#anyways as always . hopefully it is funny. to you. takes a deep bow
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Coping with beating innocent sin rn
#persona 2#eikichi mishina#Lisa Silverman#if you saw me post this earlier no you didn’t I decided I wanted to change something and then decided against it anyhow#anyways as always . hopefully it is funny. to you. takes a deep bow#myart
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| mortifying ordeal |
part 2
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
summary: this was supposed to be a simple "reader offers eddie a ride" but it definitely got away from me lol. anyway enjoy <3
warning: no beta.
word count: 3k.
*******
"fucking... shit!"
you jump, startled, and lose the grip on your bunch of keys. they clatter on the ground, chipping the tiny charm in the process - time for you to go, tweety.
you turn towards the voice muttering profanities a few parking lots away, seeing a familiar face kicking the tire of his van and dragging a tired, exasperated hand through his messy curls.
you grab your keys from the ground and walk to him, backpack half hanging from your shoulder. "everything okay, munson?"
he turns with a deep frown but smooths it out when he sees it's you, offering a half smile in greeting and a slight bow of his head. "not quite," he grunts. "some dickhead thought it funny to pierce a hole in my tire, and now i gotta go home on foot. or wait for my uncle..."
he's half-muttering to himself now, and you take a moment to realize that this is probably the first time you actually saw him worried and - the right word would probably be, dejected. it's strange: eddie munson is always joking and teasing, not even the fact that he's at his third senior year seems to faze him anymore, and usually even the bullying stops at calling him a freak because he's just too chill to let what other people say or think of him affect him.
apparently, they decided to try a different approach. dickheads indeed - this has jocks written all over it.
you bite the inside of your cheek, thinking. you're not exactly friends, to be honest - you share various classes and also happened to work on a few projects together, but that's the extent of it. you've always seen him in the background at school previous to your senior year - he was impossible to miss, as his personality demanded your whole attention; he was a costant, brilliant presence moving in and out of your circle, making you almost painfully aware of his existence - yet you never engaged with him, not for lack of desire to do so. you're simply not that great with strangers and have always felt some sort of deference towards the older students.
you've always thought it would be an amazing experience to actually get to know him, hearing his weirdly deep rants about any sort of subject up close instead of straining your ears from your table in the cafeteria - even during class, if he was in the mood to pay attention, he would rarely say something dumb. he always seems to think before speaking, and then from time to time he would even quote pieces of literature. how could you not be intrigued?
and even if it's different now, as you're both on equal ground, there still hasn't been an occasion for you to exchange more than a few words.
maybe this was it.
"you need help to change your tire?"
he blinks, looking surprised that you're still here. "um, what?"
you point to the tire slumped sadly on the ground. "i can help with that, if you want."
he still looks like a deer in the headlights, hands gripping his elbows and head tilted sideways as he just - stares at you, as if he's considering whether you're fucking with him or you're actually serious.
hopefully, since he hasn't told you to fuck off yet, he's leaning more towards the latter.
"thank you, sweetheart," he says eventually. "but this was my spare tire. it's not the first time this happened, and i haven't... mmh... had time to change it yet."
"oh."
you stare at each other, a weird mood settling on the scene - it kinda feels like you're both trying to figure the other out without being able to. you can't read his expression, his poker face is too good for that, so you can only hope he doesn't think you're crazy, or worse - one of the bullies who ruined his only means of getting home.
you clear your throat before he can say anything, and point in the general direction of your car. "well, do you want a ride? you can't go back on foot, it's about to rain."
"why?"
the sudden sharpness of his voice catches you off guard. "why what?"
"why are you doing this? you rarely talk to me outside of class. actually, i didn't even think you knew my name," he calls you out like he's just stating a fact, merciless yet not cruel, and you start to regret ever coming up to talk to him.
"we have six classes together, of course i know your name," you murmur, not really knowing what to say. yeah, what possessed you to make you go and talk to him out of nowhere? god, no one likes nosey people.
time to flee the scene. "i'm sorry, i didn't want to impose or- or look like a busybody. you just looked like you needed help and i- i, well, doesn't matter. uh, sorry again then. bye."
you're already in front of your car when you hear your name (he knows it?) being called, but you're feeling humiliated enough and you just want to go home and try to forget the way you just made a fool of yourself.
eddie calls your name again, and his hand presses against your car door. "hey, wait a second- please?"
god, why couldn't you mind your own business? with a sigh, you straighten your back - just pretend not to be affected, then take the furthest seat possible from him in your classes from now on.
"mh?"
"look, i didn't mean to sound rude - it came out wrong," he says quickly, as if he's afraid you might just jump in the car and run before he has finished. "we just never talked, and suddenly you come up and offer me a ride? i'm grateful but also a bit confused. okay? you usually avoid me!"
you stubbornly ignore the fragments of past scenes coming to mind - eddie picking up your pen and you taking it from his hand without even glancing his way, cheeks too warm from the brief yet lingering touch of his fingers against you; him moving away from your path with a flourish and a half bow, half gentleman and half jester, only to get a tight-lipped awkward smile before watching you scurry away; you fidgeting on your seat as the both of you work together on the same essay, too nervous and focused on the light scent of aftershave coming off of him to notice his perplexed and vaguely annoyed expression.
to be fair he probably has all the reasons to think you've been avoiding him, but you're not about to confess your crush just to clear up the whole misunderstanding.
and yet - it hurts to know that's what he thinks of you.
"i don't avoid you!" you blurt, turning so sharply towards him that he takes an instinctive step back. "you're the one who's unapproachable!"
his eyes widen almost comically, his finger pointing to himself. "who, me?" he snorts a laugh. "i'm, like, the most approachable guy in the whole school. wouldn't be able to run my business otherwise, you think?"
you stare at him, speechless. why is he even insisting - how are you having this conversation?
"munson, you're just- kind of intimidating, to be honest", you force yourself to admit. "and i'm not great at making friends - usually people approach me first because i guess i give off a non-threatening aura, but that's it. and you're this- this big, imposing presence, the cool older senior who deals and has a band and tattoos and long hair - and, and... don't you see it? it's overwhelming! so- so, i'm not avoiding you, i just can't meet your eyes!"
at this point you're pretty sure that if the ground doesn't open up and swallow you whole in the next five minutes you're going to find it very hard coming back to school tomorrow, but that sounds like a problem for future you. present you has her own problems - she's breathing shakily, staring at eddie munson waiting for the guy to laugh or tell you to fuck off and just hopefully forget the whole thing ever happened.
except - eddie munson isn't looking at you like that.
his mouth is hanging open, his lips trying to move and mouth something despite his voice refusing to come out. the hand pressing the door of your car close slips away and curls into a tight fist against his thigh.
still, it seems anticlimatic to just enter your car and leave, so you wait. what else could go wrong at this point, right? he already thinks you're kind of a bitch.
as you wait, you focus on the big, metal rings on his pale fingers, noticing a skull shaped one that wasn't there the other day - and was that writing on his skin? you remember watching him scribble on the back of his hand during maths, looking bored out of his mind, blue ink shaping stylized images that looked like the ones patched on his jeans vest - and god, why do you even know this kind of stuff. but you couldn't really help it, though?, since he keeps sitting next to you, forcing you to learn things about him. yeah, that's it - it's his fault, really.
"you think i'm cool?"
you blink, abruptly coming back to reality. "sorry, what?"
"you", he says again, playing with a lock of his hair and twirling it under his nose as if it were a moustache. "you said- you think i'm cool?"
is he blushing?
because you're blushing.
"well- well, i mean, you're-" you gesture nervously towards him, feeling warm. that's what he got from your little rant? "-you're like, a rockstar", you finish lamely.
please, god, take me now.
"a... rockstar", he repeats, baffled.
you gesture wildly with the hand holding your keys like a weapon, throwing shyness out the window. "you have a belt made of bullets!"
"not today."
you falter. "ah?"
"i said, i'm not wearing that today." now he's staring, a weird, considering look upon his handsome face. "actually, i think i only wore it a couple of times at school."
your arms fall at your side as you hold his gaze, completely lost. why the sudden change of subject?
"i don't understand what you-"
"a couple of times in the last three years, i mean."
ah.
you clear your throat, lowering your eyes to the metallica tshirt peeking out from his jacket. a muscle twitches in your jaw as you clench your teeth, nervousness coming back in waves and warmth settling on your cheeks.
way to look like a stalker in front of the guy you fancy.
you swallow, gripping the strap of your bag and trying to look anywhere but him. except eddie is making it nearly impossible, standing big and tall in front of you and filling your whole visual field.
"i'm sorry", you repeat, not quite knowing what to say. it's like you're having an out of body experience with how strange the afternoon has been - but this is definitely gonna put a stop to any future attempt of befriending him.
the last nail on your coffin, burying the little courage you had left.
out of the corner of your eye you see his fingers drumming on his faded jeans, then his hand twitches as if he's debating whether to try and touch you - and you've had enough.
"i'm just gonna go before, uh, before it rains." you finally stick the key in the door and open your car, throwing your bag on the passenger seat; the scent of vanilla coming from the arbre magique hanging from the rearview mirror is a lovely welcome for your frayed nerves.
"hey hey, wait", eddie suddenly jumps in front of you, hands hovering mid-hair to show he has no bad intentions - at least that's how he looks to you - and those big, brown eyes watching you with concern and- and something else you're too tired to decipher. "this isn't... 's not how this was supposed to go."
you close your eyes, deflated. "what are you talking about, munson?"
he grabs the back of his neck, leaning against the side of your car. "this... the first time we talked."
you frown, crossing your arm. "we talk all the time in class."
he throws you a flat stare. "i'm not talking about when we're picking a subject for an essay or i ask you to copy your maths homeworks, sweetheart."
sweetheart? maybe there's still hope.
he groans before you have the time to say anything, and rubs his face harshly as if to pull himself together. "you know- i thought you hated me at first, with how you skirt around me and look on edge or uncomfortable all the time. thought it was because i'm the freak, and maybe some friends told you to give me a wide berth, you know? and i thought - well, that's fair, a girl's gotta protect herself from weird older guys who sell drugs! so i wasn't going to lose sleep on it, i mean. but then you ended up in a lot of my classes! and you're adorable. and it's clear that you're not one to judge a book by its cover, okay, you seem to have a good relationship with anyone. except me! and i- i don't get it. i tried to talk to you, tried to tease you, to help you, to make you help me, try to look as unthreatening as possible! and you just- you just look away. you're all fidgety like, like... i don't know, like you're red riding hood and i'm the big bad wolf! and then now, out of nowhere, you approach me first and offer me a ride? am i in a twilight zone episode?"
he stops brusquely to catch his breath, hand running through his hair as his eyes wildly look around as if to make certain that no one else was witness to his rant - but you're alone now, students already gone home from the day and teachers probably still in some meeting inside.
"those were certainly a lot of words", you mutter, mind reeling. you don't think you ever heard him say so many words all together - well, not to you, anyway - and it was kind of... thrilling, to be honest.
maybe you were in a twlight zone episode.
"yeah, i tend to vomit words when i'm nervous," he blurts out, unfiltered.
a few, fat drops of water start falling slowly all around you, splattering on your car and leaving round shadows on the pavement, but suddenly you're not in a hurry to leave anymore. at this point you kinda want to resolve this thing, so you close your eyes and sigh.
"i have a crush on you."
"...no."
you huff a laugh at his incredulous tone, nodding. "yeah."
he ignores the raindrop running down his nose and dripping from his chin, eyes intent on you, a hand raising to grip his shirt in the direction of his heart. "you're serious? you're not bullshitting me?"
you feel tired all of a sudden so you sit inside your car, legs dangling outside, hands grasped together in between your thighs. "nope", you confirm, shrugging. "sorry."
at least, the fact that he's not one to gossip comes as a comfort to you - your little, silly unrequited crush is going to remain hidden, hopefully, and now the misunderstandings between you two are all cleared. it does make you feel a tiny bit relieved, all things considered - and maybe even your classes are going to pass with less tension.
"now, why do you keep saying sorry?" eddie opens the door wide and suddenly he's kneeling in front of you, no thought spared for the dirty, wet asphalt of the parking lot.
"oh my god, get up, you'll ruin your knees and your jeans-!"
"babe, i don't care." that shuts you up pretty quickly. "now, you were telling me about your crush? i have a few questions, if you don't mind."
this is all so surreal, you can't even conjure the embarrassment anymore. "and do you have to stay there for this?"
"yeah, i think i'll get better answers", he smirks up at you, then he offers you his hand - palm up. "may i?"
why not? you put your hand over his and his fingers curl around it, the cold metal of his rings clashing pleasantly with the warmth of your skin. you try not to think of how many times you have wondered how would it feel to touch him - to have that degree of casual familiarity that would allow for it - and you fail, of course. the feeling of his hand grasping yours is even better than what you could imagine.
your eyes finally raise to his face, and in the dim light of the cloudy afternoon eddie munson looks incredibly soft, spurring you to gently squeeze his hand.
his smirk turns into something sweeter. "hi there."
"hi." your lips curl upwards, a bit sadly. "look, i didn't mean anything with that, by the way. about my crush - you don't have to worry about it. i just don't want you to keep thinking i hate you, or that i'm a bitch. i'm just shy, promise."
now he's the one who squeezes your hand. "that does answer a few questions, although i never thought you were a bitch. just... maybe... a little stuck-up?"
you snort. "as if that's any better?"
"it is", he nods sagely. "you can work with stuck-upness, but you rarely can fix bitchiness."
"aah, shakespeare?"
eddie's whole face seems to brighten. "and with a sense of humour, too - a woman after my own heart!"
you bite the inside of your cheek, shaking your head. "please, don't joke about that."
he must have heard something fragile in your tone because he sobers up immediately, taking your other hand too and squeezing them together between his. "i'm not joking", he assures you, gently. "haven't you been listening, sweetheart? i told you i tried everything short of showing up naked for maths to catch your attention."
your brain doesn't immediately grasp the meaning of his words - to be fair, rain keeps falling in quiet, sparse drops, and his long curls are getting frizzy and a few damp locks are sticking on his forehead and pinky cheekbones, making him look like a renaissance painting; but then you blink, and he's still on his knees in front of you, patiently waiting for your reaction - and the only thing you can say is, "uh?"
eddie laughs a bit, looking entirely too pleased with himself as he puts the weight of his torso against your thighs, looking up at you with your hands held against his face. "seen something you like, mh?"
ah, and the blush is back.
"this is why i couldn't look at you." you swallow, incredulous of the turn this whole awkward affair has taken. "you're distracting, eddie munson."
"and you're beautiful, sweetheart", he doesn't miss a beat. "so! you have a crush on me, i have a crush on you... when are you gonna take me on a date? because i'm currently on foot, sadly."
"i know, that's why i offered you a ride earlier", you remind him, rolling your eyes - then freeze. "wait- you have a crush on me?"
"yeah? pay attention", he says distractedly, playing with your hands before bringing them up to his mouth and - leaving kisses on your fingers. "and i'm actually quite wounded that your way of flirting is ignoring me, you know. truly counterproductive, i have to say."
his lips keep brushing and peppering kisses on your hands and you're finding it harder and harder to focus on the conversation. "i know, i- i'm- sorry?" he casually puts your index finger inside his mouth and bites down on it, not to hurt but definitely to scold, and your breath hitches. "yeah, s-sorry doesn't cut it."
"it does not", he concurs primly.
"how about-", you try again, heart beating wildly inside your ribcage as eddie simply start to suck on your finger, slowly, watching you through half-lidded eyes. "-mmh, i give you a ride home, and we decide what to do on the way?"
god, how did things escalated so quickly?
he releases you with a pop and smile up at you. "yep, that's better. and you're gonna answer my questions, yes?"
"sure", you murmur, light-headed.
"perfect!" he finally gets up, cracking his back with a satisfied groan and brushing the dirty off his knees, looking like a different person than the one cursing at his tire from earlier. "let me get my bag real quick and then we can go, babe."
he leans in to smack a kiss on your forehead with admirable ease before jogging to his van, leaving you to admire his broad back and allow your heart to calm down.
so - guess the two of you are dating, now?
***********
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson fluff#stranger things#text#mine*#this just kept going and going!! i had no idea where it was headed lol. def no plot here - vibes only
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Here’s part two of my post about Peet’s introduction in The Wingfeather Saga show episode 2 “The Mysterious Map”! (no spoilers unless you haven’t seen the episode)
So Peet and Janner leave Glipwood Forest and Peet grandly- but without words- presents the ball back to the assembled children outside.
also I have emotions about Leeli saying “Hi Mr. the Sockman!” and waving to him help
You could write a whole other essay probably about the kids varied responses in this scene. Most of them look bored or annoyed to see Peet, and interestingly enough, none of them are afraid. You’d think that a crazy guy who runs around fighting street signs (true story) and talking to himself in gibberish would make a group of lone kids a little nervous, but he doesn’t. Which, to me says that he’s presented such a harmless persona around town that the kids see him and are just like, “oh it’s that weird guy again.” (which is pretty much Janner, Tink and Leeli’s reaction when we’re introduced to Peet in the book).
Also I’d just like to take a moment and point out Sara’s face: she looks like such a little leader and so stern and almost fierce and it’d be adorable and funny on another kid’s face but Sara, hhhhh oh Sara and what that girl goes through, what she becomes, and getting to see the tiniest glimpse of that here is just *chef’s kiss* (all I can think of is the scene where she meets Artham in book 3)
ANYWAY so here’s the second time Peet bows
It’s interesting that he’s not smiling here. You’d think that, with the image he normally presents of just being a goofy crazy guy he’d be grinning or something. But he’s not. He just looks sad and tired. And this is after we saw him smile at Janner and even laugh a little after protecting him. (And in the first episode he also smiles at Janner) It makes me wonder if he smiled a little at Leeli when he came out of the forest and she said hi to him before looking sad again (because he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay with the kids long).
Because while Peet is always happy to see the Igiby kids (and hopefully they continue to show this) he’s unbearably sad when he has to leave them.
(also oh my goodness put him out in the light and he does not look well at all someone please help him-)
And then Podo shows up. And he gives this look to Peet:
Just a casual death glare thrown across a field, but anyway, look at the effect it has on Peet:
He goes from this, where he looks strikingly noble, head up, eyes lifted, eyebrows raised. He doesn’t look happy, exactly, but he looks almost… hopeful.
And then after Podo glares at him he shrinks back and looks like this:
He has visibly drawn in on himself- tucked his chin/head down, eyes downcast, shoulders hunched, eyebrows drawn together. He looks like a chastised child, like Podo just yelled at him instead of looked at him.
Obviously these scenes are telling us that Peet and Podo have a history together, and that whatever that history is Podo hates Peet and doesn’t want him anywhere near his family (Peet notably keeps a distance from the kids after this moment, he hangs back and only watches them longingly, with a deep sadness in his eyes). It’s also showing us that Podo has some sort of authority over Peet, an ability to cow him into submission. Because Peet isn’t a coward, we just saw that in the forest when he leapt between Janner and danger! And we know Peet can be fierce, because we saw how he looked when he did that. And yet Podo has made him look like a beaten puppy with just one glare.
Peet looks like he expects retribution for what he did (and he’s done… nothing?) and he’s right to, as people who have read the books know. And listen, Podo is a great character and I love him, but how he treated Peet is objectively awful and it makes me very angry.
Anyway, the kids have their farewell conversations (and Peet noticeably doesn’t fade from the background of these, you can see him hanging back and looking sad when Sara and Janner are discussing zibzy points) but Janner doesn’t forget whatever just happened. He looks back twice and finds Peet watching him from the trees with the most dejected heartbreaking expression:
And here’s my final note about the lighting: Peet is at the edge of the forest which is in deep shadow, but him and the tree he’s by are in the light. There’s still some faint glimmer of hope in him for a second, and he’s still solidly being framed as good and noble.
But then-
As Janner watches, he goes back into the dark.
Alright Mozie, you’re probably saying, explain the light and dark thing you’ve been going on about.
Gladly.
The darkness here represents a number of things. It’s showing us that Peet is good, yes, and it’s telling us something else too. Peet is lost. When he is with the Igiby children he is in the light, he can think, he can even be happy. When he doesn’t have them he is in the darkness, trapped in his own mind, a prisoner to his thoughts, trauma, shame and pain. He needs them to break out of that darkness. And they need him. Oh do they need him.
It’s showing us that the Igiby kids are his light, and without them he is trapped in darkness.
TLDR; The Wingfeather Saga show is showing us that Peet is a complex character in approximately two minutes by showcasing his kindness, protectiveness, mental instability, deep sadness, loneliness, the fact that Podo hates him, and his connection to the Igiby children.
Can’t wait to see my boy again and hopefully write more long posts about him! *hugs Peet*
#the wingfeather saga#the wfs#the wingfeather saga tv show#the mysterious map#peet the sockman#janner igiby#podo helmer#sara cobbler#my boy is so good I love him#don't read the rest of my tags if you don't want spoilers#artham wingfeather#janner wingfeather
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Oikawa x reader - A married life
"Now I'm asking you, what is this?" You shoved the screen of your phone, towards your husband as he squinted his eyes at the sudden action.
"I told you, I was at the company party and I-" Oikawa stopped. The picture showed him kissing a woman clad in revealing dress. His hands covered her cheeks as it looked like he was gladly returning the affection.
"Yn, I know what it looks like but I promise you its not what it seems like to you."
"Then why are you kissing her!?" You threw your hands in the air, frustrated at your husband. It didn't help that your hormones were skyrocketing and out of place. You were 3 months pregnant, after all.
"Look, she grabbed me out of nowhere and just forced herself on me. I was trying to push her that's why my hands were around her head. Baby, I wouldn't do that to you. You know I only love you."
You were rendered speechless at his explanation. The ache in your chest dispersing as you calm down. He wrapped his arms around you, running his hands through your soft hair.
"I'm sorry." You mumbled, hiding your face in his chest. He smell so good beneath the smooth texture of his suit. Unknowingly to you, Oikawa's eyes were tightly shut as he bit his lips guiltily.
"It's just whenever I go to your workplace, I always see her sauntering around you. She's obviously trying to seduce you. That's why I asked you again and again to avoid her as much as possible. I don't want to lose you" Voicing out your insecurities made you feel vulnerable. But you know that being in a relationship require two parties involved to be honest with each other. Communication and trust remains the strong foundation of your marriage.
"I know, sweetheart. But tell me, who sent that picture to you?" He pulled back and just when you were about to answer, another chime from your phone took both of your attention.
You clicked it open. Oikawa right by your side as he curiously look at your text. You didn't mind it. There was nothing to hide from him anyway.
The message opened to reveal a video. Tapping the play button, it shows your husband furiously making out with the same girl in the earlier photo. They were situated in a corner, away from everyone as some of his coworkers were busily drinking.
You hands started shaking as tears unconsciously poured from your eyes. Feeling your husband tense from beside you only confirms your theory. The video soon ended and there was tense silence.
You looked up to see Oikawa with his head bowed, hair covering his eyes. Even from your position, you couldn't see his expression. But it didn't matter. The video says it all. You didn't bother asking for explanation this time.
Slowly, you begun untangling his arms around you. Letting out a hollow laugh, you shook your head in dismay.
Funny how you always laugh at those cliche movies whenever a girl experiences heartbreak. They always portray it as a physical pain, symtoms similar to a heart attack. But you deem it as bullshit. Sure, it hurts. But its impossible to feel that much pain just from losing the one you love, right?
So why does it feel like you're dying now? Your heart still beats. But it feels as if it was literally torn and stamp repeatedly. You tried to breath normally but something lodge in your throat and why can't you breath properly? Why does your lungs seem to stop working right when you need it most?
"Yn!"
"YN!!!"
Choking back a gasp, you return to reality as you see Oikawa panicking as he held you.
"Are you okay? Breath slowly, baby" He instructed, rubbing his hand soothingly on your back as you tried to regain your senses.
"Why, Tooru?" You finally gathered the courage to ask. The feeling of betrayal rang loud and clear on your hoarse voice and he winced from it.
"I'm sorry Yn. I'm sorry for lying. I got pretty drunk at the party. I lose control. We haven't done it for a while after you got pregnant and she was there and just flaunting around and kept rubbing me, saying things how she's going to make me feel good and I just- I!" He rambled, truth finally spilling from those lips you loved so much. His eyes were everywhere but you.
You didn't know what to feel. You asked for the truth, right? But you feel so much worse now.
"Are you blaming me for being pregnant, Tooru?"
"Shit, no Yn-"
"We planned this together! You said you wanted to build a family with me. And we both decided to refrain from any sexual activities while I'm in my early pregnancy to avoid any possible complications while the baby is being developed. We talked about it and we both agreed! So why are you turning it against me now?"
"I know it wasn't an excuse, Yn! And I know I'm wrong. God, I'm so wrong.Please, forgive me." Oikawa sobbed, tears cascading down the smooth expanse of his cheeks as he begged for your forgiveness.
"If you can't help yourself then maybe I shouldn't have agreed to have a baby with you!" You cried, anger radiating off you in waves.
"All those nights you came home late. Was it because you were taking your sweet time with her? Hm?" You smiled at him mockingly and his eyes widened in protest.
"No, Yn!" He tightly clutched your arms, desperately forcing you to hear him out, "Listen to me. I took all those overtime to gain extra money. That was in preparation for when our baby comes! Please believe me when I say it was for us!"
You looked at him with dull eyes. The aftermath of the fight just leaves you exhausted. You didn't know what to believe anymore. This was the man you had vowed to be with for the rest of your life. This was the man you wholeheartedly love and respect. Trust had always been your foundation, hasn't it?
Where has all the trust gone to?
You placed your hand on your belly. Wondering if he or she can feel the pain their father just bestowed to you. Hopefully not. You never want any harm nor pain come to your baby.
"I'm going to sleep. I'm tired." Coming up with a lame excuse, you turn to walk away when a hand firmly grasp your arms, not in a painful way.
"Lets talk about this, Yn. I don't want us to go to sleep tonight without resolving this issue." Oikawa pleaded with you, eyes begging for a chance. Any time, you will easily give in but after what happened, you don't know how to face him.
"I don't know what to say anymore, Tooru. I just want to rest." You smiled at him resignedly. Oikawa gritted his teeth. His heart throb painfully. How can you say that with such look on your face? Knowing that he caused your pain only increased the frustration and guilt running through his veins.
With a sigh, he unwillingly yielded to your request. Letting go of your hand, he watched your back face him as you slowly walked further away from him.
He will later learn that that was the biggest mistake of his life.
That night, both of you slept in the same bed as usual. Although a few inches only separates you, both your hearts were distanced with an invisible barrier. One trying to forget the pain it experienced, while the other trying to find ways to have you back to him.
It was dead silent. You were tilting in between reality and dreams when a sudden, sharp pain tore through your abdomen and you screamed in pain. Startling your husband who immediately checked on you.
"Yn-chan, are you okay? What happened!?" Oikawa asked, panic covering his features as he took in your pain filled expression. He felt the sheets wet and he clicked the bedside lamp open to see your side in bed covered in blood.
Your pupils dilated as you took in the sight. Another stabbing pain washed over you and you keeled in agony, stifling your screams. You barely felt Oikawa whisper comforting words to you before quickly lifting you up to bring you to the hospital.
My baby. No, I can't lose him/her. Was the only thought going through your mind.
"It hurts" you groaned in pain as Oikawa comfortingly grip your hand with one of his own as he drive with one hand. (AN: Not safe. Don't do this guys. Always drive safely)
"Take deep breaths, love"
"My baby" Sobbing in distress, you held on your stomach and Oikawa felt like vomiting. A lot has happened in the past couple of hours and the thought of something happening to your unborn child didn't help the queasy feeling in his gut.
"I'm here, Yn. Nothing will happen to you nor our baby." Pretending to be strong for the both of you, he forcefully blinked the tears forming on his eyes.
Everything happened fast after that. It was like everything was a blur for him. You were quickly taken in the emergency room before you were transferred to the operating room. The doctor and nurses explained what was happening to you and what they were about to do. He numbly agreed to what they say. Only repeated over and over again that they must save you.
Before long he found himself waiting outside the operating theatre. His ears were ringing as he looked at his surroundings. It was surreal. Like his body was there but his consciousness somewhere else. He was only brought back to reality when he felt harsh tugging on his shoulder.
"Oi, Oikawa get a grip on yourself!"
"Iwa-...chan..? How did you get here? "
"You texted me, did you forget?"
"Ah.. Right" Oikawa mumbled, blankly staring at nowhere in particular. He felt drained but the anxiety running on his body did not allow him to even get an ounce of rest as he waited for the news on his wife and baby.
Iwaizumi frowned. It was unusual to see his bestfriend so distraught. He still didn't know what happened after all, Oikawa only texted him that he was in the hospital after something happened to his wife. But he felt asking would be too insensitive on his part so he stay silent and tried to just be there for his bestfriend.
"It was my fault, y'know" Oikawa finally spoke after some time.
Iwaizumi patiently waited for him to continue, silently confused on Oikawa blaming himself.
"We had a fight. She saw me making out with the girl she hated from our company. Somebody sent her a video of it."
Iwaizumi was shocked. He knew Oikawa was a huge flirt back in their high school days but that he also outgrew it when he fall in love with Yn Ln. They were happy together and rarely had a fight as much as he knew. Or was it all a facade?
Suddenly, he felt anger rush through him at the foolishness of his bestfriend. Messing around when he knew his wife was pregnant! Iwaizumi opened his mouth to curse at his close friend when he was frozen at the sight.
Oikawa was staring at him with regret painted all over his face. Tears continuously fall on his cheeks. The usual light in his warm, soft eyes was gone and all that was left was an endless pit of misery and hopelessness.
"I screwed up, Iwa-chan" He whispered, defeated.
Flinching in response, Iwaizumi's anger quickly switch into sympathy for his friend as he assessed his poor condition.
"She's strong. Stop thinking on the worst scenario. Just focus on what you will do after this." While giving him a reassurring pat on the back. Oikawa released a shaky breath as he nodded at his friends' advice.
Suddenly, the doors to the operating room opened and a doctor wearing scrubs came out. Two nurses were by his side.
"We're looking for the husband of Yn, Ln"
"That is me"
Oikawa quickly stand up from his seat and approach the doctor. He was then escorted to an empty room where the two nurses silently left him and the doctor to discuss the aftermath of the procedure.
With his heart beating loudly, Oikawa eagerly fired questions to the doctor.
"How is she? How's my wife? My baby? Were you able to save them? When can I see them?"
The doctor resignedly took of his mask.
"I'm sorry to inform you, Oikawa-san but the baby didn't make it. Your wife had a spontaneous miscarriage. It has no specific cause. Women in their first trimester or early pregnancy are more prone to experience it that's why stress must be avoided at all times especially during this sensitive period in a womans' body."
Oikawa felt like being doused in cold water. He stayed frozen while staring at the doctor who looked grim. After seeing all that blood came out on his wife, he already knew deep inside that they lost the baby but he simply refused to believe it. He hang on to that tiny hope that maybe their unborn baby can be saved.
He shakily gulped, feeling his heart break. The pain was intense. They were looking forward to the arrival of their first child and for this to happen-
"What about my wife? Can I see her now?" He was hurting. Greatly. But he couldn't imagine how his wife was faring. She was the one carrying their child, after all. He wanted to comfort her and be there for her.
"I-" the doctor stopped and cleared his throat. Oikawa felt something amiss. Like an impending doom but he quickly tried to shoo the thought away.
"Doctor, how is she? I want to talk to her as soon as possible."
"That is another matter I must discuss with you, Oikawa-san."
The nerves were killing him and it took all his self restraint to not jump across the table and force the surgeon to speak at once.
"There was.. a complication while we were taking the fetus out of her. The amount of blood was greater than what it should been. We quickly transfused blood into her but it wasn't enough. We tried to resuscitate her but in the end she.. died due to heamorrhagic shock."
For a moment, Oikawa forgot how to breath. The world around him turn to black and white and the only words resounding in his mind was that she's dead, she's dead repeatedly.
It didn't fully sink in yet. Until he saw his wife, his beloved Yn, lying still in the operating room. Her face was pale under the glare of OR lights. And if he didn't know any better, it looks as if she is only sleeping peacefully after a long day. But as he caress her cold cheeks, no more warmth emanating from those cheeks he love to kiss so much, he was slapped with the bitter reality that she's not coming back.
No more warm smiles and sweet kisses from his wife as he return home after a long day at work. No more delicious meals waiting for him at the table as they talked about what happened during their day. No more cuddles and whisper of i love you's in the darkness of the night as they lay entangled from the after event of making love.
The perfect picture of a happy family with their son/daughter shattered in his mind as he loudly grieved for the loss of his family.
Kami-sama if you are real, please let me return back time. Let me be with my family again. Please give me a chance to make things right...
Oikawa loudly gasped as if coming back to land after drowning. He find himself gazing at the ceiling in their room. It was dark. Where was he?
A slight shuffle and then,
"Are you okay? Did you have a nightmare, Tooru?"
That sweet, melodious voice.
Oikawa slowly turn towards the source of sound to see, much to his relief, his beloved wife gazing at him with concern while rubbing the sleep out her eyes.
"Yn-chan" He choked, lunging at her to give her the tightest embrace.
"Woah there, big guy" You chuckled, patting his back. You stilled when you felt something wet trickled down your neck.
"I'm so glad! So glad to be with you, Yn!" The pure, raw emotion coming from your husband surprised you as he continued to sob on your neck, clinging to you like a lost baby.
"Please don't ever leave me again! Kami-sama, thank you for bringing her back to me!" Oikawa yelled, voice muffled as he continued to shove his face around your neck.
"What has happened to you, dear?" You worriedly asked and pull his face away to wipe some of his tears.
"Do you want to talk about it?" You suggested, talking about his nightmare.
"No need, love. I just want to say that I *kiss* love *kiss* you *kiss* so damn much!"
You giggled at his affection, loving his kisses.
"Oh and how many months are you again?"
"Silly, did you forget? I'm just two months along. 7 months to go"
Oikawa heaved a sigh of relief. Turning to your stomach, he leaned down and pulled up your shirt.
"Hey, little one. I'm so excited to meet you. But for now, be good for mommy, okay?" Placing a sweet kiss to your stomach, you smiled at your husbands' attention as you run your fingers through his hair. Oikawa gladly reciprocate your smile with his own.
This time, I'll love you with all of my heart. I won't make the same mistakes again. We will be a happy family, Yn.
Extended ending:
"Yes you heard it right. You're fired." Oikawa coldly said to his assistant. The one who destroyed his past life and made him and his wife suffer.
"But! I-" she whined pathetically, trying to win his sympathy by acting like a pitiful slut. But Oikawa was having none of it.
"I said. Get. Out." The fiery glare in his eyes send shivers down her spine and she immediately booked her way out of his office, whining like a bitch along the way.
Another extended ending:
7 months later, you tiredly smile at the little bundle of joy in your arms. After 18 hours of grueling labor, you finally had your healthy, baby boy.
"I'm so proud of you." Oikawa wiped the sweat along your forehead as he softly kissed you.
"Thank you for bringing our baby to this world. You make me the happiest person alive, Yn. I love you two so much and I swear to protect you both for the rest of my life." He whispered, tears springing in his eyes at the emotional moment.
"As do I, Tooru. As do I." You swore, sealing that promise with sweet kiss.
Fin
#haikyuu#haikyu#oikawa x reader#oikawa#tooru#readerinsert#reader#angst#xreader#timeskip#fluff#marriage#anime#haikyuu!
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for the prompt list, can you do 99?💖
#99: "I fell in love with you, not them."
Maddie opens the door when he knocks. “Thank god. He’s spiraling in here.”
Eddie pushes past her and finds Buck sitting on the edge of the hotel bed with his bow tie in his hands, staring down at the floor. Eddie’s heart breaks a little the way it always does whenever Buck is sad and he doesn’t know why, but on today of all days, he thinks he can make it right. Maddie squeezes Eddie’s shoulder and they share a look before she walks out into the hallway, shutting the door behind her with a soft click.
Eddie gently sits down next to Buck on the bed, careful not to wrinkle his suit pants. “You know it’s bad luck to see each other before the wedding, right?”
Buck doesn’t laugh. Buck always laughs at Eddie, even if the shit he says isn’t funny, and now Eddie is worried. They haven’t been engaged for very long, wanting to get married as soon as possible after Eddie proposed because neither of them had any patience at all. At least they’re having an actual wedding with their family and friends present, unlike some people. The team has never let Bobby and Athena live that down.
“Hey,” Eddie says softly, taking the tie out of Buck’s hand and sliding their fingers together. “Tell me what’s going on in your head.”
Buck takes a deep breath, and Eddie soothes him by rubbing his thumb softly against the skin of Buck’s hand. Every time they’re together, Eddie is taken aback by how much he loves this man, how he would drop everything and run if Buck asked him to.
“It’s just…” Buck starts, squeezing Eddie’s hand. His voice is small when he finally speaks. “Eddie, I’m scared.”
Eddie just sits and waits for Buck to elaborate because he knows how hard this is for the both of them, how much baggage they have and how hard they’re trying to wade through it and make it lighter. He understands that it’s different, but Eddie remembers feeling scared at his first wedding, standing at the altar and praying to God that he was going to be ready for all of it. He hadn’t been, but neither had Shannon, and they were making it work together up until they weren’t.
He’s ready now, and he knows that because it feels so different this time. Buck pretty much already lives with them, they’re just waiting to make it official until after the honeymoon. They had skirted around each other for years before finally taking that leap into something new, something that had taken so much effort and adjustment but felt so warm and safe and right. But most importantly, Buck was his best friend first. Buck had known all of Eddie’s flaws, all of his mistakes and his scars and the parts of himself he still can’t look at in the mirror without feeling disgusted, and Buck had looked at them and loved him anyway. Loves him anyway, present tense, and Eddie does the same without hesitation.
Eddie doesn’t know what he did to deserve someone as radiant and giving and kind as Buck, but he’s not worried that Buck is going to take it all away from him anymore. Not since he updated his will.
He shuffles closer to Buck on the bed so that their shoulders are touching, and Buck exhales and leans his weight against Eddie’s body. “Nobody has ever stayed before.”
And that one little sentence tells Eddie everything he needs to know about why Buck is scared.
“Buck. Querido. Look at me.” And because Eddie asked him to, Buck raises his head and looks at him. Eddie grips his hand tighter. “You couldn’t get rid of me and Christopher if you tried. I don’t care what scenarios you’re coming up with right now, I don’t care if you think somehow you could do something that would make us leave you. You can’t. We’re staying.”
Buck gives him a watery smile, one that’s just for Eddie in moments like this, and god, Eddie loves him. Eddie loves him. His heart almost breaks his rib cage with it most days.
“Thanks, Eddie. Maddie, uh. Maddie said you would say that. I think I just needed to hear it from you.” Yeah, Eddie loves Maddie too. Without her, god knows where Buck would be, and apparently he and Buck are on the same wavelength about that.
“Is it bad to say that I kind of regret inviting my parents?” Eddie lets out a laugh of disbelief more than anything, and he feels bad until Buck looks up at him with a smile on his face. “I mean, our relationship is better, but I still feel like they’ll find some way to be critical. Evan, the centerpieces are a little much, don’t you think? Why aren’t you getting married in a church, Evan? You know if it were my wedding, I would have done it this way.”
Eddie giggles along with Buck, having no doubt that what he’s saying is true. Hopefully they’ll be too busy with everyone else to see much of Buck’s parents anyway, especially since Maddie is walking Buck down the aisle. Buck’s parents hadn’t been happy about that either. “Well, I fell in love with you, not them. They’ll just have to suck it up.”
Buck’s eyes almost sparkle with that admission. Eddie can’t wait to marry this idiot.
They sit in silence for a few minutes, leaning against each other until Buck finally straightens up and stretches, dropping Eddie’s hand from his. Eddie misses the contact, but he doesn’t mourn it for too long. They have a lifetime ahead of them to hold each other.
“You know what?” Buck says, standing up and grabbing his bow tie from the bed. Eddie stands up too, snatching the bow tie from Buck and raises his eyebrows at him to continue while he wraps it under Buck’s collar. “I kind of want to see the aneurysm they’ll have when they find out I’m taking your last name.”
Eddie finishes tying the knot at the front and smooths his hands down Buck’s chest, resisting the urge to mess up his pristine suit. Evan Diaz. Buck had better prepare himself for the way hearing that is going to make Eddie act. “Well, I’ve got three words for them. Suck. It. Up.”
Buck laughs out loud and Eddie thinks to himself finally, his Buck is laughing again, and he squeezes Buck’s shoulder before pulling away. “I should get back to my room. You know Maddie has at least told Chim that I’m in here, which means Hen and Karen know too. Wedding is in an hour and people probably think we’re doing… not this.”
Buck pouts at him and Eddie can’t not lean in and kiss him, short and sweet. A promise. I’m not going anywhere.
“See you in an hour, Buck.”
Buck bites his bottom lip in that cute way he always does whenever Eddie is around, and damn all of the old wives because nothing about this feels like bad luck.
“An hour,” Buck whispers, brushing his fingers against the place on Eddie’s hand where his wedding ring will be. “I can’t wait.”
And even after everything they’ve been through, in spite of it, Eddie believes him.
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Hi! So, um,, I know this isn't something you should ask a writer so please feel free to ignore this. I was wondering,, , your "the white wolves" story has brought me so much joy and I am grateful that you wrote it! I was just wondering, if you're not going to finish it (this isn't meant to pressure you. If you don't want to finish it that is 100% fine and your choice and I'm thankful for the five chapters you gave us!!!) so, anyway, I was wondering what the conclusion was going to be? If you're comfortable answering that. If not, that's absolutely fine of course and I'm sorry for asking.
Thank you so much for your lovely stories and I hope you're having a wonderful day!
Okay first off, we're totally cool don't even worry about it. I am always touched people still care about and think about an unfinished piece from like 10 months ago. And now that I have seen that it's almost been a year I feel it is important to point out that while this fic has clearly been physically abandoned, it has not been emotionally. Or Else I would not have spent the last hour pacing back and forth angrily lamenting that I do not have more hands. I do not want to provide you with an unsatisfactory summary in an undercut about how the story was going to unfold. It is not that I mind sharing these details - I have done so to others who have asked. It's just that admitting something I still love so dearly may never get done hurts.
Hopefully one day I will find that voice again.
Spoilers for a fic that will (probably) never get finished under the cut. It is 2.6k and includes most of the final section.
The next sequence in the story is them all taking a nap on the side of the road. Jaskier gets up and calls Yennifer for help. Do you know that part in the books where Yennifer saves Dandelion and he doesn't know why? Because I owed you one. You kept him from being alone. I think about that alot. I think that's why she comes. Not then. She meets them at the keep in a few days time. She is too tired to arrive before then.
There is a scene of the four of them in an inn. Of Ciri, afraid to sleep least she destroy the inn like she destroyed that forested grove. We have a moment when he looks at candle on the inn nightstand and remembers a inn fire that almost killed him and how he hadn't wanted to sleep in an inn ever again. (I foreshadowed it. It's allowed. I once read that Regis saved Dandelion from an inn fire. I thought it was canon. I know its not. I think. I only ever read the short stories. They sit on my shelf. One day I'll read them.) He understands. Still he tucks her in and tells her it will be alright. That is the empty words of adults who lie to children that they think do not know better. No. It is the empty words of a bard whose job is to write lullabies that get children to bed on time. Besides it will be fine. Even if things go bad, we will be with you the entire time.
These are the two scenes I largely blame for the fact I stopped writing this fic. I got stuck on Yennifer's conversation and then wasn't sure how to get that inn scene to actually play out. Anyway. Back to the part you were actually asking about. What's the deal with the wolves? Both of them.
They arrive at the keep. They are greeted and loved and yeered at and pestered. Jaskier is nervous and concerned as he eyes the silver in their blades. It is strange they believe the doppler. But he was a very good Doppler. He digs his fingers into white fur. Remember you promised. You promised you were him. Don't let it be a lie.
And oh I have lost the voice but they are in the great hall with Vesemir and Eskel and Lambert and Geralt and Geralt and Yennifer. She peers into his eyes and does not reveal him. Silver medallions brush against skin and he does not flinch or melt. Geralt of Rivia is Geralt of Rivia. Of this there is no doubt.
The conversation turns to Ciri and Jaskier quietly slips out. It is snowing, just a few flurries on the still air. The wolf flows him to the room they set their bags in. Geralt's room.
This was not how it was meant to go. This is not how it was meant to go. Yennifer was supposed to look at the doppler and then at him and go what the hell and they would slip away and break the curse on the wolf - on Geralt. And they would quietly change hands. The Doppler into the wolf. The wolf into Geralt. Ciri would not know of the quiet deception they had pulled. The magicians trick with revolving mirrors.
Because clearly the doppler loved them. Because clearly the doppler had chosen them. Do you ever think about how in the short story Geralt is ready to kill the doppler that wears his face and it knows this because it is also him so it turns into Dandelion. Because he Knows Geralt would never hurt Dandelion? It's falling in with a lie. It is so easy to in love with a lie. Jaskier knows this.
It was supposed to be like this. Laying in a bed in the Keep with a white wolf next to him. Playing ballads for Geralt and Yennifer and Ciri and not hurting. Because he'd lay next to the wolf at night and bury his face in its fur. And in the spring they would run off to the coast together. You can wear a different face, whatever one you'd like, and will prove to you again and again that I still love you.
I am good at loving people. You know this about me. I might not be able to love you first. That might be why you love me. Because I loved Geralt of Rivia first. So completely that whatever motive you had you abandoned for the sake of it. For the taste of it. I know what it is like to want so desperately to be loved. Wearing different faces and personalities in the chance that someone might.
I know that very well.
But unlike you I'm always still just Jaskier.
The wolf slips in the door behind him.
Jaskier rounds on him. 'What the actual fuck? What the fuck are you? You Promised me. You Promised me you were him." The medallion bounces off his chest and he hates it. Rips it from his neck and brandishes it like a weapon. "I kept this for you! I thought you were him! You promised me you were him! What are you?! I told you I would help you even if you weren't him! Why?!"
The circle of the medallion cuts into his hand.
"Is this funny to you? Bringing me all the way up here and making me look a fool?! Making me watch Geralt picker her Again? Is this funny to you? You and this sadistic game?!"
And he throws the medallion. It hits the wolf dead on. Hit's his bowed forehead. Right between the eyes. Just in front of his flattened ears.
He has always been a good shot.
It is snowing outside. Just a few more flurries. The winter stretches out, immeasurably long in front of him.
He knows who Geralt chooses. That those 'I love you's are lies. No. Not lies. Geralt did not mean to lie. Not intentional. But it was so easy when your heart is broken to bury yourself in someone that does. Love you. Drowning men love life boats but they'd much rather be on the ship that cast them out.
He knows. It exactly what he was doing too.
I love you doppler. I could love you too.
The winter stretches immeasurably long in front of him.
"I can't do this." There is a bag in his hand. A case. "I can't do this."
There is a whine but he does not hear it as he rushes out the door. He can't do this. Down the stone hall. Wind whips through a hairline fracture in the Keeps walls and cuts his cheeks red where they are wet. He can't do this. Out the doors. Through the large wooden gates. He can't do this.
The winter stretches immeasurably long in front of him.
In the great hall a sickening feeling curdles in Geralt's gut. Honestly its seeing Yennifer again. This is all so wildly out of hand. Even if he knows they need her. That Ciri needs her.
"It's startin' to snow. Your idiot better come back soon."
"What?" He turned to Lambert who had curled up in a mountain of blankets in the window nearest the fire.
"Said it's starting to snow, dumbass."
"No the other part."
"Peacock left a while ago. Think he had the right idea. If I'd know she was coming I'd have stayed down south."
"What?" Snow was coming down hard. Big wet flakes. Could hardly see the keep walls through them. "Why didn't you say so sooner?!"
He shrugged. "His dog went after him."
His gut does a funny thing then. It eases in relief before his brain catches up and yanks tight in terror.
The wolf went after Jaskier.
Jaskier is alone.
With the wolf.
In a snow storm.
Jaskier is is alone in a snow storm. He walks down the mountain alone. As he knew he would. Why did he think it would be any different this time? Why does he never learn? He is a fool.
The wind picks up. The snow buries the path. He huddles in a protected alcove and wishes he'd been thinking clearly enough to steal one of Geralt's cloaks. Just to be petty.
He is probably going to freeze on this mountain. Walking down it alone. He might die. But even if he doesn't something will have died. Something in his chest that he cradled like wounded bird.
How many times must you touch fire, how many times must you be burned before you learn? How many times Jaskier? How many times?
He pulled his doublet tighter around him.
Just the one more time it seemed. Just once more.
Barking. Just one voice barking. Barking into the snow and wind in the distance.
Are you looking for your pack? Did you get lost? Separated? I hope they find you. I hope they answer you. I wish I had a pack to call out to.
The snow drifts down in heavy blankets and there is nothing to do but sleep. All he wants to do is sleep.
There is warmth in his dreams. Heavy and warm and soft and reeking of wet dog and something deeper. Something less domesticated and tame.
"You found him?"
Geralt's voice. Deep and soft. Reaches him. Buried in the snow. Cruel and kind in equal measure. To make him hear that voice before he, probably, dies.
"... Thank you."
There is a gasp. He recognizes it. That shocked little inhale of Geralt's.
"I think... That druid overpaid."
He wakes up to a stone ceiling. To thick and heavy furs covering him. to a wolf pressed into his side. To a man known as the white wolf pressed into the other.
Words will find him soon. But for now they are held back by a dam of confusion and exhaustion.
Geralt reaches an arm over him and scratches at the wolf's forehead. "Hm." Got it. The hum says. The same one he uses when Jaskier reminds him to pick something up in town. Hm. Got it.
The dam breaks.
"Oh so you're just okay with each other now? Everything is hunky dory? Jaskier goes out into a snow storm and you drag him - Unwillingly mind you - back here and now you're best fucking friends?! Well it's not all A-O-Kay over here so perhaps you might let me up so I can demand Yennifer do me the solid of getting me out of this godforsaken keep?" He wiggled under the mountain of blankets that held him captive.
"Wha-" Geralt's hand pressed down on his chest. Preventing escape.
"Or you know just go back to the love of your life, take your one goddamn blessing and leave me be!"
"Jask-"
"Oh don't give me that- you're gonna run right off after Yennifer and we both know it and you," Glared. Bared his teeth at the wolf. "Are a lying manipulative bastard and I hope she turns you into a gnat or a pigeon or - or something!"
"Jaskier!"
His jaw clicked closed. He did not soften his gaze.
"We- He - it's not. He didn't lie."
He scowled harder at Geralt.
"You remember that druid Ciri told you I helped?"
"... Vaguely."
A woman and woman who was not her wife. But was. In his story, in his song, he would tell it as if she was.
You saved my heart, I don't know what I'd have done if she. She. Witcher how can I ever repay you?
What food do you have on you?
Uh.
Fine. We don't have time. Don't tell them which way have gone.
No that's not- perhaps the law of su-
No. No. Lie. That will be enough.
It's not!
"He," Nodded to the wolf. "Was how she decided to pay."
He studied Geralt. Then the wolf. Their matching golden eyes.
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
Geralt grimaced. Hair falling over his face. "He's a familiar. She made him for me. Of me."
He studied the wolf again, distrustingly. "How does that work?"
Shrugged a shoulder. "You'd have to ask Yen."
"Don't care that much." He tried to wave his hand and the idea off but couldn't get it free from the covers. "Shouldn't you have known then? If he's made of you?"
"We weren't... connected. You have to. Touch."
"Oh and she thought you'd just go out of your way to touch a big white wolf? Honestly what was the plan there? You'd have just killed the damn thing."
"Mhmm."
"Seriously what kind of mad man goes out and pets a two hundred pound wolf? Could have at least tied a note to its neck for explanation before setting it loose on the countryside, wandering around looking for you."
"It wasn't..." He hummed his prodding question. "Looking for me. That's not what it was supposed to do."
"And pray tell what was it supposed to do?"
Geralt was quiet. The charged quiet that said he knew the answer but didn't want to tell him.
Eventually. With a fair bit of glaring and wiggling on his part, he answered.
"She was repaying the favor."
"Oh and what's that supposed to mean?! What you saved her partner and she sent the wolf to go out and save yours?" He scoffed. "What did she magic you 'a white wolf to protect your heart when you could not?' as you did for her? Is that it? Absolutely absurd, I wouldn't write that drivel."
Neither Geralt met his eye.
"Geralt...?"
"That's..." He ducked his head. "Hm."
Right.
"But then why-"
A wolf appears in the darkness. All white fur and golden eyes. Protects him from the bandits. Brings him a rabbit when his stomach growls.
I love you Jaskier. I'm sorry it took me so long to realize.
They lay on the bedroll and Geralt kisses him like a thousand drunken kisses. Like a thousand sober ones. And the wolf follows after Ciri and comforts her when they cannot.
The wolf seeks him out in that ruined clearing while Geralt cradles Ciri. While Geralt debates with Yennifer and Vesemir over Ciri's fate. Her training.
I love you Jaskier.
Protect his heart, white wolf, when he cannot.
"Oh."
He let his head fall to the side. Watched Geralt watch him with those golden eyes he had memorized decades ago. Listened to the sound of his breathing that was more familiar than his own.
"Tell me again."
Geralt cocked his head a fraction. Brow furrowed in confusion.
"Tell me again, what I did not believe. If it is true. Tell me again. Geralt of Rivia."
"Tell you...?"
"I love you, Geralt. Despite all sense and reason. Do not lie to me. Do not pretend if I am fated to walk down that mountain alone again. Do not lie to me."
His eyes widened. He pushed himself up and over him. Caged him in his muscular, scarred arms. Shoved the wolf aside.
It grumbled. Huffed. Walked out of the room. Towards Ciri. Towards his heart.
"Jaskier. I love you." He said again.
And this time. This time he believed him.
"Then, You absolute fool and dullard." With only Geralt to hold him down he worked his arms free. Held Geralt's head in his hands. Traced the stubble of his jaw that he could, if he needed to, shave blind. From memory alone. "Kiss me. I have waited long enough."
Geralt leaned down and did.
He remembered the barking of a single wolf. It's howls into the storm. Searching for its pack.
I hope your pack finds you. He wished to its unseen form.
Mine did.
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Danse Macabre | Lee Minho
◤“One must always polish a heart made of stone. Until one’s fingers hurt, and no more polishing cleavers remain usable. Until one grows tired of the weight of a stone heart.”
In an attempt to win his fiancée’s heart, a prince journeys across the desert, where lifelong secrets come unraveled and nothing is quite what it seems.
◤Disclaimers: Female reader insert. This story is inspired by Arabian mythology. Descriptive images of violence, killing, and blood are included, please be careful. This is fantasy, with a fair mix of fluff and angst. All places and events are fictional and do not reference real life nations. Find a glossary with all the terms used here. Make sure to read this blurb before proceeding to avoid heavy confusion. Also, view the map and the tale of the lost prince of Tajilmalek to gain a better understanding of this universe (optional, but strongly suggested!).
◤Word count: 26.6K
◤Note: This idea is a 100% mine and any case of similarity with someone else’s is purely coincidental. Events are pure fiction. Please do not take my content without my consent. masterlist.
◤Dedicated to my friends and readers. Thank you for bearing with me, I love you all. Happy reading!
١
"Big day tomorrow, eh?"
Minho looked up from the papers strewn over his desk to find his cousin leaning casually on the embellished wall, an unmistakable gleam of mischief bright in his foxlike eyes. He ignored the flutter erupting in his heart, it seemed to make an appearance whenever his wedding was mentioned, and smiled, "Indeed."
"Don't you find it strange?" Jeongin picked himself off the wall and sauntered toward the desk of dark wood when Minho frowned, "What?"
"Jisung was telling me about this earlier," the younger royal started, "Think of it; all Tallilmalekan princesses married to foreign princes bear no children. It's always a second wife or a concubine."
"Where is this conversation heading?" distaste distorted Minho's features. The nobleman's son, Jisung, had a mouth for spreading rumors and speculations. He wasn't sure why Jeongin continued to sit in his presence.
The latter slumped uncharacteristically on one of the desk's adjacent seats, crossing one leg over the other. "Possible conspiracy?" he shrugged. "It's not as though you don't find the family's stiff behavior odd. Apparently, they've always been like that. Cold, stone-faced, and haughty."
Minho rolled his eyes, "And?"
"And," Jeongin's lips stretched into a knowing smile, "there are rumors.
"I mean, how would you explain the reoccurring cases of princesses unable to conceive, or the peculiar, nonchalant behavior of Tallilmalekan royals? Y/n is not the first one to not smile upon her betrothed."
"What are you implying, Jeongin?" the crown prince sighed, having grown tired of the discussion already. His weariness only seemed to amuse his cousin, who lowered his voice and leaned forward as if he had a secret to whisper. "Well, people say that there is only one reasonable explanation."
Perhaps to add suspense, Jeongin paused, making Minho's brow arch questioningly. "Which is?"
"Jinn."
Silence draped over the two like a velvet curtain, heavy, as the word settled into the air. Demons. Jeongin — or Jisung — was accusing you and your family of dealing with demons.
A loud, ebullient laugh had to escape Minho's lips.
"This isn't funny!" Jeongin exclaimed between held back giggles. "Don't come crying to me when your wife turns out to be a Sahira of some sort!"
"I'd be damned then!" Minho cleared his throat after his laughter died out, shaking his head. You were reserved, some would say too reserved, but Jisung was going overboard by bringing Jinn into the picture. "I should ban Han Jisung from entering the palace, right?"
"Maybe." Jeongin scrunched his nose then stood up, regarding the uninteresting mounds of work before his cousin. He was once more reminded to thank the Aliha he wasn't born an heir to the throne.
"Well, I will be leaving you to your work." He clasped his hands and a brotherly smile found home on his lips, "And let me be the first to congratulate you, cousin. I hope this marriage brings you happiness. May the Aliha grant you their blessings."
Minho grinned, giddiness twinkling in his eyes, "Shukran. Will we see you with a ceremony of your own one day?"
"Hopefully not anytime soon," Jeongin joked before bowing his head lightly. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight." Minho gave him an acknowledging nod but before Jeongin could turn and leave the study, the first scream shook the walls of the palace.
“What was that?” Jeongin’s eyes widened as a hand instinctively latched onto the hilt of his saif. Minho sprung from his seat, alarm wrinkling his forehead. “I don’t know, but whatever it is, it isn’t good.”
The two royals rushed out of the study, finding several guards running across the corridor and shouting orders to each other. Joining them, Minho asked above the ruckus, “What is happening?”
“Unsure, your highness, but the scream of a monster was heard coming from the Amira’s chamber,” a guard responded, and the prince’s heart dropped. Your rooms. Whatever made that sound, it didn’t promise well.
Rounding a corner, Minho finally spotted the group of guards assigned to your chamber clustered together as one of them knocked on the door repeatedly. He wanted to claw his flesh out. If a beast of some sort had managed to slip into your room, you’d be long dead with these foolish guards waiting for permission to enter. Perhaps it was time to re-examine the royal force.
Sheathing his saif, Minho stormed through the group of men, catching them off guard when he swung the door open and barged in. Manners were to be ignored in a life-threatening situation.
His grip was steady, courtesy of his many years of rigorous sword training, as his gaze fell upon the back of a monster twice his size, red skin glistening in the faint moonlight.
The guards grew silent.
The creature seemed to have the build of a man — two arms, two legs, and a head — but it was far from one. Tied hair as black as the eyes of a gazelle cascaded down its back and a pair of ivory horns poked through its head. That was all Minho could make out from the beast giving him its back.
It stood still, which should’ve raised suspicious brows, but the only thoughts on Minho’s mind were getting rid of the creature and finding you safe and sound.
So, without a second thought, he brought his sword down across the beast’s back, slicing it in half as the nauseating sound of metal cutting through wet flesh filled the room. It made no noise of pain as it toppled to the ground, facedown, splattering blood on its way. It was as if its soul were gone and all the Amir did was tear the body down.
You stood on the other side, unharmed, and Minho’s heart lurched in relief before he noticed the dagger between your bloodied fingers. Concern paired with obvious confusion creased his forehead as he sheathed his saif and stepped around the lifeless body toward you. He could hear the guards’ whispers rise in volume and Jeongin shushing them all. What in the name of the Aliha did I just kill and how did it get here?
“Y/n,” he began, voice taking on a softer tone. Your appearance showed no signs of struggle. The circlet holding the silk that fell over your hair was perfectly placed and you looked...indifferent as you regarded him wordlessly. The fact that a monster was lying on the floor of your bedchamber seemed to bother you none.
Minho was at a loss for words. “What...” his gaze gravitated back to the creature before moving to you. “What just happened?”
•؏•
If Minho arrived a moment earlier, he would’ve seen something that would change the course of your life forever. You were silently bursting with relief, for he couldn’t see the gaping hole where the Ifrit’s heart would’ve been before you clawed it out with a single hand.
The dagger in your grip was still pulsing.
You’d let your fiancé claim the kill for now.
“What just happened?” You could see, behind the mask Minho wore, all his bewilderment. How could you explain this without drawing the entire kingdom’s attention? A lie brewed at the tip of your tongue and you opened your mouth to speak, “It’s-”
You were interrupted by a deep wail that seemed to come from the ground beneath you. It shook the walls, making the guards look around in fear, and your eyes widened. There’s more.
You felt them before they crashed into the room and you dropped the dagger, grabbing Minho’s arm instead and running toward the door. “Watch out!”
The last syllable had barely left your lips when five smaller Afarit broke through the ground, sending debris everywhere and making the guards shout in panic. You forced your way through the chaos. The Afarit must not see you whatsoever. You might’ve been able to take down one on your own, but you weren’t very sure about a group of them.
Fortunately, Minho sensed the urgency in your steps and his legs moved faster, becoming the one to guide you through the grand corridors.
A blast of fire missed your head by a breath, and you turned around to find an Ifrit close behind. Seems like one caught up anyway.
The flaming creature of fire was in its natural form, which only you could see, and it was heading toward the two of you at an alarming speed. Minho tugged at your hand, confused as to why you stopped.
When he dared to glance at the other end of the corridor, color drained from his face like a wash of water on ink. It was burning, guards were fleeing, and smoke was slowly spreading through the air. Creatures he didn’t know the name of were pouncing upon the walls, leaving bright flames behind. They didn’t attack — they looked like they were looking for someone.
Which you knew. They were looking for you, or to be precise, they were looking for something you obtained.
Minho turned to face you, frantic, “What are you doing? What is happening— what are they?!”
You avoided his question, keeping your eyes on the Ifrit invisible to him. “Give me your saif.”
“What? This is not the time—”
“Give me your saif or we’ll both die.”
This time, he gave in and handed you his sword, unease dancing on his brows. A surge of energy left your fingertips when they came in contact with the leathered hilt, binding and fusing into the saif.
To Minho, you appeared to be glaring at air, but you were waiting for the moment the Ifrit shifted forms to attack. Not that you couldn’t strike it in its real form, but you’d rather not expose your identity so soon.
Just as you expected, the form of pure fire sprouted discernible legs and arms, a horned head, and snarling teeth. You didn’t miss the noise of panic that came from the prince. You almost felt bad for him. He was supposed to have a peaceful night before the next day’s festivities, not have his palace attacked by Afarit.
More guards streamed into the corridor as you raised the saif, just in time to slice it across the Ifrit’s middle. Normal weapons don’t kill them, but one infused with Jinn powers did.
The Ifrit crumpled to the ground with a spasm and a howl of agony, and the sword glowed red with an energy only you could see.
You turned to Minho, handing him his sword back and disregarding the way his eyes seemed close to popping out. “There you go. You can kill with it now.”
He only stared at you, and you were sure it’d be funny to know what went on his mind at that moment. “K-Kill?”
“Yes, well,” you inhaled, looking at the Afarit that noticed the commotion and were rushing to join the party, “We’ve attracted everyone’s attention. There’s no point in running now.”
٢
Minho took three seconds to snap back into reality and fix his stance into something more appropriate for a skilled swordsman like himself. “Stay back!”
You did what you were told, not to raise suspicions, and stepped behind him. Bringing a hand to rest on your chest, you felt the large emerald hanging from a thin chain around your neck. The Zumurruda. This is what the Afarit were after, and you’d die fighting to keep it in your hands, in one piece.
You’d seen Minho in duels before, you trusted his skills. He was renown across the three kingdoms for one thing besides his looks, and it was his swordsmanship. Yet, you couldn’t help but worry. What if all went astray and you had to brandish claws and horns to get out alive?
The shriek of an Ifrit pulled you out of your thoughts. It seemed to be leading the other three toward the two of you, finally sensing the presence of the Zumurruda. The prince was quick to slash his sword through its chest, but this gave another Ifrit the chance to pounce on him. You couldn’t see Minho’s struggle to fight it off because you had a problem to deal with on your own.
While he was distracted, the remaining two Afarit decided to go for the Zumurruda. For you.
You looked around, hastily making sure no one was watching before stabbing a hand forward and watching your fingers grow into blackened, sharp claws. They plunged straight into the first Ifrit’s chest, now that you let your magic take over, and grasped its heart. You pulled it out unthinkingly, making blood vessels stretch and snap violently, spilling blood where the two of you stood. The beating heart in your clutch should’ve repulsed you, but you couldn’t quite feel anything in that state. Evil Jinn didn’t feel.
The other Ifrit didn’t seem to see what happened to its companion and lunged at you with a snarl. As one toppled to the ground lifelessly, you felt the heart transform into a small blade and prepared to bury it in the next Ifrit’s guts, ignoring the faint pulse of the makeshift weapon. You raised the dagger, claws gone, but didn’t get to use it when a flash of metal cut through the approaching monster and brought it down. Temporarily.
Jeongin’s familiar face came into your vision. Half of the young royal’s face was covered in blood, and his once fine attire had lost a sleeve to the flames. He asked with a heaving breath, “Are you okay?”
You eyed the Ifrit that began to stand back up, answering him dismissively, “I’m fine.”
You crouched, letting your dagger cut through the Ifrit’s throat and feeling a rush of energy flow from your fingers and through the blade into its body. Simply, to kill it.
“These things,” Jeongin paused to stare at the dead Afarit, “they don’t die. How did you—”
“What are they to begin with?” Minho’s question came through labored breaths and you turned your gaze in his direction, seeing him push a lifeless Ifrit off. You convinced yourself that the flutter of relief your heart made was for the Zumurruda.
The prince sheathed his bloodied sword, eyes trailing across the corridor littered with blood, Ifrit corpses, and injured soldiers before resting on your face, as if you were the answer to a riddle he’d longed to solve. His features trembled with distress. “What’s happening, y/n? Why are there monsters in the palace— What brought them here? What kind of sorcery is this?!”
A cohort of guards ran into the corridor, stopping short in sight of the monstrous creatures, dying fire, and blood. You could feel a different kind of tension permeate the air and you sighed, glancing at your fiancé then at his cousin. They deserve an explanation.
You gulped, lowering your voice just so the conversation remained between the three of you, “Do you believe in Jinn?”
•؏•
“So, let me get this straight,” Minho ran a hand through his hair, disheveling it as he tried to take in all what you’d explained. “Someone is sending these monsters called Afarit to obtain the emerald you have, and you can’t let them have it whatsoever. No one can know about this.”
“Na’am,” you nodded for the millionth time, bored. The three of you were now at the library. Jeongin had wiped the blood off his face with a wet cloth, but Minho didn’t seem to bother with the patch of red blooming on his shoulder as he bombarded you with questions.
You never thought this was going to be easy, but it was becoming tiresome.
“Then why...didn’t this attack happen in Tallilmalek? Why here?” Jeongin frowned and you suppressed a sigh. “Tallilmalek is protected by a spell that prevents supernatural creatures like Afarit or Jinn from sensing the Zumurruda’s presence. Now that it’s out of Tallilmalek, everyone can feel it, everyone wants it for themselves.”
“You know this,” the prince shook his head, “You know this... Why would you take the Zumurruda out of the kingdom? What’s so special about it that it attracts creatures from the fires of hell?”
“I didn’t know they would detect it so soon, I’ve arrived here two days ago. Besides, I need the Zumurruda with me,” you stated, dreading the following question.
A pause.
“Why?”
You fell silent. Why? To find the Sahira’s Heart and free myself from the Jinni in me. To break the damned curse that has been ruining my family’s life for the last century. “I need it to...” but you couldn’t tell the truth yet, could you? “I need to return it to where it really belongs. The Zumurruda is a gemstone of great magic. It can’t fall in the hands of bandits or Jinn because it will grant them a power they shouldn’t have. This is my only chance.”
Half the truth will do for now.
Minho slumped on a seat with an exasperated sigh. “But it was safe in Tallilmalek!”
“Safe from Sahara and Jinn but not from humans! What do you think people would do with a gemstone of unimaginable power?” You snapped and Jeongin’s eyes widened. He looked at Minho then at you and felt as though he shouldn’t be witnessing this argument.
“Does Tallilmalek know?”
“No! This is why I don’t have much time to return it.”
“And when were you planning to do this?”
“I don’t know, tomorrow, perhaps?”
“What? You can’t do that!”
“What do you suggest then? Stay here and let more monsters have their go—”
“Tomorrow’s our wedding day!”
Minho’s voice rang through the air, bouncing off the walls to slam into your face and make you inhale sharply. The wedding.
You didn’t forget, but it was the perfect chance for you to sneak out and find the Sahira’s Heart. An arranged marriage ceremony wasn’t going to stand in your way.
Minho had stood now, glaring before he realized what he’d done. His eyes widened and waters of panic rippled in them. “Asif, I didn’t mean to—”
You shook your head. An argument was the last thing you needed in your brittle, dry relationship and you turned around to exit the library, leaving a troubled prince behind.
Perhaps you were being selfish, but there was no place for giving in, not when you’d gotten this close to fixing everything. Fiancé or not, Minho could do nothing to stop you.
•؏•
“Your Highness!” a guard barged into the king’s study, where he was discussing the previous night’s strange attack with his only son. “I apologize, Your Highness, but we have an emergency!”
The king raised his gaze to look at the uneasy guard. “What is it?”
Minho regarded the man curiously. What could it be at this early hour, and on this day?
He’d woken up with memories of the argument he had with you at the library. The image of you walking out wordlessly seemed to taunt him whenever he let his thoughts stray, and a feeling of dread settled in his heart ever since.
The guard bowed then straightened his posture, inhaling deeply before letting the terrible news hail on the royals. “The Amira cannot be found in her bedchamber.”
٣
If you are reading this, one of two things must’ve happened. I’ve died and a guard managed to return my journal home, or I’ve managed to do what the rest couldn’t and find the Sahira’s Heart.
I’m writing this on the first evening of our journey, and I suppose this is where it starts: reaching Al Mamsha.
The Zumurruda is pulling me toward it, a thin strip of land crossing Al Shaqq in Darilmalek. According to previous journals, it is guarded by Zarqa’a Al Yamama, an all-knowing woman with sharp sight and intuition. I am unsure about the encounter, but I’ve read al Amir Jinyoung’s report on crossing Al Mamsha which states that the traveler will be given a riddle to solve. Three wrong guesses and one will be forever trapped in the waters of Al Shaqq. All the past princes who chose to follow the Zumurruda took this path, so it seems that there is no other option. We’ll see how it plays out.
Al Amir Chan of Tallilmalek.
You closed the journal with a sigh. One of two things happened for sure. Prince Chan, who would’ve been a distant cousin, died in a thunderstorm while crossing Arrimal Azzarqa’a. Few crewmen survived the shipwreck, but his body was never found. He, too, sought the Sahira’s Heart.
Perhaps this was the fate of those who wished to the lift the curse and live freely. All the princes who dared to dream failed in the end, and the Zumurruda returned to Tallilmalek along with a story of their short journeys.
Perhaps it was a threat. A warning to force your parents, siblings, and all who came before them into accepting a life where love only brought misery. A curse that did nothing but make them fear what their sentiments could do.
You were raised to suppress the demon in you, a Jinni of pure evil, just like how the former royals did. For once upon a time, the most powerful Sahira known to the Alliance cursed your family with demon kids who murdered their beloved ones in cold blood.
Mages from across the land tried to break the curse, but none succeeded.
The only solution was to not have loved ones. One must not love, smile, or allow the tiniest affection to seep into their heart. Mother, father, sister, brother, husband, wife, friend — it didn’t matter. One must always polish a heart made of stone.
Until one’s fingers hurt, and no more polishing cleavers remain useable. Until one grows tired of the weight of a stone heart.
The pounding of hooves caught your attention and you looked in the direction of the noise, spotting a royal regiment cutting through the town. Leading them, you were quick to note, was the crown prince, Minho, your unfortunate fiancé.
Right, they would’ve noticed your disappearance by now.
Slipping out of the palace was easy, considering that the walls weren’t enchanted to repel Jinni powers like those back in Tallilmalek. You were gone by sunrise.
You felt the whisper of the Zumurruda, a foreign urge to travel east, and pulled your hood lower. The sooner you left the crown city, the sooner you’ll be able to use your powers freely.
As you made your way through the crowded streets of the city, you heard a shout coming from the soldiers, an order to put the city on lockdown. No one leaves. No one enters.
They’re taking the search seriously, you thought with a grimace. That would make things harder. You didn’t blame them, however. Relations between the kingdoms of the Arshilmalek Alliance had become shaky in the past years. A lost princess was a reason valid enough for Tallilmalek to wage war. A younger kingdom like Darilmalek would not survive.
You could almost sympathize with Minho. He seemed to truly care about the engagement, had always seemed to, yet you couldn’t show the smallest regard. For his safety, more than anything else.
He was another reason you wanted to break the curse.
Your steps quickened, hoping to reach the city’s borders before the guards did, but also trying to raise no suspicions. For a fleeting moment, you considered using your powers, but that thought was quickly thrown out of the window. There were too many witnesses. The last thing you’d want is to get accused of practicing forbidden magic and recreating the tale of the Lost Prince.
You could see the barren sahra’a ahead, just a few houses far, and hope blossomed in your heart. There it is, just an arm’s length away.
Then a shout accompanied by the terrible sound of hooves pounding the ground filled your ears and people began to clear the road in a panicked rush. You found yourself roughly shoved and uncomfortably squeezed between the people who moved to make way for the group of guards on horseback. You could barely move through them, and just like that, your chance slipped away right in front of you.
They’d reached the borders.
You muttered a curse under your breath and made your way through the people rather aggressively, earning a few strange looks that didn’t concern you. When you neared the set of guards, who were immersed in discussion, you pretended to be a foreign traveler and wandered off to the other, emptier side of the border.
Your first few steps went unnoticed, but soon enough, you heard a familiar voice command, “Qif!”
Too familiar. You halted but refused to turn around. The odds were all against you, you came to conclude when Minho arrived at your side, pulling the reins of his horse.
“You are not allowed to leave the city,” he said in a tone you never heard him use before, one that seemed to say my word is law.
You didn’t move or respond, which prompted the prince to speak once more, “Show your face. State your name, tribe, and your business leaving the city at this time.”
You bit your lip, although it couldn’t be seen under the shade of your hood, and thought to yourself, why did I not work on my disguise earlier today?
You wanted to slap yourself for being so foolish. Perhaps you were too...excited.
No guards joined the two of you, and after a few beats of silence, you decided to run for it. You might not be able to outrun a trained warhorse, but that would force Minho away from the rest, giving you a better chance at reasoning with him.
So, you did. You picked up your skirts and ran as fast as you could, past a startled prince and into the endless sahra’a. You heard Minho shout behind you, followed by a neigh of a horse, and you knew they were following you.
Running on sand was hard, and you were sure you were going to trip at some point. Although your lungs burned with each breath, you kept pushing yourself forward. Perhaps you weren’t made for such physical activity, you thought.
It felt like forever until Minho caught up to you — you guessed you had your powers to thank for that. His saif glinted under the harsh sun, and you were lucky to stop a few inches from the edge of the blade aimed at your neck. A chilling warning fell on your ears. “One more step, and I’ll chop your head off.”
You inhaled, waiting for someone to follow and letting your heart relax before shaking your head with a breath of a chuckle. “Chop my head off, eh?”
You didn’t see the way Minho’s grip stiffened, but you didn’t need to. You knew he recognized your voice.
Stepping away from the blade, you raised a hand to push your hood back and meet his surprised gaze. “I’d like to see you try.”
•؏•
Minho knew he’d made a terrible mistake when you were nowhere to be found in the palace. He thought it was his fault, and reasonably, he led the search the king ordered.
Although he hated to admit it, maybe the wedding wasn’t at all important in comparison to your mission. If you could prioritize it over an event that had been in planning for months, he could do the same.
After all, all the prince wanted was to show you that he cared. Just another meager attempt to try and make you dislike him less.
So, it seemed to be a complete strike of luck when you pushed off your hood to hold his gaze firmly. “I’d like to see you try.”
“I— La, I wouldn’t—” Minho stammered, quickly retracting his blade and dismounting the horse. He came to stand before you, silent as his gaze roamed over your features. Truth to be said, the prince didn’t know what he’d do if any harm befell you. When the guard shared the dismaying news, his heart dropped once more.
You seemed to like giving him a scare.
It was a relief to find you safe and unscathed, but unease still nagged at his chest. With an exhale, he muttered, “Asif. Forgive me.”
Your expression didn’t change, and he didn’t know what to take it as so he continued, “I realize now that the Zumurruda must be of high importance, considering that you were ready to escape the city to return it.
“I-I suppose the wedding ceremony pales in comparison,” he concluded and considered rambling on had you not nodded with a quiet exhale, “I apologize, as well.”
Oh? His brows shot up.
“It was selfish of me to disregard everyone’s work for my personal endeavors. But I hope you know that I cannot wait any longer now that the attack happened.”
“Of course—”
The prince was interrupted by a shout of his name, coming from an approaching figure behind you. “Minho!”
Not a guard, he remarked, noting the informality. Only then did he notice how far the two of you were from the city. He could see it, but it was a fair distance away.
You were a fast runner, he mused.
“There you are!” Jeongin’s voice became more discernible as he neared. “Someone saw you running off after a traveler. You were taking long.”
The younger royal didn’t notice you, almost trampling you over when he pulled the reins of his horse. He didn’t seem to notice Minho’s glare either. “Some claim that they spotted the Amira somewhere along the center of the city— What’s with the glare?” he frowned in confusion and looked around, finally spotting you, arms crossed and brow raised. You could practically hear his thoughts as his eyes expanded. “Oh.”
“Oh!” he repeated, this time surer, and lowered his head in embarrassment, realizing what he’d almost done. “My deepest apologies, y/n. I didn’t see you there.”
You bit back a retort and moved your head in the merest nod, “All’s fine.”
“You have to be more careful,” Minho tutted and Jeongin chewed on his bottom lip sheepishly, “Na’am.” His gaze ricocheted between the two of you before lighting up, “I suppose I should tell the soldiers to stop the search, then?”
“La,” the prince raised a hand, making his cousin look at him strangely, and turned to face you. You rarely showed interest in anything. The Zumurruda was something new. Perhaps this was his chance to improve things between the two of you. By taking interest in what mattered to you and joining you on this journey, he might be able to step a little closer to your heart. Or so he thought.
He might’ve anticipated the wedding, but he wanted to help you return the Zumurruda to where it belonged. “Let me join you.”
“What?” the question came from you and Jeongin, although he was a little louder with it. Minho only gave you a small smile, “I want to help you deliver the Zumurruda, if you’d allow me.”
You were careful not to gape at him. What changed over a night? You couldn’t help but ask, mindlessly, “But…what about the wedding?”
“If you can put other things before it, then so can I. The Zumurruda is more important, no?” a part of Minho was bursting with happiness. This is the most the two of you have talked away from the eyes of the court, without unnecessary formalities and stiff words. What seemed like a nightmare in a suit of flame was turning to be a blessing in disguise.
You nodded slowly, “You’re right.” You’d be lying to say you didn’t like the sound of Minho’s request. The princes that took this journey before you had all traveled with scouts, you didn’t expect to have the smoothest adventure alone.
Minho’s heart seemed to hammer in his chest as you thought over his suggestion. It wasn’t a decision he made in the spur of the moment – it was rather something he’d been contemplating all morning. There was no guarantee you’d agree, and he wouldn’t object if that were your choice, but he prayed to the Aliha for the opposite response.
He hoped he didn’t look too giddy when you finally made up your mind, letting out a breath as if the decision were a task that had worn you out. “I suppose I would appreciate some company along the way.”
A genuine smile broke on the prince’s face, and he looked at his cousin, “You have to come with us as well.”
“What– why?” the younger male did a terrible job of hiding his astonishment, but that didn’t seem to affect Minho. “I’m sure we need as many people on this journey as possible. Besides, I can’t have you returning to the palace now that you know about this ordeal.
Jeongin sighed, with undertones of a groan, “So, I have no choice.”
“Somewhat.”
You watched the two, slightly amused, before clearing your throat, “It’s the three of us, then?”
“Yes,” Minho nodded firmly then clasped his hands, “Where are we heading?”
You guessed if a citizen of the crown city looked far enough, they’d spot the three of you gathered in the middle of the desert and think it was an oddity of the current times. Silly or not, you began explaining the details of your journey. The details you knew of, that is, excluding the parts about the Sahira’s Heart and the curse. “We will be following the Zumurruda.”
“The gemstone makes its bearer feel a pull toward its home. No one has managed to reach it yet, but some have been remarkably close,” you pulled out the Zumurruda from beneath your tunic, laying it on your open palm for them to see. “As of now, it’s telling me to travel east, toward Al Mamsha.”
“Then east we shall go,” Minho announced. “Do we have all we need?”
“Do you have money with you?” you remembered to grab a heavy pouch of coins before escaping the palace, you wouldn’t need more with your powers anyway. Now that you had two more people with you, the money might not be enough.
“We do,” the Amir glanced at Jeongin, as if to make sure. “But is that all?”
“It should be enough. It’s better to travel light and stay the night in villages along the way.”
Your answer didn’t seem to convince the two, and you added with an awkward cough, “Either way, we cannot return to the palace to bring tents and food without raising questions. No one can know about this.”
Even if Minho wanted to let his hesitancy take over, you were the one who knew the most about the journey, not him. If you’d left the palace with the merest belongings for the trip, he would trust to do the same.
A beat of silence allowed your words to sink in the sand. That’s when Minho realized the kind of adventure he was sauntering into. Unpredictable. Perilous. Secret. Something that would challenge the very skills he’d spent all his years honing. It would either make him or break him.
He was oddly excited.
“We should get going, then. Day is only too long.”
You didn’t respond — you didn’t have to. The hood now pulled over your head was enough to say, “follow me,” and Minho thought he’d imagined the ghost of a smile on your lips.
•؏•
You began seeing the shimmering blue of Al Shaqq when the sun became hazy and low. The trip was exhausting at best, in the blazing heat and the dry air, and you quickly sympathized with the many messengers and trade caravans cutting through these sands for a living. You were beyond relieved when the thin strip of land became visible.
Although, if you thought you were tired, you couldn’t imagine the tiredness Minho was going through. Before you began your trek, he offered you his horse to ride and he continued on foot from there. Sometimes, he’d switch places with Jeongin, never for too long, however, and never with you. You supposed it was only expected. He was a prince, after all, and what was a prince without shining manners?
That didn’t stop you from offering your place repeatedly.
The three of you stopped at a small village some hours prior to satisfy your hunger and buy any necessities for what’s left of the journey. You were grateful no one outside the crown city recognized royals without their grand escorts.
This allowed Minho and Jeongin to trade their rich silks for less distinctive and more appropriate attire, as well as an additional handful of coins and two camels in exchange for their fine breed stallions with the promise to return them.
No one asked when you loaded your small caravan with food and water and resumed trudging through the golden grains.
Along the way, you’d explained to the two Darilmalekan royals why you decided to go on this journey without your family knowing. The repetitive pattern of princes trying to find the Sahira’s Heart wasn’t a coincidence. Only princes seemed strong enough to handle such a task and your parents would never let you, a princess, dirty your delicate hands with such an atrocious feat.
You’d explored your Jinni powers enough to know you wouldn’t have to dirty your hands, at least not until they became clawed and monster-like. And in that case, it would be your assailant’s concern, not yours.
Al Mamsha was a curious strip of land, one cursed with many legends by heat-struck travelers. It stretched across a rip in the desert filled with seawater, as though it were a bridge to the mountainous province of Darilmalek. Not many villagers settled nearby, as there was no use to be made of seawater and a land haunted by myths.
Only few dared to cross Al Mamsha. Only those few knew what really inhabited that piece of land.
You were about to become one of them, but you knew what, or who, guarded Al Mamsha. And you dreaded your meeting.
“Is that it?” Jeongin squinted at the enormous body of water before you. It was almost intimidating. It didn’t look this big on the maps.
On the dune where you observed, you could see the sandy line called Al Mamsha. It was empty, to your surprise. Your answer came coarse with nervousness, “Yes.”
“Should we cross it?” Minho seemed dubious, almost afraid when he asked, and you gulped. You will cross it, just like Chan and the other princes did before you. “The Zumurruda is urging us forward.”
Yet none of you moved for some moments of quiet anxiousness. Al Shaqq looked unreal, and its infamous Al Mamsha only reminded you of the many wonders you were yet to see, the many giants you were insignificant in comparison to.
Glancing west, Minho exhaled and patted the neck of the camel that carried you, “We must continue.”
But even the animal’s steps seemed reluctant.
As the three of you approached Al Mamsha, you kept an eye out for something to appear and stop you from advancing on to the sandy road. There was nothing but a clear, lifeless path, and you continued forward.
The camels halted to a stop at the mouth of Al Mamsha, making you frown in confusion as you patted the animal, “Why did you stop?”
It didn’t answer you, but your answer came from beneath the sand.
You wouldn’t believe it if you hadn’t seen it with your own eyes. A woman emerged from the sand, fair and young, dressed in a fine white kaftan with a matching turban crowning her head. Perhaps what stunned you the most was the bright, striking blue of her eyes, a shade you’ve only seen in sketches of her. Her aura was eerie, and she was looking right at you.
When she spoke, her voice seemed to come from the depths of the earth. “You shall not pass.”
You weren’t afraid, but rather in mute awe. This was her. This was—
“Zarqa’a Al Yamama,” you breathed, ignoring the petrified stares Minho and Jeongin were giving you and making the woman shake her head solemnly. “That would be my great grandmother. I am Lia, the Guardian of Al Mamsha.”
Strange, that was not mentioned in the journals. You cleared your throat, pushing your thoughts back. “Pardon me, Sayeda Lia, but we need to move forward.”
She did not miss a beat. “You shall not pass.”
The prince then swallowed his shock and stepped forward, finding his best regal voice, “As the Crown Prince of Darilmalek, I ask of you to grant us passage.”
“You shall not pass.” Lia did not spare him a glance, her crystal blue eyes fixed on you.
You saw Minho’s hand reach for the hilt of his saif from your peripheral vision and you asked again with urgency, “Please. Is there anything we can give you in exchange for our clear passage?”
“I need not your mortal gifts.” Her voice boomed around you, despite being in the open, wide sahra’a.
At that, Minho grabbed his sword and you held your breath, waiting for those words to fall out of her dainty lips like in every journal.
Lia crossed her arms, and her eyes blazed like blue flames. “You shall only pass if you solve my riddle.”
There is it, you hoped your satisfaction didn’t take form on your face. “We will solve your riddle.”
Beyond what you thought was possible, her eyes glowed brighter, almost white in their brilliance. You had to squint and look away.
For a short while, there was silence, then her words came out grim and haunting, “Solve my riddle and you shall pass. Fail thrice and you shall perish.”
You held your breath, rummaging through all the riddles you’ve read or heard and kept for this critical moment.
“I can only be kept once I have been given. What am I?”
You haven’t heard that one before.
Inhaling stilly, you turned your head to look at Minho, meeting his worried gaze just as it fell on you. He rubbed the camel’s neck, making it sit for you to dismount.
Off the mammal’s back, you swallowed a lump of anxiousness and asked, “Any ideas?”
The prince shook his head and his cousin mimicked, finally dismounting to stand with the two of you. It seemed as though they were too afraid to speak.
Your gaze wandered to the sand beneath you as a whirlwind of thought took over your mind. Something that can only be kept if given…but that’s contradictive!
The paradox helped you rule out all material things, since things like coin cannot be kept after being given away. That left all things abstract — emotions, thoughts, bonds.
“Give…” you muttered then a guess sparked in your mind and you blurted, “Kindness?”
Lia frowned, and you could’ve sworn the ground trembled. “Incorrect.”
Foolish move, you scolded yourself mentally and avoided the concerned looks coming from the Darilmalekan royals. Think, y/n!
Something to be kept. Something to keep…keep your…keep my— your eyes widened when it struck you. It only makes sense!
“I think…I think I know the answer,” you whispered, and Minho questioned carefully, “What is it?”
Jeongin stepped closer and you made sure to keep your voice low. “One’s word.”
You knew you were right when realization lightened their expressions. An encouraging look from your fiancé made you step forward and speak, this time confidently. “The answer is one’s word. One can only keep their word once they’ve given it.”
When the blue-eyed woman remained silent, you waited for the ground to rumble and her to declare your second failure. Yet, nothing happened.
Lia nodded after several moments of silence, and you thought you imagined her subtle smile, “Very well. You have succeeded and therefor, you shall pass. But be warned, brave travelers, for the journey ahead is perilous, and the Isle of the Damned is no place for those of weak will.”
“Shukran.” You didn’t try to hide your relief, turning to mount your ride before she spoke again, “Your animals cannot move any farther into the Isle of the Damned. You are to travel on foot.”
You didn’t question her, recalling a statement you’ve read in a journal some months ago. The Sahira’s Heart left corruption in its wake, breathed chaos into its air, and spread malice in the land it rested in. Animals from the pure land will never venture near.
“Without them we travel, then,” you adjusted the clasp of your cloak as Minho shook his head, “We can’t leave them behind. We promised to return them.”
“Worry not, ya Amir, the animals will return on their own,” Lia informed. “Go on, travelers, before night awakens the beast resting in Al Shaqq.”
The beast resting in Al Shaqq. Many legends were told about the unnatural body of water, most known was the myth of the Falak, the great serpent that carries the world. It has been said that its child sleeps at the bottom of Al Shaqq. Any travelers crossing Al Mamsha at night would be its next live toy. Although, no travelers have dared to approach that land during the night yet.
You didn’t want to be the first.
A wordless exchange of glances darted between the three of you, and with a long exhale, you took your first step unto Al Mamsha.
•؏•
“This is absolutely preposterous!” the Tallilmalekan Crown Prince threw his arms in the air, frustrated. Changbin had been enjoying a Finjan of coffee when he overheard the news of your disappearance from a pair of oblivious guards, and it riled up the Jinni in him instantly.
Your brother stormed into the Darilmalekan King’s study, forcing the panicked advisors to leave when they noticed the frown etched on his handsome face. But before he could voice out his anger, a guard barged in, carrying news of Minho’s and Jeongin’s disappearance as well.
It made perfect sense in his mind. The had prince taken you and run away.
Changbin disliked your fiancé, but now, he seethed with aversion toward him.
“I am sure you know what this means for both kingdoms,” he said through gritted teeth. This marriage was your parents’ last hope at mending the deteriorating ties between Darilmalek and Tallilmalek. It seemed like Minho had other plans, however.
“If they are not found soon, I am afraid Darilmalek’s end would be two hundred years of independence.”
The king stood from his seat abruptly, recognizing the threat but being unable to acknowledge it. The fate of his people’s freedom relied on his meager words, and his hands were tied on the matter. The old king kept his tone firm and regal, “I trust my son, and I am sure no harm will befall the Amira with him. He will return, or we will find them.”
Changbin wanted to scoff but he settled with muttering spitefully before exiting the study. “Well, I don’t trust him.”
When he left, the king fell back on his chair, helpless. Oh, ya waladi, what have you done?
•؏•
They call it the Isle of the Damned, yet I believe it is unfair to the villagers settled between its mountains and dunes. We have crossed Al Mamsha and spared an hour of sunlight to find a place and raise camp for the night.
To my utter surprise, we found an unmarked village a little over an hour’s walk away. Its villagers offered to house us in their homes and serve us dinner. Such is the fine hospitality of the people of these sandy lands.
When the sun rises, we will be continuing east. I am unsure of the journey’s path after this step. No surviving journals clearly state where the Zumurruda leads after Al Mamsha.
Nevertheless, some speculate we are heading toward—
You quickly shut the journal when you heard a rustle from the other side of the partition. It was almost as though you were performing a play and Chan’s journal was the script. You crossed Al Mamsha safely and found a small village not too far away. Seeing that the three of you were travelers, the villagers welcomed you into their homes unhesitatingly. They sat you for a hearty feast then showed you to a place they’d prepared.
Their generosity wasn’t surprising. The three kingdoms maintained strict traditions in hospitality, no matter the guest’s origins or story. This was your first time experiencing it firsthand.
A partition was placed for your comfort between your bed and Minho’s and Jeongin’s beds. It was helpful when you wanted to read without them asking questions, but you could never be too carefree.
The rustling stopped, and you thought it simply was one of them shifting in bed before a faint sound caught your attention. “Y/n?”
You held your breath. Why is he not asleep?
For a couple of beats, you said nothing, thinking that if you remained silent, the prince would return to sleep and you to reading in the dark — one of the gifts you were born with. Perhaps it was guilt that made you finally whisper back, you owed him at least that. “Yes?”
“Oh���you’re still awake.” he was muttering, but you were sure you heard a hint of relief in his words. Hope. You couldn’t pinpoint the reason, but it made your heart clench uncomfortably.
There was silence again before he murmured, sounding almost defeated, “You should try to sleep.”
“You should, too,” you said after hesitating. “Who knows what awaits us tomorrow.”
Minho hummed then, and with a few rustles, he said nothing more. You assumed he’d fallen asleep.
A silent sigh left your lips and you looked at the journal between your hands. What am I doing?
This journey was one you’d wanted to take for a while. You’d barely begun, but unease was quickly creeping into your heart.
If this were a play and you were following a script, would it end with the same tragedy that befell Chan and the many princes before him? Were you only inching closer to your doom?
La. You forced the voice in your head silent and tucked the journal away. You were not going to fail because you had one thing these princes were too scared to use. You had a Jinni inside you, and you were not afraid to use your powers when needed.
This journey will not end up in failure.
Finally lying down, you let your eyelids drop, exhaustion taking over easily. But just when you were ready to surrender to sleep, another sound startled you awake. Not a whisper or a rustle of sheets, but the unmistakable unsheathing of a sword.
٤
Hyunjin could feel it in his bones. He could smell it in the air, that sickeningly sweet scent of power. The Zumurruda was close.
He’d been alerted a few days ago when the Isle breathed with life once more. Someone had taken the Zumurruda out of Tallilmalek, again.
This time, he was getting his hands on it.
Finding the bearers of the gemstone wasn’t hard. They didn’t travel with an enormous escort like those ridiculous princes. Just that mere trio of them, with little baggage and a mysterious aura.
One of them caught his attention. A young lady whom his spies of Afarit reported to have a strange energy surrounding her. He’d assumed it was a spell of protection casted on her by a relative’s request, or that she was a magic meddler. Only now, as he stood in a room of sleeping people, did he realize what that restless energy was.
Jinn.
She was half Jinni, and her companions knew no better.
She carried the Zumurruda.
What a short, sad tale, he wanted to chuckle as he unsheathed his sword and prepared to strike her sleeping figure.
What he didn’t prepare for, however, was for her to spring up at the sound and shout, “Qif!”
This successfully awakened the rest and before Hyunjin could react, the edge of a saif was pressed under his chin.
“How did you get in here?”
A male’s voice, but it sounded nothing like a sleeping man’s. A terrible realization dawned on him. None of them were asleep.
Did she feel his presence like he felt hers? Was he walking right into a trap?
La, Hyunjin was far too powerful a Sahir to fall into mundane traps.
“You shouldn’t be asking me this question,” he answered and tossed his saif to the ground. There will be no need for it anymore.
In the dark, he could see her expression change as realization dawned on her too. A faint smirk drew itself on his lips when she whispered urgently, “Be careful. He’s a Sahir.”
“Be careful indeed,” he mused, “Spill a single droplet of my blood and your family shall be damned for eternity.”
“What brought you here?” even if he had understood the warning, the young man did not retract his sword.
Hyunjin could see things a regular human couldn’t see, and he could clearly make out his assailant’s features. Sharp yet dainty and undeniably handsome. He could pass as an Amir. Once upon a time, he would’ve been someone Hyunjin rivaled against.
The Sahir shrugged. “I’m here for the Zumurruda.”
A hush of silence befell the room and Hyunjin knew they knew.
When the young lady spoke, the red aura around her shook angrily. “We do not have what you seek.”
“Is that so?” he raised a brow. “That’s odd because I–”
“Kafa! You will leave or I’ll cut you down where you stand,” the young man holding the saif threatened. Hyunjin wanted to laugh. “And risk centuries of bad luck and misery on you and those who succeed you? You’re one brave young man.”
“We don’t have the Zumurruda,” the girl repeated, this time with more emphasis, “but we know where to find it.”
At this, the two other individuals in the room seemed taken aback. The saif even lowered a little bit.
Foolish humans, Hyunjin mocked inwardly. That was a lie and he knew it. “Oh, really?”
“Na’am.”
He would play along, that was more fun.
“Then take me to it.”
He saw how her pupils trembled. She felt something, he was sure. She knew that he spotted the lie, but she continued with it. Foolish, foolish human.
“You can join us.” Her proposal was met with a sound of protest from the back of the room, but it was not acknowledged. “Whatever your intentions are for seeking the Zumurruda, we can settle them when we find it.”
“But, y–”
Perhaps it was for his personal entertainment did Hyunjin agree. The young man’s almost-objection was a bonus. “I’ll join you.”
•؏•
“Dead? All six of them?!” The man glared at his subordinates angrily. A lord of thieves like him shouldn’t be facing such adversities, he believed, yet his good for nothing underlings couldn’t even retrieve a simple gemstone.
He let out an exaggerated sigh and rolled his eyes, “I shouldn’t be surprised. If one wants anything done around here, one must do it themselves.”
He reached for the lower compartment in his desk and pulled out a book as old as the world. A cloud of dust rose in the air when he placed it on the surface before him. “This one’s tough, huh?”
“Very much, sir–”
“What are you two imbeciles doing still standing here? Move!” his outburst made his two henchmen scurry out of the study, barely avoiding tripping over their own feet on their way.
He rolled his eyes after them for the nth time, wondering why he couldn’t find better minions. Right, these two idiots are the only ones who remained alive.
Flipping through the worn-out pages of the book, his eyes scanned the titles until he found what he needed. “There.”
His lips stretched into an ugly grin as he read over the lines of the summoning spell. “You might’ve been able to defeat the Afarit, but let’s see how well you can handle this one, bearer of the Zumurruda.”
•؏•
“Well, then, I’ll see the three of you by sunrise,” the strange Sahir remarked and before you could say anything, strong wind broke through your temporary home. You turned your face away from the harsh winds but when you looked back up, he was gone. As though he never stood there.
What...was that?
“What just happened?” you heard Jeongin whisper-exclaim and you reached up for the nearby mishkah, lighting it up and watching as its brilliance washed over the room.
You had no idea yourself.
“I don’t know.”
“Y/n— were you not in your right mind? How can you offer to let a stranger, and a dangerous one at that, accompany us?” Minho was baffled, to say the least. Didn’t you say this journey was extremely dangerous and secretive? When did you start letting strangers unto your plans?
The partition that stood in between hid the distressed look on your face. How would you explain it to them? That stranger had a bizarre aura, something was off with him. Too much power, something similar to the energy that radiates off your siblings and off you. Something not entirely human.
“He’s dangerous, Minho,” you resorted to saying, failing to realize how his name rolled off your tongue easily, almost naturally. “He knows we have the Zumurruda. Sharing it is the only solution that doesn’t include bloodshed or eternal damnation.”
“But you can’t trust him, can you? Can we?”
“That’s why we have you.”
Perhaps it was exhaustion that made you say something so…unguarded. For a fleeting moment, the real you peeked at the world. No Jinn to be concerned with, no curses, just what you really wished to say.
You knew you appeared to dislike the prince, it was a façade made to fool your Jinni half. You tried to ingrain that in your mind through your actions and speech, everything you did was planned and calculated to keep the monster at bay.
But some rare times, the closed off bit of your heart would speak. You didn’t trust the Sahir, but you trusted Minho. That would be enough.
When you received no response, you lay back down, clutching the Zumurruda as you murmured goodnight. You’d rather not hear an answer to that.
On the other side of the partition, Jeongin looked at his cousin with a raised brow. This is new.
If he knew no better, he’d assume the prince had forgotten how to speak. The saif in his hand hung limply at his side as he stared at the makeshift wall made of palm tree fronds. An unexplainable expression illuminated his features.
What did you mean? He didn’t want to believe what his mind told him. Why would he give himself such hope?
Sighing, he shook his head and dropped his sword on the side of the bed. It was too late in the night and his thoughts had been strained enough. “Goodnight, Jeongin.”
“Goodnight.” The younger royal continued to watch him, curious but also sympathetic. In a way, he didn’t understand the manner in which his cousin thought; why he kept trying to make you see him as someone other than an unlikable betrothed. But in another way, he understood completely.
Minho loved you, and it was something almost magical. No matter what you did, the feelings he’d garnered over the years only burned brighter. And although Jeongin complained about how hopeless your case was, he was almost sorry for the prince.
Hundreds were ready to dedicate their lives for him, yet the only life he cared about was one with you.
•؏•
The sun brought a new day with it despite your weary limbs’ complaints. You rose with an unusual sense of unease in your heart. You dreaded what this day held for you.
The Sahir was indeed there when the sun rose, looking as though he didn’t plan an ambush at the dead of night. He introduced himself as Hyunjin, and you ignored the uncanny familiarity of the name.
That morning, the Zumurruda’s pull directed you south, away from the mountains. It came as a surprise, considering that in Chan’s journal, he mentioned moving east. You don’t remember reading about the Zumurruda changing routes…
“Do we know where we’re heading?” you felt his presence before you heard his voice, dark, corrupt. It made all your senses perk up.
Hyunjin fell in step beside you, and you didn’t have to steal a glance at Minho to know that a scowl was beginning to form on his face. The three of you were walking side by side while the Sahir trailed a few steps behind. What made him join, you guessed, was to bother you.
The orb of light in the sky was lathering the golden grains of sand with formidable heat, and the blows of wind were doing very little to help any of you cool off. You were not in a state to be bothered.
“Shamal.” Your response should’ve showed that you didn’t want to talk, but it seemed that Hyunjin couldn’t take the hint. “Yes, but to where? We can’t just be traveling south blindly.”
“To a place, that’s for sure.” You let out an exasperated breath.
“Your vagueness is quite–”
“You should learn to understand people’s tones,” Minho cut him off, sounding uncharacteristically hostile, not unreasonably though.
“Ah, it’s the angry saif man,” a sickeningly sweet smile drew itself on Hyunjin’s lips. “I haven’t forgiven you yet for threatening to kill me.”
The Amir only glared in response and you began to regret the moment you offered to let the Sahir join you on this trek.
“It honestly baffles me. What is someone like you doing with them?” he reminded you of some ladies at court. Those who only yapped gossip and rumors. Maybe you should’ve let Minho kill him when he had the chance.
Your silence only prompted him to continue, enjoying the way his words made the energy around you crackle angrily. “Really, what need do you have of two common swordsmen? Are they guards of some sort? Or are you perhaps…” his gaze traveled between the three of you before a knowing smirk made an appearance, “Ah, I see now.”
At that point, you were sure he was purposely riling you up. Stopping short, you turned to glare at him and for a blink, his eyes glowed red. You thought you’d imagined the face of the Devil in his, a terrifying sneer and evil eyes.
Hallucinations, you pushed your worrying thoughts back. “I don’t appreciate you speaking that way– What in the…” you trailed away when a shadow fell over the four of you, blocking out sunlight completely. Even Hyunjin grew silent.
Daring to look up, you were met with the silhouette of an enormous bird, circling over you like a predator.
“Um...what is that?”
You were too scared to answer Jeongin’s question, you weren’t even sure you wanted to know the answer. “I-I don’t know but it doesn’t—”
The ginormous bird stopped circling the air, and with heart-stopping realization on your behalf, dived headfirst toward you. A shout was leaving your lips before you could process what was happening. “Run!”
A Rokh. You’ve read about the mystical bird in ancient books. It lived in the highest mountains, at the very peak, and summoning it required a forgotten and forbidden spell. Fear, for a reason other than the beast trying to have you for lunch, flooded your heart.
Someone was trying to stop you.
The squawk that rang at your ears was deafening, and you found yourself falling to your knees while pressing the palms of your hands against them in pain. A violent blow of sandy wind resulting from the Rokh swooping in was almost enough to push you off the ground. You would’ve lost all sense of the world had that unsettling feeling not made an appearance. The same warning that came from the depths of the earth before the Afarit attacked at the palace.
You stood with a start, wobbling a little as you tried to blink the sand out of your eyes. Something was coming.
The Rokh was back in the sky, putting you in the inconvenience of darkness. Alone. You tried to find the rest, tried to find Minho, but the sand obscuring your vision made it an impossible feat. Panic quickened your breaths. Where are they?
You thought you saw a figure approach you and you called hopefully, “Minho? Is that you?”
The howling wind responded instead. You tried to walk closer. “Jeongin?”
Then you began noticing something weird about the figure’s walk. It wasn’t a walk, you realized when you squinted at it. It was a hop. And at that, you noticed that no matter how close the figure got, only one half of its body was visible. One leg, one arm, half a head, and half a torso.
That was when you became convinced you were living a nightmare.
Before you could attempt to run away from the Nasnas, it pounced on you, sinking its single clawed hand through the layers of cloth and into your shoulder. The scream that left your lips wasn’t entirely yours, but of the other soul sharing your body. Feral, as it tore through the bonds you’ve trapped it with.
Pain had blanked your mind out, so you didn’t quite understand what you were doing when you reached for the monster’s only shoulder with a clawed hand. The Nasnas let out a terrible shriek when your claws sunk into its skin, making it lose hold of you and reel back. You didn’t stop there.
Power came in immense amounts when you let your Jinni half make an appearance, but so was the hunger for bloodshed. You pulled, dislodging the arm and tearing it from the body. The spray of blood that fell over you sizzled, but that was the least of your concerns. The limb turned itself into a sword in your grip and you spun to slash it through the agonized Nasnas. Its tortured screams came to a choked stop.
Your heart should’ve hurt you from the strength and frequency of its beats, but you were instead staring at the mutilated body of the monster that attacked you. Its pale skin was splattered with gruesome red, the same shade dirtying the precious yellow of the sand. A strange sign on its forehead caught your attention and you leaned closer to examine it before a shout came from the distance. “Y/n!”
Cold dread prickled your skin as you straightened up instantly, praying no one saw you kill the Nasnas.
You were quickly assured that no one saw you, simply because they were all being attacked too. The wind had settled, and you were able to find your companions each stuck in a throng of bloodthirsty Nasanees. The sight made the Jinni inside you feverish. More to kill.
La, this wasn’t you. You weren’t a cruel killer, the secret sword training sessions you’d have with your brother didn’t make you one. But it only made sense to curse a family with the most violent Jinn there was, no?
You spotted a few monsters hopping toward you and Minho not too far away, who was cutting through the beasts as he ran to you. This is going to be an ugly fight, you thought with a grimace when you noticed the bleeding scratch on Minho’s cheek. You forgot you were almost completely covered in blood, both yours and the Nasnas’.
Just don’t get too carried away, you reminded yourself, looking up to find the Rokh still flying above you. Or just get out of this alive.
The Nasanees reached you first, but you were ready this time. Fighting wasn’t something you did regularly beyond the quiet training court, but it was almost second nature when you let your powers take over.
Your saif stabbed through the first Nasnas’ middle and you pulled it sideways, cutting a clean line through. This seemed to be a distraction because the second monster decided to lunge at you while the former one toppled to the ground. The force of the impact drove you to the ground, making it a struggle to push the Nasnas off you. A struggle, but it was not impossible.
You managed to roll out of its grip, sparing no time to plunge your sword into its back to kill it. Standing back up, you expected another monster to attack, but the one that was reaching for you had the bloodied tip of a saif poking through its chest.
It crumpled to the ground when the sword was aggressively retracted to reveal Minho standing on the other side. The erratic rise and fall of his chest was very visible as his gaze trailed over the lifeless bodies sprawled between the two of you. A delirious grin stretched his lips when he looked back at you. “Where did you learn to fight so impeccably?”
“Changbin taught me.” that small smile was yours. “Are you okay?”
You didn’t miss the way he faltered for a moment at your question before answering, “I’m okay. Are you?”
It was an ironic question, considering the blood that tinted your skin and filled the air with that nauseating stench. “I’m good.” The wounds on your shoulder would heal in no time.
Your gaze moved to where you thought you saw Jeongin, skillfully countering all the attacks aimed at him. It seemed to be a Darilmalekan thing. “We should help him.”
Minho nodded and immediately rushed to where his cousin fought. You followed, gaze gravitating back to the Rokh in the sky. You had enough trouble on the ground, the threat up above was only adding to the tension.
Some Nasanees came in your way but taking them down was easy. You’d never found yourself in a fight until recently, and you realized how different it felt to fight alongside someone. There was a wordless, mutual understanding between you and Minho; protect each other’s backs, simply.
Maybe you liked the way it felt.
From the corner of your eye, you could see Hyunjin, standing with his hands clasped before him and eyes a hellish red. Any Nasnas that approached him would either drive its claws into its own guts, chew off its hand, or attack one of its kind. He was controlling them, manipulating them, and an angry thought crossed your mind. He could help the three of you, but he had chosen to stand aside and watch you get killed.
Because he knows we have the Zumurruda. What good does he gain from saving us?
You gripped your sword tighter, slashing it across a snarling monster. We’ll survive just to spite him, then.
“What are these creatures?” Jeongin asked with a shout when he spotted the two of you near. Your saif sliced through a Nasnas’s throat and you came to stand beside him, heaving a breath, “These are the kind of offspring you get when a Jinni and a human are the parents.”
“They keep coming!” Minho’s desperate exclamation made your stomach flip. They kept coming, indeed. No matter how many you killed, there was always more to surround you. You doubted any of you would be able to last long enough.
You can finish them all, a voice in your head suggested, wicked and sinister. Just let go. Let me in. Let your true self show.
La! You pushed the voice back, but it was of no use. You saw blood wherever you looked, pale corpses wherever you stepped, cries of aggression wherever you listened. Next to you, Jeongin’s left sleeve was torn away, exposing an ugly gash across his upper arm. Minho, a few monsters away, was suffering more than a single scratch. Your shoulder pulsed with a numbing ache.
Too much.
It was too much.
You could no longer keep track of the swings of your saif or the creatures falling lifeless at your feet. This ambush was bound to destroy you.
And perhaps what finally snapped the cord was the ear-splitting squawk coming from above. Daring to look up and finding the Rokh heading straight toward you, you lost all awareness of the world.
It felt as though something was tearing through your guts, burning, boiling. Your voice was no longer yours as a wrangled scream left your lips. It might’ve been pain from the Nasanees that pounced on your doubled over body or what was rising within you, but when you opened your eyes again, you only saw red.
Standing up, you felt almost weightless. The monsters that came in your way were like sticks to snap with your clawed hands. Your sword flashed between the masses until you were standing alone. They’d all been killed or had escaped; you didn’t care. Your attention was fixed on the Rokh.
To any onlooker, you supposed you looked deranged, standing in the way of the giant bird. But maybe that mattered little compared to your appearance. Red, blazing eyes, dark, horrifying horns, and bloodied, blackened fists. You were still human, but not quite.
In the background, someone called your name. The voice made your head pound with pain, but you ignored it, raising your saif and flinging it right at the approaching Rokh. The action took no effort, but the sword swiveled through the air with unhuman force, landing in the narrow joint between the bird’s wing and body. Any regular weapon would do it no harm, but this was a cursed sword, surging with Jinni powers.
The Rokh’s wings flailed with a thunderous squawk as you felt your powers bleed into its body, leaving a trail of havoc and corruption. You watched as it thrashed in the air, hurtling toward the ground at an alarming speed, but you didn’t run away. The giant bird fought against the venomous magic, you felt it, but it was losing the fight, easily. It wasn’t long before it crashed into the ground, limbs folded in awkward positions, sending a great puff of sand into the air and forcing you to shield your eyes.
Finally, there was silence.
The wind was quiet as the enormous creature spent its last, excruciating moments. It was as though the universe had held its breath, and only the untamed beating of your heart was apathetic enough to make any noise.
The nightmare was over.
A tingle ran across your skin as you eyed the destruction around you, the chilling bloodshed. Repulsion, disgust, or horror were nowhere to be found in your heart, and you knew why. The sight only made the little voice in your head quiver in exhilaration.
But then, even that voice went silent. “Y-Y/n?”
You spun around in a beat, and a crushing realization struck when your gaze fell upon the Darilmalekan prince, his cousin, and the Sahir. Oh, no.
The reality of the situation dawned on you as your conscious rushed back in. You’ve made a terrible, horrible mistake. The flames in your eyes died out as you returned to your normal form, horns and claws disappearing like illusions.
Hyunjin looked oddly amused, Jeongin was blatantly petrified, but what hurt you was the expression of pure fear distorting Minho’s features. Great going, a voice in your head mocked, you’ve crushed whatever crumbling bond the two of you had.
No, what hurt you the most was the fact that his fear was directed at you, caused by you.
A demon in human skin.
٥
“I-I can explain— I—” the stutter in your voice made you feel small and vulnerable. It felt foreign, wrong. You weren’t a weakling, never were.
Yet, you had never been more helpless.
Minho’s expression changed very little, but he managed to blink once, twice, and thrice before forcing his gaze to the sandy ground. The pulsing ache on his cheek was long forgotten as he inhaled shakily. What he had seen couldn’t be real. It didn’t make sense at all. Yet it happened. Horns erupted from your forehead and claws extended from your fingers, he saw it happen right before his eyes.
For a moment, the monsters were pouncing on you, but in the next moment, you were cutting your way through them with utter ease and terrible violence. Killing, you made it seem easy and simple. There was no remorse on your face.
That wasn’t you.
But...it was.
Daring to look back at your distraught face, he felt his throat run dry. He didn’t know what to say.
Sensing the awkward, still tension, Hyunjin sighed, “Are we waiting for another attack? We should get going and leave explanations for later.”
“R-Right,” you mumbled, letting your gaze fall to the ground and turning southward to resume your long trek wordlessly. Hyunjin followed you instantly, disregarding the bodies scattered across the ground and the large, lifeless bird lying nearby.
You avoided looking at the carcasses as you trudged ahead, finding that one worry was more than enough to keep your mind occupied. The two royals soon followed, but they stayed back — not that you were paying attention, of course.
The wound on your shoulder was almost healed, courtesy of your Jinni powers, but Minho and Jeongin had injuries that should be tended to. They were slightly deep scratches which they cleaned along the way, unwilling to interrupt the walk. Their silence hurt you more than it should’ve.
You’re being sensitive. Get ahold of yourself! A voice scolded inwardly.
The journey was appropriately silent this time, even the Sahir remained quiet as you crossed the sands. You stopped a few times to rest and reenergize, but no words were exchanged. At least not between you and anyone else. You thought you heard Jeongin mutter something to the prince a few times.
That was better. You had more time to think about the reasonable explanation you’d give them later. But even the slow hours of sunlight didn’t seem to be enough, and night befell the desert sooner than you liked.
You reached another village by then, just as you calculated earlier that day, and seeing your bloodied attire and terrible states, the villagers ushered you into their homes quickly.
They offered your group the change of clothing you needed, a place to wash up, and some medical supplies — you didn’t have to pretend to clean your healed wound.
Then, you were sat for dinner in the isolated guest house of the village. The suffocating tension only increased then, and none of you found the will to satisfy your pleading stomachs.
Seated in a small circle around the food, quiet much like the previous hours of the day had been, you dared to be the first one to break the unbearable silence with a sigh. “I think it’s time for an explanation.”
At your hushed words, Minho’s head snapped up, and a similar look of hesitant curiosity illuminated his cousin’s face. Hyunjin, however, smiled, eyes twinkling red when you thought you were hallucinating. “Ah, finally. Go on, demon girl, tell us.”
You caught the dark look Minho threw his way but decided to ignore his words, collecting your thoughts with a deep inhale. The food will be getting cold. “This story is a long one.”
“My family,” you paused, remembering that Hyunjin didn’t know of your royal status, “has been cursed for around a century.”
The prince’s eyebrow arched at this and you took that as a sign to continue your tale. “During the first century of the Arshilmalek Alliance, internal conflict was wreaking havoc across Tallilmalek. The royal forces were in a state of war with the citizens of the kingdom, many were lost due to those attacks. One...of my ancestors fought in a minor battle against the citizen-made forces. The fight took them near the mountains, where the house of one of the most powerful Sahirat was built. The fight was brutal and violent, and it unfortunately killed many innocent children and women. The Sahira’s child was one of them.
“The child and his mother were heading toward their home when they got caught up midst the fight. The mother tried to escape and protect him, but one soldier suspected her of being a threat and shot an arrow in her direction. The soldier...was my ancestor, and his arrow went into the child’s heart.”
Deadly silence settled in the room when you stopped talking. Your story wasn’t over, it had barely begun, but you gave a moment of silence for the innocent soul lost to the raging fires of war. Not a breath was heard, even the wind outside seemed to hush down and listen to your dark secret. An echo of the Sahira’s cry of agony many, many years ago.
“The Sahira caught the bleeding child in her arms with a cry of distress,” you gulped, hating how vivid the scene seemed in your head, “When her eyes landed on the culprit she screamed at him, a curse that would haunt him and his successors forever. May you never forget the pain of loss.
“The soldier thought nothing of her shouts, and while he felt a pang of guilt in his heart, he returned to the fight. Some weeks later, the war ended with the victory of the crown. The soldier went back to his wife, who was pregnant with his son at the time and nearing labor. It wasn’t long before the couple welcomed a new member to their family.
“At first, their son seemed like the other kids. He played with his cousins, he studied with his elders, and he loved his parents very much. But on his sixth birthday, the first incident took place. His mother had gone to tuck him into bed, but never returned to her room. When...the husband went to look for her, he found her in his son’s room, lying in a pool of her own blood. The hole where her heart had been gaped at him, while his son cried over his mother’s body, hands bloody.
“When asked, the son would say he didn’t know what had happened. His mother was there, then she was dying on the floor of his room. It made no sense for a child, only six years of age, to commit such a heartless crime! So, the man decided that an assassin had slipped into his house and murdered his wife, and the boy was put back to bed.
“Some weeks later, in the darkest hour of the night, a scream was heard in the man’s house. He woke with a start and rushed to the source of the sound, which led him to the stables. There, he found his son hunched over the disfigured body of a pony. His pony, he realized, but that didn’t matter as much as the horns erupting from the boy’s forehead and the claws stretching from his fingers.
“His eyes glowed like fire when he snapped his head to look at his father. Something pulsed in the child’s grip, but the man was too terrified to try to know what it was. His son looked like an Ifrit.
“Luckily then, the little boy snapped out of it and dropped to the ground with a sob when he saw his dead pony. The terrible truth had revealed itself to the man, and he found himself remembering the Sahira’s words that day. The first Jinni child had been born.
“Devastated, the man installed extra protection in his house, sent his son to all the Atiba’a and Sahara in the city, and tried to find a way to reverse the curse. But it was all in vain. Many tried to exorcise the Jinni inside the little boy, but none succeeded. No spell nor medication helped. The man gave up then, but the nightmare didn’t end there.
“News reached him that his niece, a few years younger than his son, had murdered her sleeping father and attempted to kill her mother too. The curse had spread to the entirety of the family. Every child born after the war had a Jinni inside them, thirsty for their loved ones’ blood.
“The family denied the curse in the beginning, but when the attacks increased in frequency, they knew they had to find a way to live with it. The parents began to treat their children coldly, to spark dislike and detest in their hearts and protect themselves. When the new generation of half-Jinn took over, they took the liberty to understand the Jinn inside them and develop ways to keep them in check.
“My family became known for their lack of emotions. Generation after generation was taught to carry no feelings to avoid waking the Jinn up. But to replace that hole in their hearts, they began to discover what having a Jinni inside oneself gives from power.”
You dared to tear your gaze from the carpet, sighing as though telling that story was a wearying effort. Quite literally, it was. “What you’ve seen earlier was only some of it.”
“Some of it? There’s— there’s more?” Jeongin’s disbelief didn’t mask the fear in his tone. You couldn’t blame him. You’d be scared of yourself too. “Na’am.”
“And you have full control of the Jinni?” the Sahir seemed intrigued, which didn’t soothe the unease you felt near him. You avoided his eyes when you answered, “Most of the time. It would awaken on its own due to the curse if I’m not careful with my feelings.”
“So, we are all in danger of your Jinni waking up and slaughtering us in our sleep?”
The question shouldn’t have made your chest tighten, especially coming from Hyunjin, but you could feel Minho’s intense gaze on you. Somehow, it made the words coming out of your mouth hurt.
“La, I have no feelings for any of you.”
At this, the prince stood up, excusing himself in an incoherent whisper before rushing out of the room. His cousin soon followed after giving you a confused look, which left you alone with the Sahir.
You knew it would be impolite to leave the food untouched, but you had no will to eat. If anything, you wanted to throw up. Perhaps it was how exposed you felt. No one outside the Tallilmalekan palaces knew of the curse, and no one should.
You’d just broken that, and to none other than your betrothed.
Why were you frustrated?
“You know,” Hyunjin sighed and you looked at him with your lips pressed in a straight line. The Darilmalekan royals were no longer around, you could finally confront him freely. You had much to say. “What?”
“You and I...we’re the same.” You noticed that his hand was closed over a charm he wore around his neck. It wasn’t there before.
“How so?”
“You felt it, didn’t you? That strange energy.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you denied. What did this stranger know?
When his eyes began to glow red, you wanted to look away, but it was as though something in them pulled you in. The other soul in you stirred, almost in recognition. Or repulsion.
Something was wrong with the Sahir.
“You felt my presence that night, that’s why you warned Minho, right?” when you didn’t respond, he pressed, “You felt the Nasanees before they came. Don’t you see? Our souls speak the same language.”
You had to get away. This Sahir wasn’t a normal one, something was very wrong. “Pardon me—”
“It’s the whisper of corruption, bloodlust, hell. Like calls to like—”
“Kafa! What do you know about the curse?” you snapped, letting your eyes blaze red threateningly. It only made Hyunjin smile, slow and cryptic. “Oh, I know more than you could imagine, demon girl.”
•؏•
“It seems that Han Jisung was right, for once in his life,” Minho remarked when he sensed his cousin’s presence nearby. He’d left the guest house for a breath of fresh air; it was becoming suffocating inside.
The moon had hidden that night, as if it knew of the events that would unfold and preferred to not witness them. The prince wished he could hide too, return to his palace and his normal life, and forget everything. No magic gemstones, no hellish monsters, and no half-Jinni princesses.
Was he frightened by what you had confessed? Not much. Overwhelmed could be a better word. He didn’t know what to make of this new information. You, who he thought he’d known throughout his life, turned out to be someone else.
Or not.
It conflicted him. You were still you, still his Amira, right? That had always been you, claws and horns, even if he’d never seen them before.
Then why did his heart hurt so much?
“I have no feelings for any of you,” Jeongin repeated your words with a shake of his head. He could almost sense the moment his cousin’s heart collapsed. “I’m sorry, Minho.”
Right, that.
It made perfect sense to the Amir, and he despised it. Your never-changing indifference toward him, your stiff behavior, his useless efforts — you were protecting him from yourself.
No matter what he did, you’d never open your heart to him. You couldn’t risk it.
What did you mean the previous night, then?
It was...unfair, and Minho knew it was silly of him to say. What were the odds of helplessly falling in love with a half-Jinni princess?
The prince sighed, letting his shoulders sag dejectedly, “La ba’as. I suppose we...were never meant to be.”
“Don’t say that...” Jeongin pursed his lips while giving him a sharp look. His cousin was never one to give up, not after a hundred dry smiles and nonchalant words. Something had always pushed him to return those smiles sincerely, to not let rejection bring his spirits down. But the light in his eyes dimmed, and for the first time ever, he looked truly defeated. He knew how much this certain defeat affected him.
“I’m sure there’s a way to fix this.”
Minho gave him a small, sad smile. It was visible despite the darkness of the night. “I’m not sure anymore, Jeongin.”
“But—”
“I think...I need some time to think about it.”
“Alright. I’ll give you some space then.” Jeongin gave in, biting his bottom lip as if keeping in anything he wanted to add. With one last look at Minho, he turned around to return to the guest house. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” the prince mumbled after him. He wasn’t sure if space was what he needed because it seemed to make his thoughts double in loudness.
Not meant for each other, the voice in his mocked. Should’ve lost hope long ago.
Perhaps it was time to lose hope and move on. Better now than wait for his heart to be crushed further.
Minho didn’t want to, but he would try to disregard his feelings.
You seemed to do a great job of that. It shouldn’t be too hard, right?
•؏•
It was impossible.
When Minho awakened the next day and caught sight of you, none of the previous night’s sentiments mattered. He knew he was being a fool, but he couldn’t leave his heart behind. At least, not so soon.
Who was he without loving you?
So, Minho carried his saif and resumed the journey, following you to wherever the Zumurruda guided you.
The sun wasn’t any kinder that day, but no enormous birds were to be seen and for that, you were grateful. You led your companions south, as the Zumurruda continued to compel you. It was a little worrying, as there were no marked villages along your way. You might have to spend the night in the open desert if no solutions came across your minds.
“Can’t you use your...powers to set camp when it’s time?” Jeongin wondered and you shook your head, “La. I can’t transform sand into a house.” It wasn’t a body part you could make weapons out of...
“Oh, well.” He puffed out his cheeks, slightly disappointed. You suppressed a smile. The tension from the previous day had lessened, which was a great relief. You weren’t sure you would be able to handle another suffocatingly silent walk. Although, Minho still didn’t say much.
“What’s the worst that could happen? Have none of you slept under the moon before?” Hyunjin rolled his eyes, missing the look exchanged between you and Jeongin. Royals don’t sleep in the open.
“No, we haven’t. But I suppose there’s nothing to worry about,” the younger royal said. “Y/n, you’ve got Minho, and I have my pouch to sleep on... It wouldn’t be so bad.”
You glared, and an embarrassed cough came from where Minho walked. It only made a mischievous grin grow on Jeongin’s lips.
Rolling your eyes dismissively, you shut your thoughts out before they became dangerous. “We might find a Waha along the way. There’s still a long day ahead of us.”
“Pray to the Aliha we do,” Jeongin muttered, raising his head to squint at the sun, “It’s formidably cold during the night.”
And you did. You wished in your heart for somewhere safe to spend the night at before lapsing into comfortable silence. The four of you traveled undisturbed for several hours, stopping to rest before continuing your seemingly endless route.
No signs of life crossed your path as the sun inched westward. No villages or caravans, not even a tree or a well. You’d begun to worry when the sky’s blue poured into a light purple, until a dark bush in the distance caught your attention. “There’s something ahead!”
It was too late for a mirage to fool you, and the closer you got, the clearer it became. The dark bush rose to become the tips of a cluster of palm trees. You’d found an oasis.
You found yourself rushing toward it as if it would slip away like a fragment of your imagination. Your prayers were answered after all. You wouldn’t have to sleep the night in the cruel cold.
The oasis wasn’t big, but neither was it small. You walked through several rows of trees before reaching the heart keeping them alive, a spring of water. It was more than you could’ve asked for.
Running to the water, Jeongin was the first to plunge his hands in and splash his face with it. Hyunjin disregarded him and found a palm tree to lean on while Minho stayed back, looking around before announcing, “I’ll gather tinder to light a fire.”
“I’ll join you.” Jeongin stood and unsheathed his saif. If Minho had given him a discouraging look, he didn’t see it before following him deeper into the oasis.
You were once more left alone with Hyunjin.
You decided to sit at the base of a tree a little away from the Sahir, still unsettled by his presence. Bringing out a bundle of tamir, you chewed on a piece to recharge when Hyunjin asked, “What kind of tinder are those two planning to collect with their suyoof?”
You took your time before swallowing your food and answering him nonchalantly, “I suppose they’ll be cutting some fronds from a low nakhla.”
The Sahir nodded wistfully before shaking his head as if in disbelief. “It still strikes me as a wonder why the two of them are accompanying you on this journey. You clearly don’t depend on them.”
You ignored him, instead taking notice of the thin crescent moon smiling at you from its reflection on the water. There’s some light tonight, you thought, mind wandering off to Minho’s and Jeongin’s whereabouts. You could hear the sound of branches being chopped off not too far away.
“Ignoring my questions only confirms my assumptions, y/n. You’re using them, aren’t you? What else would a half-Jinni want with useless humans?” Hyunjin pressed, almost as if desperately trying to dig out an evil plan from you. It was beginning to become annoying.
A ‘tsk’ left your lips as you rolled your eyes at him, knowing that he could clearly see you. “I am not using them, Hyunjin. They are my companions.”
“Companions? Pathetic,” the Sahir chuckled dryly. “Jeongin, I think I can understand, but the other one? What company does he provide exactly? All he does is brandish his saif around and glare. Or is it the face you’re keeping him around for?”
You didn’t understand it completely, but something about Hyunjin speaking about Minho that way bothered you. What did the Sahir know about him to talk like that?
You knew you were letting your emotions have the best of you when you replied bitterly, “He has a name, you know. And he’s my fiancé.”
You didn’t have to look at him to know he was lifting an eyebrow. His uncanny interest sent a chill up your spine.
The conversation was fortunately cut short when Minho arrived along with Jeongin, each carrying a few branches. They set on kindling the fire in no time, and a bright flame soon lit up the area. The shadows that danced on the palm trees were almost eerie, but that didn’t bother Jeongin as he plopped on the sand wearily, dropping his bag and sighing tiredly. He didn’t care to eat something before wishing you all a good night and dozing off almost immediately. You didn’t question his behavior, finding yourself eager to do just the same. If only the ever so faint ache in your heart would quiet down.
The cause of that ache, you knew, but found no courage to confront.
You weren’t a fool to deny that Minho’s silence bothered you more than it should’ve. It was as if he were purposely avoiding you, and if you were to be honest, you missed the meager talk you’d share with him.
You might never be able to talk to him normally again, just when things began to better. With that thought, you gave up on trying to fall asleep and took on gazing at the dotted sky. It had become so beguilingly silent that you would’ve missed the faint rustle of a sword running through sand. Almost.
You snapped your head in the direction of the sound, and that was when you noticed that on the other side of the spring, someone was awake.
Perhaps just as conflicted with thought as you were, Minho had chosen to lean on a tree away from the three of you. He, too, had trouble falling asleep.
He couldn’t see you like you’d seen him, clear and beautiful despite the dark. As he’d always been.
Looking around, you found that the Sahir was asleep, or at least seemed to be. You held your breath. That was your chance.
Gulping anxiously, you pushed yourself to your feet and walked carefully through the sand and around the glimmering eye of the spring. It didn’t take long for the prince to notice you, for he stopped playing with his saif and laid it on the ground gently. Something flashed in his eyes, unexplainable, when they rose to regard your approaching figure.
For a moment there, you hesitated. What if I’m doing the wrong thing? But that thought was shoved away by the words that fell out of your lips thoughtlessly. “May I sit?”
Minho’s response came in a whisper after a few beats of silence, as though he was in disbelief. “Of course.”
You mustered a weak smile, which went unseen, before sitting beside him on the hardened sand. You could see the fire flicker and wave at you from across the spring as if it were wishing you good luck. You needed it.
“Have you eaten?”
Your question was met with a shrug. “La... I’m not hungry.”
You hummed in acknowledgement before letting silence take you into its suffocating embrace. You’d run out of things to say, and you dreaded delving into the topic. But you knew that there was no escaping it, that this might be the only chance you’d get to talk in privacy, so you inhaled deeply and pushed down your worries.
What’s the worst that could happen anyway? You’d tried all what the universe had to offer.
“Do you remember Changmin?”
Minho was slightly taken aback by your question, but he nodded nonetheless, “Na’am. Why?”
He remembered your little brother. He was only a few months old when he was announced dead in an assassination. It was said that mourning over his death killed the Tallilmalekan Queen.
Your gaze was trained on the crescent in the sky as you spoke, letting yet another family secret free. “Ummi had done a great job with raising the three of us. She’d repressed her Jinni excellently. But with his birth...her biggest fear lived.”
The air stopped in Minho’s lungs when a ghastly realization struck about what you were telling him. Your little brother was not assassinated but rather—
“Perhaps she’d thought she was safe, so she let her heart loose,” you paused with a heavy sigh, “It was only a few months before we found her wailing over his lifeless body, covered in his blood. It...killed her.”
The Amir couldn’t speak. His tongue felt too heavy to lift. When you’d first explained the curse, he thought he’d encompassed the horror of it. He was wrong.
You sighed again, knowing that your story must’ve been unpleasant to hear. “I-I suppose what I’m trying to say is...asifa. I owe you an explanation for all that’s happening.”
When he remained quiet, you continued, “I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors, and there is some truth to them. We’ve kept the curse in our family for as long as we can remember and as a result, people began to take notice of our outside relations and political marriages. We can’t afford to torment more innocent people with the crimes of our ancestors. I-I know I can’t ask this of you, but I hope you would keep some understanding in your heart. I don’t want you to be hurt— I don’t want to hurt you.”
Minho would’ve thought he imagined the last few words had they not repeated in his head like a prayer. Suddenly, he felt like the most selfish prince to walk upon the land. There you were, worried that you’d hurt him, while he was letting his own heartbreak blind him. You didn’t choose to live that way, why was he putting the blame on you?
“You don’t have to apologize,” he spoke, startled by the strange rawness in his voice. “It’s not— it’s not your fault.”
You wanted to laugh as you brought your gaze down, but a shiny object caught your attention instead. The ring encircling the prince’s fourth finger reflected the thin moonlight elegantly, almost mocking in its pride. You didn’t recall seeing him without it ever since your engagement ceremony a couple of years ago. It made your heart lurch weirdly.
Looking back at your bare fingers, guilt crumbled like a brittle statue in your chest. La, you had a lot to apologize for. “It’s not that.
“Ever throughout our lives, I’ve made you feel unwanted for no apparent reason. You deserve much better than that, had fate not been so cruel. Asifa, for despite all my efforts, you are still in danger.”
“What do you mean?” Minho gulped, making you chuckle sardonically, “Have you tried fighting your heart before?”
You didn’t expect an answer, but you still paused before continuing, “It’s not easy... You don’t make it any easier either.”
When you’d spent your life cutting your conversations as short as can be, it felt almost liberating to speak with the prince for that long. You decided that maybe, you’d let your guard down for the night. Just this once.
But while you savored the sweetness of that momentary freedom, Minho felt as though he was running out of air. Was that a slight confession, or was exhaustion finally getting into his mind? He was glad you didn’t push for any responses from him, or else he might’ve said something undeniably foolish.
You had too much power over him, and he doubted you even knew.
“S-So,” the prince cleared his throat. He shouldn’t get too happy, not with the curse still holding you down. “that’s how it’ll stay?”
You didn’t have to ask to know that he meant the odd relationship the two of you had; hidden feelings and unrequited love. You smiled weakly, “La. There’s something...you should know.”
At that, Minho hummed, prompting you to proceed. And you did, with an undertone of excitement. “There is a way to break the curse.”
“The Sahira who created the curse had enchanted a stone heart to absorb all her magic when she dies. It is called the Sahira’s Heart, and it is hidden somewhere in the Isle of the damned.
“Shattering the Sahira’s Heart would destroy all the curses she’d laid. To find it, the Sahira created the Zumurruda.”
Minho was quick to put the pieces together and he concluded with newfound hope, “And the Zumurruda actually leads to the Sahira’s Heart.”
“Correct,” you nodded. “Many princes have tried finding it before me, but as you can see, none succeeded.”
“Why?”
“It’s a dangerous journey.”
“Why are you taking it then? Aren’t you...afraid?”
His question caught you off guard. Following the Zumurruda had always been a purpose you ran after. Never had you stopped to think about fear. Sure, you knew that the journey wasn’t a passing breeze, but were you afraid?
You shrugged, “La.”
“And I know you might be thinking that if the princes before me failed, I should know better than to follow the same route. But you must know that unlike those princes, I am willing to use my powers,” you exhaled, voice dropping to a murmur, “even if it costs me dearly.”
It was at that moment Minho knew that he would follow you to hell and back unhesitatingly. He was bound to you until the sky falls, and a curse won’t be changing that anytime. “I’ll be with you then, Amirati.”
You smiled, swiftly calming the ripple of flutters in your heart. “Shukran—”
The word stuck in your throat like pebbles in mud when a gust of unease slammed into you. Something was wrong.
No, something was approaching.
You stood with a start, eyes darting from one side to another in suffocating anticipation. This was different. Unlike the Afarit or the Nasanees, it felt big, and far more dangerous. Untamed.
Like calls to like, Hyunjin had said. That thing wasn’t your like.
It felt more like the complete opposite. The Jinni in you seemed almost...afraid.
Your sudden actions made Minho frown in concern, “Is something wrong—” he didn’t get to ask because right then, the ground rumbled, and you reached for him with an exclamation, “Look out!”
٦
The onyx horn appeared to glow in the night. You would’ve been in awe had it not been connected to a terrifying creature, and had it not made you feel lightheaded. This is not good.
The Mi’raj. None of the sketches you’d seen of it prepared you for the sheer horror of the monster. What seemed like an enormous rabbit had fur the color of Qahwa, claws that ripped from darkened paws, eyes that pulsed red, and a magnificent horn that crowned its head. It had an appearance that was so abominable that the Jinni in you repulsed in disgust...or fear.
The beast grunted as it lunged at the two of you, not sparing a moment for you to catch your breath. Pushing Minho out of the way, you threw yourself to the other side and scrambled to your feet when the Mi’raj halted to a stop.
You tasted sand, and Minho shouted above the commotion, “What’s happening?”
“I don’t know. Wake the rest!” You cried as you avoided a stab from the beast’s horn by a hair. You tried calling on to your powers, but it was like lighting a fire midst heartless wind.
It was of no use.
You resorted to running for your life when it caught the bottom of your cloak and ripped it apart. It followed you relentlessly as you stumbled along your way through the palm trees. But you could only run away for so long, and you knew that eventually, it would catch you. Desperation was beginning to savage your heart as helplessness closed in on you.
Why can’t you summon your powers? You opened the doors for your Jinni to take over, but it stayed hidden. It refused to make an appearance.
You were to deal with that monster alone.
That was the first time you’d felt genuine, raw fear, and you never wanted to experience it again. How ironic.
You thought you heard shouts coming from behind, but you couldn’t distinguish them from those in your mind. The Mi’raj seemed to target you alone, and you didn’t have to guess to know why. It, too, came for the Zumurruda.
The Zumurruda.
Oh.
An idea struck you like a splash of water under the blazing sun and you fidgeted to pull the gemstone out of your tunic. You made an abrupt turn, which resulted in the Mi’raj crashing into a few trees. This bought you a few seconds to hold the Zumurruda and call on to your powers again.
The Zumurruda was a relic of great power, and you thought that if you could pull its magic into yourself, you might be able to defeat the Mi’raj. You only had to figure out how to do that.
Your muscles burned from running in the sand, but you couldn’t give in to the pain. The Mi’raj was back on your trail sooner than you wished, but that didn’t matter because you found an opening in the Zumurruda’s pull. A loose thread, and you pulled at it eagerly.
You opened your soul to it, much like you did to welcome your Jinni powers. The Zumurruda’s magic felt cold, corrupt, and it would’ve made you shy away had you not been desperate for anything to save yourself.
You didn’t know if your hands had gotten cold, but the gemstone was suddenly too warm. Magic, so corrupted and viscous, seeped into your system. For a beat there, you realized the mistake you’d committed.
This was the same magic that cursed you and your family. The same magic that damned this land. It was evil. What had you taken in?
A terrible squeak behind you snapped you out of your thoughts and you lost your footing, tripping and twisting your ankle as you came face to face with the sand. But you had no time to dwell over the sharp pain, for the Mi’raj pounced on you with a haunting growl and you were plunged into numbness.
The Zumurruda was still in your hand when you shielded your face with your arms, ready to surrender to your cruel fate with closed eyes. Right then, you thought of home, of your mother and father, of your brother and sister.
You’d tried. You’d tried to end their misery once and for all, for them and for yourself. But that was the end of it all. You thought of Minho, and how heartless fate had been toward the two of you.
Perhaps that was it. That was the last act in the play of your fates.
It felt like an incomplete ending.
A ring of white light exploded from the Zumurruda upon contact with the tip of the Mi’raj’s horn, engulfing you in pure brilliance. For a moment there, you felt light, weightless, as though you were floating amid the clouds before falling back to the hard ground. You felt heavy then. Something pressed on your chest, narrowing your breaths to choked gasps.
Alive or dead, you couldn’t tell, but you caught the shouts that surrounded you before losing yourself to the forbidding darkness.
•؏•
Minho was sure his soul had left his body when he found you lying still under the lifeless body of the Mi’raj. He dropped the torch in his hand and fell to your side, helplessly trying to push off the monster and pull you out. Jeongin rushed to his aid instantly, while Hyunjin observed apathetically.
The three had been following you when a flash of light caught their attention. To the two royals, it was a clear indicator of your whereabouts, but to the Sahir, it was different news. A familiar energy was released with that light, and he was dreadfully aware of its source.
The Zumurruda.
You did something and it cost great magic.
After much struggling, Minho and Jeongin managed to drag your body away from the beast. That’s when Minho noticed something horribly wrong. A curse left his lips as his hands rested on your face in worried pats. “She’s cold— too cold. Bring the torch or anything, we need fire!”
Jeongin stood and hurried to the torch Minho had dropped earlier. It was dying out quickly, but he supposed that was better than nothing.
He brought it back to Minho, who had a hand placed on the side of your neck. There was a pulse, and he released a breath he’d been holding for too long. You’re alive.
Taking the torch from Jeongin, the prince noticed that the flame was getting smaller. It was barely enough to warm you up.
“What are you doing?” Jeongin eyed his cousin weirdly when he unraveled his litham, piled it on the ground, and dropped the flaming torch over it. The fire rose, and Minho responded casually, “We don’t have time to collect more tinder.”
“But what about your head—”
“I’ll be okay. Bring some water and bandages,” Minho dismissed his worries and knelt beside you again, pushing you to lie a little closer to the small fire. He checked for any obvious injuries and noticed that your left hand was bleeding profusely from a wound across your palm.
When he examined it closely, he noticed the shards of a green gemstone poking through the cut and with a grimace, he carefully removed them. The pieces were covered in blood, but they weren’t hard to recognize. They were pieces of—
“The Zumurruda.”
Minho snapped his head in the direction of the voice to find Hyunjin standing behind him, an unsettling expression illuminating his face as he peered at the broken pieces of the gemstone. Gripping the hilt of his sword, the prince stood to face him threateningly, “Stand back.”
“Oh, look who’s becoming angry,” Hyunjin raised a brow, “You know, you are in no place to pretend as though I am the villain here. You lied to me about the Zumurruda and now your fiancée broke it.”
The Sahir’s eyes began to glow red as his voice grew in depth. “If anyone were to be angry here it should be me, and you should’ve known better than to meddle around in—”
A sharp gasp followed by a coarse cough interrupted him, and Minho spent no time to return to your side and help you into a sitting position.
“It’s okay, you’re safe now,” he muttered, although it sounded as though he was reassuring himself instead. He had an arm wrapped around your shoulders to support you, while gently massaging your shoulders to encourage your body to relax. It was a method he’d learned from the royal medic.
Jeongin arrived right then, carrying a waterskin and the necessary supplies. The Sahir watched, silently seething, as the prince offered you water and his cousin tended to your wounded hand. You were mumbling incoherently, refusing water and treatment, but Minho was not giving in. “Y/n, please, you need to drink water.”
“B-But...” your words were slurred, as though the mere act of speech was a grueling effort you weren’t capable of. The prince’s tone was gentle, and it made Hyunjin’s skin crawl in disgust. Or envy. “You can say all you want, just have a sip of water first.”
You remained still for a moment, limply leaning on Minho for support, before weakly reaching out for the waterskin. Quickly noticing your efforts, your fiancé helped you lift the pouch to your lips.
The world slowly blinked into clarity after you took a long sip of water. It took you several moments to realize that Minho was almost holding you in an embrace, and while it made the Jinni inside you recoil, you didn’t wish to move. It was comfortable in ways you forbade yourself from indulging in.
Jeongin had finished bandaging your hand when you noticed shiny, green bits in the ground. Your weariness didn’t hinder you from recognizing it and you whispered, almost in disbelief, “The Zumurruda...”
“Yes, the Zumurruda,” came a voice, so dark and beguiling. The Sahir picked a shard from the ground and let it rest in the palm of his hand. “You broke it.”
At his words, you took in a breath that felt like doom. You’d broken the Zumurruda.
What had you done?
“I knew you had it, but I didn’t expect you to break it. If I’d known, I would’ve taken it from you, you foolish human!” Hyunjin’s fist curled over the green shard and the air began to crackle dangerously. The prince didn’t seem to notice that as he scowled. “Be quiet.”
“No, h-he’s right,” you managed to murmur. “I...broke it.”
“I’m sure there’s another explanation.”
“No, there is not!” Hyunjin advanced threateningly, eyes blazing red as though he was going to lay a deadly curse on the three of you. At that moment, Jeongin swiftly unsheathed his saif and held it against the Sahir’s neck. “I presume we told you to be quiet.”
Hyunjin glared at the young royal before rolling his eyes, “I suppose there is no point in arguing now, is there?”
A weak whisper came from you. “But how...will we find the Sahira’s Heart now?”
Jeongin frowned in confusion, “What?”
“See! It is truly a dilemma,” Hyunjin stepped away from the edge of the sword and clasped his hands behind his back. “How will we find the Sahira’s Heart?”
“Why do you care?” Minho scoffed, to which Hyunjin tutted, “We’ve been in this perilous journey together, I suppose I feel an obligation to finish it with you.”
You would’ve laughed at the prince’s exaggerated eye roll had you not been half conscious. “There’s...no point in resuming this journey...there is no Zumurruda t-to guide us...”
“Right, right,” the Sahir paused, pondering, before he smiled knowingly, “I might know of a way...”
“There’s a cave on the Isle of the Damned fabled to hide riches beyond one’s imagination.” Hyunjin’s tone was that of wonder as he spoke. “It is said that a Marid is trapped there, and it could grant its freer three wishes.”
Jeongin raised an eyebrow, “Isn’t that a mere legend?”
“Yes, but so are the Nasanees and the Rokh. It might as well be true.”
“Are we going to resume this journey relying on a legend?” Minho interjected, skepticism clear in his voice. “Are we sure this wouldn’t be a great waste of time?”
“Do you want to find the Sahira’s Heart or not?” Hyunjin argued. “You’ve already wasted time coming here then breaking the Zumurruda.”
“I don’t like repeating myself, ya Sahir,” the prince narrowed his eyes when Hyunjin brought up the broken gemstone once more. The latter ignored him, and you found it would be better to speak before an argument broke out. “The Sahir might be right. If we can...find this cave, then we might be able to wish for the Sahira’s Heart...”
“I suppose there’s something I am unaware of,” Jeongin cleared his throat, “What is this ‘Sahira’s Heart’?”
“I’ll explain to you later,” Minho answered him before turning his attention to you, “Are you sure you want to do this? We can also return home...”
You took in a quiet breath. After all that had happened in the past few days, you knew you weren’t ready to give up yet. “I still want...to try.”
“It is set then!” Hyunjin clasped his hands, appearing a tad bit too enthusiastic in comparison to his outburst a short while ago. “I’ll be seeing you by sunrise.”
The three of you gave him no response as he strode away, back to the heart of the oasis. Jeongin soon followed, after asking if his help was needed and gathering the supplies he brought. You found yourself alone with Minho again, much like you were an hour ago. Silence had finally settled around the two of you.
Your soul was at peace, which you thought was odd, considering the disaster dawning on you. You didn’t know what happened after you blacked out. The Zumurruda was broken, and months of planning were gone in a blink.
All you had left was faith in Hyunjin’s plan. Who would’ve thought you’d be trusting the Sahir after all?
Close to you, Minho found himself at peace too. Concern still nagged at the back of his mind, but with you alive and breathing in his arms, it became a hushed whisper. His heart didn’t hammer in his chest, as he’d expected it to if he were to ever hold you. Instead, it was calm, blissful. And selfishly, he wished that moment would last.
It wouldn’t, he knew.
A sigh left your lips, “Minho, I have to tell you...something.”
A hum encouraged you to continue. “I think...I absorbed the Zumurruda’s power.”
“What do you mean?” the prince sounded almost afraid.
“The Mi’raj, I couldn’t use my powers near it,” you recalled, “I...thought that if I could use the Zumurruda’s power I might be able to defeat it somehow. I-I don’t know what happened next but that broke it.”
You finally turned your gaze to where the Mi’raj lay. Only then did you take a good look at it and notice the substance of which its horn was made.
Abarmout Stone.
Things began to make sense suddenly. The precious stone was used to ward off evil, and it could only be found in the depths of Bahr Abarmout. Evils, such as your Jinni powers, were useless against it.
But not the Zumurruda. The Sahira’s powers were beyond hell and its devilry.
“I’ve made a big...mistake.”
“That was not a mistake,” Minho asserted. “You had to do anything to save yourself and if a meager rock was the cost, then so be it.”
“Well, whatever was in that meager rock is in my blood now.” A ghost of a laugh danced in your voice, though you hadn’t the heart to laugh. “I don’t know what this might mean but...you have the right to know what happened to the Zumurruda.”
“It’s alright. It doesn’t matter to me as it matters to others. I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“Asifa,” that was the only response you could utter, and it seemed to confuse the prince just as much. “Why?”
“For dragging you along this...aimless, perilous trek. I should’ve been doing this alone.”
At that moment, Minho was convinced you were rambling off due to exhaustion. Why else would you say something like that?
“Y/n,” he sighed, “I suggested to join you, and I wouldn’t take back my words for anything.”
“But—”
“I promise.”
You fell silent at that. There was no changing his mind.
“Can you walk?” Minho asked after a beat, and you brought your knees close to your body with a whisper, “I think so.”
Your shoulders felt cold when Minho removed his arm from around you to stand. He held a hand out for you, and you grabbed it reluctantly as you pushed yourself to your feet. The fire near you was dying out, but that didn’t explain the formidable cold you felt at your fingertips.
Nor the chill that pumped out of your heart.
•؏•
You reached Kahif Al Ghareeb after two days of wearying travel. The cave was situated at the base of one of the Isle’s great mountains, and Hyunjin claimed it was the fabled place.
You couldn’t deny the eeriness of the cave. There was magic inside, indeed. Perhaps, your journey won’t end in vain after all...
“This is the entrance?” Jeongin remarked loudly, raising an eyebrow at the enormous rock blocking the cave’s opening.
“Na’am. Does it not look like an entrance to you?” Hyunjin retorted, stepping toward the rocky barrier.
The three of you followed him. “Well, you can’t enter through it.”
“Not unless you say the magic words.”
“The what?”
“The magic words— have none of you heard the tale of Ali Baba?” the Sahir was both baffled and disappointed. You caught his low murmur of ‘people of this age’ and decided not to comment on it. “It’s a tale for a reason.”
“You, out of all people, shouldn’t be saying this,” Hyunjin shook his head. “You breathe magic.”
You disregarded him as Jeongin frowned, “So you’re implying that if we simply say ‘Iftah ya simsim’ the rock would miraculously mo—”
A rumble coming from within the mountain cut him off, and you wanted to laugh when the entrance cleared slowly as though the rock were a simple door. You’ve seen enough magic in the past days, a moving boulder shouldn’t have been a surprise.
Hyunjin’s expression was strangely smug as he strode into the dark cave. From your place, you could see mounds of what seemed to be gold and jewelry, strewn across the cave. It was unreal, even for a royal like you.
The Sahir stopped short and clasped his hands, muttering something before throwing them outward and illuminating the cave in the light of a thousand flames. You could hear Minho’s slow inhale of wonder when his gaze fell upon the treasures inside. “It’s real.”
“Everything is real,” Hyunjin shrugged. “Now will you continue to stand there like fools, or will you step in?”
“Right,” the prince muttered before walking toward the Sahir. You and Jeongin followed.
“I didn’t know you could do that,” you hid your awe as you came to stand beside Hyunjin. The unnerving energy around him had become less unsettling in the past couple of days. He gave you a cryptic smile, “You could do anything if you stop trying to be so human.”
Before you could respond to that, Minho questioned, “What do we do now?”
“We look for the Marid’s lamp,” the Sahir answered matter-of-factly.
“Amid all this? That would be impossible.”
“Well, not impossible per se,” Hyunjin crossed his arms, pondering for a short while before announcing, “My instincts tell me we should look in the far left corner of the cave.”
Minho rolled his eyes sarcastically and directed his attention toward you, “What do you say?”
“I don’t know. I suppose we look wherever Hyunjin says to begin,” you shrugged, and so the four of you began the long search.
It was almost impossible, as the prince complained, for there was much to sift through and you had no map to guide you.
Almost.
You noticed the strange pull the closer you neared the corner at which Hyunjin pointed. Magic. And you could feel it like you felt the approach of the Afarit and the Nasanees. You relied on that inner compass.
Your search was approaching no advancements when you heard commotion by the entrance of the cave. You noticed it first, the sound of loud conversation and the thumping of hooves.
You weren’t alone.
Soon enough, Minho and Jeongin noticed it too and shared alarmed looks. The Sahir seemed unbothered.
“What do you mean the Zumurruda is gone too? First the Rokh, then the Mi’raj, and now this?!” you could make out an angry exclamation and your heart dropped in realization. They must be the people who sent all those monsters to attack you and retrieve the Zumurruda. They jeopardized your life, Minho’s, and Jeongin’s throughout the past days.
The coincidence was perturbing, and you truly weren’t prepared for another fight.
“Wait!” the shout was closer. “The entrance is open— someone’s here!”
Minho unsheathed his saif, “I’ll go settle this—”
You placed a hand on his arm to keep him from moving. “Stay here. I don’t know what they are capable of.”
“Oh, stop worrying. It’s probably a band of harmless thieves,” Hyunjin said with a dismissive wave of his hand, to which you scowled, whispering, “These “thieves” are the same people who sent that Rokh to attack us! Didn’t you hear?”
He spared you a second-long glance and shrugged, continuing to look through a treasure chest.
You wished you could smack him.
“Quick! Search the cave!” a command from who you assumed was the leader sounded across the cave and Minho gave you a desperate look, “I can’t just sit here, they’ll find us eventually!”
When you didn’t budge, he reasoned, “Let me and Jeongin distract them while you search for the lamp. Them finding the two of us is better than finding us all.”
“He’s right,” Jeongin interjected and you had to sigh in exasperation. “What if they outnumber you and your distraction doesn’t help us? These people are dangerous.”
“More dangerous than the Nasanees?” the prince suggested.
“I don’t know, maybe!”
“Trust us, y/n,” he paused, as if contemplating his next words before sighing, “Just focus on finding the lamp, and we’ll get out of here.”
Your heart screamed at you to deny his request, but your mind propelled you otherwise. Minho’s plan did seem like the best thing to do. Though, you had a feeling you would regret the words that fell from your mouth. “Fine. Be safe.”
٧
It wasn’t long after Minho and Jeongin snuck away did you hear a stranger shout, “I’ve found them!”
You forced yourself to focus on the task at hand and find the lamp, but it proved to be impossible. With the shouts and the clashing of swords invading every comprehensible thought of yours, you couldn’t keep your mind off the prince and his cousin. If those thieves had the means to summon a Rokh, then you were justifiably concerned for the safety of your companions.
Concerned enough to miss the growing pull of magic that was tugging at your soul.
“I think— y/n!” the Sahir brought you out of your thoughts and you blinked at him distractedly, “Na’am?”
“Focus, will you? Can’t you feel where the lamp lies?”
“I think so,” you drawled.
“Then what is it telling you? Why aren’t you doing anything?!”
“I—” you turned to face him, eyes wide in fear. “Asifa. I have to help them.”
“La! We need to find the lamp!” Hyunjin called after you, but you couldn’t hear him as you made your way toward the commotion. You found them, a large group of bandits teamed against the two Darilmalekan royals. It wasn’t an ordinary fight, for they appeared to want to kill with each swing of their swords. They were like a pack of wild hounds.
A familiar presence within you awakened at the scene, bloodthirsty.
From the corner of your eye, you caught a man wrapped in black advance on a distracted Jeongin with his saif raised. To your sheer horror, he brought his sword down on the unsuspecting royal’s head, eliciting a chilling cry from him. It reverberated within your bones, numbing your limbs, stealing your voice, and throwing your world into mayhem. In a moment of weakness, Minho turned toward his fallen cousin. His assailants were quick to take advantage of his distraction.
The flash of swords was the last you saw before your vision dipped into blood and you found yourself tearing through the bandits in a haze.
Your clawed hands burned with bright flames as they ravaged anything and everything within their reach. You couldn’t discern your enemies from your friends, all were the same in the eyes of your Jinni. Prey.
You didn’t feel it, but the cave shook with the fury that pulsed in your heart. Your blind carnage didn’t last long, for many escaped or hid. Most, but one.
He stood, saif in hand, as he called on his bandits, “You fools! You’ve seen worse monsters!”
A flicker of thought crossed your mind. He must be their leader.
A new spark of rage ignited in your soul, and in a beat, you were grabbing his neck and throwing him into a pile of gold. Blisters were appearing on his neck in place of your blazing grip, but you felt no remorse as you proceeded toward him again.
His scream of horror went unheard when your clawed hand covered his face, digging into the skin mercilessly. When you spoke, it wasn’t your voice. “Y-You.”
You dragged your hand downward, slow and torturous. This time, his screams were loud enough to pierce the veil of bloodlust clouding your mind, but what stopped you was the arm that swung against your neck and pulled you backward. Instinctively, you pushed your attacker off, sending him hurtling across the clearing. You’d let go of the bandits’ leader and turned around to look at who you pushed, locking gazes.
You saw it then.
Fear.
And your senses crashed back into you with a horrified gasp. Blood had lathered your arms and tinted your clothes, but you only cared to rush to his side. “Minho!”
He didn’t struggle to sit upright, although you noticed he clutched his right arm with a grimace. His eyes were glazed over when you dropped to your knees beside him, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t—”
Minho shook his head, seemingly elsewhere, “Where’s Jeongin?”
Jeongin. You stood with a start, looking around frantically and praying to all the Aliha he didn’t fall victim to your Jinni’s violence. You spotted him lying on the ground, limbs sprawled lifelessly, resting on a blanket of his own blood. Minho trailed behind you, and when he saw his dear cousin, he fell to his side with a choked sob. His hands roamed his face, trying, searching for some hope.
You didn’t find it in you to stand any closer. Death was looming around you, and you refused to let it take Jeongin away. There must be a way to fix this. There must be something—
“Well, at least some of us did something useful while you hooligans wasted your time brawling with bandits,” came Hyunjin’s voice from behind. You snapped around to face him, noticing the golden lamp he tossed between his hands. Hope burst through your heart. “You found it.”
Minho let his attention wander to the Sahir at your words. He, too, recognized the shiny artifact.
Hyunjin shrugged, tossing it toward an attentive Minho, “Of course I did. Now do with it what you please, we haven’t gotten all day.”
You were too elated by the discovery to question the Sahir’s words or intentions, urging the prince to summon the Marid instead, “Go on, we can save him!”
Minho didn’t think twice before rubbing the side of the lamp, desperate for anything to save his cousin. You watched as smoke swirled out of the mouth of the lamp, circling the air until it formed the torso and the head of a man. Tinged purple, the Marid with great dark hair and golden cuffs bowed to its freer. “Shubbaek Lubbaek. You, who has summoned me, are granted three wishes of your heart’s true desire.”
There was no time to marvel at the magnificence of the magical being, not when Jeongin was dying before the prince’s eyes. He cried to the Marid, “Please, save him! Bring him back to us!”
“Is that your first wish?” The Marid’s voice boomed throughout the cave as though it came from the depths of the ground.
“Yes!”
“Your wish is my command.”
When you looked back at Jeongin, the bleeding cut across his head had disappeared, almost like it never was there. His wounds, gone, and instead of lifeless, he seemed to be peacefully asleep.
You didn’t miss the tears brimming Minho’s eyes as a sigh tangled with a chuckle left his lips, “I-It’s real he’s—!”
Minho halted mid-sentence, letting out a strangled noise as his eyes widened in shock and his world lapsed into eerie silence. His gaze drifted downward slowly until it met the tip of the saif poking out of his chest, scarlet with his blood.
٨
“It has been five days!” Changbin slammed a hand on the table, where many advisors and the Darilmalekan King sat. They were feeding him more empty promises, he knew, and the Tallilmalekan Crown Prince had had quite enough. “Five days and there’s not a single trace of them!”
The King narrowed his eyes. He, too, had enough of your brother’s stubbornness. “We are aware. Our scouts—”
“Your scouts are doing an unsatisfactory job,” Changbin remarked. “They shouldn’t be taking this long to find them.”
“Pardon us, then. This is the most we can do.”
“Fine,” the prince threw his hands in the air, “we’ll be bringing our own forces to search for them.”
The Darilmalekan King sighed, “Please, be reasonable.”
“Reasonable? After your Crown Prince ran away with the Amira? That’s quite ambitious of you to request—”
“Your Highness!” a guard barged into the meeting room, gasping for air. “Apologies, but we’ve received important news.”
“Proceed,” the king nodded to him.
“A traveler claimed to have spotted the crown prince, along with prince Jeongin and the princess in a village in the Isle of the Damned,” he informed, and Changbin hoped he masked his surprise well.
“The Isle of the Damned? Whatever brought them there?” the King questioned. Changbin knew just why.
You were seeking the Sahira’s Heart. He shook his head inwardly, though he couldn’t suppress the faint pride he felt. Never knew you had it in you, little sister.
•؏•
“I’ll take that.” Hyunjin leaned to grab the lamp in Minho’s loose grip before pulling out the saif forcefully and tossing it to the side. That action made the prince double over and almost collapse on Jeongin’s body, had you not caught him in time. It all happened too quickly, and you found yourself lost amid confusion, betrayal, and anger.
Your breaths shook as you felt Minho become weaker in your arms. He tried to push himself up, but his efforts were to no avail. The blood gushing out of the wound was enough to determine his cruel fate.
Your gaze snapped toward the Sahir and you cried in a blur of emotions, “Why would you do that?!”
He gave you a scornful glance, “For what reasons beyond the obvious?”
“You gave him the lamp!”
“You really aren’t as smart as you appear,” he turned to fully face you, and you thought you imagined the sneer of a demon in his face. “Good magic doesn’t respond to us, spawns of the Devil.”
“You—” you paused when you caught Minho’s frail murmur, “Let...me down.”
You could only oblige, even though you didn’t want to let him go. Helping him rest his head on the rocky ground, anger began to invade your heart, stronger than ever.
You stood to face Hyunjin again, and he shook his head at your appearance, “Would you look at yourself...lathered in blood and desperate to kill. When will you learn to stop chasing human desires?”
“What do you want with the lamp? You said it wouldn’t respond to your magic, and the Marid will only listen to its master,” you ignored his question, having grown tired of his cryptic speech. Human desires?
“It wouldn’t respond to my magic if I were to summon the Marid. Fortunately, your fiancé did the job. Manipulation is an easy feat after that.” Hyunjin was apathetic, you’d noticed that days ago, and you’d finally decided you’d had enough of the Sahir. “And?”
“And,” he scowled, “since you’ve broken the Zumurruda, this is my only means of getting what I truly want! Revenge on all those who killed her!”
You raised a brow, “Revenge?”
He seemed to have said something you weren’t supposed to know, but he dismissed it quickly, “It matters not. I was planning to kill the three of you anyway. It’s too bad you had to save the meddling one, but it shouldn’t be too hard to undo your wish.”
“You will not lay a single finger on them,” you warned, eyes beginning to blaze red. The Sahir noticed and shook his head once more, “I truly don’t understand what you want with them. Why are you doing this? Love? You’ve got more power than to care about something so human and weak.”
You didn’t miss the scorn in his tone. He seemed offended, hurt, and you couldn’t tell why. Why would a powerful Sahir have a personal grudge against...love?
Then you remembered his previous remarks. People of this age. It’s the whisper of corruption, bloodlust, hell. Like calls to like...
It seemed like a stray guess, but you blurted, “You’ve lost a lover, haven’t you?”
Hyunjin froze at your words, then his expression darkened as he spat, “I didn’t lose her, they took her from me! They killed her. But I’ve sought the Sahira’s Heart for too long. Nothing you can do will stop me, demon girl. I know all your tricks.”
Too long, his words echoed in your head, and various instances came rushing to you, forming one, big, clue. I know more than you could imagine.
A killed lover, magic, the Devil, and unsettling energy. The strange feeling you’ve had about him. His presence had always felt wrong, off.
Then it clicked.
The charm.
As though responding to your thoughts, a surge of cold magic rushed to your fingertips and you dared to meet the Sahir’s gaze. “You don’t know all my tricks.”
You thrust a hand forward and pulled the precious pendant to yourself. You didn’t know where that power came from, cold in comparison to the burning wrath of your Jinni, but it flowed through your blood with ease. As though it was yours, and you were always meant to have it.
The necklace moved at your will, and with a tug, it snapped from around Hyunjin’s neck and flew into your open hand.
This drew an immediate gasp from the Sahir, who wasted no time to shout, “Give it back!”
You examined the heavy pendant in your hand. It was made of glass, and a strand of hair was trapped inside. You shook your head in disbelief at the discovery. Hyunjin... Prince Hyunjin. The Lost Prince of Tajilmalek…
You looked back at him, “Two hundred years...”
“Return the pendant, or else I’ll have to retrieve it myself,” he threatened, but it didn’t faze you. “You, too, are doing this for love. You’ve been so for two long centuries.”
If the tales were true, then what you held encompassed the Sahir’s soul. It seemed to be, for he was adamant on having it back. You felt some sympathy for him. “You shouldn’t be alive.”
“Drop the pendant,” he enunciated, though his desperation was clawing its way through his words.
Two hundred years of nurturing his anger and despair, of living with the pain of loss. No, you felt great sympathy for him. “You should rest, now.”
“La—!” Hyunjin’s face morphed into an expression of horror and distress, but it was too late. You’d closed your fist on the pendant, and with newfound power, crushed it in your grasp.
A cry that shook the ground left the Sahir as he visibly crumbled before you, delicate features deepening into age worn wrinkles, an elegant figure declining to crookedness, until all what remained of him was a pile of rubble.
You mustered a weak smile, stepping toward the mass and dropping the broken pieces of the pendant over it. “May you find peace.”
Perhaps you should’ve felt some guilt for defeating the Sahir, but any guilt in your heart was not regarding him. You picked up the lamp that fell beside the rubble and shook it, calling, “Ya Marid!”
The Marid materialized before you. “Shubbaek Lubbaek.”
You didn’t spare a moment to plead, gesturing toward the dying prince, “You have to save him!”
“Apologies, for I only grant my master’s wishes.”
“Well, he is your master, and he is dying. If you don’t save him, the wishes will never be said, and you will never be freed!”
The Marid contemplated your words, but it didn’t take long for him to nod in approval, “Very well. You make an excellent plea.”
You assumed that meant the prince was saved, so you rushed to his side. The tinge of blood remained on your hands and you didn’t dare to touch him, resorting to examining his face and asking the Marid, “Is he okay now?”
“He is asleep, as is your friend. They must rest, so do you,” the Marid responded and you shook your head, “I cannot rest. Not now.”
How could you rest after what had happened?
The Marid seemed to think otherwise. He rose in the air, basking the cave in dim violet light. When he spoke, your eyelids began to droop dangerously. “Rest, troubled soul. No harm shall reach you.”
You wanted to argue, but your head felt heavy, and the doors of slumber were wide open for you to give in. A strange sense of peace washed over you, and you knew it was the Marid’s work. Too weak to fight it, you lowered your head to the ground, bloodied attire and limbs, and allowed yourself a short retirement from the chaos of your world. Just that once.
•؏•
You woke to the incessant scratch of metal against rock and low murmuring. You cracked an eye open to spot a figure sitting some distance away, fiddling with a sword. When you pushed yourself up, your muscles cried in excruciation. Only when you felt the stickiness of blood on your hands did you remember the happenings before your slumber. Finding the cave, searching for a magical lamp, fighting bandits, defeating Hyunjin, Minho almost—
“You’re up.”
His voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you looked up to meet his eyes, sighing in relief when you found him unharmed. A presence within you wasn’t as appreciative of the news. “You’re alive.”
“I am,” the prince looked away, and you didn’t have to follow his gaze to know that it was trailing over the dismembered, disfigured bodies of the victims of your blind rage. Your Jinni’s rage.
The word left your lips before you could process it, “Asifa. I-I lost control.”
“They wanted to kill us,” the prince shook his head, repulsed by the events of the past hours. It felt like a nightmare, from Jeongin’s fatal injury, to you ripping apart anyone within your range, to the sword that stabbed him through the chest, he was unsure how he remained alive. He remembered falling into your arms, and Hyunjin’s voice as he took the lamp from him, but that was all.
He was reluctant to know what happened to the Sahir, but he couldn’t find his body wherever he looked. “What happened to Hyunjin?”
You took moments to answer him, and he knew that was a story you didn’t want to tell. “He’s gone.”
Truth to be said, Minho was not appalled by your actions, for he knew that it wasn’t you. It was yet another day you’d saved him and his cousin with your powers. He couldn’t bring himself to show aversion to the decisions you had to make.
After all, there was no heart in war.
“Where’s Jeongin?” you asked when you noticed that the young royal wasn’t nearby. Minho responded almost immediately, “He went outside for a breath of fresh air.”
A breath of fresh air, of course. Why would anyone in their right mind stay in a cave that felt like death? You sighed, “You should return to the palace.”
“What?” the prince snapped his gaze toward you, both shocked and confused. You took a deep breath and shook your head in dismay, “After what happened, I think...I think it’s best for you and Jeongin to return to the palace.”
“We can’t do that...”
“You were almost killed, Minho!” you couldn’t help your outburst. “I can’t do this knowing that the two of you are in constant danger of death for the sake of breaking a curse.”
“What about you, then?” the prince argued, “You’re in constant danger too.”
“La. You and I are different. I can do this alone.”
“But— we’ve come this far together! We survived all those attacks and we even have the lamp with us!”
“I just don’t want this to happen again,” you gestured at your surroundings, and Minho was quick to assure you, “It won’t happen again.”
He picked up the lamp and placed it before you, holding your gaze firmly when you gave him a dubious look. “We have two wishes left. We finish this now. Together.”
٩
“This is the closest I can take you to the Sahira’s Heart,” the Marid announced after the smoke surrounding the three of you cleared up. You found yourselves standing before an ancient temple, surrounded by the sea on all sides. “The temple is guarded by magic I cannot surpass.”
“Where are we?” Jeongin wondered out loud to be answered by the Marid, “You are on an island south of the Isle of the Damned known as Al Qa’a.”
“This is the place, then,” Minho let out a breath and turned to look at you, taking notice of your silence. His tone dropped many levels gentler. “Ready?”
You took in a breath. This was the place many have died to reach. This was where you would finally regain freedom from your curse. Truthfully, you didn’t know if you were ready. “I think so.”
“You have one wish remaining,” the Marid reminded before slipping back into the lamp Minho had looped through his sheath belt.
The three of you stood still, perhaps waiting, or preparing, to make the first step toward the end of this journey. The prince dared to move forward, but once he did, the ground rumbled and quaked, and you sensed the arrival of something dangerous.
From the sand, two magnificent Afarit emerged. They were unlike the ones you encountered in the palace. Their skin glistened grey, and they were fairly larger in size, but not too tough of a match.
The Darilmalekan royals unsheathed their swords instantly, and a plan had formed in Minho’s head as he examined the monsters. “We’ll hold them back. You slip past them and find the Sahira’s Heart.”
“But don’t you think I should help you instead—” your suggestion was interrupted by a shake of his head, “La. You have to find the Sahira’s Heart and break the curse, not me nor Jeongin. This is your part—”
A howl from one of the Afarit pierced your ears as it brought its axe down on the two of you. You were lucky to dodge the attack, but it was clear the Afarit were not planning to be patient with the three of you. You caught Minho’s shout above the commotion, “Go on! We’ll distract them!”
You knew that every second of hesitation was crucial time wasted, so you ran past the occupied Afarit toward the open doors of the temple. You dared to glance back one last time, finding your fiancé and his cousin true to their promise of holding the Afarit back. You wouldn’t let their efforts fall in vain.
With newfound will, you ran through the open doors into a dark corridor. You saw light on the other side, and you took off running toward it. Exhilaration mixed with hope and pinch of anxiety overwhelmed your mind. Will you find the Sahira’s Heart by the end of the corridor? The end to it all was terrifyingly close.
You reached a roofless clearing where the corridor led. It was empty, and moss had overrun its walls, but all you could see was the stone plinth, and the stone heart resting atop it.
Sounds of the fight outside drowned out as you stepped toward the artifact cautiously. This was the fabled Sahira’s Heart. This held all the corruption on the Isle. This held your family’s curse.
Finally.
You placed your palms on either side of the heart and lifted it, bracing yourself for whatever might happen in the following moments. You’d prepared to do it for countless hours, but breaking the Sahira’s Heart felt unreal when you stood there.
Shutting your thoughts out, you closed your eyes and focused on channeling all your power into the stone, just as you’d practiced under the gaze of the nonchalant moon. You forced it to flow through your fingertips and into the rock heart, then expand and push against the walls of the stone.
It seemed like forever until you heard the first crack, followed by a second and a third, and suddenly, your world exploded into blinding brilliance.
•؏•
Minho knew, he felt it in his heart, when white light exploded from the temple. You’d done it.
The Afarit halted, axes raised, and dropped to the ground lifelessly before disappearing into grains of sand. As though they’d never been there.
The prince sheathed his saif while attempting to calm his erratic breaths. Not too far, his cousin was doubled over a wound on his side, trying to tighten a piece of his attire over it. Minho called over to him, “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine!” came his response. “We should go see y/n!”
And so, the two walked up to the temple and through its long corridor to reach the sunlit chamber, where they found you lying on the ground. Still. Pieces of broken stone lay scattered around you.
Panic rose in Minho’s heart, but it was quickly erased when he noticed the steady rise and fall of your chest. You were alive.
He came to sit beside you, smiling to himself as he murmured, “You’ve done it, Amirati. You really did.”
Jeongin rested a hand on his cousin’s shoulder, “Let’s go home.”
“Right.” Minho reached for the lamp, patting it and watching as the purple smoke swirled in the air to form the Marid’s body. “Shubbaek Lubbaek. Are you ready to make your last wish?”
The prince smiled, “Yes. Take us to the Darilmalekan palace...and let everyone there but us forget we were ever gone.”
“Is that your wish?”
He did not hesitate. “Na’am.”
The Marid bowed his head, and with a wave of his hands, the three of you were engulfed in the same purple smoke. “Your wish is my command.”
After.
“Big day today, eh?” Jeongin stepped up from behind his cousin, who gave him a small grin, “It sure is.”
It was a big day, indeed, for it was the day your caravan from Tallilmalek arrives, after two long months of absence.
When the Marid transported the three of you into the royal garden, you quickly parted ways. With the curse broken, you had to return to Tallilmalek along with your brother. Royals, nobles, and palace staff were confused about your sudden departure, but a scroll from the Tallilmalekan palace was enough justification.
While you were gone, you made sure to keep Minho updated on your state of wellbeing. It was an obligation neither asserted, but both of you committed to. The journey had undoubtedly brought you closer, and being finally free, you thought you must make up for the lost time.
Healing and learning to live without the curse was tough, as you’d written to the prince. Old habits were hard to kill, especially when they’d been the basis of life for your family for decades. But you were getting there, a small step at a time.
Two months later, the Tallilmalekan royal family sent a messenger carrying news that brought life to the palace once more. You were ready to carry on with the wedding.
It was a big day. The kind that made Minho’s heart flutter in excitement and dance in joy. It felt like a Deja Vu, standing in the throne room to welcome you to Darilmalek. Only this time, your arrival carried true promises to be kept.
“Still haughty as ever,” Jeongin commented once the Tallilmalekan King stepped in, followed by you and your brother. Minho rolled his eyes in response, masking a smile, “Shut up.”
Jeongin might’ve been right, your family loved to display their riches, but it wasn’t the jewelry nor the pearls that shone with your entrance. It was the little smile adorning your lips. As gentle as the night breeze, but as breathtaking as a starry sky.
When you came to stand before him, offering your hand, that smile grew, ever so faintly. And that was enough for the prince, who mirrored your expression, only many times brighter. “Welcome back, Amirati.”
•؏•
People do strange things for love...
You stared at your journal, unsure of what to conclude with, when a voice came from behind. “Thought I’d find you here.”
“Minho,” you shut your journal carefully, turning your head to watch as he stepped toward the balustrade, “what are you doing here, up this late?”
“The same question goes to you,” his lips stretched into a soft smile when you came to stand beside him. It was the only time you’d had for yourself that day. Preparations for the wedding were consuming every moment of daylight, from the very second you woke until the blanket of night covered the land. You were lucky to be able to enjoy one last night in the palace garden before the ceremony. “I’m finishing my journal.”
Minho hummed in acknowledgement. You were documenting your journey to the Sahira’s Heart, and all that came after. It was a very confidential journal, as you’d told him, and the prince had long given up on trying to have a peek at it.
A gentle breeze blew past the two of you, complementing the tranquility of the night. A few moments of peace prompted you to speak, “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Right,” the prince exhaled quietly as though preparing himself for a speech or an important event of such sort. He turned to face you fully, and only then did you notice the small golden box in his hands. Under the timid shine of the moon, he appeared almost shy. “I have something for you.”
When you gave him a curious look, he placed the case on the balustrade and opened it, clearing his throat, “I know our beginning wasn’t exactly...ideal, and for the longest time, uncontrollable circumstances stood between us.”
“But tomorrow,” he met your gaze, “things...change.”
Your gaze followed his movements attentively, every anxious bite of his lip and fidgety gesture of his hand. A quiet part of you wanted to ease his nervousness, but you were yet to learn how. All you could do was give him an encouraging smile.
But your smile did wonders, as Minho had come to discover, and a bigger smile found home on his lips in turn. The thin thread between nervousness and excitement snapped, and he dared to present to you a gift he’d longed to give. “I just wanted you to know this before our wedding...”
He held a delicate diadem made of gracefully laced strands of gold encircling dainty pearls. Even in the dark of night, its beauty glowed. It brought the stars above to shame.
Your gaze was fixed on him when he placed the circlet on your head and smiled to himself. La, you thought it was his beauty that brought the stars to shame. There, in that fleeting moment, you spotted the gleam of pure joy and adoration in his eyes. It was the most stunning thing you’d ever seen.
His hands found yours, and with a gentle squeeze, he spoke his promise for the heavens above to hear. “No matter how long it takes you to adjust to this life, I’ll wait for you, my queen. Always.”
People did strange things for love, though I can’t blame them.
In the end, it proved to be worth it.
Al Amira y/n of Tallilmalek.
If you have read this far then you are contractually obligated to tell me your thoughts! Well, not really, but do drop by sometime! Thank you for reading and I hope you have a lovely day! ♡
#stray kids#lee minho#lee minho imagines#minho imagines#skzwritersclub#lee minho scenarios#minho scenarios#stray kids imagines#stray kids scenarios#bang chan#seo changbin#hwang hyunjin#han jisung#lee felix#kim seungmin#yang jeongin#skz#source: -Kyutips chaninfused#yay 🥳🥳
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A Very Colin Christmas - Colin Shea x reader
Ch. 2 - The Proposal
a/n - hey lovely people!! here goes chapter 2, and this is where things really start to get interesting... enjoy;)
read ch.1
Summary: You help Colin with some Christmas decorations, but it turns out he does have one more thing to ask you...
Word Count: 1.6k
Warnings: curse words, innuendos
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After Colin left to try and get a tree, you went back to your apartment to tidy up a little and write cards to give out. You wrote all the big ones first, for your family and close friends, and then wrote the ones for coworkers and other people for whom a simple "Merry Christmas" would suffice. It was a little extra to write cards for all the presents you gave out, but it wasn't too much of a bother.
You were just putting the cards in place when you heard a knock on your door. "Just a second!" you yelled out and finished with the cards.
You opened the door to reveal Colin, smiling. "Let's go," you said, locking the door behind you and going with him to his apartment across the hall.
When you entered you were greeted by the sight of a little tree in the living room, but more importantly with the delicious smell of takeout. You were painfully reminded you hadn't had dinner yet when your mouth watered at the smell.
"I got some takeout on my way as well," said Colin and made his way to the kitchen. "You want some?" he yelled.
"Yeah, I'd love some," you said, grateful. You started to look at the pile of decorations on the couch, wondering where it would be best to put each one.
Colin came back with two very delicious smelling plates, one of them you accepted before sitting down on the couch beside him. You ate and chatted a bit. He asked you a little about your job and you ranted about your shitty boss for a bit.
"Well, lucky for me I'm the boss of me. And I gotta say, I'm a pretty great one," Colin replied, smirking.
"Oh yeah, how's that going for you?" you asked. A week ago, you had seen him in the park with some kid and he tried to hide from you. "The babysitting business must be thriving with you in it," you grinned.
"Ha ha," he replied dryly. "For your information, that was my nephew, and I definitely did not get paid for that," he grimaced slightly. "But my actual work, which is music, is going great, thanks for asking."
"I'm glad," you chuckled.
When you finished your dinner, it was time for decorating. At first you were hesitant, asking Colin if the place was okay for every single ornament you hung, but you quickly realized he didn't really care, and started getting more and more confident. Eventually, you were telling Colin where he should put the stuff he was hanging.
At some point Colin started to put on some music from his phone, blasting a cheesy Christmas playlist. You started mindlessly humming along, and so did Colin. Gradually, you both started swaying to the beat, until eventually you were both just dancing around, singing at the top of your lungs. You grabbed a candy cane and started using it as a mic, offering it to Colin every other line, and he gladly sang into it, laughter dancing in his eyes.
When the song ended you both collapsed on the couch, side by side, each breathless to some extent. You looked at him and started laughing, and soon he joined you, your laughter booming through the apartment. Another song was playing now, but he lowered the volume so you could speak comfortably.
"Wow, you really are musically talented," you said once your laughter had died down, "I'm impressed."
"Thank you, thank you!" he got up and bowed with a flourish, waving at an invisible crowd. "You're not too bad yourself," he said once he sat back down.
"Thank you!" you said, your hand on your heart, feigning deep gratitude. "It means so much when an expert like you says that," you rolled your eyes.
"You sound like my mom," he raised his eyebrow and reached for his beer on the table, taking a large gulp.
"I can't tell if that's good or bad," you chuckled.
"Definitely bad. She's still waiting for me to give it up, and so is my entire family. They seem to forget I've been doing this for years now. My mom is very adamant that it's a phase. She is, of course, forgetting my expertise, as you framed so nicely," he said with a bitter smile.
"Sounds like a lovely lady," you smiled.
"Yeah. I love them but loving them from afar is easier. Soon they're gonna be here, so don't be surprised if you hear some shouting," he smiled.
"Why would you shout? It's the holidays!"
"Exactly. It's gonna be all 'Colin, why don't you have a job?' and 'Colin, when are you gonna settle down with a nice girl?' like I'm a fucking baby," he took another swig of his beer. "And because I do have a job, and I tell them that, that's when the shouting begins," he said with a shrug.
"What about the nice girl?" you smirked, and Colin just looked at you with a puzzled expression. "I mean, you just told me your answer for the first question, but why don't you settle down with a nice girl?" you raised your eyebrow at him.
"Well, it's simple," he leaned closer, putting his hand on the couch beside you, "I like 'em naughty," he murmured and smirked.
"Okay," you rolled your eyes and pushed him away playfully. "I hope that's not what you're gonna tell your mom."
"No," he sighed in defeat, "but it's sure as hell what I'm gonna tell Andy," he smirked, "that jerk doesn't know what fun is. He was like that even before he got married. Pity," he shrugged.
"Andy?"
"My perfect big brother. Perfect idiot if you ask me."
"You don't actually hate him that much," you said, convinced you were right.
"Not really," he admitted. "But he's a lawyer with a wife and a kid. You can do the math as to what expectations that sets for me."
"So you're jealous of him."
"God no, I wouldn't be a lawyer if you paid me in gold," Colin chuckled. "It looks so fucking boring."
"But you're jealous that he's getting your parents' approval," you remarked.
He stayed silent for a moment. "Maybe," he shrugged. "Whatever. It's not like that's going to change anytime soon."
"What, like you want it to? Colin, you've come to hide out in my apartment three times in the last week. I know enough to say you're not really looking for a girlfriend," you chuckled.
"I know, I know," he said, "but I kinda wish I'd have like, a girlfriend for the weekend, you know? Like a fake girlfriend to prove my family wrong, and then I'd go back to normal," he shrugged.
"Why not post an ad? People will do anything for money."
"I'm not buying a girlfriend!" he scrunched up his nose, "even I don't stoop that low. That's really fucking pathetic."
"Okay then," you chuckled, "how about ask one of your hookups?"
"Something tells me they wouldn't be up for it," he grimaced, taking another sip from his beer.
"Really? What about Stella from a couple of days ago? Two days isn't that long to ghost a girl," you shrugged.
"Oh, is that what I said her name was?" he furrowed his brows.
"Okay, I see your point," you rolled your eyes.
"Well, I do have an idea… but you have to promise not to hit me if I tell you," he grinned. You contemplated it with a smile before motioning for him to go ahead. "Maybe… you could pretend to be my girlfriend for the weekend?"
You reached out to swat him but he dodged your blow quickly, "You said you wouldn't hit me!" he pouted.
"That's before I knew you were going to say something stupid! Besides, I didn't actually say anything," you objected, but crossed your hands on your chest nonetheless.
"C'mon, it'll be fun!" he smiled hesitantly. "What are your plans anyway?"
"Sit in my apartment and watch Christmas movies," you grumbled. "My family usually meets after Christmas, because 'roads are always jammed on the holidays', so I stay in."
"See? Your family's weird, so you can help me get my annoying one off my back!"
"Hey! Only I can call my family weird," you bumped your elbow into his side. "But I guess I don't have anything that much better to do," you said after a few seconds.
"Yes!" he pumped his fist in celebration, "I promise you won't regret it, baby," he leaned in and you rolled your eyes and pushed him away.
"Okay, Casanova," you chuckled, "but I do have some ground rules. First of all, PDA to a minimum, okay? No kisses," you raised your eyebrows at him and he pouted in response.
"Cheek kisses?" he asked.
"Maybe," you sighed. "Rule number two – no funny business," you gestured vaguely.
"What does that mean?" he chuckled.
"I don't know," you said, "just… be normal?"
"I thought the entire point of this was that I didn't seem like my normal self," he scratched his chin as if in deep thought.
"Well, I meant be a normal person in normal people standards."
"You got it," he grinned.
When you got back to your apartment, he escorted you to your door.
"See you, Colin. Goodnight," you smiled.
"Goodnight. And… thank you," he smiled back, "for saving my ass. Today and hopefully over the weekend."
"Don't thank me yet," you smirked, prompting him to chuckle. "Bye," you said as you closed your door behind you.
So… looks like you're going to have a very interesting weekend.
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tell me your thoughts!! honestly i have mixed feelings about some of the dialogue in this one, because i really like it but at the same time idk... anyways i hope that you enjoyed and have a wonderful rest of your day<3
Taglist: @horny-nd-bored @shannon124 @perfectlyharolds @wintersoldierslut @iceebabies @sleepingpapermouse @steverogerswasalwaysworthy @holtzkinnon @angelicl-y @stydia-4-ever @thatoneperson5000 @fangirlfree @kaitcordx25 @bequeening @steve-barry-damon-logan @itscrazycherryblossomcollection @hollandxmarvel @stargazingfangirl18 @readsreblogsfics @onetwo3000 @beritmetal @harrystylesholland @jazbot2000 @anobscurename @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @peggycarter-steverogers @evansphnx12
A Very Colin Christmas Taglist: @janaygrant
if you wanna join / be removed from a taglist, comment/message me! much love <3
#chris evans x reader#colin shea x reader#chris evans x y/n#chris evans x female reader#chris evans x you#colin shea fluff#colin shea x female reader#chris evans fluff
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On the Job
Golden Eyes Part 2 | Part 1
A/N: SURPRISE SURPRISE. Here it is! (Finally). One down, seven more to go. Sorry it’s taken so long, but I hope you enjoy this! As always, send feedback! Enjoy! I figured you guys would like this better than another update. I got a lot of this done last night so I did my finishing touches tonight. Hopefully I caught all of my mistakes!
Also I’m thinking about doing a tag list for whenever I post imagines? Lemme know what you think.
P.S Let me know if the link works for Part 1. My computer is being janky right now.
Kaz Brekker x Reader, Six of Crows
Warnings: Slight abuse, cursing
*Hopefully my gif works this time*
Y/N went straight to Jesper after she left Kaz’s room. “Well hello there Ms. Sharpshooter,” Jesper bowed, jokingly as she approached. Y/N shot him a grin before asking, “So Kaz says you have a job to do and I was wondering if I could tag along?” Jesper thought for a moment, but the mischievous look on his face told her she was already allowed.
“Hmm? Let’s see you could take anyone’s eyes out in a moment or shoot them in the head. I think you can,” Jesper replied. “Besides, we need someone to draw our target out anyways. And with those golden eyes of yours I think you can do it.”
Y/N’s face faltered a bit, but she nodded refusing to let the idea of playing the seductress ruin this. “Great so I’ll come get you tomorrow and fill you in before we go,” Jesper smiled before heading off to the Crow Club. “Awesome,” Y/N muttered, sulking again. Of course it had to be this type of job, she thought to herself.
“There’s the girl I was looking for!” Inej exclaimed, dancing gracefully over to Y/N, snapping her out of her thoughts. Y/N gave her a small smile and Inej’s face dropped. “What now?” she asked. “Nothing,” Y/N said as innocently as she could. “Bullshit,” Inej pursed her lips. “Nothing I swear! Kaz finally let me go on my first job with Jesper,” Y/N said.
Inej narrowed her eyes and prompted, “But.”
“But,” Y/N huffed, “Jesper said they needed someone as bait. And I’m said bait.”
A look of sympathy flashed across Inej’s face, before she grabbed Y/N’s hands, leading her to her room so they could talk in private.
Once the girls were settled, Inej said, “You don’t have to go you know. Kaz wouldn’t think anything of it.” But Y/N shook her head. “I have to go. I just got everyone to shut up,” Y/N said. “But Y/N, we both know you got the worst of it at the Menagerie,” Inej said quietly. Y/N sighed recalling all of the horrible memories.
“Look,” Inej started, “I’m just saying, you don’t have to do this type of thing.”
“I’ll have to at some point. Might as well be now. Besides I’ve practically been begging Kaz to let me go, and I told him I’d be fine. Do you know how embarrassing it would be if I went to him now and said ‘oh wait I can’t do this cause I’m afraid a guy is going to try and feel me up’?” Y/N mumbled. Inej gave her a funny look but said, “Kaz wouldn’t blame you. He’s not one of the nasty men. I mean he doesn’t have a conscience I swear, but he still has some respect for women.”
Y/N snorted, “It still makes me look weak.”
“You aren’t.”
“I know. It’s just time. I can do this Inej. I’ll be okay.”
Inej sighed and eventually nodded in agreement. “Okay, try and get some sleep. Jesper is a hyper one to work with so you should be fully prepared,” Inej smiled, standing up. “I wouldn’t doubt it,” Y/N laughed. “Goodnight!” Inej called before floating out of her room.
Y/N laid awake for a few more hours telling herself she was going to be fine. “It’s been over a month and you’ve been doing great,” she muttered to herself in the dark. At last, after a long while the restless girl eventually fell into a deep slumber.
The following morning, Y/N was immediately met by Jesper. Big Bolliger was lingering in the hall behind him and Y/N assumed this was the other guy on the job. Great, she thought to herself. The guy that absolutely hates me now for almost shooting his manhood off.
“So, you ready?” Jesper asked with wide eyes. Y/N noticed how his leg seemed to be shaking and one hand rested on his pistol, tapping on the side of it. “Uh, sure,” Y/N said. Jesper’s face split into a grin and he rushed by her. “I’ll fill you in when we get to the spot!” he called over his shoulder.
Big Bolliger shoved past her, obviously still unhappy over the previous day, following Jesper out. Y/N felt a pair of eyes on her and turned to see Kaz making his way down the steps towards Per Haskell’s office. His impassive expression was back, but his eyes were burning with something else. Anxiousness? Concern? Anger?
No not anger. He’s always mad at something, Y/N told herself. Catching his eye for a moment, she silently told him she was going to be okay before hurrying after Jesper and Big Bolliger.
Kaz stopped on the landing in front of Per Haskell’s office, finding Y/N’s eyes. Quickly, he found the girl staring at the entrance where the two boys just went through. He could tell she had doubts about going, but he knew she wouldn’t back out much to his dismay. As if she could sense his presence, Kaz saw her turn around and her golden eyes met his. He sucked in a breath and silently wished she would come up to him and say she wasn’t ready and that she changed her mind.
Unfortunately, the look in her eyes told him the opposite. He saw her eyes soften at the sight of him, but just as quickly as they found his, they pulled away, and Y/N flitted out the door and into the sunlight.
Unbeknownst to Kaz, Inej saw the whole exchange and grinned at the thought of Y/N and Kaz.
Y/N eventually caught up with Jesper, having to walk at a very brisk pace. “Saints! Slow down Jesper,” she exclaimed, finally reaching him. “Keep up golden-eyes. I’m in charge today and I set the pace,” Jesper snickered. Y/N glanced around nervously. She felt too exposed weaving in and out of the hustle and bustle of Ketterdam.
“What exactly is the plan?” She asked. “Wait no, what exactly is it we’re doing?”
“We need to get this slummy little Ravkan trader to cough up some coins he owes Kaz,” Jesper said, “But he is smart enough not to travel by himself because he knows how Ketterdam is. A real con artist if you ask me. Not a very loyal Ravkan considering he hoards most of the kruge for himself instead of actually giving it to his boss.”
Y/N nodded, trying to dodge more bodies. It was already hot enough with the sun beating down on them. How in the world does Kaz wear a tie everyday? Y/N thought to herself.
“So,” Jesper continued, “Your job is to get the guy away from his little friend.” Y/N looked around as her, Jesper, and Big Bolliger made their way to a table in front of a little bakery across the street from some club. Y/N was tense. It felt ten times hotter already, and she was very unnerved at how quiet Big Bolliger had been this entire time.
“There’s an alleyway, just over there,” Jesper pointed diagonally across the street to the left, a few buildings down from the club. “You need to get him over there where I’ll be covering the backside. Big Bolliger will cover where you enter the alley and we’ll handle it from there. Easy peasy,” Jesper concluded.
Y/N didn’t say a word thinking about how she would have to lure him away from his friend. Tante Haleen’s voice rang out in her head, “Be a serpent girl. Draw them in with those eyes and then strike. The men love it.”
“You know,” Jesper’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts, “If you aren’t comfortable with this you don’t have to do it. We can find another way.” Y/N glanced at Big Bolliger and he was eagerly waiting for her response. She would not give him the satisfaction.
Y/N shook her head, “No, I can do this. I’ll be fine. Easy peasy, like you said.” Jesper gave her a wary look but nodded his head. Big Bolliger, however, had a look on his face that ran shivers up Y/N’s spine. He was betting on her to fail so he could chew her out and get her back for yesterday. Y/N gulped and sunk in her seat watching the crowd roll by and trying not to vomit all over the table.
After about thirty minutes of waiting, Jesper nudged her arm, “There he is.” He pointed to two fairly pale, slimy looking school-boys. The target was the taller of the two, but almost sickly like. The boy had absolutely no muscle on his body, but had a slight gut popping out from his stained shirt.
“That’s the con artist?” Y/N asked in complete shock. She stifled a laugh as Jesper rolled his eyes. “Yes he doesn’t look like much, but that guy is pretty good at what he does. His friend on the other hand is just along for the ride,” he said.
“Jesper, this guy is like our age,” Y/N burst out laughing. “Yes yes I know. But Kaz needed him to run something to another guy. Then the other guy made the mistake of telling him to take money back to Kaz and well you get the idea,” Jesper said.
“Let’s go,” Big Bolliger snapped, interrupting their conversation and standing up, walking away before the two could say anything. Jesper and Y/N then stood up and he turned to Y/N one last time. “Look it’ll be ok. We’ll be just around the corner and will be on the guy as soon as you get him in the alley,” Jesper smiled at her before disappearing in the crowd.
Y/N took in a nervous breath before making her way towards the two guys in front of the club. Putting up her best facade, she waltzed up to them, eyes on the taller one. “Win good, boys?” Y/N smirked, batting her eyes. Everything inside of her was screaming to run.
The two Ravkans eyed her curiously, but the target took the bait. “No not today, sadly,” he said with a thick accent. “Oh that’s too bad,” Y/N pouted, resting a hand on his shoulder. The guy reeked.
“I’m sure there are other ways to make up for it though,” she whispered, biting her lip. Gag. The man liked where this was heading, and allowed his hand to slip over her back, grabbing her waist and pulling her close. Y/N stiffened as his hand slid dangerously low.
She pushed aside her fear and said, “Why don’t we go somewhere a little more private? I’m sure your friend won’t mind.” The guy smirked and turned to his friend, speaking something in their native language. She only understood bits of Ravkan, but this was surely something she didn’t want to hear. The two guys shared a disgusting look and high-fived before he said, “All set.”
“Wonderful,” Y/N muttered as she turned her back to him, pulling him towards the alley. The guy stayed very close behind her. Y/N felt the weight of his hand on her lower back, slipping ever so slightly lower. She suppressed her shutter and kept telling herself, just a few more feet. Memories of slimy men flipped through her mind like a movie, and Y/N felt as if the walls were closing in around her.
Every step she took, Y/N heard the comments about how such a little girl was so beautiful, but along with that Tante Haleen’s words echoed through her mind as well. Every beating, every client who made her cry, everything terrible.
But one voice kept her walking, ignoring the man’s hand, ignoring his breath on her neck. I don’t want to see you get hurt like that again. You don’t deserve it. Kaz’s voice was the loudest of them all. She didn’t know why, but she didn’t care. He kept her from drowning, and his voice gave her that sense of hope that she could make it through this.
Y/N felt a wave of relief rush through her as she could see the alley maybe six feet in front of her now. She turned towards the Ravkan and gave him a mischievous grin. He took the bait yet again, grabbing her waist and pulling her close. His head found the crook of her neck and started placing wet, nasty kisses. Y/N had to physically hold back her puke.
Just as they were about to stumble into the shadows, a very familiar voice rang out, “Is that my serpent?” Y/N froze. Tante Haleen was staring directly at her with an ice cold glare. “You bitch!” she shrieked. The Ravkan pulled away from her and gave her a confused look. “You know this girl?” he asked the Peacock as she was approaching them. “Oh I know this one all right,” Tante snapped. “She wanted out of my house for the longest time. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s playing you right now! She doesn’t like when men touch her,” she sneered.
The Ravkan glanced around nervously. Y/N couldn’t move or speak. “If you’re going to act like this then I’ll just bring you back to where you belong!” Tante Haleen screeched pushing through the crowd. The Ravkan took one more glance at Y/N before bolting. Before Y/N had known what happened though, Big Bolliger’s body slammed into the Ravkan and dragged him into the alleyway, not before shoving Y/N onto the ground. Tante Haleen reached the girl on the ground and yanked her up by her hair. Memories of the night Y/N took the beating in public resurfaced.
“I told you I’d take you back in chains,” the woman snarled in Y/N’s face. Tante’s hand ran across her cheek and Y/N could feel the tears burning in her eyes. She slapped her repeatedly and threw the girl back on the ground. You don’t deserve it.
Y/N’s head cleared as soon as she heard Kaz’s words echo through her mind. They were as clear as day. “No,” Y/N mumbled, finally able to form words.
“Excuse me?”
“No,” Y/N said more firmly, meeting the woman’s gaze. “I will not!”
Instinctively, Y/N kneed the woman in the stomach and sent her crumbling to the ground. She knew how to fight back. “I’m not scared of you anymore,” Y/N hissed, kicking Tante square in the face. The woman was knocked out cold. Y/N shook herself out and ran into the alley.
Big Bolliger had the Ravkan pinned up against the wall as he was struggling to get something from his pockets. “Thank you, thank you,” Jesper said as the guy handed him two pouches. “Alright I think we got it all,” Jesper said after counting. Y/N let out a sigh of relief as Big Bolliger let the man drop. The Ravkan immediately took off in the opposite direction and disappeared around the corner.
However, Big Bolliger then rounded on her. He came storming at her, shoving her against the wall. She felt his hands close around her throat. Everything was starting to cave in on her again and her mind went back to awful times when men pulled stuff on her like this. “Whoa whoa!” Jesper exclaimed trying to pull him off, but he just shoved him out of the way. “What the hell was that?” Big Bolliger snarled in Y/N’s face. Y/N found herself at a loss for words again, partially from being strangled at the moment.
“You try an act all tough, but I see right through you. And you just proved it! You could’ve ruined the whole job, bitch,” his words cut through her like a knife. “All you’ll ever be is some whore that Brekker decided to pull off the streets for himself.” Ouch.
“Dude, let her go, she did fine,” Jesper interjected. Big Bolliger glared at Y/N for a moment longer before releasing her. Y/N collapsed, coughing and gasping for air. Jesper knelt down beside her placing a hand on her back, but she flinched away from him.
Big Bolliger snorted, “I guess I was wrong. Can’t even take a man’s touch. Looks like you can’t even be a whore right.” Y/N felt tears start to fall. Why did Kaz pick her? She thought miserably.
“That’s enough!” Jesper snarled at Big Bolliger. “Let’s go.”
“Whatever. It’s your funeral when Brekker finds out what happened,” Big Bolliger shoved past Jesper and disappeared back in the crowd. “C’mon,” he said gently, but did not touch the shaking girl. Y/N slowly stood, feeling the throbbing in her neck from his fingers. She still felt like she couldn’t breathe. There were probably marks left too.
Jesper and Y/N made their way back to the Slat slowly. Big Bolliger was already back by the time the pair came in. Kaz’s jaw locked as soon as he caught sight of Y/N’s face. He was not happy. Inej was by her side in an instant, “What happened?” Y/N just shook her head and made her way over to where Kaz and Big Bolliger were sitting. Jesper laid the bags down in front of Kaz as Big Bolliger said, “We were lucky I got there in time. What were you thinking sending her on a job?”
He felt pretty confident with Kaz. “I mean, she froze and almost lost the guy cause what?” Big Bolliger faced Y/N again. Kaz noticed how she physically shrunk away from his gaze, her golden eyes wide with terror again. Kaz also saw light bruising around her neck and her face stained with tears and red marks.
“Cause the woman from the Menagerie came to talk to her,” Big Bolliger answered before Y/N could. If she could even speak. Kaz got the sneaking suspicion that the bruises around her neck were not from the Peacock though. His hard gaze turned back to Big Bolliger.
“What happened to her neck?” he growled. Big Bolliger’s face went pale, but he didn’t answer. “What happened to her neck?” Kaz repeated, his anger rising. When no one answered, Jesper stepped in, “This lunatic grabbed her and threw her up against the damn wall! We got the job done didn’t we?” He exclaimed.
Y/N had never seen it before, and she was sure no one else had either. Kaz completely lost it. The table was flipped in front of him and Kaz’s cane collided with Big Bolliger’s face. “What the hell!” He cried in pain. “I stepped in when she froze up! She needed to be put in place.”
Kaz kicked Big Bolliger in the stomach causing him to hunch over in pain. “You know damn well the job got done and was successful. She got the guy over to you. I don’t care if you’re the strongest, the biggest, the whatever, you do not lay your hands on her again if you want to keep them. Suck up your pride and get over what happened yesterday,” Kaz hissed, leaning over the quivering boy, with a fistful of hair in his hand. “And get the fuck out.”
No one dared utter a word as Kaz lifted himself up from his squatting position. Big Bolliger’s face was swollen and his eyes were now swimming with fear. Y/N had never seen Kaz so angry, and the worst part was that his eyes burned with fury much like Tante Haleen’s did whenever she disobeyed.
“Don’t you all have other stuff to do?” Kaz snapped. The crowd broke apart as everyone scurried away like mice. Inej clung to Y/N’s arm as Kaz turned to the two girls. “Go, Inej,” he said through gritted teeth, obviously not trying to yell at his Wraith. They stared at each other for a hard moment as if she was challenging him. Eventually, his eyes narrowed and he huffed, “I’m not going to hurt her.”
Inej still didn’t budge.
“It’s okay,” Y/N said quietly to her as Kaz glared back. After a moment, Inej dropped her gaze and muttered, “You have a real bad habit of saying everything is okay when it isn’t.” “I know, but this time it is,” Y/N managed a strained smile before removing her arm from Inej’s and moving silently over to Kaz. For the first time in the entire day, Y/N finally felt safe.
Too many of the wrong hands had been on her and she didn’t want to feel suffocated anymore, and with Kaz, that’s exactly what she could get. He glanced at Y/N before heading back up the steps.
Soon enough, he and Y/N found themselves back in his room just as they were the previous day. This time Y/N finally broke down as soon as the door was closed. The horrible memories of every beating came back to her, and the stench of the Ravkan filled her nose again. Before she could stop it, she finally spilled the contents in her stomach.
When it was all out, she felt sufficiently better and stared at the nasty puddle of puke on the floor and realized what she had just done. “I am so sorry,” Y/N looked up at Kaz who seemed to be grimacing a bit, refusing to look at the floor. “I--” Y/N’s voice died in her mouth.
“No, no, it’s uh fine. I’ll make someone else clean it up. I’m honestly surprised you lasted this long anyways,” Kaz groaned a bit motioning her to move away from the puke. He moved her to the window sill and pushed the window open to let some fresh air in. Y/N sat down as Kaz rested a hand on the frame of the building above his head.
The fury in his eyes were gone as he studied her tired looking features. There was a prominent bruise forming on her face and a little cut under her eye. His jaw locked again as his eyes wandered down to her neck, where an outline of Big Bolliger’s fingers bruised her neck.
Y/N squirmed under his gaze as she felt her face heat up. But he still said nothing. He honestly didn’t know what to say.
Finally, Y/N locked eyes with him, and she saw him take in a sharp breath. It was her eyes, gold as ever.
“Look, I know what you’re thinking. I’m fine now. Yes I almost lost the guy, but I mean that damn woman,” Y/N started. “I don’t blame you,” Kaz interrupted. “You don’t have to do that,” Y/N hissed. Kaz seemed a bit taken aback at her outburst, but let her continue.
“You don’t need to baby me. I know I screwed up, but you babying me isn’t going to fix anything. We got the job done, I froze. That’s what happens to people like me. I’m broken, Kaz. I still don’t get why you picked me!” Y/N declared, standing up. “I’m broken. It’ll always be like this for me! Maybe I’ll get better but that pain will still be with me. I haven’t seen my family in years, I’ve been beaten, raped, tortured by the hands of disgusting men. I am completely and utterly--”
“Your eyes,” Kaz said softly, interrupting.
“Wh-what?” Y/N asked, caught off guard at his response.
“It was your eyes. That’s why I picked you. There was something about you that night. It,” he paused for a moment, taking a hesitant step closer to her. Y/N could feel her heart pounding out of her chest.
“It reminded me of myself when I was younger,” Kaz admitted. They were chest to chest right now, and he was looking down at her with dark eyes. He closed his eyes for a moment and said, “It reminded me of when my brother died and who the person I was then. I--I used his body as a float. His dead body. All the way back to the mainland,” Kaz took a shaky breath, but continued, “But you. You were me. You were the little boy fighting to survive under the worst conditions. You were that person who didn’t deserve what the world threw at you. The person who didn’t have anyone to protect him. The person who had absolutely no one.”
“Kaz…” Y/N whispered. He opened his eyes and saw tears running down her face again. Kaz brought a hand up, pausing. Taking a deep breath, he pulled his glove off revealing his slender hands. Y/N had always seen them from far away whenever it was just them, but never this close. She noticed the little scars that decorated his fingers and palm. Just like mine she thought.
Kaz brought his hand back up to her face and she noticed he was slightly trembling. Y/N wanted to move because she knew he was uncomfortable. She didn’t want to put him in this position. But another part of her wanted to see what he’d do next. Her skin began to itch where his fingers hovered.
Kaz wanted to do this. He knew what he did and that sick feeling began rising in his stomach without his gloves. Images of Jordie’s corpse flashed through his mind, but he stared into those liquid gold eyes. They were filled with warmth, not the cold water that nearly killed him. His mind screamed, begged him to put his safety net back on, but he wanted to feel her. And he wanted her to feel him. Not the mask of cool and rough material that could have easily reminded her of the rough hands in her past.
Y/N didn’t dare move. She just let Kaz do what he needed. The next thing she knew, his fingertips were tracing the little scar next to her eye and down her face. For a moment, he allowed her cheek to rest in the palm of his hand while his thumb wiped away a stray tear. His hand was warm on her face and surprisingly soft. She had seen what those hands could do to a person, but with her, they were gentle. He wasn’t the Bastard of the Barrel right now. He was Kaz Brekker.
Kaz Brekker. The boy, Y/N had fallen hopelessly and completely in love with.
And she was the girl with the golden eyes who he had, and would never admit to anyone, fallen head over heels for.
He was pleased that she didn’t flinch under his touch, but as easily as those eyes melted away that drowning feeling, they still weren’t enough. He let his hand trail down to the bruises on her neck before letting it fall to his side.
Y/N felt cold air rush around her and she longed for that feeling of warmth. But, she didn’t want to push it.
“It’ll take time,” Kaz said quietly. She knew what he meant. And he knew she would. “Me too,” she whispered, a small smile on her face.
Kaz’s mouth quirked up a bit as he saw the brightness in her eyes return.
And for that moment, they were content in each other’s presence, neither asking for anything more than what they could give in that exact moment.
_______________________________________________
I hope you all enjoyed this! That last scene with them I was listening to ‘A Thousand Years’ by Christina Perry when I was writing to it, and that LITERALLY made it ten times better so I recommend going back and reading it while listening to that song lol.
#six of crows#six of crows imagines#kaz brekker#kaz brekker x reader#kaz brekker imagine#kaz brekker fic#imagines#fandom imagine#multifandom#multifandom imagines#request#inej ghafa#jesper fahey#grishaverse#grisha#nina zenik#wylan van eck
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one shot draft one lol im scrapping it but i dont wanna delete it forever
lolz eret's betrayal for the tell me the name of god au feat me doing everythng in my power to avoid writing fight scenes bc idk how kuhgj4recd
“Where are the rest of you, Spawn of Herobrine?” The first pillager speaks, its voice a rumbling growl.
“Will you promise my safety if I tell you?”
“If I say yes…”
“It was never meant to be, I suppose. They’re at the park on Stockdale. They were getting food while I scouted ahead.” Eret doesn’t wait for a response before ducking under the pillager the moment she’s released. She makes a break for it.
The_Eret runs for where she knows the entrance to the camp is, and she doesn’t look back.
scene change wow
Wilbur glances up at the rustling, watchful- always watchful- but he’s feeding the baby right now and he doesn’t really have the free hands to kill a skeleton at the moment.
It’s not a skeleton. He shouts, and the younger boys- because they’re all young, they’re so young, but Tommy and Tubbo are younger than he is, and he has to keep them safe- run back to where he is from the playground they’d been running around on. They jog up to him, they haven’t noticed the pillager group yet- hopefully, the pillagers haven’t noticed them. Tommy protests when he gives Fundy to Tubbo but quiets when he’s given the bottle.
“Don’t look behind me, but there are some monsters coming,” he tells them. “I need you to run and hide in that bush,” (He points to a bush a little way- it’s thick but hollow, he looked when they first arrived.) “and feed the baby. You are not-” and here he glares at Tommy- “to try to fight unless you are attacked in the bush. If you are attacked, use this.”
Tommy glares at him, but obeys. God. He’s going to completely ignore that, isn’t he? Wilbur thinks, before steeling himself and turning. There are at least five pillagers, and one of him-- Eret’s not back yet. He draws his bow, and takes a deep breath before firing- and he misses. Shit. Shit! They’ve pulled out their crossbows now, which will slow them down but- he feels the rush of air beside his face and doesn’t look at the arrow he knows is in the tree behind him. If they’re going to be firing he’s got to get them away from the kids. He races around so that the Pillagers are to his side and he’s facing Tommy and Tubbo’s bush- and he can see there is only one seven-year-old in the bush.
Wooooo new pov for a bit wowee gee whiz
Tommyinnit is a Big Man (words capitalized to indicate importance) and he will not stand by while Wilbur fights this battle alone. Sure, he wet his pants a little bit when he saw, like, ten pillagers coming towards them, but he’s going to help Wilbur! He has to. He hands Tubbo Fundy’s bottle- the dumb little baby can’t even feed himself, and Tommy pretends to despise him for it rather than admit to being proud the baby trusts him enough to accept his help over Wilbur’s. Fundy always cries when Wilbur or Eret tries to feed him, it’s really funny. Maybe he trusts Tommy more because they’re closer to the same age? Anyway, he gives Tubso the bottle.
“Stay here,” he whispers, “I’m gonna go help Big Dubs.” He leaves before giving Tubbo the chance to argue. He crouches out from under the bush, and runs at the pillagers, taking his knife out as he goes. Mom, he thinks to himself, whover you are, please let this work. He shouts, drawing the pillagers’ attention. This is good! This is what he wanted, now Wilbur can get close and snipe them! There is nothing scary at all about having like fifteen pillagers aggroed on him!
Wow its wilburs pov again why do i keep changing povs lmao im gonna have to like. Make it less jarring or smth. Cos i'm thinking of this in like movie imagery terms and like. Idk how well going from one pov to another Works in writignfkd
Wilbur knows Tommy is the reason he’s able to shoot at the pillagers without them killing him, but that doesn’t mean he approves of this. Either way, he’s not going to be able to shout at him if he can’t pick off the pillagers before they-- hurt him. Tommy will come out of this alright Tommy has to come out of this alright. Wilbur doesn’t think he could ever forgive himself if Tommy wasn’t okay at the end of this fight. He shoots pillager after pillager, and he’s-- he’s too late.
Big Man Tommyinnit is on the ground, on his stomach. He’s face first in the dirt, and now that Wilbur’s shot the last pillager he can see the blood. God, there’s so much blood.
“TUBBO,” he shouts, desperate, “TUBBO WE NEED TO GET TO THE CAMP NOW!”
Tubbo runs as fast as he can, considering he has the baby and his bag. He runs faster when he sees Tommy, cradled in Wilbur’s arms. Wilbur is already walking backwards- the pillagers had come from the direction of the camp and he could only pray to- whoever the hell his parent was. When Tubbo catches up to him, he takes a second to move Tommy to his back so he can take Fundy.
“I’m going to run these two to camp, I think it’s the best hope Tommy has for surviving. I need you to make your way there as quickly and safely as possible. Assume Eret is already there. I’ll come back to pick you up as soon as Tommy is in their care.”
--
#this is not edited at all iu5gj4rkhends#ill probably come back to this post and do it later but i wanted to get this posted before i forgot ugijtkrf#tell me the name of god au#my thots#pjo dsmp au#c tommy#c wilbur#c tubbo#c eret#dsmp#mcyt
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“Losty Aone” / “Losty Mountain Man🏔” Series:
Outtake Collection #7:
TALKING STAGE OUTTAKES (Right Before Series’ Part 1)
———————————
A/N: sooooooo. Prepare for the feels in this collection. Tumblr said it was too long because I have too many paragraphs—bye🙄 so this will be 7 and next will be 7.5. Please keep in mind they are apart of the same collection as they work well together. I strongly recommend to listen to “Always Be My Baby” By Mariah Carey for the entire read, but if repetition annoys you then just do it for the last outtake in 7.5 which is the confession. It tied for the most fluff votes. If anyone is up and reading this hopefully the next part will be up by the time you finish.
This outtake starts off funny and fluffy but ends angsty, serious and I dont wanna spoil. Fluffville Af, but maybe a bit of a rollercoaster. I poured a lot of heart into this collection, though, so I hope you enjoy it:
‼️THIS IS THE 11TH PART IN A SERIES READ THE OTHER PARTS BEFORE THIS ONE: ‼️
TABLE OF CONTENTS
———————————
One Day After You Noticed Aone and This Baby Doesn’t Know How ACT ☀️💋
“Hello?”
Futakuchi answered his cell phone grumpily as he half-slept.
“Futakuchi. It is Aone.”
Kenji rolled onto his back, wiping his fallen bangs out of his face. “I know. You’re the only person who calls me at 4am. Did you have another wet dream about Y/N?”
“No.” Mountain man answered hurriedly, but then he faltered. “Well, um, actually—yes—and Y/N looked phenomenal...—But that’s not the reason I’m calling this time.”
Futakuchi yawned. “You know, I miss the days back in elementary school when you’d call me because you had a bad dream ... hah....remember Monster Twoosie that lived in your closet?”
Sitting up on his bed, Aone whipped his head to the right to look at his closet. Getting up to close the closet door, he scolded his friend.
“We don’t speak of him, Futakuchi-san.”
Kenji let out a tired laugh. “What is this about then? I thought you’d sleep like a baby knowing that Y/N has finally noticed you.”
Aone returned to his bed, covering his legs under his camouflage blanket. “I’m extremely happy. I can’t stop thinking about her approaching my desk and smiling at me throughout lunch and her taking my phone to put her number in it. It’s not a daydream anymore and it’s just.......” he raked his brain for the word.
“A lot?”
Aone was happy he didn’t need to speak in full sentences to a best friend who could practically read his mind.
“A lot for me, yes, thank you Kenji-san. Usually, when two people are starting to get to know eachother, there is interest on both ends and they just work their way up from there.”
“But there is attraction on both ends for you and Y/N.”
“No. I already know she is the girl for me, and Y/N just figured out who I was yesterday. We are in a very unconventional position.”
“Yes but she’s also the most lost individual—aside from you—that I have ever met, so, what’s your point?”
“How do I get her to like me back?”
“Aone, just be yourself. A lot of girls already like you.”
“I don’t care about the other girls, I care about Y/N. I’ve been myself the past 2 years and she has never even noticed me, so clearly that does not work.”
“Y/N hasn’t noticed anyone, Aone-san.... ask her to name all her teachers I bet she can’t”
“She noticed the outfielder on the baseball team....”
“Right—she noticed that he was a tool. And I won’t let you conveniently forget that he approached her—which you refused to do for two years.”
“That is.............................a fair analysis.”
“Anyway, like I said, just be yourself. If Y/N doesn’t like you then she doesn’t deserve you anyway. Serves her right for being a bimbo the past two years....”
“Kenji-san....” Aone warned in a frightening voice. He hated when anyone had anything bad to say about his crush.
Kenji just laughed through his fatigue because he knew that warning was coming.
“I digress. Now as far as being yourself goes, for starters......how was your texting convo tonight?”
Mountain man was confused.
“Texting.......conversation?”
Kenji’s tired eyes flew open, stunned.
“Y/N gave you her number. She put it in your phone. That’s what you said.”
Aone grunted in agreement.
“So you didn’t text her?!”
“I didn’t know I was supposed to.”
“Holy fuck Aone I’m seriously gonna—“
“There.” Mountain man interrupted his friend.
HUH?! Kenji now felt like he’d just seen Monster Twoosie, because his entire body paled. He spoke slowly as to not lose it:
“Aone.....What do you mean by...............................................there?”
“I just texted Y/N.”
“AT 4 O’CLOCK IN THE MORNING ?!?!?!?!”
Kenji yelled so loudly his parents screamed at him to go to sleep before they take away his tv. He quickly quieted down.
“What did you text her?!”
Aone paused, retrieving the message. He read it aloud: “Good morning, Y/N.”
Futakuchi groaned loudly, gripping his bangs on top of his head.
“I am gathering that I should not have done that?”
Kenji groaned again in response. “No, but I did tell you to be yourself. We’ll see how Y/N feels about you being yourself.”
🏫 AT SCHOOL 🏫
“Aone!”
Mountain man was collecting books from his locker, Kenji next to him leaning on the next locker, when he heard his name being called by his favourite voice ever. The middle blocker looked over in the direction of the voice and gulped.
Kenji nudged him. “Be yourself.” He whispered before you approached.
Aone couldn’t get used to you actually noticing him. He fantasized about it so much when you’d call your cheer friends name, that it just seemed so surreal now that you were actually calling him. On top of that, you looked so beautiful today. (You may have tried a bit more this morning for him) in your school uniform, light but perfect makeup, and a bright smile.
When Aone heard your voice call his name he had to fight back a deep blush because it brought him back to his dream last night where you were calling his name like that—only it was much more breathy and the two of you were in much more.....intimate circumstances.
“Hi, Y/N.” the blonde managed to say as he looked down at you. “You look beautiful today.”
Beside him, Kenji cringed and looked away. He couldn’t imagine being such a simp.
“Aw, thanks!” You beamed. “I just wanted to say thank you so much for that sweet good morning text. When I woke up to it, it completely brightened my day!”
Hidden behind the locker, Kenji’s jaw dropped.
Aone’s heart tightened at your words. “You’re welcome.”
You smiled. “Would you like to have lunch together again today? My treat this time.”
You had no idea how much you made this man’s life by saying these things.
Aone nodded, blushing and unable to speak.
“Great. Can you come down here for a second?” You bent your index finger at him as to say come hither and this big blushy baby bent down to your level, confused.
With him now in reach you leaned in to press your soft lips on his cheek. “I forgot to do it yesterday, but that’s for defending me against that snitch Tsume. See you at lunch!” You skipped away to your next class happily.
Mountain man, on the other hand, was just completely out of commission.
Kenji’s eyes were very wide seeing the whole thing happen and he moved to the same side Y/N was just on. Grabbing his friends shoulder he pulled him up because he looked weird still frozen bending over to meet your height when you were gone.
“I guess Y/N likes you for who you are, Aone-san.”
Aone just stared in the direction you disappeared in. Your platonic peck on the cheek made him feel like he was floating.
“Let’s go, we have study hall.” Kenji patted his friend’s shoulder.
Aone called for him to stop, so Futakuchi turned back around.
“What’s wrong? What is it?”
“I don’t think my legs work anymore, Kenji-san.”
hahahahaha poor baby
Needless to say Kenji san was not impressed to have to wait at his best friend’s locker with him for 5 whole minutes until the shock of you kissing him wore off
You really affected the white-haired bb even when you ignored him so Kenji wasn’t that surprised that this would happen
———————————
Weeks Into The Talking Stage - The Date Tech Boys Attend Katana’s Big House Party! 🥤🎉
“I swear to God if Katana doesn’t leave me alone tonight.......... You owe me, Aone-san.” States Futakuchi grumpily as him, Aone, and Kogenagawa shuffled out of their Uber. They stood in front of Katana’s huge cottage: lit up brightly with glow strobes and pictures of her taped up on the logs like a billboard in downtown Los Angeles.
“I appreciate you two for coming, sincerely. You are good friends.” Aone bowed to them.
Kanji bounced on the balls of his feet, the complete opposite visual of the crabby Justin Bieber look-alike.
“Oh no problem!!! I would have never been invited to a cheerleader’s party if you two weren’t my friends! Y/N inviting you to this is MASSIVE, Aone-senpai! I’m soooo happy I can experience this—hey! I think I see that hot cop cheerleader from before. Maybe she wants to thank me for my donations—!” The big boned setter started walking toward the party but Kenji gripped the back of his shirt, reeling him back in.
Kenji glared at his underclassmen.
“Must I warn you every time?! Play. It. Cool. Don’t stare at the birthday girl’s chest and for the love of God please leave the cop girl alone or we will never bring you to another party again.”
Pouting, Kogenagawa agreed, grabbing a red solo cup from a tray that a waiter was walking around with.
Aone grabbed it out of his hand before he downed it, all while scanning the crowd for his beautiful crush.
“No drinking. You’re underage.” Aone commanded, pouring it out in front of him.
“Right.” Kenji nodded.
The giant setter’s pout deepened. He crossed his arms at Aone.
“Thanks Mom.”
He then stuck his tongue out and Kenji.
“And thanks Dad. What would I do without you two? Besides HAVE FUN, of course!?”
“It scares me to even think about it....” Kenji murmured back, ruffling his setter’s hair who started freaking out because he worked hard on it.
Just then, Takanobu gasped a bit because he finally spotted you in the outdoor crowd on the porch. You were dressed in a long sleeve skin tight bodycon dress that showcased all your curves. And the dress was short. (If you remember correctly from his wet dream This man loooves short skirts on you.):
(You May or May not have chosen something a bit on the sexy side to get the attention of the boy you were starting to enjoy the company of.... and who you invited to be your date tonight—)
The look of you alone made Aone lick his lips and shuffle because had the air outside gotten 10 degrees hotter, randomly?
“Dowwwwn boy.” Kenji murmured when he realized his friend had spotted his crush and was very excited. He had that same look when he saw Y/N in that genie costume, and it was one of unadulterated, innocent, unidentified, lust.
“Aone, you can’t stare at Y/N like that anymore. She notices you now.”
Aone tried his very best and he was able to peel his eyes away from you and back to his best friend. “I wish it were easy.” He stated with a frown. “Especially when she looks like that.”
You were over with a group of popular kids, a red solo cup in your hand filled with red bull, chatting and adding to Katana’s stories when out of the corner of your eye you spot a tall white haired beauty on the outskirts, probably just getting here: Your date. Your heart skipped a beat as you interrupted the boy who was speaking to the group.
“He came, he’s here!!” You gripped Katana on the arm.
“Ow, Y/N!” Katana ripped your hand off her. She fixed the tiara on her head. “Of course he’s here, no man is dumb enough to deny a date with you, Y/N.” She returned to her conversation dismissively.
Kusa walked up the porch steps to give you and Katana hugs. She looked so beautiful!
“Looks like your man Aone brought Kenji-san too.” Kusa said to the two cheerleaders.
Katana almost did a spit take with the contents in her solo cup. Quickly, she scanned the crowd, seeing her ex, she now gripped onto your arm and pulled you through the crowd.
Soon you were faced with your mountain man, who looked amazing dressed in a sexy dark green, might you add. You rubbed the arm that Katana had just been gripping as you stood in front of them.
“Are you alright, Y/N?” Aone asked, looking concerned as his eyes scanned your arm.
He is so flipping sweet!
You nod.
“I know that parties aren’t your thing so I wasn’t sure when I texted you an invitation. But.....you came,” you breathed a sigh of happy relief.
“You asked me to.” He responded, unaware of how romantic that sounded to you or anybody with ears.
He is so oblivious to how gorgeous he is, you thought.
Aone turned to look at your best friend briefly.
“Happy Birthday, Katana. This is from the three of us.” Aone handed Katana a card that had a hefty gift card inside of it to her favourite makeup store (Y/N’s idea after Aone sweetly asked what he should get her).
A/N: AONE IS HUMAN GOALS - DON’T @ ME.
“Kenji you got me a gift??? That is SO SWEET!”
Futakuchi rolled his eyes. “It’s from the three—“
“Come inside with me and I’ll open it!” Katana grabbed the volleyball captain’s hand and pulled him into the swarm of people, towards the house.
Aone almost felt bad bringing his friend to his clingy ex’s party because he needed him there—until he looked back down at you smiling up at him—after which he couldn’t feel anything else but happy even if he wanted to. You made him so unbelievably happy.
“Oh and Um, Y/N, I know this isn’t your birthday, but this is for you.” Aone handed you a card as well.
You hesitated, confused.
Blushing, Aone explained quickly, really hoping that his fight to get you this wasn’t going to make you think he was creepy. “I just thought that.... if we gifted Katana a Fenty Beauty gift card, she’d best enjoy shopping with you—her best friend. So I-I got you a gift card, t-too.” He finished sheepishly.
Bursting inside with butterflies, you gave your date a finger curl again, which he now knew meant to lean down so that you could kiss his cheek. This time you pressed your lips to his cheek a little longer than the last time, and although it was a sweet gesture, Aone felt the blood begin to rush down to his nether region.
You pulled away just in time.
“Thank you. That’s very kind of you, Aone.” You whispered in his ear.
Aone flushed, standing back up to his height hurriedly.
“My pleasure.” He replied shakily.
And was it ever. Because of Aone’s long brewed feelings for you, even your two simple kisses on his cheek kept him awake at night, sometimes recalling the way your soft and perfect lips felt as he showered in the mornings gripping his cock.
He was so happy to be given a chance it was like his increasing hormones and already strong romantic feelings were fighting for dominance now that you were physically interacting with him, albeit minimally.
For the past few weeks you two have been taking your budding friendship/romance incredibly slow, Aone too afraid to push further than you were willing to go, and for you: that just being the speed you take. You two spoke in class, had some lunches together, Aone offered to carry your books and walk you to cheer practice.... things like that. You were just getting to know eachother and you’d even let him take you out on a romantic dinner date last weekend. You always took it really slow with boys until you felt that they were important enough, which is why your ex-baseball player got frustrated with you last year. But that wasn’t Aone. He believes that he would gladly accept just this if that’s what you wanted, though he desperately wanted more. He wanted to call you his.
To you, everything was going extremely well and you were beginning to kind of start looking forward to seeing him in the halls at school as 3rd year rolled around. You may have an itsy bitsy crush on the volleyball player....but you didn’t know for sure. The most you two had ever done was kiss him on the cheek twice, which Aone was MORE THAN HAPPY with.
“You look so handsome, by the way, green is your colour.”
Aone looked away then, snapping out of his day dream about your kisses on his cheek but unable to relax when you complimented him. He couldn’t believe you were giving him all this attention. You were so perfect and someone as perfect as you didn’t choose guys like him.
Well, you hadn’t chosen him yet, Takanobu reminded himself sadly.
“Thank you, Y/N. And you look.....um.....w-well.........” His eyes fell to your mouth-watering curves in that dress. You could tell he very much liked your appearance.
You laughed, deciding to tease him.
“I look...’um?’ That bad, Aone-san? What? Tell me.” You poked his stomach, not dismissing the fact that his stomach was actually rock hard muscle.
Fuck.
Aone shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts and pretend he hasn’t been crushing on you forever so he could speak clearly.
“No, not bad. Quite the contrary.” His face softened as he looked back at your face. “I’m trying to tell you in the most respectful way that you look......that you look like the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”
On instinct, your face broke out into an ear splitting smile. Aone felt like he’d won the fucking lottery seeing you smile like that at him.
“Thank you, Takanobu! Care to enjoy the party with me?” You reached your hand out and the middle blocker just stared at it for a few seconds, still shook from your dazzling smile. Luckily, Kanji was still there so he pushed Aone inconspicuously from behind, allowing him to snap out of it and take your small hand in his large one.
Aone had to take a deep breath when you turned away to lead him into the crowd because the feeling of your hand in his made him feel utterly complete.
He was falling harder n faster than ever before.
And there were no brakes.
He just prayed you’d start falling, too, and soon.
———————————
taglist: @crushzone @galagcica @nairobiisqueen @chaichai-the-weeb
Part 7.5: CLICK HERE
#aone can get it#aone takanobu x you#aone x reader#aone takanobu smut#aone takanobu#kenji futakuchi#koganegawa kanji#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu!!#sexy hq boys#haikyu headcannons#haikyuu boys#hq headcanon#haikyu headcanon#aone takanobu fluff#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu series#haikyuu stories#hq long stories#date tech#date teko#haikyuuwritersnet
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Unbidden - Epilogue 3
Masterlist | Previous | Next
Content warnings: none, this is fluff city
Morgan was deep in concentration. He was worrying his bottom lip between his teeth as he picked at his hair, untangling it carefully. It was slow going, it seemed, and based on his expression he wasn't having a great time of it. The sudden onslaught of wind and rain had taken both of them by surprise this time, and made an absolute dog's breakfast of his hair.
"It's easier for me to get the snarls out of my hair when I start at the ends and work my way up," Blaise said. "Want some help with that?"
He hummed a vague assent and she took up a position behind him, starting with the part at the back of his head that would be the hardest for him to reach. He didn't seem to mind her touching his hair, generally, and she enjoyed it.
"If you braid it," she suggested after a minute or two, "it might help it keep from getting all knotted up like this."
"I don't know how to do that," came the response after a moment.
"Oh, it's easy! I can do it for you. And maybe teach you, after!" Was it weird to be so excited about this? No, she decided, it wasn't. He knew all sorts of stuff and taught her new things all the time. It wasn't often she got to return the favour.
"All right," Morgan said, and Blaise grinned to herself as she moved on to the next section. It went a lot faster with both of them working on it. Gods, it had been a long time since she'd braided anyone else's hair. Or her own, for that matter. It was faster to just tie it back. But it was the sort of activity you didn't just forget how to do, and she tried not to bounce with excitement once Morgan was ready.
"Here," she reassured him, "I'll keep it nice and loose so it doesn't pull." It went faster than she would have liked, but braiding was one of those things her hands liked to do almost on their own. In only a couple of minutes, Morgan's hair was tamed into a neat plait, secured with a nice little bow in the leather hair tie. "All done," she announced, and peeked around to see his reaction.
He ran careful fingers along the length of it, taking the tail over his shoulder to peer at it in wonder. It suited him, having the hair pulled back from his face. He wasn't traditionally handsome, not by a stretch, but he had a good face with features that were interesting to look at. His eyes were bright and clever, widened now as he examined her handiwork, not squinted as they often were when it was sunny or when he was trying to see something that was a little further away. The lashes framing them were longer than they seemed at first glance, probably because they were white like the rest of his hair, and that made them harder to see. The high lines of his cheekbones were striking without a curtain of hair blocking them off, accentuating the natural sharpness of his other features. She staunchly avoided thinking too long on the tiny white scars that littered the skin of his face irregularly, some on his cheeks, some by his eyes, some by his mouth. They weren't as stark and shocking as the big ones on the rest of him, but they were just as new. And she still hated them. They stood out against the otherwise reasonably smooth texture of his skin. That was a little weird - she'd never seen him shave, but he'd never had facial hair, either.
Oh, fuck, he was looking at her now. He'd said something. She went back over the sounds in her memory, but they didn't resolve into anything like words. Shit. "Sorry, what? I, uh. Started daydreaming. Didn't mean to."
"That's all right. What were you thinking about?"
"Not a lot," she dodged the question. It would definitely be weird to say she was just… enjoying looking at his face. Actually, that wasn't too far off from what he'd said, that first uncomfortable night on their way to Tristram. Maybe it would be fine. "Just taking a good look at you. I like your face. Have you ever grown a beard?" she added quickly as doubt started to settle on his features like a cloud crossing in front of the sun.
"I… no," he said, bringing his hands up to touch his cheeks in a motion that seemed almost like he was trying to hide. "I've never… had facial hair. It doesn't grow."
"I don't think you're missing out on anything," Blaise reassured him, looking up at the ceiling of their temporary shelter just to take her gaze off of him. "It's probably not very comfortable. They sure are scratchy, anyway. I can't imagine having something like that on my face all the time." That mental image took her by surprise, and she laughed aloud. Morgan looked at her questioningly. "I just thought how funny I'd look with a little moustache, like Telash," she explained.
Morgan tilted his head a little. "I think a style like Devak would suit you better," he said, the tiniest hint of a smile playing around the corner of his mouth. Devak had a massive bushy beard that had gone halfway down his chest and tickled unbearably between her thighs. The thought was even more ridiculous than the one she'd come up with, and she laughed so hard it brought tears to her eyes.
Morgan didn't laugh with her, but the smile stole more fully onto his face. He shifted a little to lean up against her shoulder. That was really nice, how comfortable he was getting.
"Thank you for helping me with my hair," he said. "I like it very much." Then, more quietly, "It doesn't bother me, you know. Being ugly. You don't have to pretend like I'm not."
Blaise bit her tongue. You aren't ugly, she wanted to say, but that wasn't going to go over well at all. He was going to think she was lying to him. "I'm not pretending anything," she said instead. "You're interesting to look at. And the only time I've really seen you with your hair back was that one time in Kurast. But if you don't like it, I won't, like, stare or anything."
"I'm used to being stared at," he said. Of course he was. He looked like a kid and an old person at the same time, small and white-haired but not wizened or bent. He wore a hood sometimes, but even then he still stood out.
"And I'm used to sleeping on the ground," she shot back, "but that doesn't mean I like it. You can tell me if you don't like when I do something, Morgan. I need you to tell me, or else I won't know."
"I know. I really don't mind when you look at me. I just… wasn't expecting it. Earlier. When you said you… like my face. I'm not… I don't… one moment," he said, and closed his eyes briefly. Blaise felt a little bit bad about how flustered he seemed to be. Maybe she'd have to take it easier on the compliments, avoid commenting on his appearance if he was going to be so sensitive about it.
"You need me to tell you when I'm uncomfortable," he said after a moment. Blaise nodded. "I need you to tell me things plainly as well. There are a lot of things I don't understand." He paused. "Especially interpersonal things. Like attraction. You… say that sort of thing to your partners, the flattery," he clarified, and it clicked.
"I'm not - no, I'm - all right, okay. I'm not attracted to you," she reassured him, which was one of the weirder things she'd ever had to reassure someone about, but he relaxed noticeably. "And even if I was, I know you aren't interested. I'd never push you into anything."
"I appreciate that, thank you." Morgan looked at his hands, fidgeting a little by pressing his fingertips together. "How do you know?" he asked next, quietly. "When you're attracted to somebody? What does it feel like?"
Blaise considered her response. Morgan was clearly serious about the question. He was always serious, pretty much, although apparently he also knew how to be hilarious and just hadn't been using that skill. It was just a weird thing to ask about, for a man who was probably older than she was. But hey, if this meant another opportunity to teach him something, great.
"I've never really thought about it," she said before the silence could get too long. "I know it when it happens, though. It's kind of like when you're hungry and you smell something really good cooking, and you just want to eat until you're full. Except it's not food you want, it's a person."
Morgan frowned a little, thoughtfully. Blaise had thought it had been a pretty good explanation. "Think about the prettiest person you've ever seen," she tried instead. "Or handsomest, or whatever."
"All right."
"Now, you picked someone, right? That's a kind of attraction, thinking someone looks good."
"I think I'm doing something wrong," he said, brow still furrowed. "I've never felt… hungry… about a person."
"Not even the prettiest one? You didn't want to touch her, or kiss her, or anything?"
"No. I don't like those things. I just wanted… I suppose I just liked to look at him," Morgan said softly, and holy shit, he looked so sad all of a sudden.
"Well, for me," Blaise said, maybe a little too quickly, "it's like an urge. Like an itch where the only way I can scratch it is to be touching the person I'm attracted to. Ideally in, uh, a sexual way." Hopefully this wouldn't be too weird. It felt like it might be getting weird. Why did she always have to make it weird?
"I understand the… mechanism of sex," Morgan said, looking more perplexed than sad now, which was a step in the right direction, "but not the desire. Do you really just look at a person and feel that you want to couple with them?" Blaise tried to keep a straight face. He just sounded so skeptical.
"I mean, I like to get to know them a little first, usually, but basically that's it, yeah. Not everybody feels it the same way, or at all," she added. "Some people get that feeling all the time, like me - you've seen some of my partners, you know I'm not picky. But some people only ever have eyes for one other person. And some just aren't interested at all, and I'm pretty sure that's normal too. The smith by our house was like that, when I was growing up. Never married, never had kids. Didn't want to do much of anything other than work her forge. She was gorgeous, too, could have had her pick. I guess she did, though, in a way."
That last little bit had been calculated to set Morgan at ease. It was interesting to know a little more, but it had been fairly obvious since Lut Gholein that he didn't have the same experiences as she did. After all, he'd been faced with a flock of beautiful, highly skilled courtesans and immediately tried to flee, then set up a deal with one of them to keep the rest away. Blaise tried to observe him without being incredibly obvious. He seemed very deep in thought for a while, and she did her best to let him sit and digest but the urge to move around started to creep under her skin. She freed her hair from its ponytail one-handed and raked her fingers through it.
"Thank you," he said eventually. "For explaining. I think I understand a little better now."
"Any time," Blaise replied, and she meant it. "Now. You ready to learn how to braid?"
"Yes, please."
Blaise moved to give him a good view of the back of her head. "All right. Let's start with the basics, nothing too fancy. You need three sections, like this." She separated her hair simply, starting low on her head like she'd done for him. "Then you just take turns putting the pieces on the sides into the middle. Left, then right. Left, then right. You can cross the pieces over each other or under each other, just so long as it's always the same."
"Oh, that's… could you do it slower?"
"Sure." She raked the braid out of her hair and started again, slowing the movements of her hands so he could see more clearly as she manipulated the sections. There was a lot of flipping of her hands, she realized, and little movements with her fingers she hadn't really been conscious of doing.
"Didn't have any sisters to teach you how to deal with all that hair, huh?" she asked, hardly thinking. Morgan was silent. Shit. Her stupid mouth. He hadn't ever really talked about his family, had he? Probably a touchy subject. Maybe they didn't like that he'd decided to join the Order of Rathma. Couldn't blame them, really. She kind of hated it herself. Time to steer the conversation away a little. "How come you keep it so long, anyway?"
"I don't like having it cut," he said quietly. "It feels better when it's long."
"Oh. That makes sense." It would certainly feel weird for her to have short hair. She listened to the rain beating down outside. It was making her a little sleepy. "Rain's making me kind of sleepy," she said. "Might grab a nap until it lets up." Morgan gave a soft hum, the small little noise he did to let her know he'd heard her but didn't have anything to add. Blaise sat back against the wall of the shelter and raised her arm in invitation. "Come on," she encouraged. "If you want."
He only hesitated a moment before moving in to press against her side. Blaise smiled to herself. This was perfect, finally, not having to worry about making him too uncomfortable with her casual touches. He knew he didn't have to accept it, she'd made sure that was clear. But she was glad he did anyway. He deserved more affection, more comfort. More everything. She let herself drift off in the steady patter of the rain, embracing her closest friend. Yes, this was perfect.
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And the snakes start to sing
A/N: Okay, so my anxiety since this entire Covid-19 situation came to light has been...pretty deteriorating to say the least. It’s funny(which it’s really not),The only thing I can think might help is to dig back deep into my writing. I really want to live in the fantasy worlds I can create in my head right now. So I will.
Warnings: Some angst(it is during the Marauders era), cursing, SMUT, and I feel like I should add this here- I wrote this as self therapy so this reader insert def has some specific looks and traits, if that bothers you I understand, but also I warned you so...
Summary: Sirius Black and Y/N steal a tender moment in the middle of the war. Marauders Era. Young Sirius Black(Ben Barnes) x Plus Size Reader
The way you slam your body into mine reminds me that I’m alive,
But monsters are always hungry darling- and they're only a few steps behind you.
Finding the flaw,
The Poor weld,
The place where we weren't quite stitched up right- Richard Silken
Part l
Adrenaline is a hell of a drug.
You mull on that fact as you sit in the driver's seat of the muggle car, gripping the wheel, skin pulled tight across your knuckles. You’re shaking - vibrating from deep in your core with so much velocity that it makes your teeth chatter. Your muscles ache as you try to regain control of your body, of your breathing- the only thing keeping you from completely crumbling is the focus that you have on the road in front of you-
Even then you don't really see the asphalt, dimly lit by street lamps that seemed to be few and far between the further you drove.
All you can see is that alley.
Dark, dank and frigidly cold, the death eaters that weren't supposed to be there, but who had seemed to show up in puffs of smoke. In three’s- and then four.
Five.
Six.
You hadn’t been able to keep count.
Faster than you, James and Mad Eye could take on.
For a moment, everything had been lightning speed. Time passed fast, in a blur. Blood and screaming. Spells, violent spells that you’d never uttered before thrown left and right, by both sides.
You'd watched bright green flashes pass by like shooting stars, almost grazing you. Illuminating the corridor in razor sharp rays.
So close that you could taste them.
Death tastes acidic. Bitter. Fizzles on your tongue and sticks to the back of your throat.
You still swallow around it even now, hours later, as you drive.
You’d forgotten how much you hate muggle travel. You’d much prefer to apparate, but James is in no state. He sits beside you, slumped in the passenger seat, clutching his side and wincing at every bump. Having grown up with his pure blood parents, there's no way he could have driven anyway, didn't know how. Perfect Potter isn't capable of everything, turns out.
That's fine, you’d assured him. You needed to be able to focus on something before the very little part of your brain that was still loosely wound, unraveled.
You hadn't shared that part, but you think he knows.
The radio crackles and a muggle band plays lowly.
The car makes its way down the long winding roads in silence. Shock settling over the two of you like a heavy blanket. There’s nothing that can be said- no words that could describe the ice that still ran through your veins or that could balm what had happened.
When you hit a particularly nasty pothole, cajoling the car roughly he hisses through his clenched teeth.
“Sorry’, fuck, I’m sorry” You apologize, righting the wheel in a tight jerk to the right, pressing on the brake. “Are you okay? Still bleeding?”
He’s damn lucky that that Confringo charm hadn't caught him directly, but still. When he’d flown into that brick wall, he’d done it with a bone crunching thud. You knew a few of his ribs were broken, his skin rubbed raw and cut open.
“M’fine. Moody did what he could- stopped the bleeding. I think. It stings like a son’va bitch though” James sounds tired, gravely. Voice void of that usual mirth it carried- his chestnut skin pale, clammy. “Drive faster- hopefully Dorcas is already back”
He’s right, Dorcas has healing hands. She’d whip up an ointment, utter an incantation, and he’d be good as new. You step down on the accelerator, foot heavy and mind eager to get somewhere that feels safe, even the trees you pass by feel like they’re watching you, waiting to leap at any turn.
Would you ever feel safe again? After looking into those eyes, seeing that face-
———-
The ride takes hours,
Your mind zones to dark places,
The two of you reach the current makeshift safe house.
———
Protective charms line it heavily, Dumbledor himself had drawn them
To the naked eye, you pull up onto what looks like an old decrepit factory in a row of old decrepit factories- all concrete and broken glass windows. Gritty rust covered metal high beams and caved in ceilings, the tires crunch on the gravel out front- you can barely put the car in park before you’re overcome by a sea of red-
Red hair, soft hands. Vivid green eyes.
Lilly comes bounding out, long legs propelling her forward fast.
“Y/N!” She shrieks as you climb out, you don't blame her for how she runs to James' side of the car. He looks far worse than you do, you think. But then again you haven't seen your reflection because the glance over she gives you is horrified.
“I’m okay, just get James! Lets get him inside” You hurry, your legs feel heavy as you meet her on the other side of the car.
It’s begun snowing again, fat flurries falling from the inky night sky, cold enough to start the shaking again. Your hands are uncoordinated paws, good for nothing and yet you help Lily, take one of James arms around your own shoulder as she takes the other, the two of you supporting him - dragging him towards the entrance.
“Gideon! Go find Dorcas!” She yells for one of the fiery headed Prewet twins who are spilling out of the building. Merlin, they look similar- she could be their kin. “Mad Eye was able to send us word about what happened in London! We’ve been waiting for you! I’ve been so scared- thank bloody God you two are even alive”
“We’re okay-“ you start, trying to calm your friend down. She seemed like she was two seconds away from blowing a fuse and well- you were one of the few who knew about her condition. You weren’t so sure complete emotional breakdowns were good for developing fetus’.
“Only because Y/N. She saved my life. She saved us all back there” James is barely conscious and defining not coherent.
You hadn’t saved, you’d killed. Innocent people included.
Lily is staring at you past James' bowed head and you can’t see her eyes.
Not when James is dragged in and whisked away by Dorcas who is already whisking something in a bowl, her braids piled atop her head and her deep eyes worried- yet sage. Calm, as she calls to you from over her shoulder. “That gash on your forehead is nasty! I’ll get to you next”
You hear them laying James down on the makeshift kitchen table and for some reason your feet are frozen in place. You can’t follow. Don’t care to see the chunk that was taken out of him back in the alley.
In the alley. In the snow; cold and frigid. Voldemort had appeared from the shadows and raised his wand high and you knew you were going to die, even though you weren’t ready to. Didn’t want to-
“Y/N” you raise your eyes-your mint and her emerald meeting somewhere in the middle. Lily’s are worried, the almond shape exaggerated.
You wonder if yours convey how far away you feel. How close you are to drifting right out of your body and floating up- somewhere quiet.
Because everything was too loud now- everyone bustling in and around you. Emaline Vance, Sturgis Podmore, Frank Longbottom- where was Marlene? And Sirius?
Had the night been as bloody and brutal for them as it had for you?
“Go” you croak at her “Go with him, Lil. Mending bones hurts like hell- I’ll just- I just need to-“
She looks torn, and you imagine she is. Her best friend is quite obviously on the verge of a panic attack and her fiancé is bleeding out on the kitchen table.
“Go” you insist once more, squeezing her forearm through her maroon cardigan, trying to encourage her.
You don’t inculpate her for James taking precedence, she all but peels herself away from your side to go sit next to him, to grasp at his hand as Dorcas covers his wounds in dittany and he grunts loud and pained.
You stumble backwards, not wanting to see anymore blood for the moment.
Maybe ever.
No, focus.
You force your brain not to check out yet as you limp back into the open space that seems to be slowly but surely filling up with other members of The Order.
People talk over each other and it's hard to get anyone to answer your questions.
When Remus, Shacklebolt and Peter walk into the fort, all looking disheveled but uninjured- you finally start getting somewhere.
Peter’s speech is fast and broken and nervous- you keep telling him to slow down. You can't manage to understand what he's saying.
“Fuck, Peter! Merlin just shut up- shut up for two seconds. Remus, what happened?”
Edgar Bones and his family were killed, but everyone else was still intact- just scattered. Trying to find their way back home, back to headquarters or any local safe house.
You gape at Remus, as he tells you the news. His voice is sturdy even though he looks like he might keel over at any moment, which is why you’d always sought him out, since you were kids. Remus was in a constant state of suffering, and yet he was nearly always the most clear headed person in the room.
His eyes though- they always did betray him. You can see it in the amber iris. The horror. The sorrow. The fear.
Edgar Bones was dead.
Edgar, and his husband, and his two children- he’d show them to you once. Opened the silver locket that was ever presently around his neck and two smiling waving dark haired cherub cheeked kids waved back from the photos inside.
Bile rises in your throat and you stare up at Remus, still just trying to process it all. His mouth is still moving and is certainly forming words, but the loud whomping in your ears keeps you from hearing them.
You’re all going to die, the thought is sharp and ragged and cuts up your brain.
“Oh”, is all you can manage. It’s a whisper, the most you can force. Remus reaches for you and you easily avoid his big scarred hand, stepping away from it before it can land on your arm.
You choose to ignore the hurt look that flashes briefly on his face.
Kingsley Shacklebolt starts listing off the known locations of other members then. Dumbledor is delivering the news to the Bones, Feniwick is held up at Hogwarts- there had been an attack in Hogsmeade. Four Muggle borns had been killed in the street. Sirius and Marlene along with Alice Longbottom have made fort at the McKinnon’s cabin, a known safe house, stuck for the moment as most are.
“Mad Eye’s gone to rally with Aberforth. I think they’re trying to track the Lestranges- that’s w-who ambushed us tonight”
By the look they give you, you know they know those aren't the only people who you’d crossed wands with.
“You know who is on the move, we heard it- he’s angry cause’ of what happened back in London. What did happen? Is James okay?” Peter questions and you really do feel bad for snapping at him, for telling him to shut up. He's just scared, for himself and for his friends.
You know how much Peter cared about James.
“He’s fine, he’s in the kitchen getting mended by Dorcas- Lily’s with him”
The rest of it, the story that everyone seems so eager to hear, you hold back. Tight lipped, chest heavy. The stout blonde man looks like he wants to ask more, go forward, but he just nods and scurries into the kitchen.
That’s fine. James’ll relay it all to his friends, to the Order.
And everyone will know just what you did.
Your stomach rolls threateningly.
————-
Adrenaline is a hell of a drug.
First- you soar on it. It carries you through, you can’t feel pain or time as it curses through your bloodstream. But then,then, after your body’s flight or fight checks off, it makes you crash. You stumble down from the high- pain throbbing and world going molasses slow. Your stomach churns and your head pounds from the whiplash like stop.
You empty what feels like your soul into the porcelain toilet of a spare bathroom that you’d barley found before you started spewing. It’s violent, your whole body convulses with every gag, and it seems to go on for an eternity even though you can’t even remember what and when you’d last eaten.
You choke on bile a bit before you stumble over to the sink, turning on the creaky faucet and putting your mouth right in the stream.
You’d been able to stand the questioning and the looks and the pricing for just about a half an hour before that familiar wave of anxiety that you’d managed to keep at bay overwhelmed you and sent you running.
A breakdown was very much due. You’d rather no one bare witness to it.
Not even Lily who’s threatened to plow down the door at least twice now.
When you connect eyes with yourself in the mirror you almost look away. The reflection that stares back at you is alien. The woman feels so far away- that you raise a shaky hand, touching the glass. Trying to convince yourself that it’s real.
That you’re real.
There’s blood, mostly dried, that has run into your eye from the cut in your hair line that’s really more of a sloppy open bruise and you rinse it off, scrubbing with your fingers til’ it hurts. The blood won’t come off, your hands stained red. Blood everywhere. Your blood. James blood. That Death Eater’s. Those muggles that had just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time-
Your breath goes choppy again, sobbing on air as you think about it. You just need the red to be gone, you’ll feel better once it’s gone.
In the corner of the mirror, you side eye the shower behind you.
——————
Part ll
The rooms in this place remind you of the girls dormitories back at Hogwarts.
Or maybe you just miss the girls dormitories back at Hogwarts.
You bet it’s the latter, because the only thing similar is the fact that there’s a row of beds. There’s no Lily laughing, or Marlene painting, or Mary dancing. All of those things feel so distant now, memories that you never thought to cherish but that you now hold on to with claw like ferocity.
You’d do anything to be fifteen again, cooped up in the castle on a sunny afternoon.
Instead you stand in the middle of a drafty room, your skin raw and flushed from the blistering temperature of the shower, the ends of your curly hair dripping down your back as you clutch the towel that someone (Lily) had left outside the bathroom door to your body.
You sit down on the bed where your nap sack had been dumped- the extender charm you’d put on it had been a bitch to get right, but you're grateful for it as you dig around it’s never ending contents- able to find a clean cream colored sweater and leggings.
You're shimmying the clinging black fabric up your thighs when there's a knock at the door.
You sigh. You can’t keep putting her off. You’re being a shitty friend when she’s trying to be a good one, and you know it.
“Come in, Lily. I’m dressed” You call, back to the door as you drag the towel over and through your hair, frowning at the curly untamed state, before beginning to twist it into some semblance of a bun.
“Actually, not to disappoint you but it’s just me”
The voice is deep, silken. Familiar. Distinctly masculine, and definitely not Lily’s.
You turn fast, and hopeful. Your eyes wide when they land on the tall figure that looms in the doorway.
“And I was hoping you wouldn't be dressed”
Sirius stands there, his slate eyes combing over you, a small grin tugging at the left side of his mouth. He looks a little tired- the fine lined wrinkles on the outer corner of his eyes and the bags under them both deep, pronounced. He obviously hasn't shaved since you’d last seen him, weeks ago. What had been a shadow was now dark scruff. His hair is scraped away from his face, tied in it’s usual knot at the back of his neck and he’s donning his signature worn leather jacket. He looks so familiar that it almost brings tears to your eyes. Standing there, being crude and handsome and real.
You felt so foreign in your own skin that seeing him so solid is a relief that you can't quite explain. He’s a strong boulder, a rooted tree, that you can tether yourself to.
You want to tell him that. That you didn't realize how much you needed him until that moment. You kind of hate that realization because needing Sirius Black was stupid, so stupid.
“What are you doing here?” Is what comes out instead. Wrong, you always say the wrong thing when he’s around “I thought you we’re stuck at the Cabin”
He doesn't look offended, but he does look concerned, as he closes the door behind him. “I was. I was able to slip past them though.'' He shrugs, casually, as though he hadn't risked his life leaving the McKinnon’s.
He was always so blase about everything. It drove you absolutely bonkers.
“I’m taking it you did that on four legs?”
Ever since you’d learned about Sirius, James and Peter's Animagi sized secret, everything made sense. You knew they weren't lucky enough to get away with all that shit they had back in school. Definitely not smart enough, either.
He shrugs again and you bite the inside of your cheek hard as he sits down on the bed that you had claimed for the night as your own. He's so much taller then you that even sitting in this position, the two of you are almost eye level.
“I heard what happened, I wanted to make sure you guys were okay. Plus, once my cousin got her pound of flesh she took off- left Crabbe and McNair in the forest. Fucking idiots couldn't find their own noses in a mirror. There’s no IQ test for up and coming Death Eaters, is there?”
Of course he’d heard. You can't meet his gaze- that intense stare that he’s been giving you since he’d walked in. You don't know what to make of it, don't really know how it makes you feel.
But then again none of that was anything new. There was no label to slap onto what you and Sirius had started, onto what you felt for him. Marlene had accused the two of you being fuck buddies, but that wasnt it.
You’d have to have been friends before it for that to be accurate, which you weren't.
You weren't even sure that you were friends now.
All you knew is that you were glad to see him, even if that happiness was laced with confusion.
“I suppose not. Your cousin isn't the brightest bulb either. She’s just cunty enough to be through most of the time” You’ve always despised Bellatrix Black- ah, no, she’s a Lestrange now isn't she? Figures she’d marry one of those fucked up inbred brothers. Trash congregates with trash.
“True. She always was committed to being cruel”
“She needs lend some of that commitment to brushing her hair regularly”
Sirius snorts, shaking his head a bit. You’re good, so fucking good at deflecting “You know Dorcas is still looking for you. She wants to check out your head”
“It’s a shallow cut, I’m fine” sounds hollow even to your ears and his small scoff is honestly what you would've given him if the roles were reversed. “I am” you start stronger, trying, really trying “I’m just...tired. I’m rubbish at combative spells- I know you remember me in D.A.D.A. I could barely pass my Newt. It took a lot out of me, is all”
Sirius lets you ramble, which is a nicety for him because you can see that he’s fighting himself from cutting you off. Sirius doesn't take bullshit, can't stomach it.
“You went head to head with Voldemort tonight and you’re trying to tell me that you’re ‘rubbish at combative’ spells? What the fuck, Y/N?” He says bluntly, grabbing you by your wrists as you try to back away, holding you steady, not letting you run away. “It’s just me. Talk to me”
The vulnerability you feel in that moment is only just weighed out by your stubbornness as you stare right back at him, teeth clenched, unwilling to break that eye contact. He was calling you out, almost challenging you.
“What do you mean what the fuck? You what the fuck, Sirius! I don’t know what you want me to say-” You’re defensive, your hackles are raised and your voice is razor sharp.
“What happened?”
“Oh, bugger off. Don't act like you didn't talk to James before you came up here. You know exactly what happened”
“I want you to tell me what happened- no, don't look at me like that. I’m not the others, I’m not- I’ve told you everything. All the ugly that I’ve seen, that I’ve done. I would never judge you, and what you were forced to do tonight? That’s not something that anyone is going to judge you on” His voice is too soft, it doesn't match the strong grip of his long fingers around your wrist.
Doesn’t match the rough way he usually fucks you or the lukewarm looks he gives you when the two of you are in public.
You tug on his hold, if only to make sure he won't let go.
He doesn't.
Tethered, your brain again supplies that word for the feeling of security he gives you.
“I killed three people tonight, I think. I don't know- it was all so fast, everything happened so fast. We were just supposed to be gaining intel, you know? And then out of nowhere they were swarming us, Sirius. Blocking is in. James got hit right before Voldemort apparated in and I- I knew we were going to die. So I- I just blew everything up” Tears are rolling down your face as you recount the events. You don't know how to describe to him how cold it was, how scared you were. You’d never experienced fear like that “I didn't have control of that spell, I’d read about it, but I had no idea that it was going to…”
The fucked up part is that you knew it might. You knew that it could incinerate everyone and everything. Including you and James and Moody. But in that moment...that desperation you felt out weighed it all.
“Hey, hey look at me- we’ve all been there. You did what you had to do. You dont think we all throw out spells that we have no fucking idea how to use In the heat of the moment?” You didn't realize that you’d said that last part aloud, but confessing to Sirius had gotten all too easy these last few months.
He made your lips loose, lowered all your inhibitions without your permission. You hated him for it. Craved him every moment that he wasn't around for it.
This war was turning you to stone. Cold and rigid, but You didn't feel like you had to be marble hard when he was around.
“I could've killed us all. I killed those muggles- fuck. They didn't know- they didn't do anything” You’re sobbing again, soft underbelly exposed. He could gut you right now if he wanted to. “They were innocent”
“Shh, C’mere” He pulls you in between his spread legs, lets go of your wrists in order to envelope you in his gangly arms, to squeeze at your thick waist and shoulders as he holds you. “You didn't kill them, Y/N. James said it was the counter curse that Voldemort used that hit them- think about the positioning. They were on the same side of the alley that you were- crossing that street, they got hit with a curse that was meant for you”
You shake your head, burying your face in the soft thin skin of his neck because he’s wrong. You know he is. James was out of it, pain clouding his senses. You knew what you did.
Sirius doesn't argue it further, just lets you cling to him. Allows your cries, ugly and snotty, to shake you both.
He lets you get it all out- until you're hiccuping on the last of your tears. You're completely slumped against him, pretty much sitting in his lap as he supports all of your weight. You’d be more self conscious in that moment if you had any energy left to be.
“It was so horrible. There were...pieces of people. Everywhere” You shudder because you can still see it. Like you're still there.
Sirius’ arms tighten at that, squeezing you to him for a minute. A hug within a hug,
“There are casualties in war...it sounds fucked up, and it doesn't make any of what happened tonight better, but it is what it is”
He’s not nice, not really. He gives you the hard truth that you don't want to swallow. They aren't the pretty words that you want, but they are what you need.
War is ugly, and up until tonight, you’d been willingly ignorant to that fact. You’d heard the horror stories of what Voldemort and the death eaters had done, and were doing, but you'd never experienced any of it first hand.
Seeing changed everything.
No one, from either side would come out of this clean. Everyone and everything would be blood stained, tainted.
It’s a heavy realization, that the world you were fight for would never be the same.
You pull away from Sirius then, grabbing his hand and losing your fingers with yours when he goes to grab, to keep you close. He watches, dark brows pulled together, as you lie down on the lumpy old bed, head resting on the singular flat pillow.
“Lay with me? Please?” You give his hand a tug, tac on that pretty please at the end.
Like it’s necessary.
Like he wasn't planning on staying since the moment he’d walked through that door- you could have thrown a fit. Hit him, hexed him, and he still wouldn't have left you. “I’m so tired”
He stands from the bed and you make a small hurt little sound.
“I’m not going anywhere, hush” He smiles, canine grin and crinkled nose as he sheds his leather jacket, combat boots and scratchy dark jeans coming off next, leaving him in a long sleeved t-shirt and a pair of threadbare black boxers that had seen better days and definitely were sporting a hole or two.
“Lumos Nox” with a flick of his wand, the lights in the room go out.
The bed really wasn't big enough for two people, but you made due. Sirius all but laid his entire long lean body on top of yours, acting as a sort of human blanket.
“Oof, bloody hell, Sirius!” you tease, squirming under him for a minute but loving every inch of him pressed down on top of you. You felt secure, safe. So different then you had in the car when you’d wondered if you’d ever feel this way again. You twine your arms around him, giving him the room to nuzzle his face into your bosom, nosing at the soft fabric of your sweater as your fingers bury themselves in his thick onyx hair.
He’s all but purring as you scrape your nails against his scalp. He’s not really a big scary dog at all, no. He’s more pussycat than anything.
The silence is peaceful, his head rests on your chest and everything smells like him. Sandalwood and cigarette smoke, and something sweet that you could never quite put your finger on. Dark and sensual and overwhelming. It always sticks to your clothes, after nights like this. You know you'll smell him in your hair for days.
Sometimes it’s still mind boggling that this is where the two of you had ended up. That you got to have him like this. You remember the days that you would pine for him, years one through four at Hogwarts had been hard on your fragile little heart. Too young to fully understand that boys like Sirius didn't look twice at girls like you.
And he hadn't.
The girls he dated, and Merlin was there a slew of them, had been beautiful in a way that you just...weren't. You’d never have a thin nose or mile long legs. And so you dropped the torch you carried for him, let the flame die out until all that was left were low simmering, angry, embers. Because fuck Sirius Black for not wanting you.
Even now, you wonder if he really does.
Want you.
Yes, the two of you had shown each other your bleeding hearts, had let each other see the dark, odd, ugly puzzle pieces that didn't quite fit into the persona’s you publicly displayed...but you wonder all the time if it wasn't just...trauma bonding.
Clinging to the only available warmth during a blizzard, trying to find someone to weather the storm with.
Without this war, without the two of you being forced together by the horrible things that were being done, that you were doing, would there even be anything there? The two of you weren't James and Lily, weren't destined to be together, to get married and live happily ever after. Your love, if that's what it was at all, wouldn't survive the war like theirs would.
“Your going to hurt yourself” Sirius’ words are muffled as he speaks them into your sweater.
“Huh?”
“You’re thinking too hard. I can practically hear the muscles straining in your brain Y/L/N” You tug on his locks at his statement, lightly enough to not cause pain- even though you knew now that he liked that.
“It’s nothing” you insist.
The last 24 hours has been hard enough, you aren’t about to fuck them up further by questioning feelings, stirring up the inevitable end of this...thing.
“”It’s something” he’s an insistent pushy tosser.
“I’m just wondering why you came back tonight, is all” you try to keep a casual cadence to your tone, but still.
Sirius props his chin on your chest. The room is dark enough that you can’t see him, but you can feel him studying you “When I heard about what happened and then found out that it was you and James that’d been there...I knew I had to find a way to get here. The two of you-“
There’s a long gap of silence. You wonder if he can hear your heartbeat hummingbird fast in your chest as you wait for him to continue.
“- Are my best friends. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost one of you. And then I hear that I almost lost both of you at the same time? It was fucked. I don’t know what I would’ve done if...I’d things would’ve gone differently”
You know this is hard for him.
Sirius is just about the most emotional person you’ve ever met- he feels everything so intensely, it’s alarming really. And yet he can’t ever voice those feelings in a way that’s not screaming or drunken declarations.
His parents had really done a number on him.
“We’re friends?” Your question might sound stupid, but really, you were curious. You never thought he wanted you as a friend.
“Blimey, Y/N, are you serious?” He sits up even further, voice laced with disbelief as he rests his elbows on either side of your head, his face hovering above yours now.
“I’m just asking! I never knew, and you’ve never said. Don’t be a dickhead about it” Is your barbed reply.
He lets out a barking laugh and you can’t tell if he’s annoyed or amused. Probably some mixture of the two.
“I told you about my father breaking my fingers when I refused to learn the piano” He sounds...guarded. You hate it, that you caused that. His guard to go back up. You should’ve kept your big mouth shut. Your right hand planes up and across his biceps. Resting on his shoulder.
“I know. I’m sorry”
“Don’t be sorry, just know that I would never tell that to someone that I didn’t consider a friend. That I didn’t care about”
See? Emotional. So emotional. It’s like it bubbles up within him, always threatening to overflow. You could never guess when the next outburst would be.
“Well that’s good, I guess I consider you a friend too. I never did before, when we were kids, but now I don’t know what I would do...without your friendship”
Friendship is a deceitful word, a mask of something else that was far too big for either of you to attempt to tackle.
“I don’t know what I’d do without your friendship either. I never want to find out. I really did lose it a bit when I heard about what you did. Ask Marlene. She said I was overreacting”
This is a confession- it’s I love you without the strings. It’s I need you without the commitment.
It’s not fair, to either of you and it’s messy and doomed.
But it’s beautiful, all the same.
“I bet you were” you give a watery chuckle, and he presses his forehead to yours, nudging your nose with his.
“Maybe just a bit, but if we would’ve lost you tonight, I would’ve-“ he breathes deep through his nose “I don’t know what I would’ve done. Hunted them all down, probably”
It’s hot, no, physically hot. You’re burning up, his words striking a match and lighting an inferno inside of you that’d laid dormant for years.
“You can’t leave me anytime soon, got it Y/L/N?” His mouth is less than an inch away from yours, his words feel feathery against your parted lips.
“Mmhmm, I’ve got it” you're breathless already, on the verge of whining and Sirius is just a man, only human. How is that not supposed to drive him mad
“Good” he grunts out fast, before slamming his mouth to yours. He’s not slow like he’d like to be, like he knows you deserve. His kisses are hungry and wet and consuming and you just part those pretty lips and whimper into his mouth, begging him to keep going. To keep taking, so he does. Bracketing his hands on either side of your face, using it as leverage to fuck his tongue in and out of your mouth as his skin hips slot between your fatty thighs.
You pant into each other's mouths as tongues explore the places behind teeth, and Sirius hips find a rhythm that matches his tongue.
“Fuck” you pull away with a gasp and Sirius just drags his spit wet mouth down, across your chin, down your neck. When he sucks an earlobe between his teeth you mewl, legs coming up, your feet propped against the back of his thighs as you pull him closer, nestling him even deeper into the center of your thighs.
He very much likes being between your legs, as he’s told you that very fact before.
It’s warm and you’re plush and soft all over, his fingers dig into the meat of your thighs, hips, belly as yours muse his hair, slipping the elastic out so that the tendrils fall freely, long enough now to curtain the two of you, brushing against your cheekbones.
It’s needier than it’s ever been, and when Sirius tugs off your sweater impatiently he literally groans as his hands map out your bare skin touching all the places that usually make you flinch. Rolls and stretch marks- it’s like he needs to feel everything. When he cups your large breasts, one in each palm you full body shiver. He paws at them, thumbing your nipples until they pebble under his touch, before his mouth takes over.
His tongue swirls around the hard buds sloppily. Too much spit, less teeth that usually are biting and sharp. He’s suckling, all over, marking you up, taking his time.
“Sirius, please” your whines are high in your throat and almost pitiful as you fist his hair. He hushes you gently, suckling turning to open mouthed kisses, before he pulls away, stripping his shirt off, in one elegant sweep.
His torso, long and lean- yet toned and sturdy is on display then and honestly you kind of want to turn the lights back on just to look at him for a while.
Usually, Sirius loves to tease. To draw things out at an almost painful pace. It’s maddening. But not tonight.
No, he’s helping you peel your leggings off your curvy calves, then stripping himself of his boxers quickly.
Things are different- somethings shifted. Everything feels all consuming, passionate, both of you are gulping for air as you rut against each other, rubbing and writing. Trying to press as much bare skin together as possible.
He presses two fingers inside of your wet cunt as he rubs his scruff against the sensitive skin of your neck and you keen, high and loud.
Instead of shushing you, he reaches blindly and clumsily for his wand. “Muffilato”
He really is a great multitasker- he manages to cast the silencing charm as he crooks his fingers inside of you, padding at your g spot and making you wail brokenly.
“That’s it, pretty. You can be as loud as you want, go on love” he coos in your ear and holy shit sex with Sirius has been good since it’s inception- but this is something else.
Maybe it’s because of what you’d experienced earlier- all of those negative emotions being combated by all of these good ones but fuck. It felt so good.
He fucks you with his fingers, two and then three and you’re sobbing even before he kisses down your body. Lips scorching and brandishing. When his hot wet tongue slithers between your lips, zeroing in on your clit you’re done for.
It’s embarrassing how little time it takes for your body to tense up, for you to clench around his pounding digits.
“S-s-shit- oh fuck! Sirius!” You grapple at his shoulders, yank at his hair as you convulse, lost to the orgasm that rips through your chest like a bullet.
He works you through it. With little licks, and then soothing words as he pulls his fingers out of you. Your legs fall even farther open and you feel like a well wrung out dish towel.
He’s still being so sweet, as he situates you both on your sides, spooning you from behind. He nuzzles at your still wet curls and really, you’re almost asleep at this point- but not so out of it that you’re unaware of him hard against your lower back.
“Sirius” you mumble, reaching behind you, your short chubby fingers wrapping around his cock. It’s so perfect in your hand- skin hot. Rock hard and velvet smooth.
He groans low at the contact, stills your hand with his “No, it’s okay. I just wanted to take care of you”
You frown at that, whining- and not a happy one “But I want you inside of me”
“You’re barely coherent right now- you’re gonna’ fall asleep any second” he counters back, although you can hear there’s little fight in his strained voice.
“So fuck me while I’m asleep. I want you. We can do it just like this, gonna feel so good” you’re exhausted, but you’ve never wanted anything more. You rub your ass against him, you can feel the tip at the top of your crack and he’s breathing raggedly into your hair.
“Fuck woman. You’re insane” It’s a laugh, or maybe a moan as he grabs the back of your knee, raising it, giving him access to the wet hot flesh between your thighs. He hisses as he guides himself inside of you, and you both sigh when he bottoms out.
Hells, this angle is so good. You get to be completely lazy, just laying there like a doll and taking it as he holds you close and pumps his hips.
The room is filled with wet slapping and breathless panting.
There’s no way you can come again so soon, you’d never been one of those multiple orgasm kind of girls- Sirius gives a strong thrust, the tip of his cock brushing your cervix and sending shockwaves down your tailbone.
Your nails dig into his forearm as you gasp. You’re totally going to come again. Everything is hypersensitive, molten fire, pleasure so bright it’s almost pain as you hold onto him.
“God- you feel so bloody amazing” Sirius’ mouth is right at your ear, you can hear how close he is, that stutter in his breathing “I’m not gonna last- I can’t- fuck. It’s too good”
“Come inside me. Please. I want- fuck I want you closer. Never want you to stop. Want you like this forever, Please” It’s your own words that tip you over the edge for the second time. Thinking about Sirius being close like this, forever. You want him, balls deep inside of you for the rest of your life. You’d never really had an orgasm that was completely internal, your neglected clit not responsible for the tightening of your walls, for the screech that leaves your throat.
Sirius curses, chokes on a loud moan, and then stills inside you. Grabbing you, holding you still as he buries himself to the hilt and empties himself in hot spirits into your womb.
He feels shaky and uncoordinated as he tries to regather himself. Merlins fucking beard- he’d never come that hard. Ever. He swears he’s still feeling the shock waves minutes later when he’s finally able to move.
He breathes in through his teeth and you let out a squeaky mewl as he pulls out.
“Sorry, I’m sorry” he kisses your shoulder soothingly.
Never want you to stop
The words that you’d spoke in the throws of your pleasure ring in his head as he manages to locate that towel you’d used earlier and clean both of you off. It’s half assed and you’d both certainly need to shower before you but back on clothes but at least he’d tried.
“You still awake?” He whispers to you because you’ve gone so still, your body loose and your breathing even.
You make a noncommittal sound, half of an ‘mmhmm’ and he chuckles, managing to get the blanket up and around the both of you before curling himself back around your body.
He’ll let you have the only pillow, that’s fine. You’re so plush and soft anyway. One big pillow, really. More comfortable than the expensive peacock feathers his mom used to fawn over when he was little.
You’re out like a light, and yet Sirius’ mind is going a mile a minute.
I want you closer
You’d almost died, less then twelve hours ago. James has told him how close it had been for both of you. How narrowly you’d escaped death's grasp.
Sirius presses his face onto your back, off centered from the nape of your neck. You smell like your shampoo here- blackberries and sweet lavender.
He had ran, lungs heaving and paws aching through the woods around the McKinnon Cabin. Desperation fueling him. He’d been so scared. The moment he’d been out of sight, he’d appirated to this safe house. He’d only been here once and could barely conjure the image in his head, but he’d still done it.
He could’ve gotten caught, he could’ve been splinched.
Even now, he doesn’t care.
He can pretend that it was out of concern for his best friend, and yeah a big part of it was. James was his brother. The only family he had left and seeing him to make sure he was safe and okay was important to Sirius…
But in the dark, with his arms wrapped around you and the smell of you all over him, he can admit that he’d snapped in a way that he never had before. When he’d heard that you’d been the one to lift your wand and fight, that Voldemort had thrown curses directly at you…
He was terrified.
Not much scared him these days- and that was the sad truth. He was brave to the point of recklessness, he’d always prided himself on that fact.
But the idea of losing you? That he was scared of.
Want you like this forever.
Please.
Another thing that Sirius Black was scared of? The fact that he wanted you forever, too. He wasn’t made for love, not the kind that he knew you wanted. Not the kind that he watched his friends partake in.
He’d let you down eventually, he knew it, and with as smart as you were, he knew you knew it too.
But not tonight.
Tonight he’d hold you, breathe you in, and pretend that there wasn’t a war waging in the world outside.
————
Many years later, while he lay on the dirty stone floor of his Azkaban cell- he stares wordlessly at the ceiling and remembers how you smelled of lavender and blackberries. How you’d giggled like sunshine and fought like hell.
And he remembers, most, how much he loved you.
Alright guys! Thank you for taking the time to read this massive one shot! I hope you enjoyed it. As always I ask that you comment, and reblog if its possible. Love you all!
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@peacefulwriter88 @jalapenobarnes @jaamesbbarnes @gifsbysimplysonia @brieannakeogh @allaboardthereadingrailroad @all-about-sirius @spidey-babe-parker @propertyofpoeandbucky @hufflepuff-always-and-forever @autirobo @louisianaspell @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @hufflepuffing-all-day-long @threeminutesoflife @writeturnlove @benbarnesescape
Well, that was painful lol. I’ve been feeling really angsty with everything that’s been going on in the world- so I decided to lean into it. I will be writing some fluff pieces soon too, to cope with this quarantining, so keep an eye out.
Okay so we all have the time I thought I’d write a kind of long author's note down here. Harry Potter is my all time favorite Fandom(and fun fact, was the first fandom I ever wrote for) and I definitely don’t give it the love it deserves here on my page.
Sirius Black *chefs kiss while sobbing* That man taught me how to love. He was my first true male character love.
My Fan-Casting has always been a little different then everyone else’s, but lately I’ve really tightened up my dream cast and I love it so much so I thought I’d share(obvs, please feel free to imagine whoever you want in these roles):
Sirius Black: Okay this is probably the only casting I have that is like OG dawn of time Sirius fan cast. BEN BARNES IS SIRIUS BLACK. He always will be to me and nothing will ever change my mind. I imagine Ben with like some Harry Styles mannerisms when I write my Sirius.
James Potter: Chance Perdomo. James Potter was brown and that is that. Chance won me over as Ambrose in Sabrina. He’s so cheeky and thoughtful and arrogant and perfect.
Lily Evans(Potter): Sophie Skelton! This is actually a pretty popular cast for her which makes me so happy because Sophie is so perfect for Lily. I could never get behind the Karen Gillian wave. Sorry.
Remus Lupin: Daniel Sharman- I recently came across a post with Daniel as a young Remus and omg my life is changed for the better!
Peter Pettigrew: Okay so I feel like Peter is so hard to cast- but when I think of Rowling’s book desript of him I always come back to one actor. Jonah Hill. I feel like he would tear this part uppppp. Also he’s plus sized unlike all the other actors I always see people fc him with.
Marlene McKinnon: Okay so idk where this came from but I’ve always seen Marlene as Latina? Like always. Her fc has jumped around for me but has recently landed, hard, on Ana De Armas
Dorcas Meadows: Ashley Blaine Fearherson!!! Dorcas is cannonly black which I fucking love because she was so bad ass that Voldemort’s bitch ass had to go take her out himself. A queen. She’s always been a fave of mine
Alice Longbottom: Florence Pugh! She didn’t make much of an appearance in this particular one shot but I love her!
Frank Longbottom: So I know Nevilles like really white in the movies, but I’ve never been able to get over Diego Luna as Frank. Sweet sunshine man.
#Sirius Black#sirius black x plus size reader#sirius black x reader#harry potter#ben barnes#ben barnes x plus size reader#Sirius black x plus sized reader#billy russo#billy russo x plus sized reader#Jilly#james and lily#james potter#lily evans#marauders#wolfstar
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Sugar Cane Nymph (G.D.)
Sugar cane nymph (G.D.)
disclaimer-> i’m colombian so english is obviously NOT my first language. i’m fluent and generally have non-terrible grammar but I usually just write academic stuff in english. i have only ever written fiction in my mother language before this so please bare with me while i get used to this.
this took a while to write omg it wasn’t supposed to be this long, anyways enjoy and PLEASE PRETTY PLEASE let me know what you guys think about it?💓💓🎊🎊
TELL ME IF YOU WOULD LIKE A PART TWO
summary: Grayson meets his mom’s new neighbor after an unexpected for legged visitor ivades Lisa’s Garden.
word count: +5k
warnings: some minor swearing, a whole buch of flustered grayson and hopefully a bit of humor? also i did not proof-read this sorry
Poor Grayson. For the millionth time that night something was disturbing his peaceful sleep. First the frogs and now his mom chooses this moment to do laundry.He thought half asleep. His hazy mind couldn’t for the life of him imagine any other reason for the incessant rumbling that was currently penetrating the walls of his tiny bedroom. He was mad. All of that crunching and crashing outside had taking him out of his amazing dream.
Oh, and was it an amazing one. So beautiful, just like her. He didn’t even know her name yet her image had managed to plague his every waking moment and now it seemed his slumber too. Not that he minded though, his dream had brought them closer.
He needed his sleep because he needed to wake up early, otherwise he would miss it, miss her. He had discovered her on his first morning run ever since coming back home. He always thought that Jersey had the prettiest countryside in all of North America and now he was sure of it. How could it not be with such a gorgeous nymph galoping around bareback on top her trusty steed. She was out there every morning at exactly 5:50 a.m.
Dammit. When had he became such a sap? Grayson knew he was attractive and he definitely knew how to use it. He had never encountered trouble wooing the ladies before. But this one, oh this one was different. There was something about her, he didn’t even knew her name but he just felt a certain way when he was around her. Well, more like spying behind a particularly dense bush that surrounded the little clearing where she ended her ride every morning. And that he had found on pure coincidence . If you could count trying to conspicuously keep up with a galloping horse for a quarter of mile as coincidence, that is. In his defense he just couldn’t let her get away, it was like she was pulling him without even knowing.
Each morning she would ride up there and he would be waiting behind the bush to watch the show. He could hear it’s powerful hoves before he could devise the big black stallion. Even her horse was different. It had a beautiful shinny black coat that the women at his mom’s beauty salon would envy. It’s mane and tale cascaded down his body in actual curls. Just like hers. He had never seen a horse that didn’t have straight hair.
It was sort of funny, one of the first things he noticed about the mysterious girl was her long and lucious curly hair. And she looked so in sync with the beast. With the dark curls and big brown eyes they almost looked like family.
She was short thing, as he noticed when he saw her stading next to the horse for the first time. He reckoned she would reach to his chest or his shoulders, at best. Her thick thighs hugged the animal’s torso right before she jumped off its back, squatting on her landing which made her delectable ass stretch her jeans. It all looked pretty profesional and innocent, still, he couldn’t help but imagine those beautiful legs wrapping around his waist while his big hads supported that delicious bottom.
Was he seriously getting exited at a half asleep memory or was it just morning wood?
He ignored that thought and kept his eyes closed, continuing with his hazy recollection.
Their conection was amazing, it was just her and her beast. She didn’t use a saddle or tack. She simply spoke to it, like one would another human being, and then she would scratch it’s neck. After that the thousand poud animal did everything she asked. It reared and bowed at her comand and, sometimes, she would let her hair down and they would spin and jump around almost like they were dancing.
No matter how many times he hid behind that bush to watch them, Grayson was in awe at every single thing she did. To him, she was completely mesmerizing.
So mesmerizing, in fact, that he could never bring himself to step out from behind his reliable bush to say hi. She seemed nice enough, surely she wouldn’t think he was some sort of creepy stalker, right? Except, at this point, he kind of was. But his little nymph didn’t need to know that.
Giving up on sleep he decided that if his mom felt the need to do the laundry two days in a row he better find a way of his own of being productive. But upon opening his eyes he was surprised to be greeted by darkness and those stupid frogs chirping outside. He tapped around until his long fingers got a grasp on his cellphone and squinted when the damned thing nearly blinded him with it’s brightness.
Then suddenly the laundry room was shaking again.
“The fuck” he groaned sleepily.
When his eyes finally adjusted to the light emanating from the screen of his Iphone he let out another groan, silently cursing the digital clock that read 4:25 a.m.. His alarm would be ringing in less than an hour for his morning run and he was super tired because some frogs had decided to serenade him until one in the morning. How come they aren’t sleeping yet?
Then there was that rumbling again. But when he realized that his mechanical roommate would be empty of dirty clothes at such unholy hour he began to worry. It’s not like the house was near the street, whatever or whoever was causing all that ruckus had to be in the property. He crept out of his room barefoot trying to be conspicuous and stealthy, even though the cold floor was torturing his toes.
He reached the front door after a quick stop at the kitchen to grab his mother’s big trusty iron frying pan in case he needed to attack. He made a mentan note to not leave everything that could be a potential weapon inside his building shed next time.
After taking a fortifying breath he grabbed the doorknob and turned it as delicately and silently as man his size could manage.
At first glance nothing on the porch seemed out of the ordinary, but when he turned the lights on he noticed it. An overturned plantpot which used to contain an colorful flower that, according to his mom, was an exotic plant that her friend had brought her from her vacation in the caribbean. His mom couldn’t stop talking about her colorful little flower when they showed her her new garden and how she was going to give it a special place in it. And now some rascal had savagely munched on it leaving only the dying stems amongst the dirt.
Suddenly the early morning was eerily silent again. Grayson tried to slow his breathing while straining to hear anything tha would give away the position of the invader. His heart was just about to beat out of his chest, the house was in the middle of nowhere, anything could be out there.
When he finally heard something he couldn’t believe his ears. High pitched and clearly irritated he barely recognized it.
Was that a neigh?
He followed the sound and finally got his answer upon glancing at Lisa’s Garden. The animal that appeared tu be stuck near one of the flower beds looked like a horse, kind of. It had a mane, a tail, four hooves, pointy ears and it was distinctly neighing, everythig pointed that it was a horse. Except for the fact that it couldn’t be any taller than three feet. It seemed he was in presence of a miniature horse.
Quickly running to his building shed he grabbed his diagonal pliers to cut the wire that had most likely trapped his hoof. But when he came back to help the little guy found him with his head deep into the nearest flower pot casually having a 5 a.m. flowery snack.
“Hey! Stop that!” he yelled trying to separate the little beast from it’s colorful victim. “YOU LITTLE FUCKER” Grayson yelled when the animal actually bit him for trying to take away his meal. Weren’t horses suposed to be vegetarian? Well if it liked flowers so much who’s to say it didn’t have other bizarre tastes... like fucking human flesh.
Waking up from all the noise Lisa walked outside to see her 6ft tall 200lb son wrestling a mini horse for a pot of half munched flowers. And she knew their equine visitor very well.
Grayson looked up from his struggle to see his mom walking out of the house with her phone in hand. He looked at her pleadingly and she just chuckled.
“Don’t worry sweetie I called his owners, Emperor’s mom is coming to pick him up as we speak” She told him.
“Wait you actually know where he came from?!” He let go of the animal and marched up to the woman comfortably clad in whool robe and warm slippers while he was out there shirtless and barefoot, hair stuck in every direction, trying to defend their home.
And of course in that moment his beloved brother decided to join in the fun from his bedroom window. Ethan let put a loud snort at his twin’s dishiveled appearance.
“Dude, what happened to you?” he asked in between laughs.
“Shut the fuck up E!” Grayson yelled looking up to his brother. “It could’ve been a murderer or some shit” At that Lisa couldn’t contain herself anymore and let put a loud laugh. She walked towards him with his coat in her hands that she had retrieved while the boys bantered.
“Oh realx sweetie! I don’t think you can die from cuteness overload” She paused while Grayson snatched his coat and glanced at the small black horse. to speak to it in a baby voice. “Ain’t that right Emperor?”
He put on his coat over his otherwise naked torso and and ran his hands through his unruly hair, exasperated. His mom speaking to the little monster briefly reminded him of his beautiful nymph and how her horse actually seemeyto listen, unlike this urchin that had breakfast on his mom’s flowers. He sneered at the animal before speaking.
“So you know the owners, ma?”
“Yeah, they’re sugarcane farmers. Our neighbors up north.”
“Up north? That’s dairy farm?” Grayson replied maliciously. Of course it would be dairy people that would own this mini horse devil. It just made sense.
Lisa just chuckled again at the grave look on Grayson’s face. Ethan just observed carefully from above how Emperor finished a pot of tiny purple flowers and was stretching his little neck trying to reach the next one containing daisies. Or at least he thought that’s what those were, either way it was simply hilarious.
“That’s north of the road, Gray. I’m talking about north of the property, they grow sugarcane organically. ” She explained exitedly.
“Oh... well whoever they are they better come get their poor animal soon.”
“They are already on the way, I just sent Denisse a text” She replied sternly, her sons could be the biggest men-child sometimes. “And even though they’re not vegan, I can assure you they take real good care of their animals.” Since Grayson didn’t seem all that convinced she continued, “Especially their horses, Denisse’s daughter has wall full of horsemanship thophies and first place ribbons, that girl spends hours everyday tending them.”
“Well apparently not enough” He grumbled brooding. “This one is clearly not that educated”
“Oh, Emperor is just a bit... energetic”
Oh hell no. She was actually gonna deffend it.
“ENERGETIC?!” He snapped. “ He ate your exotic flower and destroyed the garden! He’s a monster in a small package!”
“Gray it’s okay. And you’re exaggerating he didn’t destroy anything he just turned a few flower pots.”
“What about you exotic kayacka or whatever it’s called!” He kept on yelling. “HE ANNIHILATE IT”
Grayson was seething at this point. He loved animals and nature, he had gone vegan for God’s sake. But this was just too much, nature had basically trampled him in the last 12 hours. First the god forsaken frogs screaming their slimy little lungs out kept him up half of the night and now this!
This annoying piece of horse flesh had not only awoken him at the fucking asscrack of down, but it had also destroyed the garden he had busted his back to buid for Ma, who was currently laughing at his missery. And as if that wasn’t enough he was more than likely going to miss his secret appointment with his beautiful nymph.
“It’s called a cayena and he didn’t do it intentionally , Gosh, calm down” She pinned him with a stare “And it’s not that big of a deal, there’s more where that one came from I’m sure Denisse wouldn’t mind. Plus her daughter will more than likely begg to help picking up this mess, like I said she always looks out for the horses” She pursed her lips starting to get a annoyed at his irrational fury. “As mother would, she’s always picking up her childs messes”
“Well if she is such a great horse mom, how come her child is a freakin flower eating tornado” Grayson replied grudgingly, feeling like a scolded child for something he didn’t even do. Was he seriously talking about this horse like it was a person?
In the middle of his ire he looked down. Now that the sun was starting to illuminate the early morning he could see it had a kinda nice chesnut color and his beady ayes were staring eagerly at the daisies, that were just a few centimeters out of reach. If it hadn’t been such a nightmare Grayson could almost see himself looking for his allergy pill after petting the cute tiny thing. But it had messed with his garden and managed to get stuck, now he was going to have to ruin the chicken wire to cut him free. So no, Emeperos wasn’t all that cute anymore and after looking at the redish bite mark on his hand he definitely didn’t want to pet it. Lisa’s voice interrupted his musings.
“Listes, go put on you shoes, get yourself some breakfast and try to calm down. Denisse’s daughter shouldn’t be more than a few minutes away, I’ll look after him in the meantime”
“Oh no no, I’m gonna have a word with this chit and she’s gonna fix this immediately.”
Lisa was about to stop Grayson’s angry rambling until she spotted a rider and horse closing in on the house from the north trail.
“I mean, who the hell does she think she is? Letting her animals trample around and how long tilll-“
“Oh my Gosh! I’m so sorry Mrs Dolan I can’t believe he’s done this again.” A female voice rung melodically behind him accompanied by the resounding thudding of heavy hooves on grass. “Emperooor” the voice groaned “ what was it this time?”
Grayson knew that voice, and even if he had never heard her giving soft commands to her intimidating black stallion he would have recognized the feeling she stirred in him. That fluttering on the left side of his chest, the earthquake of butterflies in his stomach, that familiar sense of calmness that only her could bring him.
Lisa´s voice brought him back from his momentary day dream.
“Well son it looks like your wish came true” she said so only he could hear and the raised her voice to greet the girl rapidly approaching them on horseback. “(Y/N) , sweetie, hello!”
Grayson turned around utterly speechless. Astounded by her beauty and awed by the mere sight of her as she dismounted gracefully from the familiar black stud, who was actually saddled this time.
She stepped away from the huge beast and walked towards where they were standing near the garden. With every step closer that she took Grayson felt his lungs closing up on him. What was I supposed to say to her, again? The mini horse, right.
“I’m so sorry Mrs. Dolan. I don't know what to do with him anymore, ever since we moved up here he seems to find new ways to scape stalls and squeeze to fences daily” (Y/N) kept babbling out her sincere apologies while she come to hug the older woman whose garden had been vandalized by her favorite Shetland.
“(Y/N) I’ve told you a hundred times it’s Lisa, and don't worry about it I understand you mother is always telling me how hard you try to keep Emperor in check” She replied glaring slightly at Grayson whose jaw had fallen slightly ajar, she elbowed him discreetly bringing him back from whatever dreamland he was in. “Can't speak for the big man here though, he was a little distressed earlier”
As if he wasn't having a hard enough time (Y/N) shiny browns eyes peered up at him shyly stilling his lungs once again, and a lovely blush spread on her chubby cheeks. He followed the rosy trail with his eyes to the top of her round breasts wondering how far down her body would it reach. And when she spoke softly to him, he was a goner.
“Oh... I’m so sorry, I promise I will fix it up right away” When he didn't reply she added “I'm not as great as Lisa but I’m a pretty decent gardener, I swear its gonna look brand new” Gosh, this was embarrassing. He was so handsome and she has just let her mini-horse ruin his mother's garden.
Lisa’s elbow once again spooked him out of his catatonic state.
“Oh don’t be modest, I bet it’s gonna look better than before. Right, Gray?” Seeing the look in his eyes, she quickly decided that (Y/N) would have a little help fixing her plants. “Sweetie, I know you've made good friends with Cameron but I don't think you've met my sons before”
“No ma’am, I don't think I've had the pleasure” (Y/L) replied in a low voice very unlike herself.
“Okay this is Grayson and that nosy one with his head stuck out the window is his twin brother Ethan” (Y/N) glanced in the direction Lisa was pointing and sure enough there was buzz cut head sticking out the second floor window with a smirk plastered all over his angular face, ready to yell a greeting to his brother’s dream girls. Gray had described her so many times with so much detail that it was scary but it also allowed him to tell right away when he saw the curly haired girl atop the black horse.
“Why good morning Miss Horsey Neighbor (Y/L) it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance” Ethan yelled with a flirty smirk that he knew was sure to infuriate his twin.
“The pleasure is all mine, good sir” (Y/N) replied with a laugh, following along on his joke. Ethan seemed like a funny guy, she could see them becoming friends. The other brother though, they had the same sharp jawline and handsome features, but Grayson’s intense stare was definitely something else. She felt intimidated yet...exited?
Grayson stuck his hand out dumbly trying to get her attention back from his brother.
“I’m distressed and it’s okay, I wasn't Grayson” he vomited his words while trying to produce a smile that ended up looking like a grimace. (Y/L) offered him a blushy smile back none the less.
“It's a pleasure Distressed”
“Huh? Oh, fuck!” Nice job champ let her think you're fucking retarded “ it’s Grayson! I’m Grayson and was not distressed. I was just um...” He trailed off looking to his mom for help bur she merely shrugged “I was uh... worried! For the mini! Poor little guy just wanted a snack and ended up stuck in the chicken wire.”
He stuttered and stumbled trough his explanation but (Y/N), who was usually very perceptive, was still so embarrassed and flustered that she didn't notice he was lying.
“Okay. So, he shouldn’tbe snacking on flowers, anyways, he knows that” (Y/N) mumbled walking towards Emperor who had stopped struggling towards the white daisies and was now waiting for attention from his favorite human. “Alrighty pal, what did you get yourself into” She kneeled on the ground and started inspecting Emperor’s little hoof stuck on the wire. She tried to pull it out but it was too tight, the wire had tu be cut.
Meanwhile Grayson stared amazed at how the little horse devil had turned into horse putty in (Y/N)’s hands. His ears pointed towards and he rubbed his furry neck on her arm looking for scratches. No sign of the Shetland that had rudely attacked him earlier. He looked down at his hand and noticed that the bite mark was barely visible now, maybe Emperor wasn't that bad after all. Maybe.
“It’s too tight if we don't cut the wire he could hurt himself” (Y/N) announced looking up towards Lisa but the taught about it and directed her glance towards her son, who already had a cutting plier in his hand. “Do you think I can borrow that?”
“Yeah, sure, here you go” He was about to hand her the tool when Lisa widened her eyes at him at pointed her chin to the girl crouched con her garden. “Actually, let me do it” He corrected, kneeling down right next to her so that his strong shoulder thighs brushed against her blue jeans. He heard vaguely a big impatient snort behind but paid no mind to de large stallion that stood where (Y/N) had tied his reigns to the garden fence. The thing was so big it could probably pull the fence right off the soil, but instead stood patiently waiting for his master.
“I live in farm y’know I think I can manage a pair of pliers” She replied slightly annoyed that he wouldn't hand her the damned thing.
“Oh, don’t mind him honey he just loves playing with his tools” Lisa pitched in from above them. Grayson prayed nobody noticed his flushed face, but his nymph was deliciously close to him for the first time. Never before he had had the chance of perceiving her intoxicating scent, it was sweet almost like melted sugar right before it turns into caramel.
“I don’t play, ma! I build stuff” He looked up at his mother with a look half annoyed/half pleading. “Besides, I’m sure you're more than capable of cutting some measly chicken wire, I just thought you could keep him calm so that-”
“Oh my God! You're totally right.”
“I am?”
“OF COURSE, he could run around as soon as he's free and continue to dismantle this poor place. Good thinking, Grayson”
Was that even his name she just pronounce? He didn't remember ever sounding so good.
“Yup, yeah. That's it” Yeah I totally wasn't trying to show off for you, nymph.
(Y/N) resumed scratching Emperor with one hand while the other pushed on his neck to give Grayson as much room to cut the wire as possible. Since the kids seemed to be getting along quite nicely Lisa decided to make herself scarce.
“Well guys I’m gonna get inside and make some breakfast” She received two distracted hums and with that she left, not without throwing a pointed glance up at Ethan who immediately stuck his head back inside.
A few minutes later Emperor was a free and happy Shetland. Since he had already eaten, clearly, she decided she could get a head start on the mess the mini had made before riding back home for breakfast. She attached a lead-rope she had brought to the his halter, that he was miraculously still wearing, and tied him to the fence. Grayson just watched her, still kneeling by the dirt bed, she moved so naturally between the mess.
“I’m so sorry, really. For the life of me I have no idea how he came to eat flowers on the first place, I will bring over some seeds later but I’m gonna start cleaning this now, do you have some gardening tools I can borrow?” She was a little breathless after spurting out all of that, she was so nervous now that they were alone.
He got up and dusted his sweatpants.
“Sure, they are in my building shed” He replied puffing out his already beefy chest, his building shed was his pride and joy. “Just let me grab my boots real quick”
“Oh that’s okay I ca-” but he was already running inside.
A few minutes later after running a hand through his hair numerous times to tame his bedhead in front of the living room mirror, they were walking a bit closer than necessary to the shed.
“So, you like building a lot?” At that Grayson put on full display his million dollar smile.
“You could say that” He said looking around the shed for the gardening toolbox.”I build my mom that garden, I mean me and my brother did it but he was more like an.. assistant” Grayson could have swooned when he heard her laughter but instead focused on grabbing the box from the top shelf.
“Are you kidding? I could have sworn that was made by a professional?” She replied, seemingly impressed while they walked back.
“Why thank you, n- (Y/N)” He put the box down next to the first overturned plant pot “I appreciate that” Oh he appreciated it, alright.
“You know, you don't need, it was my horse after all” she sat criss- cross and started rummaging trough the box.
This was it, Grayson needed to pull his shit together if he wanted to make a good first impression on this gorgeous nymph that was eagerly staring up at him, waiting for an answer that his dumbass was unable to produce. With his shaking hands conveniently hidden inside his pockets, he stared confidently into her deep brown eyes and pulled his most charming smile.
And then they got to work. All coquettish smiles, blushing faces and casual hand brushings. They talked about building, horses, video games and even the process of cultivating high quality sugar cane without using pesticides. Grayson was over the moon being the sole focus of her attention, he had waited so long for this. He watched as she pulled away from her face the rebel curls that scaped from her ponytail wishing he could run his hands through the luscious strands and wondering if her round cheeks would be as soft as they looked if he were to touch them with his rough fingertips. He was so immersed in her that didn't realize that their work was done when they picked up the last of Emperors victims, the cayenne on the porch.
Standing on the recently clean porch steps they took a minute to admire their hard work. Or at least for Grayson they were to admire her.
“Well, this is it, thank you so much for you help Gray, you didn't have to” Did she just called him by his nickname? He had to be dreaming.
“It’s okay” he murmured observing how she had to crane her neck up to look at him, she was such a shorty yet when she spoke she appeared larger than life. She was simply amazing. “Time flies when you're having fun” He replied while they started walking towards the horses that were snorting impatiently.
“It was kinda fun, wasn't it?” she untied the big black horse and with one hand she held Emperor’s lead rope while the other pulled on the saddle Horne making for a swift effortless mount. Grayson stood a few steps away looking at the stallion curiously. “You can come closer, Spirit is a perfect gentleman, he likes firm pats like this” He smiled at her demonstration and brought his own much larger right hand to Spirit’s thick neck and let his left one rest cheekily above her knee.
“Spirit” he tested the name on his tongue “Is that his name?” he was looking up at her, for a change, and its was making her breath speed up.
“Well his registered name is actually Indomitable Spirit, my grandma rescued his mom with a poachers arrow on her side” (Y/N) cringed at the memory of the beautiful mare covered in blood “She didn’t have any hoseshoes and her teeth looked like they had never been floated, she was skittish around people... but not as much as the tipycal wild horse. It was like she was scared but she still wanted something from us. Then we realized it was because she was heavily pregnant, it only took us a couple of days to figure out she was close to due date. A month later she gave birth to the most adorable foal with a coat as black as onyx stone” Grayson basked in the glow of her radiant smile remembering how her horse came to this world. And when her face fell, his did too.“It was a difficult labor and she wasn't fully healed yet from her old wounds. The blood loss was fatal, she was too weak to even stand but she pushed through until she was done and the she just closed her eyes and never opened them again. Later on we confirmed she was a mustang so we named him in her honor. You know, most pregnant mares are nightmares, but not her, it was like she knew we would take care of her baby.” She paused at the dreamy look on his face ”Sorry, you probably didn't need the whole pony tale story, I blabber a lot sometimes... a lot of times, actually.”
“No its fine its fine,” he replied hurriedly “I love it, I mean, the story- its quite beautiful,”
“Glad you liked it” She blushed again and Grayson could have pulled her down from the saddle right then and there to cover her cute ass face with kisses, but he contained himself and tried to focus on what she was saying. “Again I’m so sorry about the garden”
“Actually, now I’m looking forward to Emperor’s next great scape if that means i get to hang out with you ” There it was, he had laid out the bait, he could only pray she take it.
“That could very well happen, but I would hate to destroy your garden again” She chuckled nervously
“It would be worth it if I can see you again, soon” The hand on her knee squeezed and his eyes stared hopeful into hers. “Or maybe, we could just grab some vegan ice cream sometime”
“That sounds nice” She started turning her horse around to hide her very obvious blush, but he saw it and it had his heart fluttering and a big cheesy smile appearing on his face.
“Vegan ice-cream it is, then”
#grayson dolan imagine#dolan twins imagine#ethan dolan#grayson dolan#dolan twins#ethan dolan imagine#horselover#miniature horse#shetland pony#mustang#horses#new jersey#contryside
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Little Bird - Mini
Request: wanted to ask you if you could do a Loki x teen!Reader. Where the reader meets Loki in some way and she touches him and connect their souls 'cause she has powers she doesn't know about. And then some day she's in pain or smth and Loki feels it and comes to her. And she finds out she just can connect her soul with someone she trusts. And loki is all sweet ? And angst maby. Please and thank you.
Pairing: Loki Odinson x teen!Reader
Chapter: Mini Story
A/N: Okay so I am not going to do official chapters but I think I will release a few mini stories about their lives together. Not sure how many I will do. I am really loving how adorable Loki is and his interaction with the reader. If you want to be tagged let me know. Hope ya’ll still enjoy it!
Chapter One Chapter Two
“This is so not fair.” You whisper, out of breath.
Loki’s lean figure slightly leans forward, hovering over your own. His breathing is heavy and his hair tries to cling to what is left of his bun. You take in a few deep breaths of your own and ignore the sweat dripping off of your body. The team has been making you physically train. Not with your powers but with punches, kicks, and flips. When they said you would get to train, you initially thought this meant you would get to control these so-called powers you seem to possess. Apparently not!
“Once you can control your own body during a fight, controlling your powers will become easier.” Loki grins. “Besides, I like you on the floor gazing up at me.”
Loki takes pride in his little bedroom comment. Meanwhile you swing your leg around and knock him off his feet. A thud on the mat tells you that he is down and is time to get up. Using the little energy you have left, you push your body up into a standing position. Much like the way Nat or Steve do during a fight that in your opinion is a show-off move. Regardless, one night you asked Nat to teach you. You figured there may be some satisfaction in executing it one day. Funny how the time comes sooner than expected.
Looking down at the god beneath you, you can’t help but allow a well deserved smirk to take residence across your lips. This is the first fight you have won, hopefully it won’t be the last. Taking in Loki’s appearance, you begin to understand what is so appealing about being the one left standing. The dominant person standing.
“Don’t get used to it, little bird.” Loki breathes. “I’ll get my rematch later.”
“STOP!” Tony’s voice booms through the intercom. “I can’t take any more of your sexual banter in the training room. Keep it in the bedroom!”
A faint spread of heat rushes against your cheeks from Tony’s comment. Despite what most would think by looking at you, you are quite a private person about that area of your life. You know Tony is all talk and doesn’t mean anything by it. He doesn’t even know what is going on behind closed doors at the compound. It would be quite shocking for them all to find out.
Tony gets called out for a meeting at Stark Industries and allows you to call it an early day. Thankfully he had to take Wanda and Vision so even they couldn’t make you practice meditating on your powers. Feeling them as a part of yourself and not as a threat, and accepting them. It will allow you to hone your powers and use them. Seems like there is a lot of stuff they are making you do first before actually letting you use your powers. Meanwhile, you’re sure they just went at it themselves without all this mumbo jumbo.
Following Loki back to his bedroom you are lost in thought about how to improve at your training so you can get to the next level. It barely registers that you sit on his bed crisscross as Loki disappears to the closet to change out of his training gear. With the snap of his fingers, you are now out of your own training gear and in your favorite pair of sweats and tank top.
“Time for a rematch.” Loki’s low deeps voice appears behind you.
His arms wrap around your torso and his fingers attack your stomach. You cry out in laughter and pain as you try to pry his hands off of you. As a child your father would constantly tickle you, usually in surprise attacks like this one. Twisting your body in his arms, you manage to face him. Loki’s smug face peers down at you. He thinks he has won. Guess again.
Suddenly his fingers are no longer moving. His arms are slowly unwrapped from your body. Their movement falters for a moment as Loki attempts to fight back, but you quickly regain control. Electricity thrums through your arms as your magic overpowers his. You manage to lift his arms above his hands against his bed railing. With a bit more concentration you will a free length of lace to wrap a nicely tight bow across Loki’s wrists. Now you are the one looking smug.
“You’ve been practicing without me.” Loki is breathless once again. “I have to say, if I wasn’t a bit terrified I would be 100% turned on.”
Leaning your body over his, you look deep into his eyes as you bring your face closer. As your lips meet, every nerve in your body is engulfed in flames. Never in your entire life have you met someone that makes you feel as alive as Loki. Even a simple kiss excites everything inside of you, even your bones. Never have you felt like losing such control but yet feeling as safe as could be. But before either of you could get carried away, you break the kiss and sit at the end of the bed.
“Definitely less terrified.” Loki gleams toward you. “Though we still need to be careful.”
Loki’s reminder saddens you. With a flick of your wrist Loki is released from his lace bondage. He is the one person in the world that you want but yet you cannot fully have him. Tony’s remark earlier left you a little flustered. Only because the two of you haven’t actually had sex yet. Neither one of you is in a big rush, but since you can’t it makes you want it more. Funny how that is always the case?
It was Loki’s idea. Since no one is sure of the full extent of your powers, he thinks it is best to keep emotions from an all-time high. You agreed and still do, most of the time. You often wonder if he is as miserable about it as you are. He doesn’t show it and you do your best to hid it as well. It isn’t always easy to be so close to him, alone, and not get what you want.
Sometimes you think Loki has another motive behind why you two should delay. He said he could be dangerous if he gets carried away. Since he has arrived in your life, outside of watching you sleep, you have been getting to know a lot about his past. He isn’t always eager to share but he does anyway. Some things take longer than others to surface but you know he is going to tell you in his time. You don’t want to rush him, but this particular comment definitely has peaked your interest.
“The first night in my room umm…” your cheeks turn a light pink as you think of the right words. “What did you mean by ‘I can get dangerous if I get carried away’?”
“I was hoping you didn’t remember that.” Loki lets out a shaking laugh. He takes your hands in his and concentrates on them instead of meeting your gaze. “I am not Asgardian like my brother. My birth father is from another realm where he is king of these horrible beasts.”
Loki’s voice begins to waver. He takes a moment to calm himself before continuing. His breathing is uneven still as he recalls all that he has learned about his heritage.
“Basically they are ice monsters. Cold is their pleasure and they have no problem harming anyone to get what they want.” Loki sneaks a glance at you to gage your reaction. “My natural form is a lot.. bluer, colder. I highly suggest you never touch me in this form. Legend says a single touch can turn anyone into frozen stone. I’ve never tried it, and I really do not want to start with you.” Loki sighs and you know he is finally getting to his point. “I am afraid that if we are intimate with one another I may lose control and my glamour will fade, revealing my true form. I worry that it will frighten you, and I worry of what I can do to you.”
You see that what is left of Loki’s calm and collected façade begin to fade. Obviously this isn’t a topic that he talks about often, and you feel honored that he could share it with you. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you sit on his lap and wrap your legs around his torso. As you stroke your fingers through his hair you feel a wet cold tear fall against your bare shoulder. Loki has been in pain a great deal of his life and has mastered the art of silent crying. You hope one day it won’t have to be so silent around you.
“Thank you for sharing with me.” Your voice is low, calming, soothing. “I believe we are what we decide to become, not who we are born. You may be blue and able to freeze things, but you are anything but a monster.”
Loki’s grip around your hips tightens as you speak. Most people in the past, even his brother, has written him off as the bad guy. Until recently did people begin to see the hero and ally that Loki has always wanted to become.
“You’re my hero, Loki.”
Loosening your hold on him, you peer into his tear stricken eyes. Leaning in close, you kiss his cheeks just below the eyes. Kissing away his tears. Revisiting Loki’s gaze, you look for an indication to stop but you find nothing. Again you lean in close and lightly brush your lips against his.
The fiery heat radiates off of your body like before. Though something is different this time. A cool electrifying current passes through, starting at your lips and spreads through your whole body. The feeling excites you as you realize this streak is coming from Loki. He is letting down his walls little by little, staying up enough to keep you safe.
“I’m not going anywhere.” You assure him.
“Neither am I, little bird.” Loki’s cold breath brushes away your heated exterior. Quickly he gazes into your eyes before connecting his lips with yours once more.
Taglist:@drabby-abby @senpaiweird @clairewinchester14
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chapter eight: legacies and left behinds
Joey held the door for Sam and she strolled into the tiny cozy cafe over by the lake waters. She was greeted by that warm aroma of coffee despite it being nearly dinner time, as well as that smell of freshly made food from behind the counter on the right side of the room. Short spindly stools lined the floor beneath that heavy wooden counter top, but Joey led her to the little table on the far side of the room, next to one of the larger of the bay windows in there.
She peered to her right, out the window to the deserted street and the little deep blue sliver of the lake. Joey took off his sunglasses and shook his thick jet black curls about. He showed her a thoughtful look and then he nestled his chin in the palm of his hand.
“What's on your mind right now?” she asked him in a soft voice, even though they were far removed from the other people in there.
“What, me?” he replied.
“Yeah. You look like there's a lot on your mind right now. Like there's something you want to tell me.” She eyed the slender shape of his forearms, and they made her think of the trees that lined the shore outside.
He shook his head.
“Not really, no,” he admitted. “I'm more thinkin' 'bout what I'm gonna have to eat here, to be perfectly honest.” His brown eyes gazed back at her, as soft as the ground out there. If Cliff was a man of many colors, Joey was a boy who hailed from the earth. He ran his long fingers through the ringlets on the side of his head and he showed her a sweet little smile.
“Do you want to take me out to the lake?” she asked him.
“The big lake?” He knitted his eyebrows together.
“Yeah.”
“Absolutely. If you like it here, you'll really like it out by where I grew up at. Hopefully, anyways. 'Swaygo is kind of an industrial coastal type town—the type'a place you'd see in like Rhode Island or Massachusetts, up in New England. It's a little more rustic, though. I'll show ya soon enough.”
Within time the waitress arrived at their table and Joey was eager to ask for a little cup of coffee for the both of them.
“Don't wanna spend too much, y'know,” he told Sam.
“Of course, of course.”
“Here's a little known fact—” Joey raised a finger and lowered his voice. “—the only other person who knows about this is Danny—Spitz, our other guitarist, not Lilker.”
“What's that?”
“I actually taped the very first penny I ever made on my bedroom wall,” he said.
“Taped it?” she chuckled.
“Yeah. Call me a cheap skate, but it meant the world to me to make that single penny. I was proud of it and I wanted to show to my father especially that I could make money making music.”
“By the way, are you and your dad close at all?” Sam tucked a lock of dark hair behind her ear.
“Oh, yeah, but he wishes I could do better, though. A few times he's told me that when he was my age, he already met my mom and they settled up in 'Swaygo.”
“How old are you again?”
“I'm twenty four,” he replied with a nod of his head, “—I'll be twenty five this October.”
“That was it!” she said with a wag of her finger. “You're the older one of the bunch. I couldn't remember if it was you or Scott.”
“Yeah, I'm the big brother,” he chuckled at that and showed her a lopsided grin. “The big brother and the one who's put in the work the most before I joined. Before them, I was in bands all over upstate for about six years. Singing and drumming. Or drumming and singing, I can do both.”
“Have you ever done both at the same time?” she asked as she leaned back in the spindly chair.
“I've thought about it but—” He shook his head. “—nah. It just never came up. I was always either asked to drum or sing, but never both. I always thought that would be a nice li'l challenge for future me, you know?”
“I think it would be nice to draw or maybe paint something while you're playing music,” she suggested, “I kinda did that with Stormtroopers.”
“It's funny, I was actually thinking of that earlier,” he began again as he ran his fingers through his ringlets a second time; small fine little ringlets right over his ear; “like—Sam oughta join us at some point in a studio session and set up an easel on one side of the room, and we can all be each other's muses for a day.”
“I still want to draw you,” she confessed.
“Like—just my face or a full body drawing?” he followed along.
“Full body,” she replied. “Just—out of mere curiosity. And I feel like it can also help me with the masculine anatomy a bit. Sometimes it's hard to understand these things, especially the ones below the belt.”
Joey paused, and then he raised an eyebrow at that.
“I thought you just wanted to draw my face,” he recalled as he bowed his head.
“Well, that was then,” she pointed out. “I've gotten into art school—I think it's time I challenge myself a little bit.”
He nodded his head at that and his eyes darted about the surface of the table.
“Sounds reasonable,” he said in a soft voice.
“Now, please understand I don't want to make you uncomfortable,” she continued as she folded her hands over the table surface. “I don't want to force you to do anything you don't want to do. If it's too much for you, I can just forget it and move on to something else that can prove to be a challenge.”
Joey gazed on at her with his head still bowed and his eyes wide with concern. He swallowed and shifted his weight in his seat.
“We can give it a shot one on one,” she suggested. “You know, so you’re a bit more comfortable with the whole thing. How does that sound?”
“I trust that you don’t share it with anyone,” he said, still in a soft voice.
“Just like this little day trip,” she continued on, “it’ll just be between you and me. It’ll just be our little secret.”
He swallowed again. She gazed into his soft brown eyes and then at the rest of his round oval shaped face. Sam then leaned forward with her arms folded over the top of the table.
“Joey, listen to me,” she started again in a near whisper, “I will put it under lock and key if I have to. Again, I won’t do it if you’re feeling uncomfortable about the whole thing. I promise—“
But she was cut off by the waitress and the cups of coffee for the two of them, and then she followed it up with the little pad of paper from that small apron pocket. As she sipped her coffee, she kept an eye on the placid lake waters outside. She sighed through her nose and then she took in a small whiff of the fresh coffee.
She was home. Upstate New York welcomed her with open arms lined by the fresh smell of the lakes as if she was meeting an old friend. She took in another whiff of the coffee before she took a sip of it. So rich and beany!
Sam returned to Joey, whose expression never changed as he stared out the window for himself. He was silent even when the waitress brought their food in both hands as if she served them with a silver platter. He was careful to eat his sandwich and the accompanying handful of fries next to it on the plate. She frowned and then she stared out the window yet again at the sky as it bled away to a rich royal purple from the setting sun. Sam hadn’t lived in a place that had so many lakes and thus she wanted to experience it while she had the chance.
“When we’re done here, you wanna take a walk around the lake shore?” she suggested.
“Yeah, sure,” he said, still in a low voice.
He offered to cover their as well as leave a tip, and then the two of them made their outside to the incoming nightfall. A cool crisp breeze from the lake sent a shiver down her spine; Joey led her back to the vista point and the car, but he guided her to a narrow walkway behind the railing. Sam slipped her hands into her pockets and gazed up at the darkening sky.
“God, it's such a lovely night,” she declared as they neared the low shores of the lake: the black waters were almost smooth, much to her surprise given the breeze that swept over their heads.
“Yeah, it—it really is,” he said in an absent tone of voice. “It really, truly is.”
“Is everything okay?” she asked him; in the dim light, she noticed Joey shrugging his shoulders. “You’re still not thinking about my request, are you?”
“I am, yeah,” he replied with a bit of a sigh. Sam set a hand on his shoulder.
“Again, Joey,” she persisted, “—I’m taking it off the table if you aren’t comfortable with it.”
“Well, see, that’s the thing about it,” he pointed out.
“What’s that?”
“I kinda do wanna do it,” he confessed.
“Well, what’s this whole silence thing then? It’s so confusing.” She tried to stifle a chuckle.
“I've just never been asked that before,” he answered without a change of his expression. “That’s something that’s kinda odd to me the more I think about it.”
“Well, like I said, we can do it one on one,” she recalled, “at my place. I can help you if it's really hard.”
“Would you?” He turned his head to her; in the waning sunlight, she made out the sight of the thoughtful look on his face.
“I would, yes. It's—It's something that can be nerve racking when you think about it and put your head into it.”
Joey swallowed; she peered down at his chest and his stomach, the latter of which he sucked in a bit.
“Like I said, Joey,” she continued as they neared the dark shore, “I'll put it under lock and key.”
“And you'll help me?” He stopped right in his tracks: they were several feet from the water; Sam looked in front of her at the gentlest of waves as they touched the dark sands up ahead.
“Yeah. I'll let you take it slow.”
Joey peered over his shoulder. They were alone on the shores. He returned to her and held onto the hem of his shirt: he peeled it off right in front of her. Sam gasped at the very sight of his slender dark body. His jeans hugged his hip bones and the button hung right underneath his belly button. Even in the darkness, she could make out the sight of his ribs.
“Oh, my god,” she breathed out. He looked down at his body.
“It's one thing to be up on stage like this,” he started again, still with a low voice, “but it's another thing entirely when I'm just in front of a single person. I feel like I'm about to get down.”
“Well, you aren't,” she chuckled. “I know it's dark, but let me see you, though. Let me feel—I want to know what I'm getting myself into here—”
“You're not gonna go below the belt, are you?” he asked her, concerned. He held his shirt over his forearm.
“Oh, no—I just want to touch your skin. I won't hurt you or touch you too hard, I promise.” She set a hand on his shoulder: his skin was smooth and silken. “I want to get an idea of how your body is shaped and how it feels under my fingers.”
“Sam, this is—this feels really funny,” he confessed as he jerked his arm back a bit.
“Again, I can stop at any time,” she quipped, and she raised her hands up to her chest.
“No, no, it's okay,” he insisted. “I just—y'know.”
“You're not used to it,” she said.
“Not at all. But—keep going, though. I'll hold still.”
“Hold still and relax, too.”
Joey kept his feet firmly pressed to the dark earth underneath him and his right arm, which acted as a rung for his shirt, close to his body. Sam caressed his shoulders: his dark skin was soft and smooth to the touch. He stood out against the impending darkness around them; she ran her hands onto his shoulder blades and some of his black curls brushed against the backs of her hands. She lifted her hands and brought them to the base of his head: his hair was extra smooth and fine in comparison to the rest of it.
He bowed his head closer to her so she could have a better feel of his hair and skin.
Smooth and placid, just like the lake water. His hair felt like the slightly coarse bristles of a shrub; he bowed his head a bit more which made some more of those curls dangle down over her head.
She moved her hands down his arms, home of even more of that sun kissed skin. She caressed his hands, those big paws with the long spidery fingers which already had a bit of callus on them from his few years of drumming. She then moved her hands to his chest and caressed him down from there: his body was delicate and light, but strong, and as a result, it made her think of silk.
Even through the darkness, she could see he had closed his eyes. When she lay her hands on his waist, he shuddered his shoulders a little bit.
“You okay?” she asked him in a gentle voice.
“Yeah, I'm just—kinda—”
“What?”
He nibbled on his bottom lip even as she held her hands upon his stomach.
“What is it?” she asked him again. He never replied, and so she moved her hands off of him. Slowly, he raised his head and he opened his eyes: those dark irises gazed back at her from the darkness and the crown of pitch black curls all around his head.
“Is everything okay?” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
“Yeah, that's—kind of a tender spot for me, to be really honest,” he confessed. “Right on my stomach. It gets easily upset and I've been hit a bunch of times there with a hockey puck.”
“Oh, Jesus,” she quipped.
“Yeah... it felt kinda good, though. Having your hands glide all over me. It actually felt quite nice.”
He peered up at the inky sky overhead: the first stars had long appeared and were joined by several more, but the moon was nowhere to be seen as of yet.
“Wanna head on back?” he suggested. “Y'know, I gotta be in the City, too.”
“Yeah, let's—let's do that.” She nodded her head.
“You don't mind if I keep my shirt off, do you?”
“Oh, not at all,” she promised him; through the dim light, she made out the sight of his lopsided grin. “What's that look for?”
“Of course you don't mind,” he giggled, to which she scoffed and rolled her eyes. Joey led her back up the walkway towards the vista point and the car; indeed, when he opened the driver's side door, the little light on the ceiling bathed him in soft yellow light and made him resemble to a little lizard. He slung his shirt over the back of the seat before he climbed into the seat which brought a laugh out of her.
“What?” he asked her.
“You are such a guy,” she teased him.
“Well, duh,” he retorted, and they both laughed in unison. They shut their doors at the same time, and then they headed away from there, back towards New York City. The lights from the Syracuse skyline dotted the dark earth, all the way to the very edge of the wilderness. Within time, they were met with complete darkness.
“Man, it's spooky out here, isn't it?” Sam remarked: the glow from the headlights shone upon the trees on either side of the highway. They were the only ones on the road.
“You only saw part of it a few months back,” Joey told her, “when you, Frankie, and Charlie came out to rescue me and also when Stormtroopers recorded their album. This is the very essence of upstate right here. You should really see it when it rains, too, especially when night comes over like this. It's like something out of a horror novel.”
They fell back into silence as Sam kept her eye on the tree line outside of the car. She gazed up at the sky: not a star to be seen. She ran her finger tips over each other so she could better recall the feeling of Joey's body. It was definitely something she needed to do a second time unlike with Frank, who was there by her side the whole step of the way.
Joey then cleared his throat and spoke again.
“By the way, I should also tell ya that Legacy is opening for us.”
“Really? Aw, good for them.”
“Yeah—and I hope we get to see you and Cliff dance again to them.” He laughed at that.
“Complete with the tulips,” she joked.
“One of you should put one in your mouth like you're doin' a tango,” he suggested, and she burst out laughing.
“I should wear like one of those long billowy skirts, too,” she added.
“Oh, yeah! That long kinda rich red velvet skirt that goes down to yer ankles. That, plus a little white button up top.” Right when he said that, she thought about undoing a few buttons to show Cliff some of her chest.
“Have my hair down, too.”
“Combine that with his cowboy get up and you get quite the scene,” Joey declared with a little gyration of the head. Every so often, a few lights glimmered through the trees and Sam wondered if any of those people were a part of something or if they were their own thing in the lush forests of upstate. She flashed back on California, and how some parts were so vacant and wide open, from the desert on the eastern side of the mountains to the forests in the northern part of the state.
Within time, the lights from Poughkeepsie pierced the darkness, and she could make out the faint silhouette of the Catskills off in the distance. It would be another hour or so before the New York City skyline appeared through the vast blackness around them.
By that time, Joey fetched up a rather large yawn and he arched his back.
“Are you gonna have enough to drive yourself home?” she asked him as signs for the Bronx popped up on the side of the road.
“I dunno,” he confessed.
“I'll let you crash on my couch again,” she offered. He yawned a second time and brought both hands back to the steering wheel.
“I also don't think it'd even be worth it to go back home 'cause we're playing down here.”
“Right, right, right.”
“Might as well crash on your couch tonight.”
“I hope the phone doesn't ring at one o'clock in the morning like it did last time, too,” she said.
“That was Cliff who did that, right,” he recalled.
“You promise to keep a secret?”
“I'll take secrets to the grave with me if I have to,” he vowed. “That includes your little smooch with him, too.”
“Wow,” she breathed. “But yeah, it was Cliff. He called me and asked me out.”
“Really.” She could hear the disappointment in his voice.
“Really, really. So—if he and I actually dance the night away again at the show—”
“It's gonna be... the real thing,” he softly said.
Sam turned her head towards him and the nonchalant look on his face. He never made note of it for the rest of the trip, but she could feel it within him. When they headed upstairs to her room, Joey was still silent even as he lay down on her couch. Sam yawned as she locked the door, and she felt it would be the best time to turn it in for the night herself.
The next morning, they awoke bright and early and headed down to L'Amour via the subway, lest Joey put extra stress on his new car. Zetro sat outside of the venue with a cup of coffee in hand and a mostly burnt cigarette in the other. He put the cigarette in between his lips and then showed them a pretty little wave as they pulled up to the spot next to him. Sam waved her hand before her face even though the breeze blew the smoke the other way.
“I don't like it, either,” Joey told her in a low voice, “it's hard on the voice box.”
“It's okay, I'm almost done,” he promised her as a plume billowed out of his mouth. Alex emerged from the door next to him and coughed at the smell of it.
“Bloody hell, dude,” he groaned: even from behind his big dark sunglasses, Sam could make out the look of complete disgust on his little round face.
“C'mon, toughen up, little man!” Zetro proclaimed as he dropped the butt onto the sidewalk and let it smolder. Alex scoffed at that and kept on walking to the opposite side of the venue: the little sliver of gray over his forehead blended into the rest of his helmet of rich dark curls, but that didn't stop Sam from picturing it.
“He ain't little, either,” Joey continued with his voice still low; “I stood next to him just a couple of days ago. That kid's bigger than me.”
Alex disappeared around the far corner of the building as Joey and Sam climbed out of the car.
“Hey, kids,” Zetro greeted them as he brought the cup of coffee to his mouth. “We're just getting set up at the moment, so don't get too excited as of yet.”
“You guys and Anthrax?” Joey asked him.
“Yeah, Scott and Charlie are in there already. Frankie and Danny should be here like—any minute.” Zetro hesitated for a moment. “By the way—hope you don't mind me asking, but are you and little Sam I am here a thing?”
“Oh, no, we're just friends,” she declared with a wave of her hand. He raised an eyebrow at her but he never said anything after that. Instead, he reached behind him and opened the door for them to head on inside. Charlie had taken his seat at a table on the edge of the room with a cup of coffee and a comic book plunked open before him. Sam recalled what Cliff had said about them and their comic books, and she wondered if there was any more beyond that.
“'Mornin', Charlie,” Joey decreed.
“'Mornin', Joey,” he returned the favor with a glance up from those inked pages, “and li'l Sam.”
“Catching up on a little reading?” Sam gestured to the comic book.
“All the time as of late,” he proclaimed with a twinkle in his eye. “But it's actually something I've always liked, but I never really told you about because—” He pursed his lips together, and Joey turned to her.
“It's not really something girls do,” he finished for him.
“Pretty much,” Charlie said with a shrug. “Marla puts up with it. Well, and she's not really exposed to it much so that's just what I've seen with her.”
Right as the words left his lips, Marla herself emerged from behind the stage with a small white cup of coffee in hand. Sam let her eyes wander to the stage where a small drum kit had already been set up and a bass guitar rested on a small wiry rack.
“Speaking of Marla,” Joey started.
“You talkin' 'bout me?” she asked him; Sam noticed the dark roots already coming forth on the crown of her head, right within the helmet of bright orange.
“Not really,” Charlie quipped. She squinted her eyes at him, and he sank down in his seat. Sam thought about the dream she had had, where she barged in on Marla and Joey's wedding. It was a fleeting thought but a thought nonetheless. Marla took a sip from her coffee.
“Plenty more where that came from, too,” she declared with a gesture to the comic book. “And how.”
“It's not a lot, though,” Charlie promised.
“You guys and your comic books,” she chuckled.
“I kinda like it,” Sam admitted.
“Really?” Marla, Charlie, and Joey all said in unison.
“Yeah, that's cool you guys are into that,” she continued. “It is an art after all.”
“Hell yeah, it is!” Charlie declared, again with a twinkle in his eye. “I've wanted to write a comic book since I was a kid, believe it or not. I just haven't been able to.”
“All the paper and the ink that goes into it,” Marla added. Something caught Sam's eye: she turned her head and spotted Louie and Greg taking to the stage.
“Doin' all our sound checking,” Louie called out to them as he took his seat behind the drums. He picked up his sticks and set his feet on the pedals. Greg slung the bass over his shoulder. He shook his dark hair about so it covered most of his face. Using two fingers, he plucked at the strings and the softest noise came out. Louie tapped his snare drum a tiny bit, and then he followed it with his toms and one of the cymbals. The two of them glanced at one another and cackled; Louie pounded the drums and Greg took one step forward to give it more juice.
Just a sole rhythm section and they created a thick wall of sound. It was so loud and sudden, it made Sam jump back.
“Oh my god, they're gonna be louder than they were the last time,” she remarked.
“Babies've got some new speakers!” Marla exclaimed over Greg's thundering bass and Louie's thumping kick drum.
“It's gonna be kind of a tough act to follow,” Charlie said to them in a loud voice so they could hear, “these boys are getting tight real quick.”
They stopped playing all of a sudden, which caught the four of them off guard.
“Damn,” Joey called out. Greg and Louie gave each other a high five. Aurora emerged from behind the stage with a clipboard tucked under her arm.
“How'd that sound, Aurora?” Greg called out to her as he slung his bass off of his shoulder.
“Exactly like how you should!” she replied with a peer over her shoulder. She returned to them with a beaming smile on her face.
“Gonna be hell of a show tonight,” Sam told her.
“Absolutely!” Aurora continued to beam at them. She halted right in front of her and lifted one of the pages on her clipboard.
“If you ladies can get some ear plugs,” Charlie told her as he shifted his weight in his seat; “that'd be fantastic. Like, even just sittin' here, I can tell you all it's gonna be so loud tonight.”
“Oh my god,” Aurora blurted out.
“What?” Sam turned to her.
“This is apparently the last time we're going to see Zetro with Legacy,” she stated, and she gaped at the paper: she even let it drift down to the stack on the clipboard. Marla gasped at that.
“What! Why?”
“He's going to another Bay Area band,” Aurora explained as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Exodus. Jon didn't give me the full story, but I guess they fired their old singer—Paul—and they asked Zetro to join in with them as their lead.”
“Exodus,” Sam noted. “As in the book from the Bible, Exodus.”
“Right! Kirk—from Metallica—used to be with them until just a couple of years ago.”
“Good choice, too, I say,” Marla chimed in with a shuffle of her feet. “That's just from what I've heard—just from being with Charlie and hanging out with Zetro, Zelda, and Louie is those guys are struggling like crazy right now.”
“Oh, yeah, something about their problems with the label and trying to release their record,” Aurora recalled in a single breath. “It was never really explained to me—in fact, I don't think Jon even knows the whole story come to think of it. We're based here in New York and they're still way the hell out in California, in the Bay Area—again, in the Bay Area. But one thing I will say is it sounds like that record could've been something, like it could've set the stage for all of these boys.”
“And now the dude is out,” said Sam.
“And now the dude is out, right!” Aurora echoed.
“Do you know who their new lead singer is gonna be?” Joey asked her.
“Ummm... some guy named Chuck. Zetro recommended him, from what I saw just now. Chuck—something or other...” She shuffled through the papers on the clipboard. “Yeah. Chuck Billy! That's his name. I've yet to hear him sing, though—I hope he's a good fit for them.”
“Zelda's not gonna be happy, though,” Marla declared.
"No, she won't," Charlie added as he flipped the page of his comic.
#chapter 8#fanfic#fanfiction#anthrax fanfic#heavy metal fanfic#anthrax#deadly nightshade#book two#legacy#joey belladonna#charlie benante#steve souza#greg christian#louie clemente#also on ao3#long reads#writing#text
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