#I can’t fast for reasons but I help out my family and wake them up and such | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jackiequick · 1 year

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Operation Baby Rescue - Fast & Furious Fic 🏁 (Part 2)

Val Toretto x Deckard Shaw

Check out the backstory to the character and couple here

Operation Baby Rescue / Fast & Furious Fic 🏁 (Part 1)

—

Val reread the note more than twice and groans, can’t believe what she just read onto the real reason why Dom kept working with the bad side of the story. She has his son. She took a breath and looked up at Santos who pointed with a smile to take a look in the back.

She nodded and busted open the door, stepping inside to see a rather older woman she hasn’t seen before hanging over Deckard’s body. “How lovely..” Val mutter and took a seat across from her, with the man in question in the smack middle of them. “Sorry, haven’t met you before..who are you?” She asked.

The older woman gave her a cheeky grin and shook her head. “Bloody idiot didn’t think of mentioning me to anyone, did he?” Said the woman sending a small glare to Deckard’s unconscious face then glance back at her, “I’m Magdalene Shaw, dear.”

“Sh-Shaw? As in his mother, Shaw.”

“Ah, so you heard of me?”

“He mentioned his mother once or twice. Nice to finally meet the face to the name.”

Mama Shaw smiled, “You’re prettier than your brother said and humorous, i like you. Too bad my idiot son, didn’t bother to tell me about you!”

Val snickered and nod, “We should make plans for a lovely brunch, just the two of us. Let’s wake up him.”

Magdalene Shaw took a syringe stabbing it into her son’s chest. Deckard gasp glaring at her, “Jesus mom, your supposed to avoid the nerves!”

“Oh shut up.” Replied his mother, putting the syringe away, “Don’t be such a baby. That’s for also not telling me about her.”

“What?”

Deckard’s upper body slowly turned to his left, his eyes widen at the sight and groaned, “Oh hell..”

“Not happy to see me, Deck?” Asked Val, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed waving at him.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“Clearly Dom didn’t tell you, I’m coming.”

“Of course he’ll ask his sister. I’m guessing you met mom.

“She’s lovely, we’re having brunch if we survive this.”

“Oh no..”

His mother smirked, “Oh yes. That’s what you get for not introducing me to her earlier!”

“We’ll discuss this later! Did Toretto hold up his end of the deal?” He asked, looking at both woman.

Magdalene held up a communication device, that looked like a smart watch to track Cipher with. “But you can’t do this on your own, it’s got to be 3 of you.” She explained.

“Fine, we got contacts.” Deckard said with a shrug.

“No, you’re taking your brother. Toretto knows where he is, it’s called the devil’s bumhole or something.”

~~~

Val tried not to laugh as she corrected her, “It’s called God’s eye. And we’ll take Owen.”

“No we’re not! He’s a lost cause.” Deckard remarked, not liking the idea.

“He’s your brother, Deck.”

“Yeah so?”

“We should take him, we need someone to help as back up.”

“I can call one of my guys back home, get the job done much easier.”

His mother added onto Val’s response and started to cry, “He’s your brother. My son, your family. And our family don’t die, bloody..how can you talk like that about Owen i can’t believe you! You gone and upset me, why can’t you just listen to us and..”

Deckard sigh looking around and said, “Oh come, mom. Ok, I’ll take him!”

Mama Shaw grinned knowing her son fell for that trick every time and wink at Val. “He’s too easy.” She said, slapping her son’s chest, “Now, how long have you two been together?”

“Oh mom!” Deckard exclaimed annoyed and slightly embarrassed at the question, taking Val’s hand, “This is why I didn’t want you to meet her.”

“How long, Deck?”

“Since 2011. It’s been a going on for a while now, we’ve all seen each other every couple times a year.” Val answering and chuckling brightly, squeezing her boyfriend’s hand.

His mother gasp, “How long were you gonna hide this from me? You’re own mother! Have i’ve not taught you anything?”

“Mom, I didn’t think i needed to tell you. I was prison for more than 2 years, for god’s sake!” Deck tried to explained and sigh, “..I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“At least kiss the sweet girl, she must’ve thought you were dead for half a day. Us women deserve more from you Deck.”

“I can handle this. You two meeting wasn’t on my agenda for this..”

~~~

Val leaned forward watching the two and smirked, “She’s right, you scared the shit of me after Dom fake shot you.”

“You’re just as worse. Come here, you.” Deck said as he rolled his eyes and cupped her cheeks pressing his lips onto hers, giving each other a taste of how much they missed each other, “I’m sorry, we couldn’t tell you.”

“It’s alright. I must’ve known Dom was planning something else involving you and the team.”

“I promise we’ll go on another vacation after this, your choice.”

“Let’s get to work then.”

——

Val packed up her guns and the carrier, waiting for the Shaw brother to stop bickering. “Boys! Seriously?” She yelled, looking at the clock.

“Sorry, love. We’re planning out who flies first.” Deck replied and kiss her cheek.

“I still can’t believe i get called back to action, to see my brother in a relationship with what used to be my enemy.” Owen said looking over and scoffed.

“Shut it.”

Within 4 minutes, they stood up and out of the drop zone. Placing their helmets, as they flew behind and beyond the plane that belong to Cipher. Owen in front opening the back of the plane as the three of them stumbled onto the track, holding onto crates closing the back door.

Removing their helmets, Val took a breath, fixing her handheld set and pushing hair out of her face. The brother talked quickly, Val instructed Owen to take the pilots while her and Deck searched. Cipher got alerts about them being on the plane right now and got pissed.

“Surprise.” Deckard said looking over his shoulder at the security camera and the next two smirked. The doors open as the 3 shot down a few agents Deckard instructed Owen to wait for his signal before following Val down the halls safety.

The two ran down the hall fighting a few guards reaching the room, that carrier the package. Owen signaled his brother that they’re in position, Deckard slide open the door as Val’s jaw dropped at the very package in front of her. A bouncing baby boy in his crib babbling, reaching his hands in the air.

“Hello chulo, hi. I’m your Tia Val.” She said calling him ‘cutie’ in Spanish as he gushed at her making grabby hands.

Without a second later she picked him, bouncing him on her hip. He curled comfortably into her chest. She nuzzled her cheek onto his head, “You’re so cute. Deck i think i want one.”

Deck chuckled as the baby boy grabbed his finger and he replied, “We’ll see about that, love. He’s a very handsome boy, seems to like us. A happy kid, for sure.”

He opened a comm link to Dom, waiting for the other line. Once he did, Deckard announced, “We got the package, Toretto. All 12 pounds of him.”

As he did, the baby smile bouncing and babbling, “Ya!..yeahhh da..dada..da.”

The two chuckled at him, in love with the kid already. Val can only imagine the sigh of relief on Dom’s face as she cradles the little guy in her arms. Deckard smiled at the two of them, cooing at the kid, imagining his lady as a mom one day.

Deckard placed the baby boy in a carrier, covering his ears with headphones as the kid just softly smiled at him. He turned up the volume of the music being Alvin and The Chipmunks. Val gave him a look, “Seriously? That song?”

“What? He like it.” Deckard replies turning back to the baby, “You good?”

The baby boy just made a satisfying sound as if to say, ‘yeah i love this song. We’re good.’ Val cracked a laugh, placing a kiss on her nephew’s forehead before nodding towards the door with her gun.

Deckard looked down with a soft look of reassurance to the boy and said, “Alright little man, this might be a little scary but its’ gonna be a lot of fun.”

—-

Once the door open, Deckard held the carrier jabbed and punched a two men as Val pointed her gun shooting down two more. The two took cover, switching off who gets the carry the boy next. Like a game of hop potato. “How’s the music? Good?” Deckard asked the kid, who was in his own little world waving a hand in the air replying to his question.

Val pinned and kicked a few men off balance and onto the glass table, even shot once in the chest, satisfying herself. Deckard scoffed dragging one across the bar on the wall, slamming him against a few glass as he shot a few others.

“Going for a ride.” He said, sliding the carrier over to her, as Val catches it with her foot like a Soccer ball.

She heard her nephew giggle which cause the girl to smile in return, “You like that, huh kiddo?” Val slide the carrier in between a few seats safely, “Back in a sec, keep watch.”

Deckard and Valentina stood back to back, holding up their gun to the soldiers who glared at them, they shot down two. Deck leaned forward, causing her back to rest against his, holding Val securely spinning around as she kicked a few steps onto the soliders. Once he dropped her onto the ground, Deckard dodged a few punches swiftly whooping a couple of asses successfully along the way, eventually throwing one across the room breaking the glass shelf in between them.

Val dodged a couple of punches and switch places using items such a bowl to slam a few heads. She crouched down in front of the carrier, “Where’s that handsome smile?” Baby Toretto smiled brightly listening to his music. “There is it!” She added, picking up the carrier blocking a couple of bullets, spinning to shoot the very who shot at her.

“How dare you shoot a baby? No respect!” Val scoffed and looked over shoulder jokingly signaling him, “You heard Deck?”

Deckard peeked his head from the other side of the wall after punching some guy. He scoffed at the man, “You were gonna shoot a baby? You sick bastard!”

He turned the carrier toward windows and stepped over to the male guard with a smug smirk slamming his head into a table multiple times until he passed out while fighting off two more.

Val noticed a huge guard charging at them and she scoff in annoyance, “Ugh! Another one of you? Aren’t you tired yet of this game?!” The man flipping her over and slammed her against the table, swinging her around like a rag doll as glass shattered around her as Val tries to fight him.

Before he can get a strong shot at her, Deckard came in swinging and slammed the man across the room yelling, “Hands off, asshole!”

He quickly pulled her up from the ground checking her face. Concern was laced in his eyes, scanning for any damage aside from the hits they already took to the head. “Are you okay? Did the bastard hurt you badly?” Deck asked.

“N-no, I’m alright I think..” Val reply noticing a few cuts on her man’s shoulders from the fight, “Are you okay?”

“Ah, I’ll live. We’ll get bandage up later.”

“Yeah, and next time you take the big guy.”

The two crack a few smiles, running over to the baby carrier to check their special package, making sure no more guards or soldiers coming in anytime soon.

—

Deckard wink at her before checking on Baby Toretto with a soft smile, “How we doing, buddy? Good?” The baby was clapping his hands with the brightest toothless grin he ever seen.

“There’s that handsome smile!” Added Deck grinning from ear to ear, before looking back at his lady, “I love the little guy.”

“Me too. He’s one of the funnest rescue I’ve ever had.” Val joked, making a silly face toward her nephew who giggles in return.

Val walked into the room that held Cipher holding the gun straight to her face, a piercing look laced with such attitude and seriousness. “You bitch.” Is all she said at the blonde in braids.

“Fair. How did you find me?” Cipher asked, noticing Deckard walking in behind her holding his gun with a glare and gentle placed down the baby carrier.

Deckard smirked as hee answered the question, “A friend gave us a tip.” He revealed Dom’s famously worn cross necklace, tossing it over to his lady, who caught it.

“Clever.” Cipher said with a smirk, “You’re also out of bullets, Deckard.”

“Like i need a gun to take care of you.”

“Also very resourceful, I’ll give you that.”

“You have a lot to answer for Cipher. What you put both of ours families though, my mother. I’mma make sure that never happens again. Not to anyone ever again!”

“You should know by now, you messed with the wrong crew. Especially when my brother’s really calling the shots around here.” Val added, “It’s simple really, stop you for the damage you caused.”

Cipher scoffed, “Only one fault in your pretty plan.”

“What’s that?” Deck asked, with a glare.

“Only one of us has a parachute.”

Within not even a matter of seconds, Cipher grabbed the raven black backpack that held a parachute inside, opening the doors flying out. Val raced after her causing her to almost hit her fist and slip out of the plane, gasping and yelling out in frustration at losing Cipher. Deckard noticed the baby carrier sliding towards the door as he jumped to grab it quickly, but almost being able to reach the buttons to shut the door.

He grunted as he noticed her almost slipping out of the door, Deckard reached towards her forgetting about closing the door for a moment and pulled her back. Once Val was near the doorframe of the bay, she grunted pushing the baby carrier away safely as both their feet hit the button to shut off the plane door, sliding down closing them in safety.

Deckard lays with his back against the floor and banged his fist against the wall, “Damn it.”

“We tried.” Val responded with a annoyed sigh, laying down next to him.

“No more racing after the enemy.”

“Or planes for a while.”

“Agreed.”

The two stayed there for a moment to catch their breath, with a slight smile but those smiles only grew once they heard a sudden giggle and sweet babbles.

Val sat up first pulling the baby carrier towards them chuckling, “What you laughing at, huh?”

“Told you this will be fun.” Deckard added with a chuckle and winked at the baby.

Baby Toretto giggled some more looking up at them with huge chocolate brown eyes that reminded Valentina so much of Dom and Elena. She remembered Elena she called the sweet baby boy Marcos as a middle name but Dom should be the one to give him a first name. She adored the name Baby Marcos Toretto but she was also interested to see what name Dom picked out for him.

The baby giggles once again, snapping her out of her thoughts. Deckard’s voice that held a smile caught her attention as well, talking to Baby Toretto with a quick wink. He stood up, lifting up the carrier with him and informing his brother to talk to the pilot to land soon. She watched Deck take Marcos out of the carrier and bounce him in his arms chuckling. It made Val wonder how Deck would be as a father one day, seeing him being so sweet and loving towards the baby.

“You alright?” He asked, reaching out his hand to help her off the floor as he carried the baby with the other.

She took it and stood up, “Huh? I’m good.”

“You seemed lost in thought for a moment there.”

“Just seeing you with him, had me thinking about you as a dad.”

Deck smiled and joked eyeing her for a moment, “You’re not pregnant, aren’t you?”

“No!” Val laughed and playfully slapped his arm, “I’ll leave the baby making to my siblings.”

“Okay good, but you will make a good mom one day.”

“And you’ll make a good dad.”

Baby Marcos Toretto had a toothless silly grin waving a hand up and down, as the headphones stayed on his head playing ‘Alvin and The Chipmunks’ on repeat. Val reached out to tickle his belly, then bopping his nose as Deckard bounced him for a moment catching his attention, fixing his headphone.

The pair knew the next few days would be interesting, since they headed off to a select safe house to take care of the boy with Owen’s help while Dom and the crew finished settling the mission for Mr. Nobody.

—-

Thank you so much for reading! What did you think it? Let’s discuss if you like. Please remember to like, comment & share! ✨

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ma3-author2 · 1 year

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✧Visionary

GIF by Ma3

Part 4 of Visionary.

Pairing: Lo’ak/Neteyam x Omatikaya Reader

Summary: Moving to the Awa’atlu was a whole different world for you, where things aren’t easy like in the forest you grew up in. With new Na'vi, culture shock, and a lot of patience, thanks to a Metkayina Na'vi boy who was testing your nerves, you thought the Sully kids were the only ones who could do that.

Theme: a lot of jealousy, a new discovery, learning to breathe, Teacher Ao'nung.

Extra: Ao'nung is simply annoying Lo'ak and Neteyam. aka, making fun of them. learning about you and getting to know one another.

Word count: 2537

Warning: Expect some English errors, as English is not my first language.

Part 1 of: ✧Visionary / Part 2 of: ✧Visionary / Part 3 of: ✧Visionary /

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

"Okay, Sully’s fall in."

As you lift yourself from the bed mat, gliding your way to where Neytiri was, who then supported you. Jake began to talk when Lo’ak and Neteyam entered the Marui.

While waiting for everyone to take their place, Kiri, who was beside you, was still standing up and not listening to Neytiri, so she moved her to face her.

"Kiri" Neytiri didn't need any more words and just looked at her, which made Kiri grumble and wonder what she had done wrong.

"What?" Kiri muttered, rolling her eyes and sighing as she squatted next to you, who then glanced at you and asked if you were okay now.

"I’m fine. Just a little drowsy." You whispered, which everyone heard.

"Maybe you should take a dip to wake you up, huh, Y/N?" Lo’ak teased, chuckling as he said it, and you simply scoffed and laughed at it.

"Okay, listen. I need you, kids, on your best behavior." Jake began to lay down some ground rules. "I mean it. Learn fast; pull your weight." He then glances at Lo'ak, whose smile slowly disappears when you gesture with your eyes for him to pay attention to his father.

"Don’t cause trouble, got it?"

"Yes, sir," Lo’ak mumbled, followed by a hiss when Neteyam playfully grabbed his nape. which you added by shaking your head at Neteyam, who then gave you a ‘What?’ look.

"I want to go home."

Hearing Tuktirey you also felt what she’s feeling right now. The word "homesick" is just beneath you; what’s more, seeing her cry made you think of the time when she was just a pup lost in the forest and you and the others were tasked to find her.

Thanks to you. Neytiri calmed down. She was about to go on a rampage and scold the two boys. As to what happened, well, thanks to Lo’ak and Spider, who thought it was great to introduce the forest to Tuk by playing hide and seek.

"Oh, Tuk…" Neytiri wanted to comfort her daughter.

"Tuk, this is our home now." Jake sigh holding Tuk hand and reassuring her that everything is just hard in the beginning and "We’re gonna get through this"

"We’re gonna get through this if we have each other’s back," Jake repeated, this time asking for their support.

"What does your father always say?" Neytiri asks, glancing at her children, who then peek at Kiri, who remains silent while Neteyam and Lo’ak say it, but in a whispering way.

As for you, you stayed silent as well—not because you are not a Sully. Okay, maybe that is the reason, or you think it’s best for them to do their ritual as they always do it when there’s a mission or a hardship on the ground.

"That’s right, Sully’s stick together, and this time with some feelings." Jake was about to add you to it as he didn’t want you to feel like you were left out, but when he glanced at you,

He left you be, as you also have your own. eyes were closed, seemingly sleeping, but in reality, you were repeating the verse that your father once said.

'Don't rush; take your time, and never be afraid. Remember, fear is our biggest enemy. But fear can help us face what’s in front of us.’

‘If you think you are in a tight position, there will always be a light for you to walk out of it’

With this, it gives you strength, and at the same time, you can’t help but smile as you remember it.

This wasn’t unnoticed by the family.

As midnight is near, you and Kiri are helping Neytiri fix dinner for tonight. while the boys are unboxing some stuff. Tuk at the distance not too far from where you are is peacefully taking a nap.

"So you guys will start practicing tomorrow?"

Kiri hums only to realize what you meant by that "Wait aren’t you going to join us?" she asks raising her eyebrow at you only to let out an Oh sound when you pointed at your leg.

"Right, sorry, I kind of forgot."

You chuckled "It’s okay, and while you guys are learning out there, The same goes for me."

"Wait? How exactly?"

"Y/N can still be in the water but cannot swim just yet, Kiri." Neytiri butted in at the same time, signaling with her hand for Kiri to continue chopping.

"And Mr. Sully said that it’s a good remedy for me as it will help the muscles in my leg." You added: helping Kiri cut the leftover unchopped food, and after that, you cleaned the blade.

"Ah, so who will teach you?" Kiri asks again while handling the chopped food and giving it to Neytiri, and when she hears the answer, she almost drops the knife.

"If I remember it correctly, it’s the son of the chief." Ao’nung?" Once you let those sentences out, Lo’ak and Neteyam’s ears twitched, and they then cast you a look, which you caught.

While giving them a what? Look, Kiri on the side, who also saw the two boys’ reaction, was snickering, "Well, I wish you luck; I heard that he's ahead of himself."

"Oh really? Huh. I think I’ve encountered someone like that before." You ironically said. Casting a glance at the two boys who immediately averted their gaze.

"Just saying…" Kiri shrugged her shoulders, trailing the words, standing up from the ground, and giving the two boys a sidelong glance.

‘Better move, or someone might get to her’

‘You said that, like what? Fifteen times?’

‘That never happens. She's focused on something else; remember the last ones?'

"Oh, but this time it's different. I feel it'

The two Na'vi boys only rolled their eyes, continuing to do their chores, but even so, the uneasy feeling in their chests isn’t helping them.

As their mind is now racing with thoughts of what will happen if they leave you to be with the chief's son,

The tree kids communicate with their eyes, while Kiri just wanted to say this as she has a feeling that it’s different from the forest Na’vi boys who tried to court you, which failed every time one confessed.

It's not your fault that you're obsessed with vengeance and believe that finding a mate is a waste of time; furthermore, you don't believe that the Na'vi need to find a mate in order to live forever, protecting one another and creating some generations ahead.

Hey, if you got shot two times, crushed your ribs on a tree trunk, were nearly blasted by a grenade launcher, and almost died because of it yet are still strong, alive, and well, You did that without one.

Though you must give it to the Sullys because they assist you in your healing and strength-building processes. With just that, you don’t need a mate, just a clowder. (Called a "pack" of cats – for easier understanding.)

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

"Are you sure that you’re okay?"

"Yes, I think I am."

"You think?" Lo'ak then snapped his finger and pointed at you, casting a glance at the Metkayina, who were Tsireya, Rotxo, and Ao'nung, and telling them that you're not sure and won't be ready to practice today.

While it convinces the two Metkayina, the other one is only sneering at this, already knowing that’s a lie as he already heard it from his mother that he will be the one teaching you.

"Would it be better to rest for, I don’t know. A week... a month... before you begin?" Neteyam said helping you stand up.

You can’t help but chuckle, shaking your head and giving the two boys a ‘are you two plotting something?’ look.

"What is it with you two? I’m perfectly fine, and I need this to help my leg heal faster."

"She’s right, you know. It will help her."

While Neteyam and Lo’ak pursed their lips at Ao’nung’s remark. Furthermore, when he began to approach you and his hands were now held in front of you, they began to smirk in a scoffing way when you-

"Thank you; I can handle it." You said, swiftly ignoring his hand, that you were now making your way near the shore.

Ao’nung brought his hand back, curling one lip up, and made a quick tilt of his head, following you behind and at the same time giving a sidelong glance at the two forest Na’vi boys who were glaring at him.

Eyeing him that if he did something to you they will not hesitate to show their fist.

Ao’nung only scoffed, mockingly showing his hand. ‘Don’t worry, my hands are clean.’ While you two made your way to the practice area near the shore, Tsireya and Rotxo took Sully’s kids into a more ocean part.

After entering the water, you raised your head and inhaled heavily after Ao'nung instructed you to try to hold your breath in order to increase your ability to breathe while submerged.

"Your two brothers are really protective of you, huh?" Ao’nung puts one hand in between yours, supporting you in case your legs throb again.

"Who?" you ask, peering at him while brushing the water from your eyes.

"Lo’ak and Neteyam?" you ask, and when he nodded, you chuckled, shaking your head and telling him that the two brothers are your childhood friends.

What’s more, "We’re like a team."

"Really? Then Toruk Makto is not your father?"

"No, but he treats me like one of his."

"If they aren’t your family, then where-?"

"They’re gone. Now, are you planning to continue to ask me this thing or help me with my breathing?" You cut him off not wanting to continue this topic, eyeing him to not continue.

"Oops, I didn’t know that was a sensitive topic."

Ao’nung chuckled thought saying that it will tick you but to his surprise, you only brush it off. Furthermore, he felt your grasp gently tightening around his hand, and he felt like maybe he went too far.

"It’s fine; you don’t know." You muttered, even though he said the words as if they were a joke, and even though you wanted to punch him in the face, you thought rationally.

If you punch him, you will cause a slew of issues, and you have already caused enough. On the hand, part let’s just say you’re trying to calm yourself.

'Wow, not only am I out of breath, but this Na’vi is testing me’ You were scoffing. Though it appears that you are saving yourself more trouble from your perspective, it's a completely different story for Ao'nung.

As you and Ao’nung continued the lessons, not too far from where you two were, the first group was watching you two, and in the first scene, Sully’s kid was about to swim where you were as you almost drowned.

Only to stop when Ao’nung emerge out of the water with you in his arms and they don’t like it one bit. more than the two Na’vi boys who were glaring daggers at him.

While Tsireya chuckled at this, she didn’t know how to start the lesson when two of them weren’t paying attention to her. The same goes for Rotxo, who was snickering as his friend was already making a move.

Kiri then looks at Lo’ak and Neteyam, eyeing them. telling them how she says so and swims away.

"I think you got it, Just a little more practice." Ao’nung sneered while watching you take a deep breath while lying down on the sand and looking at the sky.

"You think?" You replied by scoffing at this, as you almost drowned two times when he let go of you. Technically, it’s not his fault, as you said that you want to try it alone.

"Y/N!"

"Tuk! is something wrong?" You tried to stand up only for Ao’nung to hold you down and tell you to sit first as it will make you dizzy if you quickly stand up, and more importantly, your legs.

You almost facepalm yourself for forgetting about that part. You then thanked him and at the same time greeted Lo’ak and Neteyam, whose eyes were on Ao’nung.

‘Okay…’

"Y/N, are you okay? We saw what happened earlier."

‘…fuck’ Maybe not only the leg part, but you also forgot that they were also practicing and not too far from where you two were, and this made you embarrassed.

"I’m fine and getting the hang of it. Though, I still need more practice."

"Practice, you say?" Maybe you should learn from Tsireya; she’s good at it" Lo’ak cut in, mentioning Tsireya, who thanked him though she hadn’t taught them any breathing lessons yet, only showing the practice location.

But she won’t refuse if you want her help, as she wants to get to know you and make a new friend.

"Maybe it’s in their blood; Ao’nung is also good at it." Even though he always makes a remark and won’t shut up even for a second, he's good at teaching you, and although he has some criticism when you do something wrong, it’s part of the lesson.

This gives you even more determination to perfect this practice and show him that you are not a bad breather or diver.

While Ao’nung smiled smugly at the two boys who were now glaring at him. At the end of the day, the Sullys continued to explore the sea. Tuk guided you back home as it was time for your medicine and to rest for today.

Originally, Ao’nung volunteered to bring you home, and before you could disagree, Tuk jumped forward, raising her hand in the air.

"It’s my turn to bring her!"

"Yes. It’s "Tuk's" turn. Go and bring Y/N home." Lo’ak said the word louder for Ao’nung to hear, who in return smirked, scoffed, and rolled his eyes at him.

This made the Sully boys confused, even you.

When he looks at you and says, "Same time tomorrow?" you get what he means.

"Hmm? Ah, sure?" You said you raised your eyebrow, replying to Ao'nung, who waves at you, to which you subconsciously wave back, but before you continued, Neteyam moved you away, telling you that his mom will be mad if you are late for your medicine.

"R-right! Let’s go Tuk."

‘Weird… or, something else. Hmm…’ You then cast a peek at them, who were now glaring at Ao'nung, who was then walking away with his friend at his side.

‘Maybe Kiri is right’ you thought, smiling at this.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Ps: Don't forgot to re-blog and heart! thankeee~!!

Yes, I know it took too long to upload a new update. Sorry that I was out surviving all my homework that the professor kept throwing at me!

Now the question is: how do you like it so far? (As to why I'm asking, people! I need some motivation to write as well! Send me more praise! compliment! complain! criticism! (Okay, maybe just the two from the start.)

*Cough* Ao'nung is not my favorite *Cough* - Clearly lying.

Other One-shot's

✧ Encounter /// ✧Sightseeing /// "Over the summer"

Do check this out if you have some spare time: Some books of mine

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the7thcrow · 1 year

Text

Not all that Glitters is Gold -> 08

series pairing: (fem) princess!reader x seonghwa x san x wooyoung. eventual polyamory.

series masterlist | previous chapter

Part Eight: shame, hot buttered rum, and a rude awakening

series rating: 16+

series genre: action and adventure. romance. angst. fluff. suggestive. fantasy au.

series warnings: character death, blood and violence, weaponry, injury, suggestive content, mxm content, elements of misogyny, language, monsters. (will only be using chapter specific warnings for things not included on this list.)

summary: as a princess fleeing a royal assassination attempt, you have no choice but to put your trust in a band of three thieves in order to reach the kingdom of kuroku alive. however, amongst magic, deceit, and the bounty hunters that are hot on your trail, you realize that you might have stumbled upon a relationship far more complicated than what meets the eye.

chapter details beneath the cut ->

wc: 13.0k

extra chapter warnings: bondage but not the sexy kind.

chapter summary:

“Mysterious black-clad army seizing the castle. Killing the king, hunting their princess,” Yeosang says, lifting a hand to place his chin in his palm. “It’s all very fantastical, don’t you think? Like something out of a storybook. Strange to be living it.”

You almost laugh at how very true that is.

a/n: been feeling a lil nervous to post bc of the large influx of readers since the last update. i’m very grateful to have you all here, but it’s definitely made me a little worried about my writing, so i hope it doesn’t show too much in this chapter. enjoy <3

When you awaken it's to light blonde hair tickling your nose. Groggily opening your eyes, the sunlight blares through the open tent flap and down onto your unwilling face, causing you to let out a groan of annoyance. Rolling over to face away from the inconsiderate sun-beam, you're met with a sleepy murmur of protest.

Seonghwa pulls you in a little closer. The man’s grip around your torso tightens as he buries his face into your collarbone, letting out an exhale that feels cool against your clammy skin. He’s still fast asleep, breathing melodically, and you can’t help the smile that grazes over your lips.

It’s been like this ever since the mimic, at least on the nights you’ve managed to sleep at all. Even then, you’ve tried to slip out after he falls asleep and return before he wakes up.

Seonghwa has tried to pretend the entire ordeal with the mimic didn’t affect him, but you all know the truth in that it did, and deeply at that. Woo had found him beneath the floorboards of the stable, in a dug-out hole where he’d been tied up and gagged, eye black and head bleeding from where the mimic had hit him over the head with a plank.

He was there with Aisha - the real Aisha, as it turned out the one you’d talked to and had attempted to lend you her home for the night had also been a mimic’s charade. She’d been down there for weeks.

As for the rest of her family… Well, there was a reason the stable smelled so terrible, like mule shit but somehow worse. After all, the smell of death is far worse, especially when the bodies have been rotting for almost a month.

Seonghwa had only been down there for a couple hours, but that was enough for fear to creep in. With the smell of corpses hanging in the air, Aisha endlessly sobbing next to him, and the knowledge that his mimic counterpart was wreaking havoc amongst the people he cares about most, it was enough to leave more than a minor impact.

Fortunately, it appears he sleeps better having someone to hold onto.

Looking down at him, you run a hand gently through his hair, bright blonde locks moving between your fingers. It must feel nice, as he mindlessly smiles against you, lips curving upwards against your skin.

You know it’s a dangerous line you’re walking here, as the inevitability of your betrayal quickly approaches. This is especially true considering your decision to leave them once they’ve guided you through the Burovian mountains, in hopes that Minho’s prophecy will never come to pass. You’ll find a way to repay them later, but you have to ensure your survival first.

And yet, you can’t bring yourself to push him away. It’s mostly due to the fact he needs the support, the closeness clearly having eased and soothed his mind. However, there also remains what you don’t want to admit is a hint of selfishness.

The self-centered fact that you enjoy being like this, not only due to the warmth provided with such intimate closeness, but rather because it’s with him.

You think that in another lifetime, in another world, you could let yourself fall for him.

When his eyelids flutter open, Seonghwa’s eyes are coated in a sleepy haze, and he blinks a few times as if to remember his surroundings.

“Hey,” you whisper, voice light, and he lets out a groan of annoyance, although his teeth glint in a toothy grin. Rolling you over, he throws an arm over your torso, pressing your back into his chest.

“Hey yourself,” he murmurs into your shoulder, voice raspy. “Let me sleep more.”

“The sun’s high, it’s probably almost noon,” you reply, shaking your head, although you make no move to get up. “I’m supposed to have sword-training with San.”

“I’m sure he’ll survive your absence just this once,” Seonghwa says, fingers grazing softly along the bare skin of your abdomen. “If he’s mad then he can duel me, I’ll get my ass-kicked in your place.”

Playfully shoving his hand away, you turn yourself back over to face him. “Yes, that’s the way to convince me to stay, make fun of me.”

“Are you saying I need to convince you some other way?” Seonghwa offers, hand suddenly trailing its way down past your abdomen. He raises an eyebrow, and you match the expression.

When he leans in, the kiss is firm. Not sweet and delicate in the sleepy-morning fashion, but more passionate than that. It begs a question, asks for permission.

You suppose if you’re already being selfish, a little more couldn’t hurt.

Pulling your lips from his, you can’t help but grin. “Alright,” you sigh, placing a hand on his shoulder, pressing him into you. “I guess I can be a little late just this once. Maybe San won’t notice.”

“You’re late,” San says, leaning against a tree with both arms crossed as you sprint down the forest trail, running as fast as you can while dragging your sword with you. Pulling up the sleeve of your jacket as it slips down from your shoulder, you do your best to appear put-together, although you're certain you look as if you just rolled out of bed, which isn’t so far from the truth.

“Sorry,” you say, leaning over to place both hands on your knees as you catch your breath. “I overslept.”

San does not look impressed, although the corner of his lip quirks upwards in amusement. “Right,” he says plainly, removing his shoulder from the tree. “Shall we start?”

No wasting time badgering or teasing you, just right down to business. You like that about him.

He gives you a smile as you shrug the jacket from your shoulders, stretching your arms out in front of you and cracking your knuckles to quickly warm-up. You return the expression, although neither of you speak.

There’s been a bit of a rift between the two of you since the mimic, or more specifically since he comforted you afterwards. Not exactly a negative rift, as neither of you are upset with the other, nor is it overly awkward as the two of you continue to spend time training alone.

It’s more as if a can of worms has been opened. He’s comforted you, cradled you, ran his fingers over your hair and whispered that everything would be alright. Meanwhile, you sobbed into chest, clenched onto his tunic, and made him stay that way for almost an hour.

It was incredibly vulnerable on your end, as well as unbelievably empathetic on his. Either way, it was intimate, and it hangs in the air every time the two of you are alone together. Neither of you have talked about it, and you aren’t sure if you even need to, but it’s there. Undoubtedly.

“Okay,” he says, picking up his sword from where it had been discarded on the ground. Rotating it around in his hand, he eventually extends the tip of the blade out towards you, cocking his head to the side. “Your move.”

And so the two of you spar.

You’ve vastly improved over the last few days. Somehow it seems the trials of the desert invigorated you rather than stunted your progress. A little time away from the sword seemed to be exactly what you needed to grow a longing for it, and over the last couple days the two of you have dueled every afternoon.

When you move it’s no longer awkward, the sword feeling more at home in your hands. San says you have quite the natural knack for it, although you’re just glad you can spar with him for more than a few seconds before being knocked over. You’re only up to a couple minutes, but any progress is progress.

Besides, San is good. You still haven’t seen him go full out, but Seonghwa has mentioned his astounding ability enough times that you can mostly imagine it. Even after the recent stab-wound to his shoulder, he moves with an unbridled swiftness, as if the sword is merely an extension of his arm. His casual ease causes something to stir within your chest. Envy, mixed with adoration.

San takes a particularly sudden strike towards the hilt of your blade, catching you off guard. He’s incredible at keeping on your toes, at not allowing you to get too comfortable. Every time you think you have him figured out, he changes tactics. He is a difficult teacher, but that is what makes him a good one.

The strike knocks you off balance, but you do not let yourself lose your footing entirely. Bringing up the sword to block another impending blow, your feet slide backwards into the dirt as he swings once more. Making sure to keep quick on your toes, you take another step back, and the pattern continues.

Moving away from the clearing, the two of you make your way down the forest path, San striking blow after blow as you do your best to block them. Each and every swing has power, and it takes everything in you not to falter, feeling as sweat begins to bead and trail down your forehead.

Breathing becomes ragged as you just barely defend yourself from his next swing, it’s becoming increasingly apparent that you won’t be able to keep this up much longer. You’ll need to change tactics, before you face yet another quick defeat at his hands.

Bringing your focus to his stature, you manage a rushed scan from head to toe, searching for any sort of weakness. Fortunately, you’re not rendered hopeless, as it’s almost immediately obvious how he does not properly defend his own balance. It’s one of the most recent things San taught you.

“The key to winning a duel lies within the defence,” San had said yesterday morning, extending a hand out to help you back on your feet, having just knocked you over. You scowled up at him, irritated, but he knew that you hung on every word, eager to get better.

“The one who wins is the one left standing, not who delivers the most damage. Protect and withhold your balance, then seize your opportunity as it presents itself. It’s that simple.”

However, San continues to strike blow after blow. While he’s practically drilling you into the ground, a clear test of your will and endurance, it’s left the balance in his footing shoddy.

He’s gotten cocky, you realize. He assumes you won’t notice, and you aren’t sure if you’re annoyed with him for doubting you, or proud of yourself for proving him wrong. Likely both.

It’s not until after his next strike that you seize your opportunity. When his own sword comes down onto yours, you almost cushion the blow, letting him knock your own weapon towards the ground. It doesn’t matter, you won’t be striking him with it, and he won’t have the opportunity to try again.

Letting the momentum of his strike knock you downwards, you crouch further onto your knees, although doing your best to keep your ankles stable and upright. His balance is a little off, not near enough to fall over, but he clearly hadn’t expected you to suddenly drop. Capitalizing on the miscalculation, you swing a leg out towards him in a sweeping motion. It’s a bit awkward, as well as stunted considering you’ve never tried the maneuver before, but it’s just sloppy enough to work.

Your own foot takes out both of San’s own, and he lets out a small grunt of surprise as he topples over, a tad panicked as he tosses his sword out beside him. You don’t understand why he wouldn’t at least try to hold onto it, but it becomes apparent the second you realize where exactly San is falling.

That is to say, directly on top of you.

Chest pressing against your own, your back sinks into the dirt as he falls down onto you, knocking the wind from your lungs. He manages to catch himself on his elbows before your heads collide, but the result is his face hovering just above yours.

His chest heaves up and down, attempting to catch his breath, and for a moment neither of you say anything.

Because his lips are less than an inch from your own.

You can smell his breath, the strong scent of rich coffee beans, a blend he’d purchased back in Stockholm. It’s hot against your lips, and you become increasingly aware of the way his waist is pressed firm against yours. His cheeks are flushed, mouth parted open as he breathes. Sweat glistens on his skin, a testament to the effort required in your sparring.

It causes something inside of you to stir, a strange pull within your chest, what you’d almost describe as longing.

Startled by the feeling, you finally manage to pull your gaze up from his lips, only to find that he is doing the same. When his good eye meets yours, he freezes, as if exposed. You swallow hard.

Then he shoves himself off of you.

Rolling over and quickly jumping to his feet, he doesn’t go to grab his sword but rather walks a solid few strides away, running a hand through his hair as he almost makes a point of not facing you.

“That was good!” He blurts out, and his voice is raspy, almost choked. “That was really good. You caught me off guard, I didn’t expect that.”

You don’t respond immediately, because frankly, you have no idea what to say. You can hardly wrap your head around what just happened. San, being so close. His lips being so close, but more so the fact that for a moment, you didn’t wish them to be further away.

“Thanks,” you manage, and this time it’s your voice that’s weak.

Another long moment passes where neither of you say anything. He still doesn’t look at you, although he does go and grab his sword, shoving it back in its sheath.

“That’s enough for today,” he says quickly. The two of you would typically continue for at least another hour, but you don’t even bother protesting. You’re well aware of why he’s ending this early, and you agree with the sentiment.

“Alright,” you reply, and San does not waste a minute before taking off back down the forest trail and towards your campsite. Where the rest of your group is. Where Woo is.

“Right,” you think, flopping back into the dirt, looking upwards to the cloudy grey sky. You can hear the first rumble of thunder in the distance, an indication of a coming storm. You didn’t think it would rain today. “Fuck.”

San does not go back to the campsite. Instead he jogs until you are officially out of sight, before turning into the forest and pressing his back against a tree. He attempts to catch his breath, although his lungs do not seem to cooperate, each new gulp of air as unsatisfying as the last.

Leaning his head against the coolness of the bark, he slides down until he’s sitting on the ground, knees drawn up in front of him.

“What the hell just happened?” He thinks to himself, bringing both of his hands to his temples, attempting to rub away the newfound headache that has plagued him. “And what the fuck is wrong with you?”

San thought he was doing rather well to ignore the weird tension that hung in the air between the two of you since the sand village. Since he comforted you, since he held you in his arms and you clung to him just as tightly.

He knew immediately that it made something inside of him rouse. While he didn’t understand it at first, over the last couple days he thinks he knows why it made him feel so strange, an odd sort of sensation that has settled in his chest.

In that moment, you not only wanted him, but you needed him. It’s been a long time since San has felt like he’s been needed.

Instead, he’s the one who’s been in need of someone a lot lately. Woo after Gloria, you during your time at The Desert Lotus, and Seonghwa afterwards. Even before then, before they ever met you and this journey to Kuroku began, he rarely felt like someone to confide in. Woo doesn’t seem to need nor seek much comfort from him beyond the physical, and Seonghwa has always been the one to grant empathy rather than seek it.

But you let him comfort you. You let him hold you and whisper that it would be alright, in fact you sought after it. He’d be a fool to lie and say it didn’t give him a taste of the intimacy he’s been craving.

But that was supposed to be it. He was supposed to leave behind that moment the second the two of you left Aisha’s house, and move forward. No sense in longing for things he cannot have, nor seeking them out in someone he does not truly love, nor loves him in return. He is not such a fool.

Until just now. Until he was on top of you, could taste your breath on his tongue and feel you beneath him. Your eyes looking up at him, chest heaving, mouth parted open expectantly.

Not love, but for a moment there was lust. Horrible, but undeniable lust.

The way your gaze held his lips, he knows you felt it too.

But you smelt of Seonghwa, such a sobering way to bring him back to reality. You do not belong in his mind, he has no right to even indulge in an unwanted moment of weakness. For the love of the gods, you’d just been with Seonghwa that morning! How would Seonghwa feel, if he knew what San was thinking right now?

Seonghwa, who he yearns for even more greatly, with not just lust but also true affection. Love, although he fears calling it that. He already has his head full of one person that does not belong there, he has no room for another.

Then there’s the other issue. Him.

The reality of if Woo was watching, what would he think? San doesn’t even have to ponder the question, he’s well aware of the answer. He knows he shouldn’t, as he owes Woo nothing - the elemental the one who refuses to commit to him, not the other way around - but all he feels is shame.

San runs his hands through his hair, trying to swallow down the bile that floods his tongue, although his throat feels far too tight.

What is wrong with him? His self-control used to be something he prided himself on, so when did he become so weak?

He sucks in another tight breath, rubbing his face in his hands. When he pulls them away, he decides he’s done with this.

There’s nothing wrong with him, because nothing happened. He doesn’t need to complicate this. You will be gone within a week’s time, and there’s no sense in granting these emotions - if you can even call them that - the light of day.

Rising to his feet, he turns back towards the campsite before his mind can convince him otherwise.

He tells himself it doesn’t matter, and he does not permit himself the opportunity to question whether or not that is true.

“I thought you said there was a inn around here!” Woo calls, forced to shout over the sound of the pounding rain surrounding you. He holds a small tarp over both his and San’s head, looking over his shoulder at Seonghwa, expression drawn into a scowl.

The empath sits in front of you, doing his best to control the reins of the horse as the animal whinnies in protest, equally as unimpressed with the downfall. You also hold a tarp above the two of you, although considering he’s a good deal taller than you it doesn’t work nearly as well, rain pouring down from its sides onto your already drenched tunic.

The thunder had transformed into a raging storm almost immediately, soaking your tents and causing the four of you to pack up your campsite in a whirlwind of panic. Desperate to avoid hypothermia from sleeping under soaping wet blankets, you managed to be on the horses and moving before anything got too damaged.

Only to be riding against the storm for almost an hour, miserably searching for an inn Seonghwa remembers visiting years ago after having left Maralya.

“There is!” Seonghwa shouts back, before muttering beneath his breath so that only you can hear. “...Somewhere.”

Your stomach drops. Your arms shake as you hold the tarp over your head, both from soreness as well as the bitter cold. The wind bites sharply against your wet skin, the chill settling within your bones. Teeth involuntarily chattering, the ends of your ears and nose are entirely numb. Although, you almost consider the numbness a blessing, as at least they don’t feel cold anymore.

You agree with Woo’s sentiment. You seriously need to find this inn, so lest you are forced to down Minho’s elixir that resides in your pocket in hopes that it allows you to somehow survive this endless, monstrous chill.

As if sensing both your cynicism and desperation, the god’s answer your fears in the form of a warm light that glows from further down the trail.

“Oh thank the gods,” Seonghwa breathes, before shouting upwards to Woo and San. “It’s just up ahead!”

The inn you approach is small, only big enough for what you assume is a handful of rooms for the few travelers making their way through the Burovian mountain pass. A quaint little brick building that’s warm light pours from its front windows, the sign simply reads: “Mountain Inn”.

Arriving in front of its doorstep, you untie your bags from the horses in a relentless hurry, throwing two satchels over your shoulder as Woo quickly grabs the reins of each of the horses. He leads them towards the stable stationed at the side of the inn, as you, San, and Seonghwa sprint through the open doorway.

Entering the inn is like being transported into a different climate, nearly a different world. The air is thick and warm, the fire from the furnace in the corner providing the place with a cozy feel. The front desk also doubles as a bar of sorts, tables scattered around the room.

It’s busier than you expected, multiple groups of travelers seeming to have fled here for the night. A few are as drenched as yourself, while others appear to have changed into a warm pair of clothing. Not many of them drink, but if they do it’s something warm.

“Want to grab a seat? We’ll see if they have any rooms left,” San says to you, motioning to the table in the far corner of the room. His voice remains calm, expression even settled into a smile as he looks at you.

You and San have been doing an excellent job of pretending the little incident during sword-training this morning never happened. And as far as you’re concerned, it did never happen.

It’s not like you have any sort of actual feelings towards the swordsman. You think he’s kind, compassionate and steady, but that doesn’t need to be romantic. He had just been so close. It had been hot and sweaty and both of you were breathing rather heavily, it was just a biological response. Nothing more.

You almost believe it.

Letting San and Seonghwa heckle the inn-keeper, you leave your two satchels with them before heading towards the corner of the room. Ringing some of the water from the sleeves of your tunic, it falls in a puddle beneath the table as you settle into a chair. Leaning your head against the wall, your eyes are falling shut before you even consider closing them.

You’re tired. And cold. And sore.

It’s been over a week since you slept on something other than a blanket on the ground, and if it weren’t for the way your body feels as if it’s physically shutting down in protest of the fact, you’d barely be able to contain your excitement.

You nearly nod off in your chair before you feel something drop down on the table in front of you.

“Here you are, dear,” a voice says from above you. Peeking an eye open, you’re greeted by a plump middle-aged woman with greying dark hair and small spectacles smiling down at you. Her voice is cheery as she slides whatever she’s placed on the table closer to you.

Looking down, it appears to be a drink of sorts. In a thick white mug, it’s a brown colour with a stick of cinnamon protruding from the top.

“Hot buttered rum,” she explains, taking your bewildered expression as being towards the drink. Well, technically it is toward the drink, but not because of it’s flavour.

“Oh, this must be a mistake,” you say, tone polite as you push it back towards her. “I didn’t order anything.”

“Of course not!” She exclaims, almost too jovial as she pushes it back. There’s a twinkle in her eye, her smile almost mischievous. “It’s courtesy of the handsome young fellow at the table over there.”

Following her finger as she points to the other end of the room, your gaze almost immediately locks with a man sitting at a table. He’s surrounded by a group of equally young men, with dark hair and light eyes. Dressed much warmer than yourself, he sports black gloves and a scarf that wraps around his neck, holding a mug in his hand. Based on the cinnamon stick emerging from the top, it’s the same as yours.

He is handsome, you can’t deny that.

“Ah, young love,” the lady sighs, placing a hand on her heart. She leans in closer, although she doesn’t bother to lower her voice. “They aren’t as spry as they get older. You should invite him over.”

You can practically feel the way your cheeks flush red with embarrassment. “I’ll take that into consideration, thank you.”

Appearing to have taken the hint, she gives you a wink before heading off and back behind the counter. Turning back towards the gifter of the drink, he continues to smile at you, before nodding the glass in your direction in a sort of long-distance “cheers”.

Out of politeness you return the gesture, although you do nothing more than that. Even if the borderline intrusive waitress has suggested you invite him over, you know that would be a horrible idea. Frankly, you have your hands full with the surplus of men already in your life, and flirting is something you don’t think you’ll ever have the luxury of again.

However, it appears the stranger reads your polite smile as an invitation, as he rises to his feet. Whispering something to the man beside him, his friend casts a glance at you from over his shoulder, before grinning and giving the black-haired man a pat on the back.

Casting a wary look behind the man as he approaches you, Seonghwa and San no longer appear to be at the front desk. Your bags are also gone, likely having been taken to your room by the two of them.

Good. You aren’t sure why, but something about the thought of Seonghwa or San thinking that you may be flirting with a stranger makes you feel a bit uneasy. You try not to fixate too much on that thought, the fact that you’re practically engaged to another man yet another issue they’re unaware of, but the relief remains all the same.

The handsome stranger stands in front of you, one gloved hand resting on the table as the other holds his mug. His expression is soft. “Hi. May I join you?”

“If you want to,” you reply, not wishing to be rude. Still, you don’t want to give him the wrong idea. “But I’m with some friends who will be back right away.”

“That’s fine,” he says through a chuckle, pulling out a chair and seating himself across from you. “I’m known to make a quick impression.”

A tad caught off guard by the brazenness of his tone, you don’t say anything in response, although you do offer a chuckle. The man’s gaze continues to watch you, light eyes flickering over your features. He smiles.

“Do you have a name?” He asks.

You take a sip of your drink before answering. “It’s Yeji,” you reply, and he hums to himself, as if mulling it over in his mind.

“Pretty,” he says, and maybe you’d be flattered if it was actually your name. “I’m Yeosang.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Yeosang.”

“Likewise.” He says, fingers tapping against the tabletop. He leans in a little closer, as if hoping to break past the barrier of awkward small-talk, moving towards something the faintest hint deeper. “So, what brings you to the Burovian mountains?”

You almost hesitate, but you’ve always been rather good at thinking on your feet. You’ve had to be, considering you’ve gotten this far with the present circumstances.

“Just traveling,” you say with ease. “Trying to see all of Burovia, figured the mountains would be important not to miss.”

He hums again, a small smile creeping its way onto the corners of his lips. “That’s a good call. The mountains are gorgeous, definitely worth tenting for a couple nights. I’d recommend South-Peak Point, if you want a good view.”

You smile at this. Of course you aren’t actually travelling for recreation and will not have the time to stop and search for any sort of view, no matter how mind-blowing it may be, but for a moment it’s fun to pretend. You always wanted to travel across Burovia, when you were naive and didn’t know how dangerous and gruelling the journey could be, but you suppose it wouldn’t hurt to play along.

“You sound like a well seasoned traveller,” you say, and Yeosang’s eyes gleam at this. He chuckles to himself.

“Something like that,” he laughs. “You’ll also want to hit all the major kingdoms. Zaria, Kuroku, Dildysus. I’d normally suggest Libaiya, but they’ve gotten into a bit of trouble recently.”

You know it shouldn’t, as he also listed the rest of the major kingdom’s prior, but something about your kingdom’s name tumbling from his lips sets you on edge. You shouldn’t be talking to strangers, even ones with kind eyes and clever tongues. You’re supposed to be laying low.

“I’ve heard,” you say shortly, hoping he’ll drop the subject, or that Seonghwa or San may come back to the table.

You almost laugh at how very true that is.

Even so, you have no interest in entertaining the topic any longer. “I’ll be heading to Zaria soon,” you lie, not wanting to give away your real destination, even if he doesn’t appear dangerous. Although, it does strike you as a bit strange for him to bring up the siege, considering it’s likely a heavy topic for many others beyond yourself.

“Long ways away,” he comments, lip quirking upwards. “I’d assume you’d try somewhere closer. Like, I don’t know…Kuroku?”

He says it with such ease and passivity that you know it’s likely nothing, but something about the way he watches you over the rim of the mug as he says the kingdom’s title makes you feel… uneasy. Paranoia, likely, but nonetheless you no longer wish to participate in the conversation.

“I’ve come from Kuroku,” you reply, perhaps a little too blunt. Glancing over his shoulder once more, neither San nor Seonghwa have returned, and you chew on the corner of your cheek, nervous. “Listen, my party should be here soon-”

“Yeosang!” A voice joyfully boasts from behind the man, placing a hand down atop his shoulder. “Are you planning on introducing us to your new friend over here?”

Looking up at the newcomer, he has bright red hair and full cheeks. He’s also not alone, accompanied by a couple of the other men that had been seated at Yeosang’s table.

You internally groan, as frankly, this is not the company you currently wish to indulge your time in. You’re exhausted, and the men appear to take your presence as a form of entertainment. One of them casts Yeosang a wink, the other’s practically swarming around your table.

“This is Yeji,” Yeosang says, extending a hand out towards you in display. “She’s taking a little trip across Burovia. Wanted to see the mountains.”

“Ah sure, sure,” one of the men leaning over the table comments. He turns to face you, lips pulled into a toothy grin. He’s missing one of his middle teeth. “If it’s Burovia you want to see, you’re in luck. We’re the brightest bunch you could’ve ran into.”

You can’t help but let a bit of your impatience slip, tone perhaps a little too sarcastic. “Oh, I’m sure.”

If the man takes offence, he doesn’t show it. Instead he laughs, a hearty sound from his gut. “You pick em’ well Yeosang, we could use some spunk in our group.”

You pause at the statement, this being the second comment he’s made alluding to you joining them. Surely he cannot be serious, as you have literally just met them and are doing nothing to hide the discomfort displayed in your expression.

There’s something a little too forward about these men. The man with the missing tooth stands a little too close to you, so that you can smell the thick stench of alcohol on his breath. The glances they exchange with one another makes a sense of unease settle in your stomach, and you have no interest in sticking around to find out whether or not he’s joking about you joining them.

You awkwardly pull your chair back and rise to your feet. “Listen, I have to go find my group. It was nice meeting you.”

You nod to Yeosang, prepared to leave the table and wander the inn’s hall until you stumble upon your room, but you're stopped as a hand grips your arm. Not tightly, but enough so that you can’t leave without yanking it free.

“C’mon, don’t leave so soon,” he says, giving you a soft smile that does not match the way his fingers clench around your wrist. The leather of his glove is cold against your skin. “You should at least let us show you the trail to South-Peak Point. Wouldn’t want you to get lost.”

You know it’s stupid considering you have no plans of going to see the view anyways, but the patronizing assumption that you couldn’t manage to find the trail on your own causes a flare of annoyance to light inside of you. You huff, letting out a laugh that holds little humour.

“Thanks, but I think I can handle it,” you say. You manage to pull your arm free, but Yeosang is quick to grab it again, and this time a little more firm as he speaks.

“Fine, just let me give you something first,” he says. You consider pulling your arm free in a message of denial, but you figure that’d be useless. If he’s suggesting leaving you alone, you may as well swallow your pride and see whatever it is that he wishes to show you.

Yeosang digs into his pocket with his free hand, pulling out a piece of paper. It’s coffee-stained, crumpled into a ball, and frankly a little gross, which is why you can’t help the disgusted grimace that settles over your features as he drops it into your extended hand.

Unraveling the ball, you’re quick to notice that there are words sketched in thick black ink, clearly mass-printed rather than hand-written. You stare at them.

You continue staring at them for several seconds, re-reading the title over and over again as your brain appears to have momentarily stopped working in order to comprehend them.

When it finally manages, your heart is the next thing to stop functioning, as it plummets down into your stomach with overwhelming dread.

WANTED: PRINCESS OF LIBAIYA.

Beneath that title, a drawing of you.

Clearly someone must have realized the sketch to be inaccurate, as it no longer looks so much like a stranger. Eyes and nose now having returned to their proper size and your hair its current length and texture, even without the details of your present scarring it’s quite obviously you.

And if it’s truly so obvious, it means that the hoard of men that have surrounded you are just as aware of the fact.

“Couldn’t have made it easy for us, could ya’ Princess?” The man with the missing tooth says from beside you, and your grip tightens around the paper, crumpling it between your fingers. Before you can contemplate the fear that ignites itself within your system, your feet are set in motion towards the door, a desperate attempt at escape.

Yeosang’s hand wraps around your wrist before you can make your exit. This time, it is not the coolness of his leather glove that greets you, but the warmth of his palm. Or better, the horrific scolding heat of his palm, as when his flesh touches your own it’s with a burning sensation that causes you to let out a scream of pain.

His right leather glove having been discarded on the table, you’re immediately struck with familiarity of the week prior, of Jay back in Gloria.

He’s a sadist, you realize, and if you believed you were in trouble before then you’re screwed now.

The other groups of people seated within the inn all falter at the sound of your scream, the bustle of the establishment coming to a studded halt as even the lady who brought you your drink stops pouring the pint of ale in her hand. However, while every eye in the rooms seems to have their attention brought to you, none of them seem too keen on lending a hand. Nobody wants to mess with a sadist, let alone with the large band of brutish ruffians that accompany him.

You want to be mad at them, but you cannot. You are a stranger, they don’t owe you anything. Frankly, you’re more than a little scared too.

“We’ve been hunting you for some time now,” Yeosang says through a laugh, eyes glinting with something that resembles mischief, but not as playful. Greed. “I’ve got to hand it to you, you’ve managed to keep a low profile. Well done.”

“Let go of me,” you spit through gritted teeth, doing your best to appear threatening, even if tears sting in your eyes from the way your flesh sizzles and steams.

He does let you tug your arm free, but only because he knows you aren’t going to try and make any sort of quick escape, as it’ll surely be rewarded with another scalding of your arm.

When Yeosang speaks, it’s to the men of his party, not you. “Let’s make our way back to Androndea, I think that’s where we last saw them.” It’s in reference to the black-clad men, you’re certain of it.

“What about the storm?” A voice interjects, although from which man of the party you cannot tell.

“Are you kidding?” Yeosang laughs, grin widening. “We just got 250,000 gold pieces richer. Who gives a shit about a little rain?”

“C’mon, Princess,” the man with the missing tooth says, placing his hands on your shoulder, grip uncomfortably firm. While his tone has remained mostly jovial despite the stakes of the situation, his voice suddenly lowers as he leans in, lips roughly an inch from your ear. “You don’t cooperate, we’ll kill you. We get the reward either way.”

And really, how can you possibly argue with that?

The man steers you forward so that you’re walking towards the exit, and your gaze darts back towards the rooms, hoping that either San or Seonghwa might have heard you scream and come to check what’s wrong. It doesn’t seem likely, as nobody appears from down the hallway, and the inn continues to remain so silent that you could hear a pin drop.

You consider letting out another scream for them to hear you, but the thought of Yeosang placing his hand over your mouth is quick to quelm the idea. You’ve grown rather fond of your lips over the years, and don’t have any particular interest in having them burnt off.

You’re running out of options, and something tells you that if you walk through the inn’s exit, you’re as good as dead.

“What’s going on here?”

Said by a voice from in front of you, your attention is brought to Woo as he stands with his arms crossed. Having returned from the stable, he looks pissed as his eyes flicker between the men that surround you, eyebrows drawn into a deep scowl.

Your initial reaction is immense relief. Things have been good between you and Woo since the night by the fire. A little awkward, considering without the constant arguing and general distaste between both of you, you’ve grown to realize that you don’t really know how to actually exist around one another. There’s still the occasional teasing and bickering, but overall moments alone have been quiet, although not horribly tense. He doesn’t hate you, and based on the way his face twists with both disgust and annoyance towards the men surrounding you, you’re certain that them dragging you out of the building isn’t something the elemental will let slide.

However, your secondary response to Woo’s appearance is overwhelming, horrible dread. These men, they know you. They know who you really are, and if Woo finds out who that is- especially considering what he’d told you by the fire - you’re more than fucked.

You’re dead.

Woo goes to reach for your arm, but the man with the missing tooth pulls you away from him, a little too roughly as you nearly lose your balance.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Woo asks, and his voice nearly sends a shiver down your spine. His tone isn’t necessarily violent, not loud or overly angry. It’s quiet, low. It’s a threat, but only if they make it to be.

Yet, Yeosang doesn’t treat it as such. “Fuck off,” he laughs, shouldering Woo out of his way, nodding for the men to follow him. None of them do. “We got her first, the reward’s ours.”

“Shit,” you think to yourself, the air in your lungs dissipating as if they’ve been squeezed. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Woo scowls at Yeosang. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t play stupid,” Yeosang laughs, rolling his eyes, lip curved upwards into a grin. His eyes glow a deep red hugh, as he likely still rides the high your pain has granted him. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“This is a member of my party,” Woo says through gritted teeth, patience clearly waning thin as his hand clenches in and out, the faintest of flames beginning to dance between his fingers. “I’d appreciate it if you'd let her go before this gets ugly.”

There’s a series of ooo’s let out from the men around you, pure mockery. It’s a challenge, and to your surprise Woo does not extend himself to meet it. Instead, his gaze turns to you, and he nods over towards the hallway where your room is. “Come on, Yeji. Let’s go.”

He doesn’t understand the stakes at play, or why these men are bugging you and toying with him. If he did, he’d know there’s not a chance in hell of them just letting you leave, of escaping this without any bloodshed.

You don’t know what to do, but you know that you have to do something. The jar that contains your lies is teetering at the edge of a cliff, a mere breeze enough to blow it over. You have to act now, before it is smashed beyond repair.

“Yeji, huh?” Yeosang says, mulling over the name as he glances over at you. Your current terror must read blatantly on your face, as his own eyes light up with something that resembles delight. He turns back to Woo, grinning. “You really don’t know, do you?”

“Woo- '' You start, trying to gain his attention - or better, take it away from Yeosang. You attempt to move towards him, but the man’s grip tightens around your shoulder, practically pulling you into him.

“Quit playing games,” Woo says, although you don’t miss the faintest hint of suspicion edging it’s way into his voice, as his gaze darts between Yeosang and your own. “Give her back.”

“You don’t even realize how precious the cargo is that you’ve been carrying,” Yeosang says, stepping a little closer to Woo. His grin is wicked, as he seeks to create pain and chaos in true sadist fashion. “You could have been rich, my friend.”

Woo’s scowl deepens, and his gaze falls on yours over Yeosang’s shoulder. “What is he talking about?” He asks, and his tone isn’t accusatory. Even though his gaze has become wary, words hesitant, he’s not angry with you.

Not yet. He will be.

“I…” You start, before trailing off. You should tell him, you know that. He’s going to know, is bound to realize, and that is only if you somehow manage to make it out of this alive. Maybe if the truth comes from you he’ll somehow grant you mercy.

But you can’t bring your lips to move. Out of fear of him abandoning you. Of in fury changing his mind and seeking the reward himself.

Or the most likely of options, being too terrified to see the utter betrayal that will read blatantly across his face.

Woo’s eyes narrow, lips drawing into a thin line as his gaze shifts back to Yeosang. “Let her go. I won’t ask again.”

Yeosang snickers at this, casting a mischievous glance back to both you and his party. “Quite the bodyguard you’ve acquired, haven’t you, Princess?” You wince at the pet-name that doubles as a title, not missing how Woo’s brows furrow even deeper.

Yeosang turns back towards Woo. His tongue slides along his teeth, almost serpent like, and he looks the elemental up and down. “And if I don’t, what then?”

“You don’t want to find out.”

There’s a tense moment as Woo stares down Yeosang, gaze refusing to budge. He doesn’t appear the slightest bit afraid, even though there remains about a dozen burly armed men before him. You wonder what it’s like, to be so sure of yourself. To be the master of such raw and unbridled power.

Then Yeosang reaches forward, grabbing Woo’s throat in his palm.

There’s a choked sound, followed by sizzling as Yeosang’s gift clearly takes Woo by surprise. Fortunately, for what Yeosang’s contains in one hidden gift, Woo matches him with his own.

There’s a flash of heat and light as a ball of flame ignites within the elemental’s hand, followed by a firm sideways swing as Woo’s fiery fist slams against the side of Yeosang’s head. It sends the sadist reeling, as he stumbles backwards. He clutches his scalp, which now sparks and burns from Woo’s flame.

The strike sends the inn into a frenzy, the men around you all unsheathing their own weapons, stalking towards the elemental. Woo’s gaze flickers between them, pupils darting back and forth as he appears to size up each opponent.

Then he begins.

Starting with a strong gust of air that blows two of the men approaching him off their feet, they tumble over the top of a table, landing on the ground behind it with a series of groans and a loud “thud”. Woo does not give them the chance to get up, as he sends another large blast of wind in their direction. The table slides backwards, horrifically fast as it traps them between it and the wall, accompanied by a sound that resembles the breaking of bones.

Turning to his next opponents - or better, victims, as it’s blatantly obvious they don’t stand a chance - both of his palms fill with flame. Throwing one ball of fire towards one of the men, it hits him square in the jaw, to which he lets out a wail of agony before clutching his face and falling to the ground.

Woo prepares the another flame, but it’s rendered unnecessary, as the other man’s expression floods with terror. Taking off past Woo, he sprints through the inn’s open door, towards cowardly safety. Woo chuckles, a low and unhumorous sound.

Yeosang swears under his breath, gaze darting between his deserted lackey and Woo. He turns to face you, before nodding to the man that continues to hold onto your shoulders.

The man with the missing tooth’s grip on you tightens, and he begins to drag you with him as he makes a break towards the door. Woo is currently preoccupied with two more of Yeosang’s men, clutching his fist as one of the kegs behind the counter explodes, the sheer pressure of the liquid enough for one of the men to go flying backwards. His head collides with the wall opposite to you with a sickening “crack”.

It makes your stomach twist, but you have greater matters at hand. Despite the way you fight desperately against the man’s grasp, he is massive, leaving zero possibility for you to outmatch him with raw strength. You need to be more tactical.

As you attempt to shout out for Woo, the man’s large hand flies over your mouth, ensuring that he remains under the radar as he continues his pursuit towards the exit. Yeosang already stands in the doorway, waving him forward.

They’re willing to desert their comrades, you realize. Leave them to suffer so long as they get their reward. If you thought they were greedy and sleazy before, you find them even more repulsive now.

The realization that if you don’t do something now, you’re likely not going to get the chance to do something ever sets in, and it causes you to consider your options. Your arms are rendered immobile due to the force of his grip, and your legs can’t cause much damage either as they’re mostly focused on remaining standing as the man rushes the two of you towards the doorway.

With all your limbs rendered useless, there aren’t many options available. Which is why you sink your teeth down onto one of his fingers that cover your mouth.

The sweat of his skin tastes salty on your tongue, and it takes everything in you not to gag as a strong metallic flavour soon follows suit. Instead of releasing his hand, you bite down even harder, so much so that you can feel the thin-ness of his bone between your teeth.

He mutters a shocked swear beneath his breath, wincing as he tears his hand free. It’s only a moment, but his grip on your shoulder relinquishes itself as he cradles his hand, glowering in disgust at the deep bite marks residing along his bloody finger.

You don’t waste the opportunity. Removing your sword from its sheath, you immediately settle into your defensive stance. San’s voice rings in your mind: Low on your knees, light on the balls of your feet, sword extended in both hands.

You do just that, and when the man finally brings his attention back over to you - arms extended to grab you, as if expecting you to have foolishly remained where he’d left you - his expression is one of surprise. It takes him a moment, but a crooked grin slowly creeps over lips before he reaches down to relinquish his own sword.

“Full of surprises, aren’t we, Princess?” He mocks, falling into his own defensive stance. It’s a tad sloppy, you note. He remains heavy on the heels of his feet, San would make him regret that immediately in training.

Before you can assess his technique any further, he’s on the move. Approaching you with a monstrous swing, both hands over his head as he brings his long-sword down upon your own, it takes all the strength you can muster to not drop the blade. Your wrists burn at the contact, but you don’t let yourself focus on the pain.

Upon striking you, the man takes a few seconds too long to raise his blade once more. He’s slow. San has always been fast. Even if the result is San’s swing’s not being as powerful, as the swordsman would put it, focusing too much on strength can quickly become a weakness.

And it does, as this time you're ready for his attack. When he brings the blade down again, instead of deflecting the strike you parry backwards, causing him to miss you entirely.

The man growls in frustration, followed by a stifled groan of pain as you swing your own blade out towards him, managing to nick his shoulder even as he attempts to dodge the swipe.

You grin, and it dawns on you that in this moment you’re out-wielding him. This is not San - of whom you know, who knows you in return and seeks to train rather than beat you - this is an actual opponent who strikes with a vengeance, a desire to win.

And yet, you are the one who’s winning, and it fills you with a sense of pride that you aren’t sure you’ve ever felt. A sense of passion, a desire for more.

Striking the man once again, this time your sword slices sharp against his cheek. Blood immediately drops from the wound near his eye like a red-stained tear. For a moment, he falters. Now should be his opportunity to attack, but he does not take it. Instead, he opts to fall back into his defensive stance, chewing on his bottom lip as his gaze darts upwards to meet yours.

He’s nervous. You smile.

You’re prepared to strike towards him again, already settling your sword into both of your hands to prepare another swing, but you don’t get the chance.

A hand grips around the back of your neck, and with it comes that familiar burning sting. You drop your sword.

“Quite the show,” Yeosang whispers as his fingers tighten around your neck, his nails digging into your burning skin as he pulls you behind him towards the door. “Let’s go.”

Scanning the room, you find Woo fighting with a tall and lanky fellow, who appears to be running from him more than actually sparring. San and Seonghwa also must have overheard the commotion during your sword fight, as they both have appeared and are dealing with their own opponents, San with his sword and Seonghwa with hand-to-hand combat. They are the only men left standing, the rest having either escaped or are crumpled against the floor.

Fortunately, while Yeosang’s grip is agonizing it does not render your lips useless as the man’s before him had.

“Woo!” You shout, breaking his attention from the man he has just finished throwing yet another ball of fire at, this one having landed true against his chest.

The elemental’s eyes widen when he sees you being pulled towards the door, and he does not hesitate for even a second before taking off after you.

When his fist connects with Yeosang’s nose, it is with no flame, just the sound of his raw knuckles cracking against the man’s face. Yeosang’s stumbles backwards with his hands cupped around his nose bridge, Woo following after him.

It’s with another swift punch that Yeosang crumbles to the ground. By the way he doesn’t move to get back up, you know he’s fallen unconscious.

You finally take the opportunity to catch your breath. There’s a moment shared in silence between both you and Woo, as you watch Yeosang breath in and out, eyelids fallen shut.

When Woo moves, it’s towards you. Hand wrapping around your wrist, he pulls you with him towards the door, before shouting over his shoulder to both Seonghwa and San. “Finish the job, we’ll be down the trail!”

Running as to not be dragged behind him, you pass by the inn’s owners on your way out. The other customers and the lady who’d given you the hot buttered rum hide behind the front desk, trembling in fear as they watch you with worried stares. You aren’t sure if they’re afraid of you, Woo, or whether your group will bring them more trouble before the night is over. Likely a mixture of them all.

Woo pulls you through the door, the two of you taking off down the trail. You jog for what you assume is ten minutes, and when he doesn’t stop, you realize that you aren’t sure where exactly you’re even going.

“Woo?” You ask. You aren’t able to see his face as he runs in front of you, expression shrouded in the storm’s shadow. It continues to downpour, the many droplets pounding heavily on your skin, filling you with a bitter cold as they soak through your tunic.

“Woo!” You try again when he doesn’t answer, forced to shout over the sound of the rain hitting the ground, pattering against the many puddles as the trail has already begun to flood. “Where are we going?”

It’s at this he finally lets go of you, stopping in his relentless pursuit. His gaze flies up and down the trail, searching if anyone had followed the two of you out. Once he realizes you're alone, he sighs, swallowing hard.

Then a sharp gust of wind blows you off your feet.

You tumble along the trail, mud splashing up and into your face as you roll along the dirt, knees burning as they scrape along the rocks beneath you. The force of the wind is great, and when you finally manage to stop rolling, you’re dizzy as you rise to your feet.

Even through the unsteadiness, you take off into the forest before you can consider otherwise. The realization of the danger you’re in has set in to your body, but not yet your mind. All you can think is run.

Twigs and rocks crunching beneath you along the forest floor, you fight against the mud threatening to suck you down, clawing at the bottoms of your shoes. You’re doing alright, until it’s one particularly thick patch of the wet dirt that takes hold of your boot, and you tumble down onto your forearms.

Attempting to immediately rise back up to your feet, it proves to be no use as the mud refuses to relinquish your ankle. You turn around, prepared to shed yourself of your boot if that is what permits you to escape.

Only to find that the mud is not only sucking you down, but crawling up your leg. It’s deep black sludge twisting around your calf, creeping its way upwards.

You attempt to pull your leg free, but it’s of no use, especially considering the mud has also begun to intrap your other ankle as well.

“No, no, no,” you whisper beneath your breath, panicked as your gaze shoots upwards. Woo makes his way towards you, clearly in no rush as his hand is extended out in front of him, fingers dancing as the mud’s pace begins to quicken. It engulfs both of your legs, and it’s only then you feel it begin to creep over and onto your wrists, the mud from other puddles within the forest approaching you in the form of large, worm-like beings.

A large echo of thunder rattles around you, not far off as the forest flashes with a strike of lightning. It casts light across Woo’s expression as he approaches, and his eyes are dark as he watches you through furrowed brows. Rain pours down upon him and his dark hair clings to his forehead, giving him a rugged look as he remains covered in the damp grime of the keg’s ale. His jaw is set firm, teeth clearly gritted beneath the tight line his lips are drawn into.

If looks could kill, you would already be dead.

Woo clenches his fist, and the lines of wet earth wrap firm around your wrists, while the mud that encompasses your feet suddenly launches you upwards. It’s as if you are standing, but a layer of mud continues to sit under your feet, trapping you as your back presses firm against a tree that sits behind you. Meanwhile, the mud around your wrists pulls your arms in opposite directions, like two ropes attached from opposite trees.

You know you can’t move. You don’t even bother to try.

Woo finally finds himself in front of you. His gaze bares into yours, and for a moment he doesn’t say anything. He doesn't have to, the rage that swirls within the darkness of his eyes already says enough.

When he finally does speak, his voice is quiet. It gives nothing away. No anger, no sadness. Nothing.

“Who are you?” He asks.

You know he heard them back at the inn, the men calling you Princess, the way they went on and on about how you were “precious cargo”. He knew about the reward since he found the poster back in Stockholm. Woo is smart, and based on the way his eyes bare through you, there’s no doubt he’s already put the two and two together. No sense in hiding any longer.

“I think you already know,” you answer.

Woo’s face contorts inwards on itself at the admission. All of his features - his eyebrows, his lips, his nose - squinching together, a look of overwhelming, crushing devastation. He looks upwards into the sky, as if to curse the god’s for where he has now found himself. His fists clench at his sides, and the mud tightens around your wrists and ankles, although you aren’t sure if it’s intentional.

“Shit,” he whispers, and it’s more broken than it is angry. He buries his face into his hands, and it appears as if he doesn’t know what to do with himself. The realization of it all hitting him in full force, the depth of your lie. How Seonghwa has gotten himself so deeply entangled with a fraud. How your father is dead and there is no money in Kuroku, meaning San could be as good as fucked.

How he completely unravelled himself for you, only to find it was your family that had tied all the knots in the first place.

“I’m sorry,” you say, even though you know it’s a meaningless, pathetic excuse for an apology. You don’t expect his forgiveness, you don’t deserve it. Perhaps that is why you do not try, as you do not wish for him to grant it.

Woo pulls his hands away and they fall down at his side. He does not look at you, instead his eyes remain trained up at the sky, the rain pounding endlessly across his face. He does not seem to care.

Woo swallows hard. Then he moves towards you.

Digging into his pocket, he pulls something out. As its cool metal presses against your throat, you’re quick to recognize it to be a knife. Based on the beautiful design fashioned on the hilt that you can see from the corner of your eye, it is the one from the day you met them, the one he’d taken from you before the scorpions.

You bet he wishes the beasts had finished the job.

“Don’t tell me you’re sorry,” he says lowly, and his eyes meet yours over the blade. He’s close enough that you can feel his breath on your skin, warm against the storm’s bitter cold, and it reminds you of back in the sand village. When he’d brought you into Aisha’s house’s narrow hallway and asked for your help, a testament towards his newly forming trust. A mistake.

His eyes are glossy, and when the tears begin to slip through it is not the same as it had been a few nights ago. Then he was nothing but vulnerable. His tears were sad, but they were of the gentle kind, the trusting kind.

These tears are just as raw, but they are born of nothing but fury, of hatred in its most pure form.

“You are a monster,” he says quietly. “You are no better than them. Jay, Warden, your father,” he spits the word out like a curse.

“At least they are honest about what they are,” he says through gritted teeth, practically seething as he stares daggers into your eyes. “At least they don't trick broken men into doing their bidding. At least they don’t hide behind pretty smiles and fake tears.”

You swallow hard, and you feel the knife against your throat as it bobs. When you speak it is choked and quiet, the blade not permitting anything more than that. “Do you want to know why?”

“You think I give a fuck why?” Woo says through a harsh laugh. “I don't care if you’re on death row, I don't care about what men are hunting you, I don't care what real business you have in Kuroku. I don’t care.”

He presses the knife further against your throat and you wince, the blade breaking past the first layer of skin. “You saw what San is dealing with. You saw how badly we need that fucking money, and you didn’t give a shit!”

You want to argue that you did care, that it has been eating you up inside since the confrontation in Gloria. That every spare moment in solitude has been devoured by guilt, wanting nothing more than to tell them the truth, but too afraid to take the chance given your reward.

You don’t tell him this, because Woo does not want to hear it. You do not blame him, he does not owe you the opportunity to plead your case. He owes you nothing.

“But of course you didn’t. Your whole cursed family doesn't care about anyone but themselves,” he continues, lips curling in disgust. “Were you laughing inside listening to what happened to me in your orphanages? Was it amusing for you?”

The accusation makes your chest ache, because no, of course not. His story was horrific, unlike anything you thought your father was capable of. It crushed you, and it continues to crush you still. It certainly is not something in which you find any sort of entertainment.

“I didn’t know about the orphanages Woo-” You start, desperate to have him aware of that fact, but he doesn’t let you finish.

“Like hell you didn’t know!” He cuts you off, and now he is yelling. His tone is higher than normal, as he fights off the tears that well in his eyes, voice breaking with emotion. “You think I'm actually going to believe that, after all of this?”

He shakes his head, and you can feel as his grip tightens around the hilt of the knife in his hand. “I should slit your throat right now.”

“You should,” you agree, simply because it is true. A tense moment of silence passes and Woo does not use the knife, nor does he pull it away. “So why don’t you?”

His answer is preceded by a pause, but when he speaks, it’s as if it should be obvious. “Because of them. The people you’ve used,” he spits, his breathing escalating as he struggles to control his anger. “Seonghwa is so far passed smitten for you, and San is too good of a person to agree to what you deserve.”

He presses the knife a little deeper. Not enough to kill, or even severely wound, but enough that it hurts. You swallow down a whine of pain, although tears sting in your eyes. When he speaks, his voice is low.

“I want you to understand that if it weren't for them, I would kill you where you stand. And I would enjoy it.”

“Woo? Yeji?” Someone calls from down the trail - Seonghwa, based on the accent - heading towards you as his voice becomes louder. Woo’s face twists even deeper into a scowl at the mention of your name. Your fake name.

“You guys?” You hear Seonghwa call again, before a series of footsteps head towards you. In the distance you can see as both he and San approach, your sword in San’s hand. “We saw your footsteps heading into the forest, what are you guys…”

Seonghwa trails off as he sees the two of you before him, the elaborate mud-prison that Woo has trapped you in certainly an alarming sight. Seonghwa’s eyebrows furrow together and he steps towards you, casting Woo a bewildered look.

“Woo, what the hell are you doing?” he asks. In response, Woo clenches his fist, and the mud comes tumbling down to the ground. You fall with it, knees burning as they crash against the forest underbrush. You don’t bother rising to your feet, your legs feeling too much as if they’ve turned into liquid to manage it.

“Ask her,” Woo spits, shoving the knife back into his pocket. When you don’t respond, your lips feeling too numb to make themselves move, his tone becomes even more furious. “Tell them what I’m doing.”

You want to, but your tongue suddenly feels like it’s swollen three times as large. Seonghwa looks at you with big, innocent and worried eyes. So genuinely and truly concerned for you. San’s expression is not as gentle, but it is equally as confused. He watches you with bewilderment, it does not appear to cross his mind that you have done something to wrong them.

Which is why you cannot bring yourself to speak, to tell them the truth of what you have done. How you have used them. How that while you will try to get the royal family in Kuroku to bring them wealth, there is no guarantee, as you are not even from their kingdom. Your name is not Yeji, you are not the girl you swore to be, the girl who they’ve grown to care about.

“A liar to the very end, huh?” Woo says, letting out a snort of disbelief. Turning away from you and towards both San and Seonghwa, his expression shifts from anger to sadness, as if realizing just how deeply this will hurt them.

Still, he is less of a coward than you are, and he does not hold himself back.

“She’s not from Kuroku,” he says plainly, one fist clenching at his side as the other points back towards you, accusatory. “She’s the Libaiyan Princess.”

Seonghwa’s eyebrows pull together, and he lets out a small laugh of confusion. “No she’s not,” he says, and from the lightness in his tone you can tell that he truly and whole-heartedly believes it.

When Woo says nothing in response, Seonghwa turns to you, as if expecting a rebuttal. A moment passes as he waits for you to deny the accusation, to exclaim that Woo is only joking, because surely he must be. Surely you would not do something so horrible, play them all as fools.

You watch the soft smile fall from his face as he realizes you are not going to.

“Yeji,” he says, followed by nothing, once again prompting you to deny it. He doesn’t want to believe it’s true, refuses to until the words come from your own mouth.

“Stop calling her that,” Woo interjects angrily. He’s not upset with Seonghwa, merely cannot stand to hear the lie fall off his tongue. “She’s not Yeji. It’s all been a lie. All of it. There’s no father in Kuroku. After all of this, there’s nothing for us. We’re as good as fucked.”

Woo whirls on you, gesturing to both himself and around him, to all those you have hurt beyond repair. “Congratulations,” he says. “You’re almost to Kuroku. I hope you got what you wanted.”

He’s storming back down the path before you can offer any sort of response, although you doubt you could have managed to say anything of value. Tears well in your eyes and fall silently down your cheeks, you cannot even bring yourself to sob. It feels as if your voice box has been hollowed out, losing even the mere ability to speak.

What could you possibly say to make it better? The answer is simple: there is nothing.

San watches you, mouth drawn into a tight line. His good eye flickers between you and the sword that rests in his hand. At first you do not understand what he’s looking at, but you soon realize that it’s the sapphire embedded in the hilt. Your mother’s sapphire.

A small, sad smile spreads over his lips. He shakes his head, as if disappointed, both in you and himself.

“Ah,” he says at the realization, setting the sword down on the ground in front of him. He gives you another glance, and you cannot understand his reaction. He does not cry, he does not scream, he does not do anything but smile sadly. “I should have known.”

He turns to run after Woo, and now it is just you and Seonghwa.

The blonde stares at you, and his face is almost blank. Lips only slightly down-turned, his eyes remain vacant. Empty.

Seonghwa is always so animated. Smile enough to brighten a room when he’s happy, teeth practically chattering when he’s worried, and eyes like broken saucers when he is sad. It is only now that you’ve ever seen him appear so hollow, and it is far more difficult to bear than the pain even his tears could bring you.

“Is it true?” He asks, and you nod.

He swallows hard, as if gulping down any and all emotion. His pain is something he’s never appeared to hide from you, vulnerability never a source of shame between the two of you. How quickly that has changed.

“How could you not tell me that?” He asks, and his tone is plain. Numb. “How could you go all this time keeping that from me?”

When you don’t respond, you can see the way his anger itches beneath his skin, bubbling up his throat as he once again gulps down more air. He wants to be angry, but he also so desperately wishes to understand. Understand how the girl he’s grown so fond of is nothing of who she truly is. “What, did you not think you could trust me like I trusted you?”

“I couldn’t take that risk, Seonghwa,” you say, almost pleading with him to understand. You hate the way he’s looking at you, eyes so vacant, as if you are a stranger. It’s unfair of you to wish otherwise, it’s true. “I couldn’t let my guard down, not with such a high reward on my head.”

“You couldn’t let your guard down but you could sleep with me,” Seonghwa interjects, and there it is. Plain, harsh, but also complete and utter fact. “Did any of that mean anything to you? Or were you just playing with my head so I wouldn’t suspect anything?”

“Of course it meant something to me, Hwa-”

“Stop,” he whispers, lips pursing together. His gaze shifts to the ground, as if he cannot bear to look at you any longer. “Guilt, regret, and desperation.”

When he doesn’t elaborate, you ask what he means through a sob. Your body finally permits you to cry, and as the tears fall your entire being shakes, from your chest to your very soul.

“That night in Stockholm, those are the emotions I took from you,” he explains, his own throat tightening as his voice becomes raspy, the words difficult to get out. “If only I knew what they were really from. I thought I was being kind, not pressing you any further, turns out I was just a fool.”

“You weren’t a fool-”

“Oh, I am,” he cuts you off, lips pursing together. He finally looks at you, and his eyes have begun to glisten, rimmed with tears he does not let fall. “I am because even now I hate to see you cry.”

He shakes his head, before turning around. When he speaks, he does not face you. “I suggest you stay here for a while, Woo will need some time to cool off. If you’re really the princess, I’m sure your business in Kuroku is a royal affair. If that means there’s a way you can get San the money, come back. If there’s not…”

He trails off, gaze drifting to your sword on the ground, he sighs. “If there’s not then don’t bother.”

Seonghwa leaves and you are alone.

The night’s darkness cascading down upon you in tune with the pouring rain, you remain on your knees, fingers digging into the mud as you clench it within your hands.

You almost wish it would come alive once more, that Woo would come back, even if it was simply to scream at you. To berate you for your lies, for what you have done. At least then he is here, and you are not alone. Even if you have destroyed everything, they are all still with you.

But he is not here. None of them are.

Minho’s words from a week prior ring in your mind like an unwelcome tune: “They will discover your lies, and it will change everything.”

A sob erupts from your throat as you know that it already has.

~~~~~~~~

next chapter.

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honeystwiggypeach · 2 years

Text

Memories kept in Polaroids

Dad!Eddie Munson x Mom!Reader

Dad!Eddie masterlist!!

Tw light cursing, Eddie being really afraid to loose his memories(it’s like those irrational anxiety fears, not because it runs in his family or anything!), Eddie taking photos for Lucille, Eddie cries.

This was a request by~ @theshinyrock who asked if I could talk about Eddie taking Polaroids for Lucille to have in the future, so credit to them for the idea!!

Since the beginning you knew Eddie liked to keep little photos of everything he thought was important in a shoe box underneath his bed tucked behind some random shit he had shoved under his bed trying to keep it hidden so no one could call his precious memories cheesy.

One of Eddie’s biggest fears was that one day he would wake up and suddenly not remember any of his favorite memories with his loved ones, so to assure himself that would never happen he decided to take photos of those moments, he convinced himself he couldn’t forget if he had proof that those moments existed. Gradually though, he began to get over his fear with help of his family and friends telling him that even if that somehow happened they wouldn’t mind recounting anything he’d ask for, so his reasons for taking photos changed when you fell pregnant with Lucille.

He wanted to capture every moment for Lucille especially the milestones he knows she can’t remember. So he began when your bump was finally visible. He’d take a few photos and the angles were awkward and most of the time you could see your face, you were always giggling when he’d take the photos. His tongue would stick out his mouth in concentration and his eyebrows would furrow and your favorite part was when after he’d let the photos develop he’d run to grab a sharpie and scrawl down the date and what was happening in the photo, one of the first photos and your favorites saying, “Lucille this is your mommy laughing at me!!” Like a letter addressed to her.

Once Lucille had been born Eddie was in her face taking a photo before pulling a sharpie from his pocket writing the date and time, “Lucy, your cries were very loud!” On the back.

The first time she goes home, “welcome home angel”

Her first smile Eddie has a photo of, “your first little smile!”

Her first time meeting her extended family, “your first family reunion, Lucy!”

Her first time trying baby food, “it sounded yucky”

The first time she used the couch to walk, “you grow more and more every time I close my eyes” one of your favorites.

You can remember how teary eyed Eddie got when he wrote it. He had gotten a few tears on the photo making the ink warp and it only made his tears worse.

“Baby, she’s growing up to fast.” He whined into your neck when Lucille crawled over tugging on his pant leg babbling away at him, “dada” she plopped herself down on her bottom as both you and Eddie stared at her wide eyed before Eddie scrambled for the camera.

“Your first word was Dada!” On the back.

Eddie never wanted to miss a moment in her life, always having something to remember the moments by wether for him or her.

Tags~ @miracleboysel , @jessyballet

#reader insert #x reader #st4 #eddie munson st4 #Eddie Munson #eddie munson x reader #dad!eddie munson x reader #dad!eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n

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dyns33 · 1 year

Text

The Ending

Last Morpheus x Hob!Reader. A bit hard to read, and with spoilers from the comics, careful.

Y/N Y/L/N couldn't die.

Not if she didn't want to.

Lord Morpheus repeated this to himself over and over as he continued to search for her everywhere. He refused to think that his sister might have changed her mind or that his immortal lover might have decided to leave without telling him.

Something else must have happened, and though it might be horrible, Dream told himself that he would find her, that she would be alive, and that he would help her get better, for as long as necessary.

She had told him about her long life, he had seen some of her nightmares. Y/N had experienced a lot of things, she was strong, smart. Everything would end well.

Her disappearance dated back to a few days now. If he hadn't learned to control his rage, Lord Morpheus would have punished Johanna Constantine for causing all this trouble. She had come to seek the help of Y/N and Hob for a dangerous mission, thinking that it would be better to be accompanied by people who could not die.

There are fates worse than death, Dream had once told Robert. You can be injured or captured.

It had happened to him soon after, like a premonition, and now Y/N might be stuck somewhere. Maybe she was being tortured, and if he didn't move fast enough, if she lost hope, then she might call his sister to end her suffering.

But no, she couldn't die, he refused that.

Despite his best efforts, traveling the waking world and dreams, dispatching Matthew and his most loyal subjects, he was unable to find her.

The Hecate didn't give him any help, answering with riddles and mocking him. Lost, he did something he hadn't even thought of doing when he was captured : he called his family. It wasn't as helpful as he would have hoped.

As always, Destiny couldn't do anything, saying whatever was supposed to happen would happen.

Death only reassured him, promising him that Y/N had not contacted her, and that if she did, she would take him with her to save his beloved. She looked strange, but said nothing.

Destruction didn't answer.

The twins were a little surprised by his request, savoring this moment, happy to see him so weak in their domains, desperate and in love.

"We'd be willing to help you just because we pity you and you finally seem to realize you're no better than us..." Desire began.

"... But we can't do anything for you. An ancient magic seems to have taken your lover." continued Despair. "She's too far from us. Sorry."

It was out of sheer politeness, knowing how susceptible she could be, that Dream went to Delirium. Poor Delirium, his youngest sister would probably not achieve more than the others had already done.

She jumped up when she saw him, saying that she had missed him, before saying a lot of nonsense, but listening all the same to the reason for his coming. Delirium looked serious for a moment, thinking hard, before jumping up again.

"I dON't KnOw wheRe Y/N Is. BUt I knOw whO I CAn Ask !"

"Come find me if your friend brings news." sighed Morpheus who wasn't really listening.

"He'S nOt MY fRIenD, BUt OkAY !"

A few hours later, someone showed up at the gate of the realm, and Matthew flew as quickly as possible to his master to tell him that Y/N had returned.

In an instant, Dream appeared beside her, hugging her, asking her if she was hurt, wiping the tears from her cheeks, touching her bloody hands.

"... I'm fine." she whispered without looking at him.

"Obviously not. If those who hurt you are not dead yet, I will find them and lock them in an eternal nightmare."

"Forget it, Morpheus. I don't want to talk about it."

"I cannot leave unpunished those who have dared..."

"Nobody hurt me." Y/N said more firmly, but still avoiding his gaze. "It's not my blood. I lost myself, in limbos. It was impossible to find my way, I was alone, and I was afraid of arriving in hell, or of dying without doing it on purpose. Then he... I do not want to talk about it."

"He ? Who is he ?"

Y/N initially refused to answer, continuing to cry, before falling to her knees and beginning to ask his forgiveness, as if she had committed a crime. The pleas came next, her love saying that she would understand that he hated her, that he never wanted to see her again, but that she had no choice. She was shaking, as if she was afraid of him.

"He asked me... He was so tired, so kind. His voice... His voice..." she sobbed, taking Morpheus's hands. "He had such a beautiful voice."

Then Dream understood. And after having focused his attention only on Y/N, he contemplated the universe and whispered the name of his son who was no longer there. That was what his sister had hidden from him. What his brother had meant.

Y/N was alive, and Orpheus was dead.

Delirium had had the idea of going to ask her nephew for help. She had never thought of it before, but he was a oracle, so he knew everything, and he didn't have to keep quiet like their big brother. She wanted to ask him where her dear other brother Destruction was, but Orpheus had smiled, saying that his uncle didn't want to be found, that there was more important matters to deal with at the moment, and that he wouldn't be here afterwards.

Using his link with the Limbos where he had lost Eurycype, he had found Y/N and he had guided her to the exit. He had, however, asked her for a favor.

"He said he wanted to join his wife. He couldn't stay like that anymore. He was already dead, or almost. He was staying for his mother, and you, even if he was convinced that you didn't love him anymore and that you would never come back to see him. He would have wanted to see you, and at the same time, he was afraid. Afraid that you would reject him, or that you would accept his request. He knew the rules, he knew what he would happen to you if you released him, so... He asked me. I didn't want to do it. I said there had to be a solution. I didn't want you to hate me."

"My love..."

"He said it would be fine. That you would understand. He sang to calm me down. A lullaby you made for him. It was beautiful. Oh, Morpheus, it was beautiful. Forgive me."

Unable to speak, he took her in his arms. His son was right, he didn't hate Y/N. He would never hate her, he was glad she was back, that she wasn't hurt. Yes, Orpheus was long dead, though none of them wanted to accept it.

"My love..." he whispered again, continuing to rock her, trying to calm her crying, as he had done with this little baby that Calliope had given him. "There is nothing to forgive. You granted his wish, you did nothing wrong. You gave my child peace, something I could never have done. I wanted him to live, I was not here for him. At least he's with his wife now. He's happy."

Y/N continued to cry and apologize for several hours, hugging him and letting him kiss her until she was too exhausted to move.

It was not necessary to warn anyone. Once his partner was calmer, although still feeling guilty despite all his reassuring words, the family came.

Morpheus was afraid that they would be violent towards Y/N, that they would insult her, curse her, try to kill her.

The meeting was very strange.

Destiny didn't speak much, only repeating that what had to happen had happened. He quickly added that the other option would have been difficult, for everyone. Death hugged his brother, then Y/N, without saying anything, because it was not necessary. Destruction did not come.

The three youngest were the most surprising. Very serious, very solemn. Despair offered her condolences. Delirium apologized if she had made a mistake. Desire remained in a corner. It wasn't time for teasing, but none of them were mad at Y/N. Their nephew had been on the borders of their domains for too long, it was good that he was free.

Calliope arrived last, calm and serene, but with tears streaming down her cheeks. By stupid reflex, Morpheus stood in front of Y/N, but the muse smiled sadly at him, before passing and taking his companion's hand.

"Thank you." she said. "Thank you for helping my son."

Not considering that she had helped him, Y/N just nodded trying not to cry again. She couldn't, and Morpheus took her back to their room as soon as everyone had left.

Of course, there remained the dreams and nightmares, curious and worried, who wanted to check that everything was alright for their creator, but also for his lover. They all adored Y/N, they didn't like to see her so sad, but above all, they wondered if their master might not blame her for what had happened.

"I do not understand what you mean."

"Well... She... She killed your son, boss." muttered the raven as if he had just said an insult. "Yeah, he asked her, and she's sorry, and I understand, but… You might be upset, and angry."

"I am not."

"Not even a little ?"

"I'm not saying that the loss of my son doesn't cause me any pain. But Y/N is safe and sound thanks to him, and I've only felt joy since her return." he said, stroking the hair of the immortal, who was starting to wake up. "Excuse me, Matthew, but I don't want to leave her alone during this moment. I'll join her in the Waking World, tell Lucienne to watch over the realm while I'm gone."

"Yes, boss. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. If anyone is responsible, it's me. I had minimized my son's suffering. If Y/N had died today... Maybe I would have gone to hell for her. My sister would have laughed at me, saying that I was selfish. I could have helped him, I didn't. My brother is right, things happened as they were supposed to , and now I have to follow my own advice. Accept that he's gone, and savor every moment with Y/N, my Y/N, that he brought back to me."

The raven refrained from answering. He wasn't really satisfied, but he couldn't do anything. It wasn't a nice ending, like in the fairy tales, but it wasn't a bad ending either. Life like stories, their master well knew, did not always have happy endings. They had endings. And if in his Y/N was at his side, that was enough.

#Sandman #dream of the endless #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless imagine #dream of the endless fanfiction #morpheus #morpheus x reader #morpheus fanfiction #morpheus imagine

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fanficwritersworld · 11 months

Text

Adding Smoak To Fire

Summary: After being injured, Bart finally does something that makes his sister happy.

Pairing: Nora West-Allen x Mia Smoak x Fem!Reader

Requested: by this anon. Hope you like it.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: a bit of angst and fluff

Masterlist|Prompt List

“XS!” you screamed.

Nora turned to see you being held in the air. Whoever was holding you had been able to fight against your powers. “(H/N)!” Nora screamed. She needed to run. She had to save you.

But not even a speedster can save everyone.

Nora can’t remember coming back to STAR Labs. All she could recall was you. Your screams as the criminal stabbed you. Your blood was on her hands when she finally got to you. Your paling skin. Your eyes open and close.

She couldn’t hear Caitlin’s orders, Cisco or Chester’s rapid thinking about how your powers might react to the injury, her mother’s soft pleas to have her change. Nora could barely feel her little brother gently grab her arm.

“Nora!” Bart whisper-shouted as he brought her to the time vault. “Wh–” Bart pulled his sister close to him, shushing her sobs. “Listen to me, I’m gonna go and get Mia. You need to clean up and stay with Mom” Bart told her.

He knew his older sister better than most. Bart knew that until you woke up or Mia gets to you both, Nora would be stuck in a daze for who knows how long.

Nora only nodded before Bart informed his father and mother on what to do and then he ran into the pipeline to travel home and get Mia here fast.

Iris helped Nora change and clean her hands of your blood, trying to talk to her daughter. All she was given was silence, watching the tears gather in her eyes before wiping them with the back of her hand and letting the cycle continue.

Once Caitlin was able to stop the bleeding and get some blood, donated by Allegra who was the only match to your blood type, Barry brought Nora into the room with a chair that was as close as he could get it.

After half an hour, Bart returned. Mia took a moment before hurling her stomach into a trash can. Bart went to pull her hair back before Mia caught his hand stopping him. She took a moment before looking at the boy.

"Where are my girls?" Mia asked, her toe as sharp as a blade. Caitlin ushered her to the room you were in. Mia went straight to you and Nora. She took Nora's free hand, her fingers caressing her knuckles out of instinct and her other hand went to lay under the palm of your hand that Nora held.

"I… I wasn't fast enough" Nora choked, turning to Mia. The blonde crushed down, her arm wrapping around Nora's shoulders. "Hey, baby look at me" Mia whispered "You did everything you could okay? We still love you just as much and nothing is ever gonna change that".

Nora pressed her head against Mia's and sighed as they both looked at you. "It's just a waiting game now"

You felt your eyes open only to shut them again. Stupid lights. You waited a moment before opening them slowly. After adjusting to the light, you turned to the weight on your hand.

Your girlfriends sat next to each other, both holding your hand as they slept beside you. "My favourite future sister-in-law! Great to see you awake" Bart whispered from across the room. You only rolled your eyes at him.

"Bart" you smiled as he walked over to you. "You took a hit for little ol' m" Bart gushed, hand over his heart in the most dramatic way imaginable. Family Trait. "Yeah, I'll take a pass next time. It's exhausting saving your ass" You groaned, rolling your eyes at the boy.

Bart mocked a gasp, falling back onto the floor. The both of you let out a quiet laugh, careful not to wake up your girls. "Seeing as you owe me one Allen. Maybe you can help me out" You wiggled your eyebrows.

"Only if you never do that again"

When Mia's eyes opened, her head went from zero to a hundred when she didn't see you on the hospital bed. "Babe!" She shouted looking around for you and waking Nora in the process. "W… What?" Nora groaned, looking around stupidly without reason.

"Darlings, I'm okay" You cooed, sitting in the iconic Wellsobard wheelchair you had heard so much about. Mia felt a weight on her shoulders lift as she walked over to you. "You had us so worried Bow” Mia cooed, kissing your cheek. You smiled at her, placing your hand on her cheek. “I have the most amazing girlfriends in the universe. I’m not letting anyone take me away from you” You looked at Nora, holding your free hand out.

The guilt on your sweet thundercloud was heartbreaking. “Thundercloud… come here baby” You encouraged her. Nora holds your hand, tears falling from her face. “I’m so sorry” Nora cried at you, her guilt too much to bare. With Mia’s help, you stood up slowly, hugging her with all the strength you had. “None of this was your fault, my love, I chose to be like you two, my arrow and thundercloud. We are in this together, until the sun stops shining” You told them both, a soft smile on your face.

“We love you so much Lightning” Nora sniffled, wrapping her arms around you and Mia. “I love you both two, now wheel me to the bubble room” You cheered softly, falling back into the wheelchair.

Nora and Mia wheeled you into the time vault. Their eyes lit up as they noticed the blankets and fairy lights strung around the room. “(Y/N) You didn’t!” Mia exclaimed, slightly angry that the girl went to this trouble. “Nah, Bart helped me out. This is the first time in ages we’ve been in the same time period with you two helping your Dads. I just want a night date with my girlfriends without some speedster or ninja getting in the way” You told them.

The two heroes kissed your cheeks, helping to the beanbags on the floor. “Okay then, what movie shall we watch first?” Mia asked you, falling right next to you. “I’ll get the snacks” Nora beamed, using her speed to leave her girls only to come back with bags of your favourites.

“My favourite girls” You smiled

#nora west allen x reader #nora west allen imagine #nora west allen #mia smoak x reader #mia smoak imagine #nora west allen x mia smoak x reader #the flash imagine #poly couple stans

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sushis-wild-imagination · 2 years

Text

Lean On Me

SeungCheol x Reader

PS: Listening to Lean on me while you read this will KILL you.

Seventeen masterlist <3

Even if we don't know

When our last will be

If by chance something happens

And we aren't able to see each other

"Do you want to get married?" he asks looking at you.

The wind was blowing in your face, you could smell the salty water. It was his his day off work and you decided to sneak away to spend a day together at the beach. You had a cute picnic at the beach. He would occasionally brush the hair pieces falling on your face and tuck them behind your ear lovingly.

You giggle at his question. "I love you, but I don't think it's the best idea to marry someone who is going to die in a couple of months." You say smiling warmly at him.

You spent your days wisely. It took you too long to come to terms with your illness. It slowly ate away at you. You were diagnosed 3 years ago, but you stopped responding to treatment a year ago.

Between all this, you met Seungcheol.

When you finally came to terms with your death, you met him. You were a make up artist with an agency and you got substituted one day for a colleague who was on maternity leave for a couple of months. You worked with Seventeen and got surprisingly close with Seventeen, especially Seungcheol. You became fast friends because of your personalities being very complimentary. He really was your sunshine in the darkest days.

You still remember the weeks he was trying so hard to win you over, but you could never get yourself to tell him why you were so distant and why you were cold. It was because you had to be. You got into a fight one rainy day, you remember him begging you for a reason why you won’t give him a chance because he was already so in love with you. You had also fallen for him, head over heels, but you couldn’t let him love you for a couple years and leave him possibly traumatised. It made you feel too guilty. When you finally told him, he broke down and kept repeating how it didn’t matter to him, he would spend every second of your remaining life with you, by your side.

You remember that one day, your doctor said your body isn’t responding to the treatment anymore. You pretended to be strong but you were so terrified of dying. One might think if you keep hearing that you’re going to die soon, you accept death. But it still absolutely scared you that you could go to sleep one day and never wake up again.

You remember that afternoon, you were so tired but you couldn’t stop sobbing because of how scared you were. Seungcheol didn’t know what to do or say, it was such a tough spot. He just held you while you broke down on the kitchen floor.

He would often go up to his members and get very real about someone he loves, slowly dying, right front of his eyes and not being able to do anything to help.

"I brought you a ring, we can be fiancés"

"What?" your eyes widen to immediately turn to look at him. He was digging his jacket pocket and pulls out a small velvet box.

“Happy one year, baby” he says and opens it for you. This makes you sit up right with both hands on your mouth. You were in awe. It was such a pretty ring, you didn’t even want to accept it.

“Why’d you do that?” You ask as he pulls your hand to him gently to put the ring on.

“I wanted to”, he said confidently and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You melt into the gesture. There were two rings in the box. He handed you the second one and held up his hand. You giggle and slide that on his finger.

Your head lands on his shoulder to rest. It was a long day, it was the happiest day in a while.

Your head leans toward my shoulder

The fact that I'm

Your momentary respite

You make me forget

You stick your hand out to see the ring. “Its very pretty, thank you” you whisper, but you’re sure he heard. Whatever did you do to deserve this boy.

Part of you was angry, that you can’t image a future with him, where you actually live your life out, have the best lives, get married, start a family, watch your children grow old, be in love with him forever, no matter how hard it gets. You gave up on those dreams when you were diagnosed but you never knew, Seungcheol would revive all of those desires again. It frustrated you.

“I’m sorry” you tell him, still leaning on his shoulder.

“Why are you sorry?” He asks playing with your fingers with your hand in his lap sitting side by side on the sand.

You were sorry that you can’t be with him for the rest of his life. But he was with you for the rest of yours. You were sorry he would have to feel loss because you would just not be here one day. You were sorry you were abandoning him. You were sorry you can’t give him a future he deserves. You were sorry you made him love an ill person.

“Just because” you say as you stare out at the ocean.

“Why?” He gently tears away from you and makes you look at him with his hand slipping on your face.

You didn’t like him looking at you anymore, you had become weak and pale and lost a lot of weight, you were losing to this illness and you hated that he was seeing you this way.

“I’m just sorry” you couldn’t meet his eyes.

“That’s what I’m asking”

“I feel like I’m abandoning you” you shrug feeling a bit awkward about coming clean. You lock fingers with him while his thumbs rubs over your hand.

I’ll be there

I'm always there inside your heart

And when it gets tough for both of us, even more

I'll be with you, my girl

“You’ll always be in my heart, y/n, wherever I am, you’re with me, I’m going to believe that” he says suddenly becoming very cheesy. It makes you blush.

“You can always come to me if things are too heavy, I’m here for you, quite literally, I will carry you” he jokes to lighten the mood and make you laugh.

He knows, you both know, its the last leg of this illness. The time is ticking and there is not enough time to do everything you want to do. But this moment right now was enough for you to forget that.

Come to me

I know that it’s so hard

I'm the same as you, yeah

I know that it's hard, I know it well, I know

Look at one another

And walk slowly towards me, one step at a time

“You’ve given me a lot of strength, I know I wouldn’t be able to thank you enough, but you’ve made my last year of my life very special” you tell him very truthfully.

“Until then, see you in the next life” you salute him like you’re some soldier off to war, that makes him chuckle and he salutes back. It was a running joke between the two, you would randomly do army skits where you're the lieutenant and he's a soldier under you. You would randomly make him do push ups in the middle of the room as a joke.

“You’re stuck with me” he says and you nod.

“Aah, what can I do about it, seems like there’s no way out” you say trying to act disappointed while he threatens to tickle you.

“What did you say?” And the tickling hands come out , while you try to get away from him.

The tickle threat died down and he settled his head on your lap and got comfortable laying down.

“Isn't the sand too hot?” You ask him as half his big body was outside the beach towel you brought with you.

“I’m comfortable” he says and snuggles into your belly to keep his eyes from the sun. You rest your palm on his face softly stroking his cheek.

“I like right now a lot” he says crossing his hands over his chest and turning his head and body towards you.

“I think I’m gonna fall asleep”

That was enough to make you forget.

——————

I DONT KNOW sorry I made this song so sad. Im such a sucker for major character death plots, idek why.

#svt #svt fanfic #svt seungcheol #svt scenarios #seventeen #seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #scoups #scoups x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #caratland #carat #carats #idol!reader #idol x reader

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4townie · 3 months

Text

Road to 4☆TOWN

part 31

“Have either of you seen my phone?” Taeyoung asked. “I’d check my other pocket but my arm is asleep for some reason.”

“Your arm’s not the only thing that’s asleep.” T smirked at him.

“What does that even—” Taeyoung paused when he noticed Olivia was fast asleep on his shoulder. “Awwww, how precious.”

“It’s not that precious.” Z crossed his arms. “I guarantee she’s not even really sleeping.”

“Oh, quit being such a jerk to her all the time. She’s probably tired from that dance party we had.” Taeyoung nudged him with his free arm. “Besides, I bet you’re just jealous since she found someone else’s shoulder to sleep on.” He grinned mischievously.

“I AM NOT—” Z hesitated. “Okay, I’m a little jealous, but that’s not the point!”

“I think it’s cute how you two are like buddies.” T smiled at them. “I mean, you’re a lot cuter when you’re not plotting against us, but still. I just wanna pinch your guys’ cheeks all the time.”

“Yeah, that’s the point.” Taeyoung said with a bit of pride. “It is nice to have someone looking up to me for a change. I think I’m starting to understand why you stuck around me all the time even though my parents weren’t paying you to look out for me.” He smiled at Olivia as she slept. “It’s special having a small, feral creature cling to you. You kinda just wanna prot—” He froze, eyes wide. “Uh oh.”

“Uh oh?” Z started to panic. “What’s uh oh? Why are you saying that?”

“No, no, no.” Taeyoung shook his head. “This isn’t happening. I can’t go down like this.”

T started laughing. “Oh, I get it now.” He smirked. “You’re getting a taste of your own adorable medicine, aren’t you? You can’t move her off of you and you can’t bear to wake her up.”

“I can, too!” Taeyoung retorted with a slight blush. “Pssst, Livvy. Livvy.” He whispered.

“Oh please, like that’ll do anything.” Z rolled his eyes as T snickered.

“Shut up!” Taeyoung kicked his feet like a child. “You know what? I’ll just form a mold on this couch. I won’t move or sneeze or breathe until she wakes—” He paused when Olivia turned a bit and draped her arm across his abdomen. “Okay, that’s enough. Hey, Squirt, get up.”

“Oh wow.” T chuckled. “He’s better than I am.”

Olivia sat up and blinked a few times. “Taeyoung?” She squinted. “What happened?”

“You fell asleep on me. No biggie.” Taeyoung said with his oh-so charming smile. “You should probably go to bed though. You seem pretty tired.”

“Oh how embarrassing.” Olivia rubbed her eyes. “I didn’t drool on you, did I?”

Taeyoung’s expression faltered. “You drool in your sleep?”

“Huh. Guess it runs in the family.” T eyed his boyfriend.

Z pouted. “I thought you said it was cute.”

“Yeah, that was before I woke up on your pillow.” T shuddered.

“Ugh, I think I slept too hard.” Olivia pushed her messy curls out of her face. “I can’t even move.”

“Awwww, do you wanna be carried to bed?” Z said teasingly. “It’d be just like when you were five.”

“Ew, no.” Olivia said in disgust. “But I could use a little help getting up.” She batted her eyes at Taeyoung.

“Oh yeah sure.” Taeyoung got up and offered a hand to her. He pulled her up with ease. “Dag, you’re even lighter than I am.”

“That tends to happen with children.” T said half sarcastically.

“I know that.” Taeyoung rolled his eyes. “I’m just surprised how easy that was.”

“Well maybe you’re just strong.” Olivia looked up at him with a sweet but tired smile.

“I wouldn’t know.” Taeyoung shrugged. “I like to use my charms to make people do things for me so I literally have no idea what I’m physically capable of.”

“Wow, that must be super easy for…” Olivia’s eyes shut and fell forward into his arms.

“Oh my god, she actually fell asleep standing up.” Z marveled at the sight.

“Yeah, she did. Now get rid of her.” Taeyoung practically tossed her into Z’s arms. “You’re her brother, it’s your job.”

“Oh, but she fell asleep on you.” T pestered him. “It seems like a good time to show off just how strong you really are.”

“I prefer to measure strength in charm.” Taeyoung grinned. He sat in T’s lap. “Like if I sat here long enough and cuddled you, I probably wouldn’t even have to ask for a piggyback ride to bed.”

“Well, no you wouldn’t, considering this is a pullout couch and all. But go off I guess…”

#4town headcanons #4town fanfic #4town taeyoung #4town aaron t #4town z #4town robaire #4town jesse #turning red #turning red 4town #4town #4townie

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kayleezra · 4 months

Text

Nobody // (Ezra x GN!Reader)

Word Count: 3, 907 Warnings: just my god-awful writing Summary: It takes losing you for Ezra to realize that your love is one of a kind. A/N: I’m not dead! (much to many's dismay) just couldn’t write for the life of me and did I download a copy of the symposium to reference directly? yes, yes I did Also, my wife @writer-darling was kind enough to edit this (per usual since she's an angel sent from the heavens I believe) SO EVERYONE GO LOVE HER!!

(ft. a pic my wife sent me with Ezra vibes)

PRESENT

Waking up alone in a tepid bed wasn’t unknown to Ezra but now, it certainly felt foreign. Turning in the sheets felt eerily familiar, not a familiarity you can’t place but one you can; a familiarity that creates fear. It felt as though the past was pulling him away from the present that he worked so desperately hard to get to, and yet he didn’t move. He didn’t stand from the bed and try to fight the void that was the empty space beside him, the one pulling him into a space he no longer felt comfortable in. Perhaps it was the dull throbbing in his head that turned sharp when he moved too much too fast, a lingering gift from a night of overindulgence. Maybe the heavy regret that sat on his chest kept him pinned to the bed. What if he just didn’t see a reason to fight back, that all hope had been expelled from his body?

No, it wasn’t the last one. It couldn’t be because when he thought of you his heart warmed. When he thought of you he thought of your smile and laugh, particularly the ones he was graced with after fending off any insecurities you had voiced to him. Ezra was no knight in shining armour or brave warrior for keeping your insecurities at bay because it wasn’t something he had to fight or struggle for. His sword was his truth seen by adorning eyes that admired you.

Ezra is ashamed to admit how it is that he came to these conclusions. It’s been over a week and a half now and he tried to convince himself that his love for you was something that he could replicate elsewhere. Even more outrageously, he tried to find the love that you gave him elsewhere, which he found was like looking for a lion in the jungle. Since last seeing you, Ezra feels like he’s been living a lie like the Lion’s title of King of the Jungle.

The day after you walked out the door of his place, he went to a small market, proving to himself that light still shone upon him even when his sun was gone. And to be fair, he did find and see a lot of light. He loved the low hum of the crowd that all gathered to collect some local goods. He loved the smell that stemmed from the small family-run kitchens. He loved how lively everyone was, to all be enjoying this space away from the normal mundane of everyday life.

The second day after you had voiced your concern, he went out for breakfast to his favourite place. Despite having taken you there on multiple occasions he believed your ghost wouldn’t haunt the small cafe located in an apathetic hotel. The familiar smell welcomed him when he walked into the hotel but so did the ghost of you. He felt like he was following the steps of the tender past. Inside the cafe sat couples, mostly seniors, also known as the regulars, each of them living a future he envisioned with you. It certainly didn’t help when the wait staff asked where you were.

Reading in his well-worn chair with his favourite tea wasn’t even safe from your ghost. As he read he’d find a quote he liked or thought you might and would read it aloud, only to look up from the words to an empty room. You weren’t there, you weren’t seated nearby absorbing and mulling over the words he spoke to you, developing words of your own to express enjoyment.

By the fourth day following his failed attempt at democratic discussion, he found comfort in the warmth of the bottle. He never allowed himself to overindulge to the point of incapacitation or becoming the messy drunk but just enough to have your haunting figure disappear and to silence your disembodied voice. However, the warmth could only comfort him for so long.

So by the fifth day, Ezra found himself in crowds he’d normally never be caught dead in. Crowds that thought he spoke weird instead of eloquent, crowds that didn’t give themselves to their loves and passions in fear of the unknown, crowds that felt all too claustrophobic and dishonest. The one thing he did like about these crowds was that they were so loud and busy, that you couldn’t follow him in and he couldn’t hear the aching voice in his head. He kept this process up for days, numbing his senses and then overloading them when the numbing wore off.

Which brought him to the soberingly cold bed he lays in now. He was exhausted, his head hurt and his mind yelled at him for being so childish and running from something that was within him. Ezra could no longer find the energy in himself to run, and while the agonizing void continued to pull at him, his newly sobered and angry mind lugged him toward the land of rationale.

BEFORE

"Ezra, I need to talk to you,"

"Mmm?" he responded distractedly.

Inside you sigh, given this was exactly why you wanted to talk to him. He'd become… nonchalant. He wasn't quite distant but you'd felt like he was taking you for granted, like no matter how little he cared you'd always be dutifully waiting for him. It was almost like he had checked out of the relationship & while you'd brought it up multiple times, he assured you nothing had changed. But you felt forgotten, like a ghost in your own relationship.

"Ezra... I," you sigh, "I'm feeling... forgotten about,” this makes him look up with furrowed brows,

"What'd' ya mean?" he asks

"I just feel like you've become... disinterested in us.” He sighs frustratedly,

"Not this again, babe, I told you-"

"No, I know," you interrupt, "but I need you to understand that this isn't about what is or isn't but about how I'm feeling. You could be 100 % right: that you haven't & nothing between us has changed but maybe I have, which is making me feel the way I am," you explain calmly despite your bubbling frustration. Ezra sighs and approaches you, placing his hands on your shoulders to be reassuring,

“We are fine. Ain’t nothing changed. We’re together and in love, okay? I love you,” he says but it feels forced.

Ezra’s ‘I love you’s’ have felt like an apology from a toddler forced out by a parent; like it’s an annoyance rather than a statement of love. You sigh, seemingly unable to get him to understand, leaving you feeling more alone and forgotten.

The decline of your relationship happened so slowly that you thought you were imagining it. But then, when that voice of doubt in your head got too loud to ignore, you started initiating things and bringing it up with him, all of which he shot down nonchalantly.

You even did things that he could never seem to resist, like making his favourite meal whilst dancing and singing to whatever playlist you’d chosen for the day. Whenever he came home to see you enjoying yourself while doing a menial task he couldn’t help but smile and join you. Even if he had the worst day when he saw you, love and joy filled his heart and he’d completely forget about what had happened that day or that there was a world outside the kitchen walls you remained within. His favourite was when he’d get into the house without you knowing so that he could watch you without you realizing. It was like seeing the rawest version of you. Ezra loved scaring you by creeping behind you slowly before trapping you in a bear hug. But in recent weeks, even when you purposely set yourself up for it, Ezra didn’t scare you; he didn’t even join you or make any innuendos with his classic smirk. He’d say a quick hello while walking past you with a peck to your forehead before leaving to shower, relax, or do anything else that he wanted to do. But maybe it’s just a small thing that you’re blowing up.

But then there was also how he started acting in bed, not just in regards to sex but all other forms of intimacy. Or rather it was the lack of intimacy he’d initiate and reciprocate. Normally he couldn’t keep his hands off of you, he’d want to cuddle or hold you, hell even just have a leg intertwined with yours. Recently he’s slept strictly on his side of the bed, often facing away from you.

FLASHBACK

You gain consciousness and feel the morning sun shining into your bedroom and rudely your closed eyelids. You haven’t even opened your eyes and you already think it’s too bright. You roll over, with a groan, into a warm body whose chest rumbles with a low chuckle. To which you groan in annoyance, causing further chuckling. You blindly reach for his face and push it away from you to show your disapproval. Ezra lightly nibbles on your fingers, still laughing at you. You take your hand away and finally open your eyes to look up at Ezra. You try to look serious but can’t help but smile when you see his warm smile and big grin.

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you?” you accuse through giggles.

“Not at all, but my bedbug sure is,” he says while pulling you against him. You give in and nuzzle into him, unable to resist his love. So the two of you cuddle and enjoy each other's company and warmth. Slowly, you become more awake and shuffle to get up.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Ezra says while holding you tighter.

“Gotta start the day,” you explain while trying to escape.

“Nothing is waiting on you, I on the other hand am in need of you and your arms around me,” he says, still holding onto you.

You sigh, “but I'll be guilty about being lazy and not doing anything.”

“You’re not being lazy, you’re enjoying your day off and recharging. Plus you are doing something.”

You smile, “and what is it that I’m doing?” you ask humorously.

“You’re fulfilling the very important task of keeping me warm.” Despite how cheesy he’s being you can’t help but smile.

“But,” you start.

“Nope, shush, shush, shush,” he says before kissing you to stop you from arguing with him.

PRESENT

Despite the little time spent apart from Ezra, it feels as though it’s been months. You were hoping this time apart would help you clear your head and give yourself a solid answer as to where you stood with Ezra and your relationship. You wanted to feel free while away from him but you just yearned for him more and missed him… which left you with a bigger problem; how can you guys fix your relationship? You’ve tried a handful of times in the past and it seemingly fell on deaf ears, up to this point in time where you are now, if Ezra isn’t willing to listen there isn’t anything that can be done and you’ll have to mourn a relationship and love that you not only had but continue to crave.

You refrained from reaching out to him earlier; it was so premature that it felt like you were crawling back to him. But now you feel more confident in the midst of questions you stand in and hope that talking with him can clear that fog and reveal what is left of the village the two of you built together. Maybe the village will be fine, some broken branches and puddles, but fine. Or maybe the storm was a little stronger and entire trees have fallen and windows have broken. Or maybe the entire village is gone, no foundations left standing and nothing but raw torn-up soil remains.

You made yourself clear, you’d trusted him and he blew you off. The cold bed he lies in now is what he deserves. His anger simmers and begins bubbling over, leaving a sour taste in his mouth. Looking back, things had in fact changed, he changed. Ezra took you, and your love, for granted. He thought that no matter what, he’d have your love, that you’d always be there. It wasn’t that Ezra got comfortable, he was already very comfortable with you; Ezra had never felt more comfortable with someone. No, Ezra got lazy. Any and all relationships take some work, like a lawn, even if you only do the bare minimum you still need to do regular maintenance and Ezra stopped doing the maintenance, he let his lawn grow into the jungle and it swallowed you whole.

The reality was that your love was one of a kind, it was the final piece to his puzzle. He’s spent the last few days going everywhere and doing everything and all he could think about was you.

Ezra loves love. He loves watching couples laugh and smile together. He loves seeing someone sit in a cafe that they frequent, taking their usual spot. He falls in love with the sun twice a day, with every sunrise and every sunset. He loves seeing a child light up when they receive something they want. On the flip side, he loves watching couples argue, watching someone change their usual order due to a blue demeanour, seeing dark clouds hide the sun’s beauty, and seeing a child cry when heartbroken over a toy.

Ezra loves seeing these human emotions and connections. Ezra sees love everywhere within almost everything and yet… he’s never seen or experienced a love like yours. Ezra fights with the idea of messaging or calling you. He wants to crawl back to you and tell you how idiotic he was, is! To tell you about what he’s learnt and seen. Ezra sighs and rolls over, still feeling lost and uneasy. He looks around the room as if a resolution will miraculously present itself on the walls. And while Ezra has long struggled with the idea of God, he’s the closest he’s ever been to believing when he sees The Symposium on his nightstand.

It’s been nearly a week since you walked out of Ezra’s place, unsure if you’d ever want to return. Your mind is playing a cruel game of pong, you’re the poor ball bounding between ‘something changed, I felt ignored,’ and ‘we’ve had such amazing times, maybe this is just a rough patch,’ and you’re left to float in a desolate empty space in between these bounces. At least it felt that way until you saw that you got a missed call from Ezra and that he left you a voicemail. Your heart sings, even if you want to be unbothered and not interested. But, if you’re honest, you’ve been checking your phone obsessively for days. You begin to call your voicemail and your heart rate increases in excitement while a small part of your brain voices its disappointment.

“Hello, my flower, I’m sure you don’t wish to hear from me but I fear I couldn’t help myself. I’d like you to do something for me, and I know that you owe me nothing, that you’re not obliged to do anything for me,” Ezra then explains what he wants you to do and that he wants to meet with you at a local cafe this coming Sunday, “I just hope… I hope to see you soon, my flower,” Ezra ends the voicemail.

Despite your brain’s rationale you’re excited to have heard from Ezra and are excited to complete the task he bestowed upon you, so that's exactly what you begin to do.

TIME JUMP - SUNDAY

Ezra is nervous, the kind of nervous that makes his palms sweaty and stomach churn. The cafe is busy, with people coming in and out and many others sitting with friends and family, catching up in the cozy atmosphere. He watches some adolescent girls talk quietly amongst themselves with coy smiles and many giggles, talking about who likes who and giving advice to one another. There’s a mother and son keeping their mugs in cupped hands, the mother's eyes are soft, filled with love and hold a hint of pain. Ezra gathers, from the son's demeanour and the bits of conversation he overhears, that the son is back visiting, having taken an amazing career opportunity overseas. The mother is trying to keep her composure and not leap over the table and embrace her grown son and tell him how much she misses him. Two men sit at a table with their laptops discussing their workload and most recent project, it is clear they’re work friends but it doesn’t extend much farther than that.

Even a larger group of 6 seniors, 3 couples, sitting together having lunch and catching up and making little quips about each other. It's clear many of them have known each other for decades. It’s not all positive though, a couple appears to be discussing their issues, one of them having trouble trusting the other and the other blowing it off. Many of the people coming in to grab beverages and snacks seem to be in a rush, irritated by having to wait.

But everyone in the cafe ceases to exist when you walk in. If Ezra is honest with himself, he didn’t think you’d show but there you stand, scanning the room for him. You wear some comfy staples from your closet but have added some pieces to dress it up a bit. Ezra’s heart flutters, and he stands so you can spot him, which you do almost instantly.

You carefully make your way over to him, dodging tables and ignorant patrons. You sit opposite of him, placing your bag on the table, before pulling out Ezra’s personal ichthys symbol; The Symposium. Ezra takes a deep breath, “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“I wasn’t sure I was going to either,” you say softly.

“Did you read it?” he asks hopefully.

You nod, “I did.” You keep your answers short, not wanting to reveal too much of yourself to him just yet, you want him to explain himself first. He nods shyly, unable to process that you’ve given him this opportunity.

“Ezra, I-” you begin, sure you know what he’s going to say, given the message of the text.

“Page 23 to 25,” he swallows. You don’t seem convinced, not yet opening your text or softening your gaze. “Please just, humour me yeah?” he pleads.

You do as he says and open your text to the pages and see a rainbow of highlighted mess, having annotated the shit out of it. You tilt the book towards you, trying to shield it from Ezra, not wanting him to see how seriously you took this.

Ezra notices but doesn’t say anything instead, his chest tightens, not because you did something you asked but because no matter what you do, you give it your all.

“190d, After much hard thought Zeus delivered his conclusion. ‘I think I have a plan’, he said, ‘that will allow humans to exist but at the same time put an end to their outrageous behaviour by making them weaker. For the present I shall split each one of them in half, and that will make them weaker, and at the same time they will be more useful to us by being greater in number. Then, 191b, after the original nature of every human being had been severed in this way, the two parts longed for each other and tried to come together again. They threw their arms around one another in close embrace, desiring to be reunited, and they began to die of hunger and general inactivity because they refused to do anything at all as separate beings. And lastly, 191d, for each of us is a mere tally of a person, one of two sides of a filleted fish, one half of an original whole. We are all continually searching for our other half.”

You follow along as he reads, the bustling world around you disappearing. You’re taken back to when he’d read aloud to you, all because he used to whisper to himself every once and again while reading and you asked him to read it aloud, to which he always obliged. Of course, the quotes he reads from the book are highlighted and annotated. It spoke to you, and without having read it together the two of you found great beauty and importance. It felt like an invisible string was pulling the two of you together. The words break down the fragile walls you put up in defence of him, you look up to him with soft eyes and the smallest of smiles.

“Plato wrote that according to Greek Mythology, Zeus separated humans into two halves because he couldn’t control us. And he left us to search for our other half our entire lives, many of us dying in the process… That’s exactly how I felt this last week, my flower. I wanted to convince myself otherwise, I went around this entire damned city, trying to fill the void you left and nothing, nothing even compared to the love I felt for and from you. You are the destined other half, you’re the one I’m meant to find and be with. I was the most foolish man to ever walk this rock because I didn’t realize that sooner, and only when you left I realized that I was and am nothing without you, that no love, despite the plethora of it in this world, even compares to the love you give not only me but everything. I’m in awe of you, my flower. And I vow to ensure you know this every day and to never ever be the ignorant ass I was,” Ezra finishes with a small smirk.

“You were an ignorant ass,” you confirm.

“I was,” he agrees, grabbing your hands over the table.

“Please allow me to worship you as the deity you are,”

“You’re not going to play Zeus and do whatever you want for your own benefit despite any and all rationale?” you ask teasingly, digging at Zeus.

“I promise, I’ll be the Orpheus to your Eurydice.” You sigh because you know he’s won you over. You wordlessly stand from your chair, readying to leave. Ezra's heart drops and he swears he’s moments away from vomiting.

“Will you walk me out?” you ask him coldly.

“Of course,” Ezra says, gulping down the bile that’s risen in his throat.

When the two of you step out of the cafe you turn around and kiss Ezra. Ezra is shocked but quickly embraces you, scared to let you go and lose you. When the two of you separate, Ezra’s eyes are glossy with hope and you have a devilish smile on your face.

“You’re lucky I love you,” you say.

“Trust me, I know that, I’ve the luckiest formation of atoms to have ever been formed in the galaxy.” You can’t help but scoff as you walk away, preparing to move back in.

“Remember, Orpheus, not Zeus!” you yell back at Ezra before you disappear from his sight, leaving him giddy and high. He feels warm and whole again knowing you’ll be at his side again and that he’ll get to wake next to you and come home to you. Ezra is the only man to ever get to receive the one-of-a-kind love that you have to offer.

Taglist: @spideysimpossiblegirl @littlemisspascal @writer-darling @avengetheunnatural @louderfortheback @currentobsessionrabbithole @harriedandharassed @kirsteng42

#ezra x reader #ezra x you #ezra prospect #prospect fanfic #prospect film

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