sense of peace wash over him.

As the small stone structure of the well came into sight, his foot slipped. He could feel his ankle twisting, and then the feeling of falling through empty space. The air wooshed up around him as he fell.

His back hit the hard earth of the path, crushing the breath out of his lungs. For a moment, Jimin simply lay there, taking deep breaths to calm the fright in his body.

When he lifted his head, his old wooden bucket was nowhere to be seen. Instead of a path hardened by thousands of years of travelers, Jimin lay on a soft field of grass, shimmering emerald green beneath the full moon. Around him, everything seemed as if it had been touched by an enchantment. The trees, whose leaves had dropped a month ago, were now blossoming with flowers of the most brilliant colors. The chill of the winter air was replaced with a soft and warm breeze, lifted off a summer sea. And as he looked up at the sky, the moon hung twice as large, as if she had come down from her high throne in the sky to take a closer look at the goings-on of the people below.

As Jimin sat up, he saw a great crowd gathered a short distance away. As his vision cleared, he realized that they were circled round a fire that danced and leaped and seemed to reach out to the figures surrounding it. As if his mind had been wiped clean of thought, Jimin stood and began to move towards the crowd, mystified by their tall frames and slender figures.

Jimin himself was of average height, his body built like the land. Ready to work, ready to dance. But at this moment in time, Jimin’s body drew him forward towards the beings that stood round the fire, till at last, he stood in the very midst of them.

They held onto their silence, watching his every step. It was at this moment that he thought to be afraid. But as he made to step backward, to step out of their circle, he realized he could not.

Panic began to rise in his throat like bile, setting his muscles alight. Just as he opened his mouth to scream, the crowd around him turned and parted and a handsome young man stepped into view. Jimin’s eyes widened as he took in the figure, who walked like a prince. He wore a red sash, deep as freshly drawn blood. A golden band dressed his long dark hair, shining like the sky on the eve of a new moon.

Jimin’s heart thrummed in his chest as he realized the handsome prince was approaching him. He walked slowly towards him, allowing his eyes to rove over the young man. When he finally reached him, he bowed and extended a hand. An offering.

“Is it not a strange request,” Jimin said, “to ask me to dance when there is no music?”

The prince raised his head from the deep bow and swept his hand into the air. Instantly, the sweetest music carried through the night, surrounding them. He took Jimin’s hand with one of his own, wrapping the other one tightly around his waist. Jimin gasped as his chest was brought to the prince’s, their closeness sending warmth to his cheeks.

"What is your name, dear stranger?" Jimin asked, his brow furrowed. His words seemed to stick in his throat, bewilderment flooding his mind. Such a handsome stranger had never wrapped him up like this before, in such beauty, in such enchantment.

The prince smirked. "You may call me Taehyung."

"Are you a prince of these people?"

"If that is the word you use—then yes."

Jimin opened his mouth to ask more, but the Prince silenced him with a twirl, sending all thought of questioning the strange being before him out of his mind.

They danced until the moon became tired and went to sleep beneath the darkness of the horizon and the stars took their leave from the dance floor. As the prince twirled him round the fire, it seemed as if Jimin was gliding through the air. He had always been known by the townsfolk for his light touch and graceful step. But in the prince’s arms, Jimin’s body felt different. The strain of the movements was eased and he felt boundless energy spring up in his chest beneath the attentive gaze of the prince.

"I have never seen a man dance with your grace," the Prince mused, his gaze falling to Jimin's lips. "Or known one to capture such beauty in his every movement."

Jimin was not used to such flattery. His cheeks were painted with his embarrassment, he ducked his head. The Prince was quick to lift his chin, bringing his face ever-so-close.

“Do you like me, sweet boy?” the Prince asked, tilting his head.

“I do not know you,” Jimin replied, slowly. “How do I know if I like you if I have just met you?”

“There is an eternity to get to know me.” A smirk flashed across the Prince’s sharp features before he pulled Jimin tightly against his tall frame and spun him further into the dance.

Twirling around the fire, it became easy to forget the rest of the world. For that moment, all that existed was the feeling of his feet leaping off the ground, and the low music, and the feeling of being held so tightly by his partner.

Just as Jimin began to feel like time was slipping away from him, the figures around him stilled and the music slowed to a complete halt. The prince still had his arms wrapped around the smaller man, his face pressed close and curious.

"Will you dine with us tonight, dear Jimin?" the prince asked, his voice threaded with sweetness. Jimin's gaze fell to the prince's lips where a small smile played along the pink, plush corner. He wondered when the Prince had learned his name.

Before he could answer, the ground rumbled and split open, a long staircase descending into the darkness of the earth. The prince held out a hand, and hesitating, Jimin took it. Despite the warmth of the tall man's palm, Jimin's skin erupted in goosebumps.

The prince led him down the flight of steps, the rest of the dancers following silently behind. It seemed as if the stairs might never end, the rock around them becoming darker and warmer as they descended. After an unspeakable time, the steps widened and a great hall appeared before them, lit by thin candles that stood as tall as Jimin. As he looked up at the ceiling of the hall, he realized there was no roof, despite the depth to which they had descended. Instead, a yawning darkness looked down upon the company and untethered, unsourced lights bobbed gently through the air as if upon an invisible current. Before them lay a great table, heaped with every delicacy Jimin had ever conceived of and decanters filled with the most aromatic wines.

The Prince squeezed his hand tenderly, guiding him to the head of the table. There, the Prince took the golden plated chair and motioned for Jimin to take the one beside it. Gratefully, he bowed his head and slipped silently into the seat, admiring the gentle merriment and splendor laid before him.

As Jimin took the scene before him in, the Prince leaned closer to him, reaching out to twirl a piece of his light hair between his fingers.

“I’ve always wanted this,” the Prince said, his eyes never leaving the man’s hair.

“W-what?”

The Prince seemed to catch himself and pulled himself out of his reverie.

“I am a collector of beautiful things,” he said, as if that explained his strange words.

“I don’t understand.”

The Prince smiled softly, running his finger down Jimin’s nose and over his lips.

“Then drink and be merry,” he sang, his voice strung together in the most beautiful melody.

A dark-haired lady came between the Prince and Jimin, holding a jewel-encrusted decanter. Bowing her head, she first filled the Prince's cup, her hands wrapping slender and delicate around the silver handle. But as Jimin watched, he realized there was a slight tremble to her movements. He looked up at her, only to see her eyes darting to and from the Prince and his newest companion.

The young lady came around Jimin's other side, and as she leaned over to pour his golden goblet full of the sweet wine, she whispered in his ear, "Eat no food, and drink no wine or you will never see your home again."

With that, the woman stood abruptly and disappeared down one of the many hallways that spotted the great chamber.

Jimin quickly set the cup down on the table. The Prince took note of this, his eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"My dear, sweet Jimin," he said, his voice threading through the air like song. His voice spoke of softness, of tender touches exchanged in the dark. And yet, as Jimin gazed upon him, he saw the coldness in the Prince's gaze. "Do you not enjoy the taste of my wine?"

"No, no," he said, quick to unravel the tension of the moment. "I am simply not thirsty."

The Prince leaned into him, a smile spreading across his lips. "After all that dancing, you must be thirsty." He brought the cup to Jimin's lips, but he held his mouth shut.

The others at the table had fallen silent to watch the Prince hold the goblet to the man’s lips.

A large one with silver hair that fell to his waist stood abruptly from his chair, knocking it back in the process. "Whoever comes to our table must drink with us," he growled, grabbing Jimin's arm. A deep shock ran through him, stopping his heart.

At that moment a red-haired lass, her hair split into intricate braids, snatched Jimin's free hand and tugged him from the grasp of the large silver-haired being.

"Run!" she commanded, tugging Jimin towards the stairs. The pair wove their way towards the entrance, dodging the grasp of the dancers.

Around him, Jimin could hear the bellowing anger of the Prince, echoing off the walls of the hall as if he stood in every corner. Chairs and platters crashed to the floor as his subjects jumped up, attempting to stop his exit.

While Jimin was not large and while he did not hold the brute strength that many men boasted about, he was graceful and swift. Guided by the red-haired woman's agile steps, his pace was quick, as if he had learned this kind of dance many many years ago.

The pair sprinted up the steps, hand-in-hand, until they emerged into the dark night. The coolness of the early winter air washed over them, bathing their red faces and stinging their lungs. From the satchel that hung round her waist, the woman withdrew a vine. She grabbed Jimin’s hand, opening it up so she could place the plant securely. With tenderness, she wrapped her hand around his, closing it in a fist.

"You are safe for the time being," she said, her breath heavy with effort. "Take this, and hold it until you reach home. No one can harm you." Jimin opened his palm to look down upon the large-leafed plant. Athair-Lusa. Ground ivy.

"Thank you," he whispered.

The woman nodded, a sad smile playing across her lips. Her eyes shone with the kind of grief that only one who knows their own destiny can hold.

Jimin could hear the sounds of footsteps running up the stairs and so he took the white and green plant and turned his back on the field, the stairs, and the man who had held him so tenderly; and he ran. He ran along the sward and through the forests surrounding the town, past the well, and across the path. At last, he reached his home. He threw open the wooden door and locked it behind him.

His heart beat so quickly and furiously he worried it would pound its way straight through his ribcage. Behind his back pressed to the door, he could hear a great sound emerge from the forest and a voice cried out to him—

"The power I had over you is gone through the magic of the herb that ties you to this world. But when you dance again to our music, you will stay with me forevermore, and nothing shall hinder that eternity."

Jimin closed his eyes, clutching the herb to his chest. When he had regained his breath, he made his way over to the small bed tucked in the corner of his small home, folding the leafy plant carefully beneath the collar of his shirt.

It took a while before sleep came for him, and when it did, it was restless and dreamless.

However, Jimin kept the magic branch safely tucked into his clothes every day and the Fae never troubled him.

But it took many years before the sweet, low sound of music and the searing eyes of the Prince left his dreams.

taglist: @ppersonna @thatlongspringnight @myimaginationsrunningwild @ladyartemesia @ezralia-writes @ggukcangetit

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lochrannn · 3 years

Link

Warnings: Sexual Content (M Rating)

Characters: Lila Pitts; Diego Hargreeves; Allison Hargreeves; Klaus Hargreeves; Ben Hargreeves

Relationship: Lila Pitts/Diego Hargreeves

Roommates AU; Fake Marriage; Slow Burn; Mutual Pining; Emotional H/C

Chapter 8/9

They’ve planned to head out early in the morning, because they will have to drive for a couple of hours to get to the more scenic part of the coast that Diego’s never actually been to himself. So the evening before he stops by Ben’s to borrow his camera. To his annoyance Klaus is also there.

Diego loves Klaus and he’s usually glad to see him and always relieved to see him in a safe and relatively normal place. He hasn’t forgotten the years of crawling along the city’s streets in his car in the dead of night, looking for Klaus because nobody had heard from him in days, or picking him up from shady ass bars, high as a kite.

But Klaus, despite the fact that he seems a little spaced out half the time, has always had an unfailing read on him and Diego really doesn’t want to get into it with Klaus what his plans are for tomorrow and why he needs Ben’s camera. Dealing with his brother’s shenanigans at the wedding was bad enough.

“So you’re taking your fake wife on a fake honeymoon beach trip to take some romantic pictures and you have absolutely no ulterior motive, you say?” Klaus asks, sipping on a large mug filled with a very fragrant and spicy smelling tea in Ben’s living room.

Diego’s leaning against the windowsill, arms crossed defensively, while Ben is over by the dining table unpacking his camera equipment and trying to pare down the amount of stuff he’s going to send Diego out with and very pointedly trying to look like he’s not listening. “First off, Lila’s my actual wife, you were literally the witness, Klaus, and second of all, yeah, I have an ulterior motive, I want to help her convince immigration officials that we didn’t just get married so she could get a visa!”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, stop deflecting!” Klaus says in that mild tone of his that always puts Diego on edge.

“Why, what other ulterior motive could I have other than scamming the government?” Diego asks in irritation and then instantly regrets opening that door for Klaus. The slow grin that spreads across his brother’s face makes Diego regret a lot of choices in his life.

“I think you’re in love with your wife, you weirdo!” Klaus says, batting his eyelashes at him and Diego tries not to react, but then thinks that may be exactly the wrong choice, so a little too late he grimaces and says, “Don’t be silly!”

“Oh please, it was written all over your face at the wedding. And so much sexual tension between the two of you, maybe you should fuck and see whether that resolves it,” Klaus offers with a shrug.

“Yeah, no… that didn’t really work…” Diego breathes out and then instantly realizes the horrible mistake he made when both his brothers almost shout, “What?!” at the same time.

“Urgh, you slept with your wife, you pervert?” Klaus squeals in delight, almost falling over on the couch laughing at his own joke.

“She wasn’t my wife then…” Diego shoots back and he just doesn’t know how this keeps happening. Why is he arguing about this with Klaus? He really, really doesn’t want to talk about it, but Klaus just always manages to push his buttons.

“Oh, intriguing! Do tell!” his brother rights himself on the couch and looks at him with big curious eyes.

“Absolutely fucking not!” Diego says grumpily and crosses his arms again, trying to physically make himself shut the fuck up.

“But then what are you even doing, Diego?” Ben pipes up from the other side of the room and that is almost worse, Diego thinks, because Ben’s going to end up making a good point, “You’re clearly in love with each other, you’re having sex, you live together, you’re married, but for some reason you say you’re not actually together?”

“We had sex once, and Lila’s not in love with me!” Diego grumbles just for the sake of disagreeing with Ben.

“But you’re in love with Lila?” Ben asks at the same time as Klaus says, “Oh please, Lila is definitely in love with you! I thought she obviously wanted to bang you, but now I know she already got there that puts all the longing looks she gave you in a completely different light!”

Diego’s not inclined to simply believe his hyperbolic brother and suddenly talking about the whole thing stings in a peculiar way, so he tries to not pout when he stabs a finger at one brother at a time and says, “I’m not talking to you two about this!” Then, directed at Ben he asks, “Are you done with the damn camera? I don’t want to be here all night, should have just gotten a disposable one at the drugstore!”

To Diego’s relief, Ben holds out a small bag and he grabs it, says his very swift goodbyes, and leaves in a hurry.

They leave, as planned, in the early morning and at first Lila is grumpy and Diego starts doubting himself for suggesting the trip. He’d hoped that beyond getting some nice photos, he could offer Lila a bit of a reprieve from the stress of the past weeks, but once they’ve stopped off to get some coffee and donuts, to his relief, her mood markedly improves.

It’s stupid, but after what Klaus and Ben said to him, Diego can’t help watching her intently to see whether they might actually be right. But all he achieves is to get distracted from watching the road when he keeps looking over to see Lila, feet up on the dashboard, donut in one hand and take-away coffee in the other, singing loudly and badly along to the radio.

Despite the good forecast for the weather, the sun hasn’t managed to come out through the clouds yet, but, Diego thinks maybe a little overly poetically, he’d hardly notice with the way Lila seems to brighten up the inside of the car with her huge toothy grin as she looks over at him while still chewing on her donut.

“What? D’you not like my singing?” Lila asks him with a challenging sparkle in her eyes and Diego turns back to look at the road because he’s starting to worry that he might just be openly mooning over her.

“Why wouldn’t I like your singing, seeing as you’re so good at it?” he responds sarcastically.

“Fuck off!” Lila says, laughing lightly and punching him playfully in the arm with her donut hand, transferring a little of the powdered sugar onto his shirt.

“You’re in a good mood,” Diego points out. He doesn’t mind that, of course, in fact he’s endlessly relieved, but it does come as a bit of a surprise after the last few weeks in which she seemed to be on quite the emotional rollercoaster.

“We’re going to the beach! You have to be in a good mood when you go to the beach, Diego, it’s the law!” Lila explains seriously and Diego makes the mistake of looking over at her again and his heart skips a beat at the way she’s looking at him.

Klaus’s words ring in his ear, but once more he can’t figure her out. It’s just as likely that she simply genuinely likes going to the beach and is excited about it.

When they get to the shore Diego gets so distracted by all the attractions and all the different activities they get up to that he almost starts to feel like they’re on an actual date.

They take a walk along the water, joking and chatting in a way they haven’t in weeks, Lila taking off her shoes and pulling up the skirt of her dress so she can wade in all the way to her knees. Diego’s impressed as he just puts his hand in the shallow waves once to gage the temperature and decides that he has absolutely no interest in getting any other part of his body wet.

They have about twenty pictures left on the film, so they make sure to get as many different photos as possible so they can claim their honeymoon was a couple of days long, rather than just a single day trip. They have lunch on the terrace of a small seafood restaurant and then head back to Diego’s car to change into a different set of clothes and wander along the fair on either side of the promenade.

One stall offers knife throwing for prizes and Lila gets Diego to take part. He’s surprisingly good at it and lets Lila choose a prize and instead of taking one of the huge stuffed toys she picks a cheap-looking bracelet made up of wooden beads on a string and Diego can’t help but think that it really does look pretty cute on her.

As the day turns into late afternoon he buys them ice cream to take along their walk down the pier and Diego doesn’t miss the way something flashes across Lila’s expression when he hands her her cone and then turns back to the vendor and asks for a receipt for their immigration file. He has no idea what to make of it, though.

“There’s a place near London called Brighton,” Lila begins telling him as they almost reach the end of the pier, “it has this huge, gaudy pier and when I was at school they took us there on a day trip. I really didn’t like it, but then they also took us by boat to this other pier that was derelict and damaged by storms and you couldn’t get to it without a boat anymore and I much preferred that one, even though there was nothing really there anymore, except for the ruins of a victorian building.” Lila leans over the ornate, wrought iron railing and looks out at the water. “And then, when I was in my teens there was this massive fire and a couple of friends and I we bunked off school and took a train down to Brighton to take a look. We could still see smoke coming off it even the day after and there was this sooty smell on the beach and I don’t know why but I actually teared up. And I can’t quite explain it, but it was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen!”

Lila turns to look at him then, and her huge brown eyes are so full of emotion that Diego finds it hard to look at her and simultaneously can’t tear his eyes away.

Lila blinks rapidly and then turns back to look out at the sea and the slowly setting sun and says in a low voice, “Don’t even know why I’m telling you this.”

On some instinct Diego pulls out the camera and takes a picture of her in profile. They’ve been purposely only taking pictures of the two of them together, on occasion asking strangers and then wrapping an arm around each other, or Lila would put her hand in the crook of his elbow, because a photo of them individually will offer nothing in the way of evidence for the visa process.

Having heard the shutter release go off, Lila looks at him again and asks, “What’d you take a picture of?”

Diego looks down at where he’s winding the little wheel to the next picture on the film with his thumb and says quietly, “One of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.”

Lila doesn’t respond and when he does muster the nerve to raise his eyes up to meet hers, there’s suddenly a charge between them that feels like it might set the damp sea air on fire. He’s just about to say something, anything really, when a slightly nasal voice coming from somewhere off to the side chimes in with a midwestern twang, “Hey mister, would you like me to take a photo of you and the lovely missus?”

They both look around abruptly to see a small woman with a kind, round face look at them expectantly.

“Uh…” Diego begins, taking a moment to find himself back in the real world, “Yeah, thanks, that’d be nice!”

He hands the camera to the woman and she takes a few steps back to get them in frame and calls out, “Smile!” and he hears the camera click before he’s even managed to follow her instructions. He’s in the middle of wondering about just how dumb he probably looks in the photo when the woman looks over the top of the camera and asks, “One more?” to which Lila says “Yes!” with determination and then grips his shirt with both hands and Diego turns just in time for Lila to press her lips to his and that’s when all coherent thoughts get swept out of his mind like sand along a beach.

“Aw, how wonderful!” Diego hears the woman call out and only realizes that he’s closed his eyes and pulled Lila hard against himself when she puts a couple of inches between them, but doesn’t quite let go of him at the interruption, “Got the sunset in and everything! Here’s your camera.”

Diego lets go of Lila with one hand and she slides back onto her feet, a tiny selfish part of Diego’s brain notes that it almost seemed like she was a little reluctant, and he takes the offered camera.

He puts it back in the bag and then startles when Lila wraps her arms around his waist and presses her face into his chest, hugging him tightly.

A little uncertainly, Diego puts his arms around her and hugs her back, then leans his head down and whispers into her ear, “What’s that for?”

She mumbles against his chest, but he’s close enough to hear her, “Just don’t think I’ve really thanked you enough for what you’re doing for me!”

There are so many things he’d like to respond with but they all seem to either not say enough or far too much about how he feels in that moment, so instead, Diego tightens his grip on her and buries his face in her hair and just holds on until Lila starts pulling away.

The drive back to the city is a lot more sombre compared to the giddy energy that Lila had created in the car on their way to the beach. Diego looks over at her periodically, but for most of the time she’s just quietly staring out of the window at the scenery whizzing by in the half light of dusk. It’s a beautiful view, he can’t blame her, but he feels almost like she’s trying to avoid conversation with him. So not sure what he would even talk about, Diego leaves her to it and spends his time making up his mind that once she has her green card and is no longer reliant on their continued charade, he owes it to himself, but maybe even the two of them, to tell her how he feels.

There’s a definite shift in the way they live together after their beach trip. They never actually discuss it, but Diego makes an effort to not work until late in the evening, and it seems Lila hardly ever has any plans with friends at night, and so they spend the weeks leading up to their immigration interview cooking and having dinner together, often using the time to get to know each other as best they can and compare notes on all the relevant answers to the questions Rodriguez and his wife wrote down for them. Other times they’ll put on a movie and make popcorn and spend a quiet evening on the couch together.

It’s both perfect and absolute bliss and at the same time it nearly tears Diego apart. Because every time they sit together on the couch, separated only by the fucking bowl of popcorn that they both very strenuously take turns to put their hand in, he has to physically restrain himself from simply shoving the stupid bowl to the floor and launching himself at Lila.

It’s slowly driving him insane.

On the day of their interview they are both quite nervous and when the USCIS agent separates them and puts them in different offices, Diego can’t stop fidgeting even when the interviewer promptly comes back in to talk to him.

He needn’t have worried. They’d done a good job at preparing for the interview and between all of the photos and receipts (some of them legit others maybe slightly less so), there are no holes that anyone could poke in the story they’d created.

He is somewhat thrown, though, when the agent asks him whether he loves his wife, that wasn’t a question that Rodriguez had mentioned, but it strikes him that it’s the one question that he can answer most honestly, so he tells her that he loves Lila with all of his heart and at this point couldn’t imagine living without her, and the agent just makes a note on her notepad and then thanks him for his time.

He’s waiting in the foyer when Lila comes out looking a little flustered and Diego’s heart sinks in disappointment as he concludes she must not have gotten her green card.

“You ok?” he asks tentatively as she gets to him and Lila gives him a glassy eyed look and says slightly absentmindedly, “Yeah, course!”

Confused by her answer, Diego tries again and asks, “How’d it go?”

Lila seems just as confused when she answers, “Uh, yeah, fine!”

Feeling like there’s a misunderstanding somewhere in their conversation Diego asks head on, though he feels like he’s being insensitive, “So, d’you get the visa?”

“What?” Lila asks distractedly, then adds, looking more harassed than he’s ever seen her “Oh that, yeah, yeah, of course I did. Uhm, can we just go home?”

He’s absolutely thrown by that. He would have expected her to be significantly more excited, considering the amount of work she put in, but he thinks maybe it’s just the adrenaline wearing off, so he follows her wordlessly out of the building and back to the car.

When they get back to the apartment, Diego’s just in the middle of taking off his boots, when Lila twists around to look at him and then rushes out, almost as if she’s been holding the question in for hours, “Diego, are you in love with me?”

#otp: just be gentle #lila pitts #diego hargreeves #dielila #diego x lila #diego/lila #tua #the umbrella academy #klaus hargreeves #ben hargreeves #fanfic #ongoing fanfic

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