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pieroulette · 1 year

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𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐬: 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝟐

2023 | 18+ | SERIES | ENHYPEN OT6 × READER | MASTERLIST

SUMMARY with the absolute order from the highest celestials, six high ranking angels were sent to capture and condemn you—an exceedingly sinful and overpowering succubus to the holy tower for eternity. Capturing you might not be so difficult with them outnumbering you, but the question is; would they be able to keep ignoring your irresistible charms while staying firm to their principles, abiding by the rules, and reciting their prayers forever?

GENRE angels and demons au, romance, reverse harem, angst, fluff, smut

WORD COUNT 2.5k

AUTHOR'S NOTE this will be the last teaser for this series. By the time I released Route 1's finale, and the first episode of Royal Series. I'll start working on this EP which is the first day of July.

Bounding you inside the holy tower, on the round glowing pattern that had you kneeling down with your wrist, neck, and legs all tangled with the rusty metal collar that prevented you from escaping was quite an easy feat for them. However the powerful ritual spell that they formed together by infusing their respective powers on you had them vomiting out blood causing them to grow unbelievably weak. For a couple of minutes bounding you with their entire strength, they thought they could’ve died at that moment, but fortunately they didn’t.

Atleast that’s what Sunoo thought, as he playfully twirls his bead necklace as he watched you on your knees yet sleeping peacefully, a sight that he hadn’t expected to be quite captivating to him, to say the least. He frowned at that very thought, wondering if you had any power left in you as the holy tower was designed to pinned your spells down, so there’s no way he could be affected by you, right?

He had been assigned by Heeseung to watched over you for a whole month before they completely seal you in this tower for eternity, and suck your remaining power out of your cultivation. The rest of the five are to recuperate in their respective quarters to regain their power and cultivate so they are able to completely overpower you and not to fall upon the same fate that day.

Sunoo lowered himself down, taking a seat on the floor as he placed his chin on his hand, tilting his head as he memorise your features. He thought that you truly live up to your status as a succubus, for you were truly enchanting. The fact that you once live in heaven was quite shocking to him, he wondered what could’ve you done to have the gods banishing you. Sure, he knew the list of what could one do to receive such punishment, but curious he was about what you truly did.

You’ve been sleeping for way too long, Sunoo thought as he lets out a dejected sigh—seemingly disappointed. It has been nearly two weeks since he was here, but you’ve never open your eyes, and the first and last time he had communicated with you was only on the day they were trying to capture you.

For awhile, he had a slight urge to tuck your hair strands covering your face behind your ear but refused to do so as it would be unnecessary.

But he remembered your words, a faint blush dusting over his fair cheeks and he immediately cupped his cheeks with his hands, feeling the sensation—heating up due to his unusual thoughts. Shaking his head and cringing, he’s only being affected by you for being in your presence for too long, that must be the answer, isn’t?

The sound of rattling chains had him alerted, immediately turning his head towards your eyes opened, the strand of your hair falling down your cheek as you look up to him. His lips hang apart, unsure of how to act, but the fact that he was stuttering had him mentally slapping himself. What was he suppose to do now that you were awake? Talk to you or what? You don’t need food either, when you actually feed on..

“Boy, why don’t you come over here?” his head grew dazed for a split second, and his feet betraying him against his will before he froze. Wait, you can’t be having any power left in you. So why was he getting affected? He stood there contemplating of what to do, and finally coming into conclusion that he shall stay silent while watching over you.

Of course, him staying silent was met with a twitch on your eyebrow—annoyed you were. You truly were unable to do anything but wait for the day you’re going to be sealed here forever.

“Are you shy?” You asked, and the boy raise his foxy eyes on you along with his eyebrow. “Because if you weren’t, you would be talking with me, you know.”

Again, he remain silent.

You lazily look up to the ceiling of the tower, letting out a long exaggerated sigh. “It’s so boring here, truly boring.”

Sunoo scoffed, thinking of how you truly deserve such condemnation for committing sinful acts that he lets out not one but a whole sentence. “That’s what you deserve for being sinful.”

The corner of your red lips pulled up, “Don’t you wonder what kind of sin I had committed, though?”

“I am not curious even a single bit. Keep it to yourself.”

“Aw, are you trying to be like that feisty angel with you that day?” You cooed which had his eyebrows knitting in disbelief. “I could applaud you, but if you ask me, you’d appear alot more adorable with your lips on mine.” brushing your finger against your lips you did, and Sunoo look away not showing any reaction as he unfortunately realise you were playing tricks on him.

Another week had passed, and Sunoo couldn’t wait for another seven days as you constantly barged him his peace of mind with questions that had him biting his lip to the point it left a mark. Seven more days, seven more days, pressing his eyes tight as he constantly repeated it in his mind along with prayers for God to give him strength and patience. Yet the obnoxious devil you were, cause him to hissed.

“Can’t you shut your mouth for once?!” veins popped on the side of his neck as he gritted his teeth.

“Are you angry?” You asked with a mischievous smirk on your lips. Sunoo ruffled through his hair, knowing very well that you were testing him and playing all sorts of tricks on him and yet despite being aware of it, he couldn’t help but finally react even after days of remaining calm.

Tightening his fist, he glared at you. “You’re truly filthy, aren’t you? No wonder the gods tremendously loathed you cause you can’t keep your filthy mouth shut, and that you don’t even deserve a place in heaven.”

Ouch, that somehow raises a slight irritation in you, you gotta admit—that your playful smirk dissipates and your seductive eyes was replaced with an expression Sunoo couldn’t fathom.

Biting your thumb under your lower lip, you scoffed at him. “A place in heaven? No thanks, I couldn’t last even a second in that so-called heaven of yours. That gods you so adore till the last breath of your life, are you that oblivious to think that they’re always free from filth and sin?”

Sunoo raises his eyebrow, “What? If you’re trying to stain the god’s name with your filthy tongue, then that won’t work on me. They’re far more virtuous than you are, they’re—”

“Oh please, keep indulging yourself in such illusion, I’ll be your guest. But–” you playfully pouted, “It hurts a tad bit to see my favourite angel get fooled, after all, it’s such a waste to see such an angel like you serving such double-faced gods.”

Sunoo didn’t know how to react with your choice of words, how was he supposed to? His mind urge him to put you in your place after insulting the gods, another urging him to simply just stay silent till the day of the retribution, but deep behind his ribs—that heart of his grew rampant much to his utter surprise. He despised how great of an effect you had on him that he didn’t say anything and left, breaking the rule that all of them six had agreed on.

He couldn’t care any less, he just wanted to be free for a moment. It’s not like you could escape with the spell they casted on you, or the holy tower bounding you inside it.

His wings fluttered through the sky, his feet landing on top of the clouds as he puffed into a series of emotions—his mind was consumed by your words—your existence itself cause him utter annoyance, but the mixture of an emotion he knew was wrong was arising. Was he being fooled? When you uttered those words with those seductive eyes softening for a split of second had him felt as if you were truly being genuine to him, but then you must be only fooling him and he’s evidently falling for you.

Sunoo truly broke the agreement he had with his brothers, as for the remaining six days—he didn’t watch over you as to avoid any wreck on his peace of mind and emotions, and only return on the day of the retribution.

He had decided to arrive more early than his brothers to make it seem like that he was truly doing his task aka watching over you. When he arrive, he expected you be awake and try to seduce him with your bold words but you were once again in your deep slumber much to his surprise. Beyond relief he was that the holy tower was still functioning and that you truly were unable to do anything to escape.

But Sunoo felt a slight pang in his heart as his foxy eyes fell on you longer than he expected, his feet approaching you, crouching down as he took a closer look at your face—he truly thinks you look alot more innocent while with your eyes closed, your eyelashes fluttering slightly which makes him wonder if you were dreaming and if so, what dream you were having?

He wondered what kind of life you had before you became a succubus, were you an angel just like them? And did you live a diligent life and abide by the rules before falling into darkness? And what have you possibly done that you became like the way you are right now?

He was curious, unbelievably curious as another question rose one after another the more his eyes fixated on your slumber. However a shiver run down his spine when dust particles of crimson he recognised floated in his peripheral vision, long finger wrapping around his neck before he could react and see who it was. He lets out a series of gasp, and a breathe hitched down his throat when your eyelashes fluttered against his in a dangerous proximity.

It can’t be? It can’t be! Sunoo screamed at his mind, strings of inaudible words left his lips as he breathe out in fear, his hand trembling on the marble floor as you were on top of him, your wrist and neck free from the metal chains and collars, your ruby orbs looking down at him with expressions he knew would be his last sight to look upon before you rip him apart.

What a joke, he can’t believe you will be the last thing he will ever saw before he’s gone. A part of him incredibly loathes it, he hated how his death would be cause by a demon, to crumble pathetically before a demon that his pride as an angel—as one of the high ranking angels with his brothers, all had gone to the drain. Sunoo felt as if he didn’t deserve to be an angel at that very moment, that he deserves nothing but to receive punishment for breaking a promise, a rule, an agreement with his brothers. That he doesn’t actually belong with the glowing light amongst his brothers, however as much as hollow he had been, he should be alerting his brothers of you right now, he should—but, but..

The way your lips brushes against his cheek as you brushed his silk hair had his rampant mind engulfed with peace. A sense of peace that felt wholly different to the peace he had cultivated in the thousand years of his life.

The way you caressed his face as if he was fragile cause wonders to his emotions, the way your orbs look deep into his soul as if he was so delicate to you had him wondering just what you are up to? Weren’t you going to kill him? To rip him to pieces to show the heavens how exceedingly powerful you are?

“Just.. k-kill me now. What are y-you still w-waiting for?” The tremendous weight of your aura had him stuttering in a ghost-quiet whisper, truly proving how very well he knew that he isn’t comparable to your strength. He wishes for his death to be swift and painless, despite knowing that you must’ve been irritated for how he treated you for a whole month.

Because why wouldn’t you? You belong to the underworld, with those nasty wicked demons and creatures just like you are, your own kind. The very fate you put yourself into. Sunoo could only wonder just how many souls you had uttered vile and unholy words from the tongue you were lapping on your red lips right now. Thinking of it cause his heart to quenched in pain, but, what was he even thinking?

“Why would I?” You brushed his soft pink lips with your thumb, “When I already told you that you’re my favourite angel? Killing you would be such a waste.”

“What?” His eyes widened, lips hanging apart in disbelief. Your red orb sparked in flames when you saw the chance, pushing in your thumb into his mouth and exploring his cheeks causing him to gagged. Sunoo was beyond shock as he tasted your thumb on his tongue, he was supposed to use his powers on you right now considering how you were fixated with your thumb in his lips, however he remain still—a part of him begging for him to let this moment to last a bit more, to let you use him as your toy.

“Do you like it?”

“H-huh?” Sunoo fell deeper into this loophole of sinful desires the longer you were on top of him, the taste of your thumb in his mouth, the sensation of your other hand wrapping around his neck suffocating him from oxygen. You pulled out your thumb from his lips, leaning in closer as you lapped your tongue on the saliva that were dripping on the corners of his lips before pulling him into a long, deep kiss.

Sunoo’s eyes widened in utter surprise, as he tasted your lips dancing against his—perfectly moulding and emitting a loud pop everytime you pulled away for a oxygen—leaving a long string of saliva as you did so. That leaves him to desire for your lips more, he had never felt this sensation ever in his thousand years of life. Your scent, your lips, your existence itself drove Sunoo to a state of drunkenness—his mind consumed nothing but you. “P-please kiss me again.”

Your lips pulled in the widest big smirk, cooing over how adorable he was for begging you—the delicate innocent angel that tried his best to fought his desires for you are now in tangled in the crimson strings you laid out for him. “Of course, why not, my angel?”

Sunoo felt as if he belonged to you when you uttered those words, a sense of belonging he only felt amongst his brothers. Your hands made its way to the buttons of his shirt, sneakily unbuttoning each one of them and yet he happily let you as he indulged in your own world that you bestow upon him.

The sound of heavy fluttering wings had his eyes widened in horror, as he saw his brother Sunghoon standing in the distance, “Sunoo! What do you think you’re doing?!” with his mouth gaping at what he had seen in front of him. Dread consumed Sunoo's insides, what would his brother think of him letting a succubus used him like a pleasure toy? What would he think now of him? Would he be banish from heaven too?

Dozens of questions arise in Sunoo's head but somehow something was quite different as he sensed the odd demeanour Sunghoon has in him, his brother's form frozen and his fists tightening as if he refused to use his power against... You.

With you still on top of him, Sunoo lazily fixes his posture and wrapped his right arm around your hips—pulling you closer as his attention remain on his brother, eyebrows knitting together in curiosity and confusion, and annoyance.

“What? Are you jealous?”

TAGLIST: @xxvyjoy @0102luvr @nyeonglover @hoonlv @bwljules @weyukinluv

#enha #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enha imagines #enha x reader #enhypen oneshots #enhypen scenarios #enha fanfic #enhypen x female reader #enha smut #enhypen smut #sunoo smut #sunoo x reader #enhypen sunghoon #jay enhypen #heeseung x reader #enha jake #jungwon smut #heeseung smut

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sneakyboymerlin · 6 months

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If no merwaine, then why…

Transcript and analysis below ⬇️

Transcription:

Gwaine: Thanks for everything that you did for Eira.

Merlin: There’s no need to thank me, it was the least I could do. And you seem to care for her.

Gwaine: I could hardly leave her for the Saxons, now, could I?

Merlin: [teasing] Was that your only reason for rescuing her?

Gwaine: [lying] Of course.

[Saxons attack. Gwaine fights them off, but one knocks Merlin to the ground. He curls up and shields his face, completely helpless.]

Merlin: [screaming] Gwaine!

[Gwaine turns his back on the man he’s fighting and saves Merlin. He finishes off the last Saxon without even looking, eyes still on Merlin. He helps Merlin off the ground.]

Gwaine: Are you okay?

Merlin: Yeah, I- I think so. Thank you.

Gwaine: There’s no need to thank me, Merlin. It was the least I could do.

aaaaaaand END SCENE!

To start off with, we have a self-aware parallel in Merlin and Gwaine’s dialogue. We’re going to be examining the subtext of this conversation.

Subtext is simply what can be inferred without direct statement or revelation. It is not, as fandom is wont to believe, inserting any meaning you want between the lines: it is a cohesive message expressed by indirect means. Here’s an example:

A student goes to turn in his paper. After looking through two pages, his teacher asks, “Are you sure you want to turn this in?” The subtext of this question is the intended clue to the student that the paper is not ready yet to be turned in and he should edit through it again.

Moving forward… The repetition of, “There’s no need to thank me, it was the least I could do,” is a deliberate allusion to a core theme of Merlin and Gwaine’s relationship through the years: helping another soul—soon to be friend—in need, with no expectation of a reward.

The subtextual reading of this parallel, of course, is that Merlin does not owe Gwaine, and vice versa, because that is not why they help each other. They do it because they care about one another. As a result, they’ve both helped each other innumerably. Gwaine alludes to the help Merlin’s given him as a way of saying that there is no need to return the favor, because 1) he didn’t do it expecting a favor in exchange, and 2) Merlin has more than repaid the favor already.

Another instance where we see this kind of exchange between them is in this deleted scene from 4x07 The Secret Sharer (scene 47 at 15:10).

youtube

Transcript:

Gwaine: We’ll find him.

Merlin: I won’t forget this.

Gwaine: I haven’t done anything.

Merlin: One day I’ll repay the favor.

Gwaine: Considering the trouble I get into, that may prove to be a rash promise.

[Gwaine offers Merlin some food]

Merlin: I’m full.

Another deleted scene (they really did just delete every meaningful Gwaine scene in s4 huh) which we have only a script for (though it’s possible it was recorded and the audio edited out) is when Gwaine and Arthur ride out to find Merlin in 4x06 after he’s been captured by bandits. Although this scene did not make the final cut, it is referenced again when Gwaine calls Merlin “Bog Man,” so it clearly has a place amidst the canon material.

(Find the transcription here.)

I think it speaks for itself here, but, “And finding him will be reward enough?” truly captures the selfless devotion that Gwaine feels for Merlin.

Fandom generally accepts the idea that Gwaine would do anything for Merlin, but that Merlin never seems to do the same in return. However, this is likely a misconception of what counts towards a returned favor. Merlin is a physician, not a warrior. Or, as Morgana puts it, “a lover” (not a fighter). We cannot expect Merlin to help Gwaine in the same area of expertise that Gwaine helps him in. He applies himself in other ways.

When they meet in 3x04, Gwaine offers Merlin and Arthur aid in a tavern brawl where they’re clearly outnumbered. Gwaine is injured when his opponent pulls out a knife in a fistfight, and Merlin rushes to tend to his wound. Already, a favor is given and returned between the two.

And, while Gwaine does intend to help both Merlin and Arthur, not to mention the tavern employees, he takes a special interest in Merlin. Merlin is the only one who Gwaine takes the time to introduce himself to mid-fight, even as Merlin shouts for him to watch out as he is being actively attacked. And then, of course, Gwaine does fall to an attack. Merlin treats his injuries both on the spot and back in his own chambers.

One could argue that the introduction of Gwaine to Eira follows a similar format, with Gwaine coming to her rescue, only for her to save him when their attacker knocks him to the ground. Perhaps Gwaine even takes on Merlin’s role as caretaker from 3x04 when he brings Merlin in to treat Eira in 5x12, as opposed to receiving the treatment himself. Then again, it might be more similar to the scene in 4x07 where Gwaine jumps in to battle against Alator’s guard. Like Eira, Merlin also rescues Gwaine when he’s knocked to the ground (though Gwaine doesn’t know it).

As we can see, though, Merlin is not lying when he tells Gwaine, “I’d do the same for you,” in 3x08, nor when he tells Gwaine, “One day I’ll repay the favor,” in the deleted scene from 4x07. Merlin and Gwaine have different services to offer, but they offer to help all the same.

The next portion of the aforementioned 5x12 scene on our to-dissect list is the actual subject matter of the conversation, followed by a visual representation of the very same act.

After Gwaine thanks Merlin for helping Eira, Merlin mentions that Gwaine “seem[s] to care for her.” Gwaine, in an effort to avoid the sexual and romantic implications, diverts to the chivalrous explanation: “I could hardly leave her to the Saxons, now, could I?” Merlin teases him with no relent, though, and asks, “Was that your only reason for rescuing her?” Gwaine responds with a curt, “Of course.”

The subtext of this conversation is that Gwaine’s hurried involvement to protect/take care of Eira stems from a crush on her. This is true, as there were many enemies around, but Gwaine chose the one attacking the pretty “damsel in distress” to fight. He then takes one long look at her and decides to forgo the battle to take her to safety.

Merlin can’t help but notice Gwaine’s feelings for her. She is, after all, staying in his bed even after her wound has been treated, so there is a connection between them… much like Gwaine stayed with Merlin for the remainder of 3x04 until he had no choice but to fulfill the demands of his banishment. This is especially interesting, since the wound that Merlin treats Eira for is on her leg, which is the same spot where Gwaine was stabbed when they first met. Merlin similarly wrapped his wound at the time.

But the main point is the fact that Gwaine rescued Eira from the Saxons with a single-minded fervency, in part because he was attracted to her, and then quickly grew attached.

Gwaine then proceeds to rescue Merlin from Saxons a matter of seconds after this is established.

Allow me to remind you of Gwaine’s sudden change of course in saving Eira.

Now compare this to his rescue of Merlin.

Let’s take a closer look at their dialogue:

Merlin: You seem to care for her.

Gwaine: I could hardly leave her for the Saxons, now, could I?

Merlin: [teasing] Was that your only reason for rescuing her?

Gwaine: [lying] Of course.

When applied to Gwaine’s rescue of Merlin, the conversation about Gwaine rescuing Eira takes on a more powerful meaning. After all, Eira is a virtual stranger who ends up being the traitor in the court. Gwaine sends her to her execution on Merlin’s word (via Gaius as the messenger), whereas Merlin is someone Gwaine has known for nearly a decade. There is a consistent history of Gwaine acting as Merlin’s body guard, which is being enacted again now as Gwaine escorts Merlin through the Valley of the Fallen Kings.

This is also one of the last ever scenes between Merlin and Gwaine. In truth, we are being shown a brief summary of their relationship as it comes to its narrative end—one last hurrah, if you will. And what they choose to show us is Gwaine protecting Merlin in an act of unconditional love.

Eira, like any character, is a plot device. Her interference leads to Merlin being trapped in the Crystal Cave, and Gwaine being tortured for information on Merlin and Arthur’s location. However, her presence as a person Gwaine wants to protect is meant to evoke the memory of every time Gwaine has protected Merlin. The chosen method to imply this was by creating a parallel between Gwaine’s protectiveness over the woman he’s currently sleeping with to his protectiveness over Merlin. Take that as you will.

#bbc merlin #merlin emrys #sir gwaine #merwaine #mergwaine #merlin meta #my meta #merlin and gwaine #bbc merlin deleted scenes #video #audio #transcript #long post is long

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cuppajj · 7 days

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Which of the neo beast is the most vunerable or easy to attack amd defeat among the five

No Neo Beast is easy to defeat, let alone even light sweat work; they’re on the levels of the previous beasts themselves, and threaten to grow stronger by the day. However, if you miraculously had what it took to fight each of them, here are the fights from least to most difficult:

The most difficult to determine is Saint Vanilla Cookie, who as is, is only one force. While he may have some zealots yet to meet his touch, he has no army or guard to back him, and thus can easily be outnumbered. However, he’s the deadliest of the Neo Beasts for a reason, and his magic might be able to sweep an entire force in seconds. There’s just no telling, but one thing for sure is that if he achieves his goal, stopping him will truly be next to impossible. He may be the easiest to fight just as he may be the hardest…

Next is either Cheese or Lily; while Cheese has a small force of subjugated cookies, they are intensely zealous and throw away their lives in the name of her gracious vision. Cheese also has the ability to summon countless arms that can turn anything to gold with their touch, which makes close combat virtually impossible. Lily has a larger force of equally loyal troops, but hers are far more organized. Lily’s no commander though, and ruling is still something new to her, so she’s not the same level of strategist as Cheese or Cacao are. However, the fae are deadly if you’re fighting within the forest, especially if their queen is present, because she can turn the entire forest against you with the wave of her hand. Blades of grass can turn into impaling pikes just like that.

Dragonberry may not have much magic, but she’s the physically strongest Beast of the entire group with the largest army to boot. While she has a chain of command who do a sum of the conquering on her behalf, the tides change for the worse if the Beast herself were to show up. With just her shield, she can take on masses of foes, and is ridiculously hearty. She only joins battles when she’s done watching them, and wants to speed the result up; and if she’s feeling fun, she can sic the Red Dragon themself on you. However, her pride can make her stubborn, and her levels of strategy are nowhere near Cacao. It’s why she’s doing whatever it takes to become stronger. Just think of what she could be if she achieved dragonhood…

Speaking of Cacao, he’s arguably the most underestimated Neo Beast in terms of strength. He may be a recluse with his kingdom under ice, but much of his strongest warriors are alive and the entirety of the nightmarish licorice sea is loyal to him. Because he doesn’t look like neither a strategist, commander, or warrior when he’s slumped over and emotionless on his throne, he lets his deceptive appearance weaken any foe who doesn’t know any better. Bear in mind, if you step into his kingdom, let alone his throne room, it’s because he let you. If you and your army think you can take on his army and an unending ocean full of abyssal horrors, he’d be willing to see you try.

#beast ancients au

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gendrie · 10 months

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"How many guards does my father have?" she asked him as they descended to her bedchamber. "Here at King's Landing? Fifty." "You wouldn't let anyone kill him, would you?" she asked. Desmond laughed. "No fear on that count, little lady. Lord Eddard's guarded night and day. He'll come to no harm." "The Lannisters have more than fifty men," Arya pointed out. (Arya, AGOT)

arya was the only team stark player who did the math in kings landing. ned becomes so blinded by duty and mercy that he fails to truly appreciate this very simple truth that arya can very easily recognize: they are outnumbered.

it also tracks with arya taking note of numbers and having a good head for mathematics in general. from counting flowers to roofs and guards, prisoners, hearths and weirwood stumps, ect.

and this:

Many of the captives were wounded. If any halted, one of the riders would trot up and give him a lick of the whip to get him moving again. She tried to judge how many prisoners there were, but lost count before she got to fifty. There were twice that many at least.

She could go where she would. The garrison numbered no more than a hundred men, so small a troop that they were lost in Harrenhal. [...] But now there were only a hundred men left to guard a thousand doors, and no one seemed to know who should be where, or care much.

"Gendry, there's a hundred northmen. Maybe more, I couldn't count them all. That's as many as Ser Amory has. Well, not counting the Bloody Mummers. We just have to get them out and we can take over the castle and escape." (Arya, ACOK)

when the northern prisoners are brought to harrenhal arya sees that they equal, if not outnumber, the men holding the castle. the conditions were ripe for harrenhal to be taken and (like in king’s landing) thats exactly what happened. the fact that arya is already paying attention to this kind of stuff at 9/10 years old is pretty significant and it really shows her leadership potential.

#asoiaf nonsense #*yes ned thought he had the gold cloaks but he didn't did he??

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ayato-kisser · 1 year

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synopsis | them with a crush

tags | fluff, headcanons

reader | gender neutral

characters | xiao, kazuha, heizou

xiao

Quite frankly, Xiao doesn't know what to do. He has experiences with many situations- fighting when outnumbered, rescuing mortals, defeating large enemies. Yet, what does one do when he longs to see a particular soul far too often?

It takes quite a while for Xiao to realize what these feelings actually are. In fact, maybe he doesn't quite have a name for them. Someone would need to tell him. He's nervous, but why? Why does his heart rate increase when he sees you? Why does he always find his eye on you? Why is it that he's so quick to act, even on the littlest of things?

He finds himself wanting to take care of your every need- even if he doesn't understand. Doing nothing would simply be wrong, but why was it just you? He watches over Liyue, yet in the nation's entirety, it's just you.

Even if it takes a while for you to figure out, he starts acting like a lover before he understands the meaning of the word lover. It's a little difficult for him to comprehend, that such a mortal emotion such as love was applicable to him, and that it could possibly ever be reciprocated, but if in the case that he is able to call himself your lover, he'd be more than happy to.

kazuha

It comes slowly to Kazuha. The feelings develop slowly, softly. At first, he isn't sure if he likes you- maybe he does, but maybe he's just a bit mistaken. There's one point when he asks himself how much he likes you, but it's a bit difficult for him to answer. It's when you find your way into his poetry that he knows that he's in love.

It isn't the most difficult for Kazuha to be quite romantic. He drops little hints, here and there, doing a little bit more for you all the time. He has quite a way with words, and he hopes his little verses dedicated to you find themselves kept safely in your heart.

Kazuha is a very patient man. He'll wait however long you need, however long it takes for you to know if you love him too. He'll wait, for a better timing and for an answer. He hadn't asked yet, but he hoped there would be a time he could dare to hope to bask in your love.

heizou

Although Heizou is quite perceptive- including other people's feelings- he fails to understand his own to the same level. His genius never fails, but perhaps it's a little slow at understanding his own self. He's sure, but is he really sure? Is he even right? What evidence was there- no evidence, it was all his own thoughts. It wasn't that his own thoughts couldn't be trusted, but it certainly wasn't evidence...

There is no more mysterious case than his own, a case that wasn't truly a case but a whole kind of other mystery. Perhaps it was a challenge- to some extent, it was, but there was more on the line for Heizou.

Simulations and intuition were key. He trusted them; that was his genius. Usually, he was impartial. What happened, happened. That was reality. Yet, he found himself throwing out simulations he didn't like- in fact, he was scared of them. That was how he came to a conclusion: he hoped you liked him too.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #xiao #xiao x reader #kaedehara kazuha #kazuha x reader #shikanoin heizou #heizou x reader #favoniuslibrary

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celandeline · 5 months

Text

Summer of Like // Farleigh Start x OC (17)

I am so incredibly glad that Elspeth put my seat next to Venetia, otherwise I would be completely lost at this dinner. The people I know are vastly outnumbered by the people I don’t, and I feel for Felix, who looks so bored stranded between two men (who I can assume are both named Henry).

“And what’s your name?” The man to my right is already red in the face, and we’re only on the second course of the meal.

“Evelyn.” I say, shifting slightly in my seat to face him.

“Henry.” He says, extending his hand to shake. His palms are sweaty, and I try not to cringe at the way he leaves a film on my hand.

“I figured.” I say, wiping my palm on the skirt of my dress.

He laughs, even though I didn’t really mean it to be all that funny - but drunk people make the best crowd. “I’ve not seen you about before.” He says. “Or maybe I have -” He chuckles. “Parties here do tend to get rather crowded.”

“This is my first time.” I say. “Venetia brought me home for the summer.”

His eyebrows quirk up. “How are you liking it?”

“It’s great.” I say, turning to my plate to spoon a bite of dinner into my mouth. “The house is beautiful.”

“Oh, yes.” He says. “I remember the first time I saw this house - of course, I was very young, then - but I still remember that grandeur feeling. And the people - James’s mother and father were such lovely people.”

“I’m sure.” I say, trading my spoon for my wine glass. It’s white wine tonight, and it goes down easier than the red.

He stops himself to drain his own wineglass. “Really such lovely people, the Cattons.”

“Mm.” My eyes drift along the table until they reach the end, where Elspeth and Farleigh are sat around a corner. Even though Elspeth is talking to him, Farleigh’s eyes are on me as he takes a long draught from his glass. He tilts his head as he sets his cup down, and smirks.

“Truly, it’s a sort of fantasy, being here…”

Mostly prattling to himself at this point, I turn away from Henry and back towards Venetia. Her back is to me though, talking to Oliver.

“No thanks.” Venetia says, sighing. “It’s just so disappointing. You're just another one of his toys.”

“You're upset.” Oliver doesn’t sound sympathetic at all.

“No! Don't worry! I'm used to it, honestly.” She says it so flippantly my heart breaks a little. “He never liked sharing his toys. Even the ones he doesn’t want to play with anymore.” She turns away from him, to face me with a sad sort of smile.

“Venetia…” Oliver hisses. “Venetia…”

She pays him no mind. “Hi Evie.”

I smile. “Hi baby.”

She drops her voice, and picks up her wineglass. “He’s such a bore, my god.” She flicks her hair over her shoulder towards Oliver. “As soon as Felix says no, that’s it. Done.” She glances across the table. “Felix hasn’t spoken to me since yesterday morning.”

“He’ll come around.” I say. “You’re his sister.”

“I know.” She sighs. “Still - there goes my summer entertainment.”

I roll my eyes. I don’t believe for a second that she’s going to stop batting her eyelashes at him. She’ll take a break, sure, but she couldn’t even come up with a word to describe the way he gave her head - she’s going to at least try again.

“What about you?” She says. “What about last night?”

“What about last night?” I say.

“Farleigh was on your bed.”

“To gossip.” I say.

“To gossip,” She mocks, rolling her eyes. “Without me? Alone, in your room, when you’d just gotten out of the shower? Gossip.”

“Yes, gossip.” I say. “You know about his weird hate-boner for Oliver.”

“I know about his boner-boner for you.” Venetia says. Her eyes skip away from mine, past me, to where Farleigh is sitting.

“We almost kissed.” I say, hushed. “I think. I don’t know.”

She bites her lip as she grins. “Go on.” Sure, Oliver might be too scared to keep their summer romance going, but that doesn’t mean she can’t doubly invest herself in mine to keep herself entertained.

“We almost kissed that night on the roof, too, I think.” I say. “I don’t know, he’s not… most guys would just do it, you know? He keeps just waiting.”

“And you haven’t kissed him because?” She asks.

“I’m kind of enjoying the tension.” I admit, a little sheepishly.

“Me too.” She says, grinning. “It’s like my own soap opera happening in my house, starring people that I already know and love. I’m so glad that I brought you home, Evie, really.”

“So glad that I could make your summer more interesting.” I say, truthfully.

“You’ll have to tell me if he’s a good kisser, when you do end up snogging.” She says. “I’ve always wanted to know who’s the best kisser out of the three of us - everyone says Felix is quite bad, and I think I’m alright, but I don’t know anyone that’s kissed Farleigh to check.”

“If we end up snogging.” I say, mocking her accent.

“Oh, shove off, New Yawk.” She grins. “And if you don’t at least kiss him, I’ll be furious.”

“Well, if you’ll be furious.” I say, taking another draught of my wine.

“Please,” She snorts. “I know you want to.”

“But-”

“And I already know what you’re going to say, ‘what if we kiss and then it’s boring’ - it’s Farleigh. You can say many things about Farleigh, but you can’t say he’s boring.” She gives me a pointed look.

I grin. “You know me so well.”

She smiles back at me. “I do, don’t I?”

I glance back to the end of the table where Farleigh sits. He’s leaned over towards Elspeth, saying something that I can’t make out, but like he can sense my gaze shifting, his eyes meet mine, and he smiles. I return his grin, and take another sip of wine, licking the excess off my lips.

< previous part | next part >

#farleigh start x oc #farleigh start x reader #saltburn #farleigh start #farleigh x reader #saltburn x reader

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stromuprisahat · 4 months

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I've been reading a lot of criticism about Alina lately, and while I agree that she is a shitty protagonist, but the main problem I have with saying that she is the true villain of the story is that... no one told her? No one talked to her about Grisha persecution? Yeah, we hear about it vaguely in TGT, but it isn't until SoC when they find the burnt corpses and the kefta mural that it truly starts to sink in. It's not until you read DitW that you realize how desperate the situation was (and still is, in some ways). It's not until the Nikolai Duology that the true horror of the Shu experiments is brought to us. We see nothing of it in TGT, so maybe... Alina just doesn't know?

Yeah, sure, she has been around Grisha and is one of them now, but hear me out, it's like white people who say they don't have a problem with POC but they don't realize that it doesn't negate the fact that POC still face racism from others. Add to the fact that nowhere do we see newspapers and as an orphan Alina is definitely less aware of social justice situations than your average white guy- how is she supposed to know? All that she sees is the luxury of the Grisha- their tents their bulletproof clothes, etc.

Just a thought about how the story might have gone different if instead of the crows, it was Alina who found the three burnt bodies while chasing the stag and had to put one of them out of their misery. And how the story might have changed if Alina truly understood the situation.

I'm almost halfway through Siege and Storm, so I’ll talk from this perspective.

I’d say it’s the same issue as anything with Alina- she doesn’t want to know.

She’s almost murdered by a guy yelling “witch” in her face. Funnily enough- at this point it’s still in English (Ravkan), not drüsje, but witch:

I twisted and kicked as the yellow-bearded man grabbed hold of my legs. I looked desperately down to the glen, but the soldiers and Grisha below me were fighting for their lives, clearly outnumbered and unable to come to my aid. I struggled and thrashed, but the Fjerdan was too strong. He climbed on top of me, using his knees to pin my arms to my sides, and reached for his knife.

“I’ll gut you right here, witch,” he snarled in a heavy Fjerdan accent.

She gets safely to Little Palace, mentiones this whole experience twice and that’s it. It wouldn’t even take that much to get back to this topic- next chapter she learns such attack isn’t anything unusual for Grisha:

“ ... Other countries don’t treat their Grisha so well as Ravka,” he said grimly. “The Fjerdans burn us as witches, and the Kerch sell us as slaves. The Shu Han carve us up seeking the source of our power. ... ”

Alina sees there’s a difference made between Grisha and other Ravkans, but never connects the dots. It doesn’t concern her, she’s doing the same after all.

She isn’t interested in situation, not only the wide picture, but more personal perspective- we don’t see her ask her “not-friends” anything about them. Their lives, families... You won’t hear a scary story if you won’t ask or listen...

She got study materials on Grisha history, but that's just that. Words on a paper. Something she repeats when she remembers she's supposed to be hunted, although the reasons don't quite click.

She goes from being prejudiced herself to staying that way. Why would she change? She went from denying being Grisha to being Saint and that’s a completely different thing. The only person she truly cares about is an otkazat’sya, so why would she consider wrongness of slurs and disdain?

She was told, but the Darkling "never tells the truth" and she doesn’t feel the need to ask anyone else.

She hears First Army soldiers insult Ivan for refusing to share information with them, and doesn't blink an eye.

She hears about First Army slaughtering Grisha, and thinks "good, I'd do the same".

She only cares about Grisha being potentially mistreated as long as it's the Darkling harming them (Genya's punishment, Grishenka in R&R).

When forced to face other harm partially caused by Grisha status of slaves in Ravkan society, the circumstances allow her to ignore that aspect (Genya's abuse).

I don’t think she needs anything more explicit. She’d just find the way to blame the Darkling, or forget it ever happened as soon as it was out of her sight.

Burned Grisha corpses?

Some foreign tradition. Or barbecue gone wrong...

Just look at her reaction to Harshaw's story in R&R:

I thought of the dream the Darkling had once had, that we might be Ravkans and not just Grisha. He’d tried to make a safe place for our kind, maybe the only one in the world. I understand the desire to remain free. Was that why Harshaw kept fighting? Why he’d chosen to stay? He must have shared the Darkling’s dream once. Had he given its care over to me?

Zoya's the one, to note how fucked up it is. Alina's concern is possible responsibility. There's no horror, there's no resolution to take over Aleksander's efforts. The goal remains the same- hunt down the Firebird, kill the Darkling, destroy the Fold.

Even when talking as Grisha, Alina doesn't act like one.

#reply #Alina Starkov #grishanalytical #S&B Chapter 4 #S&B Chapter 5 #S&S Chapter 1 #S&B Chapter 21 #S&S Chapter 10 #R&R Chapter 13 #anti Grisha sentiments #self centred and paranoid #Grishaverse #Grisha trilogy #anti Leigh Bardugo #anti Alina Starkov #but not really

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shawty-writes-a-little · 1 year

Text

From Eden 2.

Part 1 Part2 Part3 Part4

Darkling x brekker!reader

Word count: 3k+

Warnings: fake deaths? Aleksander? He comes w his warnings S2 SPOILERS

Summary: The brekkers aren’t well with expressing concern without scowls and Aleksander haunts her dreams…but is it a dream?

An: ITS MY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!!!!!

—

From what y/n could gather of passage of time through the light of lamp lit street to sun rays, it was nearly about two days she was locked up where she was. When she was taken away she couldn’t gather where she was, but by the looks of the place from outside it seemed like a work space and where she was locked in was like a storage unit. Not difficult for Kaz to figure out either, pekka wouldn’t keep her at any obvious locations, Nina used one of wylan’s creations to help unlock the numbered storage under Pekka’s name which Jesper found out about. Nina escaped alongside y/n as Kaz outwitted pekka to escape the office of paperworks.

Everyone was quite out of state when they reached the cemetery, a certain new safe space that Kaz held. Even the wraith was hurt of the fight from the mad man. The entire walk to the shed at cemetery neither of them said anything, a sharp frown on both the brekker siblings’ faces.

As Y/n sat on the small of a seat inside the shed next to a lantern Kaz leaned to her level and roughly with his gloved hand moved his sister’s face from the jaw a bit to see her injuries, the punches and supposed beating from pekka’s men, it hurt more than Kaz’s pride. That was his family, the one person he had sole responsibility over to not get hurt and that’s what ended up happening. Being the man he was, always his expression unreadable, however as of now he gritted his teeth and called our “Nina.” And backed away for her to heal y/n. It seemed he was furious, he often let what he felt show on his face.

The small of the shed lit with three lanterns fell silent as Nina tended to Inej and y/n. Y/n gestured for Inej to be looked at rather immediately because her wounds were fresh and deeper whilst she had been quite alright pressing against most her wounds and the cuts on her face. “Two days…” Kaz breathed “Two days you have been back in ketterdam and you get kidnapped. Your favourite sport it seems?” Kaz taunted his sister, everyone had had quite the day and Kaz wasn’t one to point fingers for casualties and mistakes but his fear of loosing his sister resulted into suppressed anger of why she was lost in the first place.

“Oh?” y/n scoffed “Why I am really sorry Kaz…I am really sorry of all the bad blood you have with the entire population of ketterdam got to me. Let’s see next time when you’re outnumbered by a group of muscular men twice your size and the whole stadwatch apparently whe—“

“I would never end up the way you did.” Kaz stated interrupting her midway. Inej and Jesper shared a look with another that read how much they dreaded being here for the siblings quarrel.

“Surely.” Y/n nodded “You most definitely would’ve ended up worse than me because you are far more dislikable than I am.” Y/n added with a shrug, with that Nina snorted a bit as she continues to concentrate on inej’s wounds.

“You were placed in the smallest of room, most undisguised underground place we could find yet you managed to get yourself kidnapped!” Kaz replied running a frustrated hand through this hair “Quite the talent you have!”

“I wasn’t even on the streets…I was walking the hallway of the shady underground hotel you placed me in and the stadwatch were patrolling inside the hotel could you imagine?” She replied defending her circumstances. She wasn’t even aware of the weight of the problems on them by pekka at the moment so she truly did not believe strolling the small hallway to clear her mind would do any harm.

“What part of not to leave your room did you not understand?” Kaz replied raising his brow, more so agitated now.

“You did not tell me the stadwatch was after us, you did not tell me pekka was after us, you did not tell me about the crow club! You never do and that’s your problem you never explain any circumstances to me! You simply expect me to be the seven year old again in some cottage where you’d put bricks by the door and tell me not to leave?” Y/n replied, growing up after Jordie, Kaz picked up on his traits of keeping their siblings safe in ketterdam. The last place for children to be alone and safe but somehow Kaz managed from shelters under long stairways to footpaths to abandoned cottages every unfortunate place until he got where he was. It was a difficult long childhood of ‘y/n don’t open the door for anyone but me’ ‘don’t peek through the window’ ‘don’t answer if anyone is at the door’ ‘hide here if someone breaks in’. It was difficult but the two Brekkers grew up in the time and made it out of the hard childhood. It was very nerve wrecking and full of anxiety for Kaz to leave his sister alone whilst he worked here and there so the two could eat and frightening for little y/n to wait in an empty cold place hoping her brother could make it back. However things had changed by far better for them over the time and as of now y/n hated how Kaz viewed her as the vulnerable responsibility of his again but in truth when Y/n was kidnapped Kaz just felt like that child again anxious and worried the whole day if his sister was alright. “If I am that much of a responsibility and a bother to you why didn’t you just leave me on the other side of the fold!”

“It’s almost as if your stupidity spreads because I truly regret not doing so!” Kaz replied with a scoff as he left the room and after a long awkward silence Wylan and Jesper followed him out too.

As Nina wrapped up Inej both of them shared a sympathetic look to y/n aware that kaz’s last words must’ve stung a bit but y/n’s face wasn’t phased at the slightest. She had known Kaz and all his outbursts all her life, not that it didn’t hurt at the moment she was familiar with everything hurting she almost didn’t care to encounter with his words. With Aleksander’s passing, she was simply numb at the time, Nina began to heal y/n’s wounds and her cuts but all she could think of was Aleksander. Every moment spent with him flashing across her mind however much she wanted it to stop. She shifted in her place for Nina to work on her wounds and her touch took her back to certain moments.

“You are exaggerating!” Y/n exclaimed as Aleksander placed her on their bed gently, quite the upset frown on his face as he didn’t utter a word. There had been a certain casualty on one of the second army bases and y/n had gotten hurt, not something of a large extent yet Aleksander was unsettled far more than she was.

“Told you not to.” He muttered in a hushed quite cross-with-you way. He crouched on his knees by the side of the bed to attend the wounds on her face again after the healers had done so already. Y/n was aware she couldn’t ask him not to, he treated the slightest of scratch on her like his own. “Does that hurt?” He asked flatly as he gently rubbed the ointment by cut.

“I am alright Aleksander truly I understand you worry-“ she tried to explain to him but he wasn’t having any of it.

“You were bleeding y/n you are anything but alright.” Aleksander said interrupting her, “I just don’t understand what was the need for that huh? The troop could have handled themselves, what if you would’ve been injured far worse? What if the healers weren’t around to get you so fast?”

“Well I am not injured far worse and the healers were around.” Y/n stated with a shrug and a suppressed chuckle escaped her as much as she wanted to appear serious about her well being to Aleksander she couldn’t help but find his made up worse possible scenarios excessive.

“It isn’t funny y/n!” Aleksander exclaimed. “It wouldn’t be funny if you were seriously injured and I wouldn’t be funny if I had lost you alright?” He spoke agitated standing up as he turned away from her, getting difficult to look in the eyes of his love realising he’d almost lost her.

“Aleksander…” Y/n exhaled softly and stood up taking a small step to reach him and tried to make him face her by placing her hands by his shoulders but his firmly did not, “Aleksander look at me.” She asked him and forcefully got him to turn around to face her. “I am alright, flesh and bone. I am in front of you I am alright—I understand your worry I truly do but if you worry about the littlest of injuries on me you—“

“How can I not? My entire world lies within you!” He sighed and took her hands in his, he knew she wasn’t wrong with whatever she was promoting to say but at the same time they wasn’t anything she could say that would ever get him to not worry, ever get him to sleep alright any night she is away from her on army bases, “I don’t even want to go that far but everytime you end up in some casualty the mere thought of loosing you…just makes me-I don’t even want to think of a world where you don’t exist. It’s pointless existence, it’s dark, it’s excruciatingly lonely and with you it’s not so I apologise if you feel like I overbear you with my worry but is it not possible for a man drunk on love to hold his beloved as if he’s holding the whole world?”

Aleksander had said that day, where was he now? Where was he now to hold his world? Made it an immense thing for never having to be in a world without her did he not consider the same for her? True love consumes one’s soul, he made every whim and every inconvenience fade away…then he fades away himself. A place he’d never come back from. How could he simply just leave her for herself, she hoped for the circumstances to be reversed, her to die for once whilst he would be alive to deal with the hurt. The painful reality.

“Y/n!” Nina exclaimed pulling her out of her thoughts as she blinked her eyes for a moment and looked back at the heartrender, still solemn and neutral as if the most fond memories of her love didn’t haunt her mind, a trait like kaz’s…never let it show on your face. “Where did you just leave for a second saints…” she exhaled and finished the last of wrapping on her wounds. “There…that’s done! Are you alright?” Nina asked her and shared a look with Inej, they both saw how she looked confusedly out of place.

“Yes, doesn’t hurt.” Y/n replied with a shrug keeping her answer short, staring off into the stone wall.

“But are you alright?” Inej asked furthering Nina’s previous question with a different tone, she meant to look out for kaz’s sister just as much as she would for him. She is all family he has left, at the end of the day the void of family was always so heavy “Don’t pay much mind to what Kaz said, he didn’t mean it.” Inej said trying to console y/n who let on to be alright but was upset and seemed visibly annoyed at kaz’s remarks. If only she’d known.

“He is right though…I should’ve stayed at that side of the fold.” I should’ve stayed with him, I should’ve gotten a proper goodbye. All those morose thoughts occupied her head yet if she didn’t say it herself nobody would suspect it in their wildest dreams what she had indulged in. For now she felt it pointless to tell anyone either ways, Kaz would find her stupid given he already did and the others would show their pity and try hard to be sorry for her loss yet her grief was her own. Not as if their sympathy could bring him back and not as if their words would make her feel better. It was all her own.

—

On further days Kaz had y/n stay in wylan’s little laboratory given he had a clean slate out of stadwatch record and the crows were subjected to check in time to time so it was the safest place he could arrange at the moment, on the little couch in the damp laboratory of Wylan’s, Kaz had crouched to the ground strapping some knives on her sister’s boots “Oh how smart is that Kaz if someone were to attack me it would just take me about ten minutes to kneel, undo my boots, undo the knots on the knife, unsheathe the knife and stab them! How clever! Given just keeping a knife in my hand would take me about a second but why risk that? We’ve to ensure I end up almost dead again so you get to—“ y/n was about to taunt him sarcastically even more as Kaz tightly secured the knives by her boot and handed her one in her hands.

“I borrowed these from Inej.” He said and placed another one on her side “The ones on your boots are back up knives, keep these handy…” he said pointing to the ones he just placed by her sides and stood up with his cane back on his feet, “You are aware how to use them?” Kaz asked, he knew she was but he wanted to mock her on how he had to ask to ensure that. Typical sibling way.

“I don’t know I think I need to recall…maybe I can try the pointy end of knife on that Sokol river eyebrow of yours as practise?” She snapped at him turning the sheathed knife between her fingers.

“My eyebrows are perfectly normal.” He scoffed turning away from the couch she was sitting on and gave a nod to wylan as he left after giving him some instructions of what more he’d wanted of his lab sorcery.

—

After a few visits from Jesper and Inej here and there Wylan’s rants about certain chemicals and portions as he worked finally tired y/n as she dozed off on the couch on the underground laboratory. In her dream she found herself in council chambers. Council chambers she was familiar with it was a second army tent, dark outside with a lantern in her hand. She saw herself walk inside the tent as a voice called out in the dream, “My love…” said he as he walked out of the shadows. Aleksander.

For a moment she saw herself in the dream just pause, considering everything she was considering at the moment, throwing something at him—herself perhaps, shouting at him, crushing him for leaving her, “Aleksander.” She breathed as he walked across the table to her closer proximity.

“My my…” he spoke grimacing as he softly placed his hand by her cheeks to examine her cuts “Look at what they did to you.” He said to y/n as she stared at him, what hurt far worse was seeing him in her dreams knowing this is the only place she could do so.

“You left me…” her voice trailed off ignoring her remark as she looked away from him not meeting his gaze. “After everything…you made the selfish choice, you’ve left. You’ve left this world leaving it for me to exist alone…without you.” She complained, she did this in her head all day, this was yet another fragment of it just in her sleep she gathered. Her mind trying to comfort her, visualising the voice of her complains.

Aleksander took her hands in his gently, his touch, his touch felt so real, so longed as if she had been home for the first time but in the back of her mind she was aware this wasn’t real “You took off the wedding ring…” he pointed out with a hushed tone, not upset nor angry just solemn understandingly sad tone.

“You abandoned me…” y/n repeated the subject she brought up, she took her hands out of his and gripped the collar of his kefta “You abandoned me! You died…you made promised-you-I loved you..I-I love you! And you aren’t here you died you’ve left me and-“

“I am here aren’t I?” Aleksander reminded her gently bringing her face to look at him, look at him in the eyes. With a soft smile he tucked the strand of hair behind her ear, he seemed his relaxed self, as if this was one of the serene evenings at little palace.

“No you’re not…” she said letting out a dejected huff and tears prickled her eyes. Arguing with her own mind is what this would be given it was her dream yet Aleksander seemed so…himself.

“I am.” He corrected her “I am right here for you…I-I wouldn’t ever leave you. Didn’t I promise you that?”

“You promised me and yet you left…” she repeated as if to herself, getting her mind to confirm over and over he is gone and to accept that. “You…why are you doing this?” She said moving away and rubbed her eyes, “The ghost of you is haunting my dreams…” she groaned cursing her mind playing tricks on her.

“Y/n listen to me…” This time he firmly placed his hands on her shoulders and made him face her “I haven’t left you. I’m not gone…” with that he simply vanished and y/n breathed heavily jolting out of her dream. It was a dream…It was a dream? It took herself a few moments to come to terms with that herself and get used to the surroundings as she found Jesper and wylan by her side staring.

“Are you alright?” Wylan asked as she jumped out of her seat on the couch, baffled but settled into reality her heart raced so fast.

“You look like you were being chased by wild dogs in an open field!” Jesper commented at her frantic state but she was too out of mind to register that.

“What does that even mean?” Wylan asked Jesper quite confused at his phrasing.

“What like you haven’t ever been chased by dogs in an open field?” Jesper asked in a matter-of-factly manner.

“You could’ve just said she looked like she ran a lot what does being chased by dogs even have anything to do with this?” Wylan asked raising a brow, both of them indulged in petty debate as y/n panted leaning forward on Wylan’s desk for support “Ah don’t go near that!” He exclaimed as he stood up and moves the sizzling portion rack away from her, “Still are you alright? It looks like it was a bad dream…”

“You can talk to us about it if you want to.” Jesper offered her with a comforting smile.

“No-no—I uh-I am fine I just need some air.” Y/n replied out of breath and rushed to leave the lab leaving Jesper and Wylan confused and concerned.

—

HI HIIIII I turn 16 today

It’s my yearly tradition to post a piece on my bday and I have had the most hectic week ever but I made this possible regardless please let me know what you think <3

Tags: @gwenspter @mori1b2bpad @budugu @duchcess @sloppyzengarden

#general kirigan x reader #darkling fanfiction #darkling x reader #the darkling x y/n #aleksander x reader #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova #general kirigan x you #the darkling x you

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wordstro · 3 months

Text

[6] game of thrones-inspired au + prince hongjoong + "i loved you."

a/n: 6/6- the final part! 10k words, setting-typical violence, abusive dynamics, power dynamics, cheating, violence! murder! implied character death! (oops)

there was a light knock at your door.

yeosang stood at the door with a bundle of terrycloth in his arms, his silver armor dulled under dim candlelight. yeosang's eyes flickered over your face before he dangled the wrapped bundle in front of you, his armor and the bundle clinking softly in the ensuing silence.

"the kitchen's finest wine and fried sugar dough," yeosang announced, bowing his head, "made to your grace's liking, i hope."

you laughed; you could not help it. you propped the door open with one of the heavy gold corner vases, before you laid out your cloak on the stone floor and took a seat. yeosang was already carefully placing the flagons of wine and fried dough on the cloth he'd brought. the wine was a blood red, dornish red of course. it made your heart flutter in a way you had not allowed it in a while.

you watched as yeosang placed his helmet next to his knee. his blond hair spilled over his shoulders, half of it pulled into an unkempt knot at the top of his head. yeosang had always been beautiful. to younger you, his beauty was the same as a snake's, with lovely colors that glistened under the sun. he obtained many wreaths declaring him as a favorite during tourneys. he snuck away with people the few times you'd attended the drinking afterwards.

even now, so clearly tired from his long days as a kingsguard, he was a sight for sore eyes. he still was very much a snake, but snakes lived in the deserts of dorne. it reminded you of home.

he poured you a glass and situated himself at the door hinge, half turned to you, as he always did.

you sighed, "when will you join me?"

"oh sweet thing," yeosang rolled his eyes, "you're consistent, if anything, at least."

you snorted, and yeosang's lips quirked into a small smile.

the wine was dark as blood when you wiped a drip of it from your mouth, your fingertips bloodied by it. it was a strongwine, sweet and the smallest bit sour, warming your blood despite the cold stone floors.

you wiped the wine on your robes, but it still stained your fingers. dark red. like blood.

you asked, "when did hongjoong leave?"

you took another swig.

yeosang answered, "yesterday, at daybreak."

"oh," you said, "he left quickly."

yeosang nodded, his lips pressing into a thin line.

you drew your knees close. the wine made your skin warm. it jumbled your words. loosened your mouth. this was a routine between the two of you, though.

"do you think he'll really come back?" your voice crumbled at the last word, like the sugar crumbling off the untouched fried bits of dough laid haphazardly before you.

yeosang never answered these kinds of questions. you'd grown used to it.

yeosang turned, however, to fully face you, his back to the hall.

he said, "i think i shall drink with you today, sweet thing."

you'd blinked in surprise, drawn out from the heaviness in your chest. "really?"

yeosang's lion-like eyes curled into something softer, kind almost. perhaps, it was pity, but the wine made it into something else. he nodded, "really."

you watched as drank from your flagon, throwing his head back to empty it. dark blood red dripped down the corners of his mouth. he wiped it away with the back of his hand, his armor clinking loudly.

you frowned when he grinned at you, his grin too wide. you said, "did you have to down the whole thing?"

yeosang scowled, "i am the one risking my honor for this. i deserve more than a sip."

"you truly want me to believe you have honor, ser yeosang?"

"fine, i won't argue with that," yeosang snorted. "however i did risk quite a lot sneaking this up here."

"surely the great ser yeosang can sneak past a handful of servants? besides i'm sure the rats far outnumber the people after everyone fled. who would you have to sneak past?"

yeosang paused, raising a brow. he tilted his head in that curious way of his, "what makes you think everyone fled?"

"my windows overlook the main entrance," you reminded him, nodding to the barred windows.

yeosang's brows furrowed. all he said was, "the king is still here, your grace."

"ah yes, the mad king." you'd scoffed, rolling your eyes. you leaned back onto the heels of your hands, appraising yeosang's guarded posture as you frowned, "no one else is here but him, i assume."

"it is true, some of the nobles have joined the rebellion. others have left king's landing," yeosang gulped down a much smaller mouthful of wine, his brows furrowed, "but the kingsguard remain."

"only because they are obliged to." you mumbled, "frankly, i am surprised the prince did not take you with him."

"the king would not allow it," yeosang said. his lips turned down into a small frown.

you mulled over his words, "because the king does not wish to provide lord kang an opportunity for his heir to return to him?"

it was a question you already knew the answer to.

yeosang's snicker was unamused, "the king thinks very highly of me, it seems."

"a sure sign he's succumbed fully to his madness."

yeosang let out a soft laugh. you'd heard it only a few times during your stay in king's landing. it was soft, surprised even, a guffaw more than anything. you could not help but smile.

after a beat, yeosang said, "mingi is here, too."

for a moment, your heart ached for them. ever since you stepped into the red keep, you saw a companionship between hongjoong, yeosang, and mingi that you'd often been envious of. you were always an outsider looking in. and when san and jongho visited, it was as if you were pushed further into the peripheral. even when san courted you, you remained watching, observing. jongho and hongjoong would exchange silent grins over san's head during lunches. hongjoong would pat san on the back and pull him into a long hug every time he greeted san when he returned to the red keep. even during the time when hongjoong ignored you and made sly digs towards san, there was still an air of camaraderie there. hongjoong laughing with yeosang and mingi during your studies. how highly mingi spoke of hongjoong. how yeosang spoke of hongjoong. it was as though despite the flaws and horrible bits, hongjoong was still theirs to love. and that was what it was, was it not? love. you saw it clear as day, when hongjoong confronted you for using mingi. he loved them in a way he never loved you, in a way you'd never love him, in a way you had not had the chance to love your brothers. and they loved him the same way. they were boys together.

but now hongjoong had gone to the north, and yeosang and mingi were left behind in this cage, and jongho and san were leading a rebellion headed your way, to oust hongjoong and his father from the throne. they were no longer boys.

your heart tore at the thought. somehow, this all affected you too, despite how avidly outside of them you were. you were always an outsider looking in, but, still, you were a kid with them, too, for a bit.

"what went wrong?"

"the mad king was always on thin ice, but...i believe everyone hoped hongjoong could be different. had it been a different lord that night," yeosang's hum was thoughtful, "that trust in hongjoong could have survived the mad king's reign. unfortunately, lord lim was the first nail in his coffin, and seonghwa is his last."

the memory of lord lim tied to a post, going up in flames, returned to you, clear as day. you'd never forget it. not his cries, nor the way hongjoong whispered dracarys, nor the fact that you did not stop him. he'd called you horrible names, upset because the mad king beheaded his nephew. the lims, you remembered, were one of many houses that had gathered with jongho during his brothel visits, according to lady irene. now you knew why he'd gathered in the brothels. you'd been so engrossed in your own sole position in this game of thrones, in communicating with your brothers and merely establishing ways to get information, that you had not even thought to use that information for your own well-being. perhaps, if you did, you would not have been left here to die.

"lord lim? why lord lim?" you asked.

yeosang laughed, but there was no amusement there, "jongho and san regard lord lim as something of a second father. they grew up in the riverlands, right alongside seonghwa."

"oh."

you'd stood alongside hongjoong as he coaxed his dragon to burn lord lim at the stake. i shall join you, you said. hongjoong had looked back at you, and you had felt glee when hongjoong had whispered to his dragon to breathe fire. you were complicit, not only by marriage but by actions. hongjoong knew this. he knew, yet he left you behind.

and seonghwa?

yeosang's jaw tightened when you met his gaze once more. his pretty face twisted with scorn. he said, "jongho adores seonghwa. they say hongjoong stole him from winterfell. plucked him from the castle on dragonback. we always teased jongho that he would have started a war for seonghwa."

yeosang's shoulders rose and fell in a silent chuckle.

you thought of seonghwa, of what you'd said to him. you were complicit there too. lord lim and seonghwa. both nails in hongjoong's coffin.

"do you believe what they say?"

yeosang shrugged, "seonghwa always did what he pleased. i don't know what to believe. it is merely speculation."

you let his words sink in as you took another sip of wine. yeosang's cheeks were flushed pink with alcohol, and you felt your stomach churn at finally receiving the information you'd been long wishing for. perhaps, rotting away in these chambers without knowing what was happening beyond the red keep was a good thing, because now all you could do was try to reconcile the fact that you were in fact left for dead here. perhaps this was punishment for standing with hongjoong, for using mingi the way you had, for allowing the jealous beast inside you to lash out at park seonghwa. for daring to play the game of thrones.

you looked up at yeosang, his brown eyes meeting yours, lingering. you held the flagon at eye level. yeosang reached for it without hesitation. you watched as he took several gulps of wine, blood red droplets staining his lips.

the strongwine clouded your head, and loosened your tongue, and perhaps if you were in different circumstances, you would have found your ease around kang yeosang embarrassing.

yeosang loosened the ties to his armor, placing it next to his helmet, his white cotton tunic crisp even in the dim lighting.

yeosang must have had the same thought as you - his eyes met yours, and there was a moment of sheepishness there you'd never seen from him before. you shook your head, tone conspiring, "i won't tell. who is there for me to tell anyway?"

yeosang snickered, an ugly snort of a thing that echoed through the empty hall, through your chambers. you only took a drink from the flagon between you both.

the silence between you was melancholic. yeosang leaned back against the door hinge, studying you. under his scrutiny, you lifted your chin. you never did like feeling small, studied, around kang yeosang.

perhaps the wine made you bold, or perhaps it was the loneliness. you leaned in, and you said, "what are you thinking?"

yeosang shrugged, his eyes flickered between yours. after a beat of silence, he said, "in another life, we would have wedded."

he was an option of the queen's, long long ago. it was quite a thought. your cheeks burned from the wine. "a terrible life to live, i think."

"yes," yeosang smiled, and it was a soft thing. sincere, even. his voice was softer. "i think so, too."

something churned at the pit of your stomach when yeosang did not lean away or avert his gaze. you thought him quite pretty like this, messy hair and cotton tunic and flushed cheeks and wine-stained lips and glassy eyes.

he reached out then, and it was not a hesitant touch, as you were so used to. his thumb brushed along your cheek, and even that single touch stirred the restless fire in your heart. yeosang's eyes remained fixed on your face, as if he were studying your reactions. he breathed, "what kind of life would you have liked to live then?"

"the kind where i feel loved without having to beg for it," you admitted.

yeosang's brows furrowed, and you'd blinked when he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your mouth. he was warm and tasted of honeyed strongwine, and you returned his kiss only to feel something other than the overwhelming weight of your worries. it was all teeth and wine and imperfection, off kilter and a blur as you curled your fingers in his soft hair and he tugged you closer, his calloused fingers digging into your skin. the wine spilled between you, but neither of you cared to pull away. you only laughed as he pulled you closer in a poor attempt to avoid the spill. your skin tingled where he touched you, leaving a trail of goosebumps. you were starved of touch and warmth, and he seemed the same way, and you knew you should have pushed him away, but you'd long abandoned such things. you felt the rush of fire, and you remembered your age again.

you pushed him back only to drag your fingers down the front of his crisp white tunic. he made noises as pretty as you pressed another kiss to his lips, as his fingers fumbled with the ties of your tunic and found warm skin. you were something-and-twenty again, on the verge of counting the many moons you've missed, and this was not a battle between the two of you, neither was it a game, it was merely the two of you moving imperfectly, nails digging into skin, kisses wherever either could reach. it was merely feeling wanted without having to ask or worry.

at least until your arm knocked against his helmet. you yelped against his mouth, surprised more than in pain. the resulting clang was deafening, too loud, bouncing off the stone walls. you'd blinked when yeosang jumped, sitting back, pushing you away, his eyes wide, his cheeks flushed as red as his lips. your heart stilled as his gaze tore from you to his discarded armor. clarity washed over you like a cold bath.

you fell back onto your palms, your breath as heavy as his, and you watched yeosang close his eyes. his throat bobbed as he swallowed. his tunic had slipped from his shoulders, his hair a mess, and his skin blotchy and red. you were sure you looked the same.

your heart continued to pound in your chest as yeosang dragged his hands through his messy blonde hair and finally, finally, opened his eyes.

slowly, he murmured, voice rough, tone regretful, "i took an oath to never lay with another. i am no oathbreaker."

you let out a breathless laugh, "you strike me as the type to break oaths and laugh, yeosang."

yeosang sighed, shaking his head.

you dragged your hands through your hair, too, straightening up as you took in the mess you both made, the spilled wine and your disheveled appearances and the lingering tension settling over both your shoulders, a sharp dissonance in the camaraderie you'd managed to salvage in all this.

"we've made quite a mess." yeosang whispered.

it was supposed to be a serious thing, buthe sounded exasperated, annoyed, and you laughed at the absurdity of it all.

after a beat, he burst into laughter, a musical sound that cleared the tension swiftly. never did you think you'd find any kind of solace in kang yeosang's company, no matter how brief, yet here you were.

~.~.~.~.~

"did you have any dreams? aside from being a knight?" you asked yeosang. you laid sprawled on your back, peering up at yeosang as he stood guard outside your door. the ale was empty and you should have been asleep. he'd dragged you from the door to your bed and helped you lie down, but you were now laying with your head hanging from the side, peering at an upside down yeosang who only rolled his eyes at your question.

yeosang leaned against the door to your chambers, body half-in and half-out.

you flipped onto your stomach on the bed, and you drawled, drunker than you'd wanted to be, "indulge me, ser yeosang."

yeosang laughed, a tinkle of a thing. he said, "i've always dreamt of being a knight."

"oh?" you'd snorted, gesturing around you, "is it everything you'd imagined it'd be?"

"of course," yeosang nodded, "terribly annoying royalty and all."

you rested your head on your palm as you looked at yeosang. you said, "my dream was to be kind. i'd told my brothers a long time ago."

yeosang turned to look at you, his brows furrowed.

"what?"

he said, "you never talk about your brothers."

you shrugged, "it is easier not to."

"i dreamt of being a chivalrous knight," yeosang said after a beat, "the kind from the stories who protects innocents."

"really?"

"it was a childish dream," yeosang muttered, turning away to peer down the empty hallway.

"i think it's a nice dream. you're already quite close to achieving it."

you could see the corners of yeosang's mouth lift into a smile. he did not look at you as he said, "yours is, too. you're quite kind, sweet thing."

your cheeks felt hot, but you shook your head, "i am not."

"you are," yeosang met your gaze once more, his expression reassuring. "you try to be, at least, and that's all that matters."

~.~.~.~.~

you were something-and-twenty when king's landing's sun was bright and lively, the air clean, and the sunlight through the barred window warm against your skin. it reminded you of sunspear.

neither you nor yeosang spoke of the kiss since that night. you'd both returned to the usual routine - yeosang brought you snacks and drinks when he was assigned outside your chambers, and you sat at the door, and you both talked. he was the company you craved all this time. you did not love him, but you liked his company, and you hated that you'd only had the chance to figure it out now.

the only difference, you noticed, was that yeosang would sometimes recount stories of his time at casterly rock - his brother and sister he seemed to adore, his mother who had passed giving birth to his younger brother, the mischief he used to get up to with san in the gardens. they were brief moments told here and there, when the orange he brought was too tart or when the feeling of knowing you were doomed caught up to you and you did not want to speak to him, or when you asked him a question that he truly did not seem to have the answer to. you hadn't been able to piece together much of yeosang's past, but he gave you enough to know it was his strange way of reconciling with you - perhaps it was an apology for the other night.

he certainly never brought strongwine to your door anymore.

you sat on the floor beneath the warm sun streaming through your barred windows.

someone knocked on the door. you called for them to enter.

yeosang stood at the threshold of your chambers, his helmet on and his stance rigid.

something was wrong. you could sense it his stance, his quiet, the way his helmet obscured his face. he did not lean against the door as he sometimes would, or remove his armor and let himself relax.

"is everything all right?" you asked.

there was a long pause. even the warm sun felt wrong on your skin.

yeosang shifted from foot to foot, his armor clinking softly. he said, "the kitchens have ran out of your favorites."

you'd blinked at him, "it's okay. i don't mind."

yeosang nodded, the movement brisk. "i'll be outside then."

he shut the door quietly behind him, and you thought perhaps the doom of being left behind in this gilded cage had caught up to him finally as well. you let him be that day.

~.~.~.~.~

the servants did not come with dinner, as they always did right after the sun set.

you stared at the door, the hairs at the back of your neck standing on end.

yeosang should have been outside, yet you could not find it in yourself to open the door or call from him.

one moment everything was silent, soft quiet. the next, you heard shouting. screaming.

you froze. you were never quick to react like yeosang or mingi or wooyoung. you were never good with a sword.

there was a bang at your door. it was jarring, the sudden bang after so many moons of eerie quiet. something slammed hard against the door. dust sprung to the air as whatever slammed against your door rattled the walls of your chambers. hongjoong's trinkets and books fell from their shelves.

you found your body moving on its own, scrambling for the only thing in reach - the fire iron from the unused fireplace. it was not hot but it was heavy.

"yeosang?" you called, your voice catching in your throat enough to make your voice waver. "yeosang, what is going on?"

another bang, louder this time, so loud the vase of flowers hongjoong's mother had sent you after your wedding crashed to the ground. it shattered. dried, long-dead flowers scattered across the floor. he never allowed the servants to take the dead flowers, and now they spilled across the stone floor. your heart leapt against your ribs. you brandished the fire iron, but your hands shook. you readjusted the iron in your hands, over and over.

another slam.

then the door burst open, the heavy door knocking against the wall with a resounding crash. books and vases and pots and trinkets plummeted to the floor, heavy thuds and ceramics shattering one by one filling the room. each thud, each shatter, made your heart slam louder and louder against your ribs.

dust scattered all around. a large figure loomed at the threshold to your chambers, the person's shadow blocking the only way out. you'd blinked. it was not yeosang. you did not recognize them.

before you could ask, or steady yourself, or even catch your bearings for even a moment, the figure lumbered into the room, his sword taller than you, and it was the mountain, you realized. his boots thumped against the stone floor. thud, thud, thud. your blood ran cold with the way he moved towards you, his boots crunching as he stepped in broken ceramics and did not seem to care one bit, his focus fixed on you. lady irene and yeosang had given you cryptic warnings of the mountain. you'd only known him as lord kang's man, and as one of the kingsguard, but now...now he appeared a beast with eyes as black as night and a heavy frame and a sort of saunter that nearly stopped your heart.

you were only four-and-ten when you faced a dragon, you were twenty when you faced the king of dragons, when you married his son and faced him too, but here you stood facing a dangerous man called the mountain, who brandished a claymore that stood taller than you with nothing but an iron fire poker to defend yourself.

the mountain was a part of the kingsguard, but you were not the king, so did that truly matter?

"lord kang sends his regards, your highness," the mountain's voice was gruff as he stalked closer, his dark eyes piercing as he sized you up as a predator sizes up prey. the queen's vase crunches under his heavy boots. "he assures you he means you no ill will, but you are in the way and that will not do."

you've faced dragons and dragon kings and dragon princes, a mountain was nothing to be afraid of. yet here you stood, without an hint of sunspear left in you, shaking in your boots as the man loomed closer, his predatory gaze promising something worse than death even. you wanted nothing more than for everything to be over mere hours ago, but now you stood and you wanted to fight. you hadn't been able to do either.

you needed to fight back. the smallest voice at the back of your head, that sounded awfully like wooyoung and yunho, shouted at you to fight back. you needed to -

the mountain smacked you so hard across the face, you fell into the wall, stumbling onto the floor. you saw stars, more than you ever had in king's landing. your grip on the fire iron remained tight, but it felt useless under the strength of such a beast of a man.

fight back. your brothers would not here of you dying so easily.

you pushed yourself up to your knees, using the fire poker for support. your vision still swam. the mountain's eyes sparked with a sort of primal joy as he peered down at you, and your heart twisted and your stomach churned at the chill that ran down your spine. he reached down, bending at the waist, to grip your face between his fingers.

he opened his mouth to say something, but you spit blood in his face. he flinched back and you swung your fire iron at him. it slashed at the skin of his exposed ankles. he roared, his hand falling from your face. you nearly slammed face first into the cement floor. his roar made your blood run cold, but you scrambled to your feet. you needed to get away from him, you knew. searing pain shot up your skull as you were yanked back by the hair. he dragged you back, tearing hair from your scalp, and you knew not where he was taking you or what your fate would be now, but you knew that this would not end well. you knew it from the moment you saw joy in his eyes after he hit you. the mountain was a beast and you would not die by his hands. you swung your fists, clawed at skin at his face, anything you could put your hands on. he dragged you onto your bed and you kicked at him, your vision still swimming. only later did you learn you were screaming yourself hoarse, and your vision was swimming because of tears.

there was a shout, then, a deep cry that did not come from you or the mountain. the grip on your hair slackened and you fell forward into the ground, the air leaving your lungs too quickly. you gasped for air, until someone grabbed you by the elbows and hauled you to your feet.

you shoved at the touch, slamming your fists against a solid body, until a deep voice gasped, "it is me, y/n. it is mingi."

and you blinked in surprise, withdrawing your hands, even as you allowed him to drag you out your chambers. there was screaming behind you. your ears were ringing. you did not dare to look back, allowing him to lead the way. you both ran, your head still throbbing and your vision still swimming and fingers curled right around mingi's. the two of you ran and ran and ran until he was pushing you through the tapestries and into a tight corridor, and you two were scurrying down a set of steep stairs in darkness, until -

you came to halt at the foot of the stairs. you knew this door. you took this passage out of the red keep on too many occassions.

you looked over at mingi, but you could not see him well in the darkness of the corridor.

"the mountain," your voice was hoarse, too quiet, "did you kill him?"

mingi said, "only stunned him for a moment. if he traces our steps..."

mingi did not wait for an answer from you. he merely pushed past you, avoiding physical contact with you, and peeked through a crack in the doorway before opening it for you. you exited out into the familiar cobblestone street first, the narrow alleyway the same as it always had been. king's landing, however, was quiet. you had no idea what the king had demanded of the commonfolk while you were locked away in your chambers.

you could see mingi's face in the dim candlelight lanterns hanging from the alleyway walls. his expression was grim, a large cut dragging from under his left eye to the bottom of his chin. his lip was swollen, and he had a slight limp. if it were any other time, the two of you would have stuck out sorely in the streets of king's landing, but all was quiet as war loomed on the horizon. perhaps, with the mountain's message from lord kang, the war had already arrived. perhaps it would be over in the morning.

you opened your mouth to say something, anything, to mingi. last you saw him, hongjoong had been involved. but mingi only held up a black cloak to you. you had not seen where he got it from. you pulled it tight around you, pulling the hood over your stinging face. mingi wore a similar black cloak over plainclothes.

without a word, he took your hand, and he pulled you through cobblestone streets. the cobblestone streets were dry from the heat of the sun you'd felt through your bars, but the streets were eerily quiet. windows were boarded shut, and the world was too quiet.

mingi slinked quickly through the streets, you hurrying to keep up with him. the two of you avoided any main streets, using the alleyways to navigate through king's landing. the port was up ahead, you knew, and the smell of sea breeze reminded you terribly of your family. if lord kang sent someone to kill you, then what of your family? what has happened to the king? to...to...

"wait here," mingi murmured, and you watched as he made his way onto the port, closest to the entrance.

there, mingi spoke quietly with a man who had appeared to have been waiting for him. they clasped hands and mingi tilted his head, leaning down to speak to the man. you looked back over your shoulder, to the red keep looming above the city. it seemed peaceful from down below. quiet. especially so early in the morning. you jumped when you turned away and mingi was back at your side. mingi held out a hand.

he said, "we have to go. now."

your face hurt, and your mouth throbbed, and you knew there was no other option for you. so, you took mingi's hand, and let him guide you onto port. a small cargo boat with neutral sails was docked in the corner. mingi held a hand out to help you onto the boat before he readied the boat to set sail.

mingi worked quietly and quickly, his hood slipping from his head. you watched as he kept his eyes on the task at hand, a perpetual furrow curling through his brow.

the man at port had long disappeared. as the boat started sailing through the bay, towards the narrow sea, sails fluttering gently in the breeze, bells rang from the red keep, over and over and over again. mingi sat at one end of the boat, and you fidgeted in your seat at the other, and you could not ignore the supplies packed and ready at your feet.

the red keep was a dot on the horizon when you could finally allow yourself to relax a little bit.

"where are we going?" you asked. your voice was rough.

mingi said, "anywhere but here."

~.~.~.~.~

"where was yeosang?" mingi asked, after a few hours of sailing in silence. it was the first question he'd asked. perhaps he had been waiting for you to ask something. you had not known where to start.

"i don't know."

"you were his post that night, and i - i had this feeling, so i went to check on him and instead i found the mountain dragging you to... " mingi cleared his throat, frowning, "i've had this boat on standby for yeosang and me just in case we needed it. i hoped to never use it."

"why would either of you need it? i thought you took an oath to the king."

"it was something we both decided to invest in long before we joined the kingsguard," mingi said, his tone flat.

"so all that time," you stared at him, and irritation bubbled through the shock and exhaustion that had encompassed you since you set sail, "all that time you tried to convince me hongjoong was a good person while you both had an escape plan?"

you watched mingi struggled with his next words. finally, he said, "it wasn't just for me and yeosang, y/n. it was for hongjoong too."

your chest tightened.

mingi shook his head, "it was just something stupid we'd promised as children. none of us had the heart to end the arrangement."

even now, your heart ached. despite everything.

"'lord kang sends his regards.'" you repeated, changing the subject quickly, "that is what the mountain said before he...before he tried to kill me."

mingi looked troubled, his gaze fixed upon the horizon behind you.

you said, "do you think lord kang will send him after me?"

there was a beat of silence before mingi finally said, "i don't know. i pray to the gods he does not. no one has ever beat the mountain. we're lucky we got out alive."

you sighed, taking in the predicament you were in.

the boat had enough provisions to make it across the narrow sea. dorne was across the narrow sea, to the south, and to the west of the narrow sea lay essos and the free cities. those were two very clear options. despite the longing you had to return to dorne, there was doubt now. you barely recognized yourself as dornish, what if no one else acknowledged you either?

mingi asked, breaking you away from your thoughts, "so where do we go?"

"we?" you frowned, "you want to come with me?"

you thought he'd leave you somewhere and go off on his own. you certainly deserved it.

for the first time in a long while, mingi met your gaze with a steady firmness and slightly flushed cheeks you'd missed. he said, "i will remain by your side, y/n, until you are safe."

"until we are safe," you corrected him.

mingi smile was wide and gummy, and you found yourself smiling back.

~.~.~.~.~

a day into your voyage, you and mingi get caught in a storm. for an entire night, you're rocked back and forth, waves crashing over the boat and onto the deck. you both try to pull the sails in, to keep the boat as steady as possible, but the gods have plans of their own.

when the storm clears, you are both by a shore neither of you can match to the map. there's a small port and when you dock - after an argument that ends abruptly when you both realize that the water in the boat was only rising higher - you discover a small fishing village. there are all kinds of people in the village, people of differing skin colors and eye colors and heights and hair colors and hair textures, and you believed the gods have decided the two of you would find yourselves stranded somewhere in essos.

perhaps you would never be able to step foot in dorne again.

"how long does it take to repair a boat?" mingi asked as he dragged a hand through his hair.

apparently, many many moons when neither of had a single piece of gold to your name or any idea how to speak the local language.

~.~.~.~.~

mingi found a job as a farmhand. you did the village's laundry. the locals seemed to take pity on you two, washed ashore with nothing to your name, so they agreed to any work requests either of you put in. when mingi found an abandoned stone castle, if one could call such a small building that, up atop a hill overlooking the narrow sea, the villagers seemed to look upon you both with even more pity. they avoided the hill, shaking their heads as they besmirched the place. you did not fully understand their words, but you knew they hated it for a reason.

"perhaps it's haunted," you said to mingi one day, as you two made your beds on opposite sides of the stone room. the straw bedding was warm, and you'd gone too many days without warm bedding. to think such a small thing would be a luxury now.

mingi grimaced, "why say that right before bed?"

you laughed, pulling the thin blanket over you - the bed was so much smaller than the one in the red keep, yet you found it easier to sleep in this one. you snorted while mingi grumbled to himself about spirits in the dark.

for once, you found a similar comfort as you once had before king's landing.

a troubadour wandered into the village shortly after you both settled into your new home, singing of great tales from both faraway lands beyond the sea and close cities such as pentos. the village folk clapped and sang along, and you and mingi found a spot at the back, sitting side-by-side, but never touching.

it was quite a sight, enjoyable even. you'd laughed for the first time in a while. at least until the troubadour sang of the sacking of king's landing.

it was a dramatic song. the villagers held their breath. so did you.

king kim was killed by a member of his own kingsguard, the bard sang as he gulped down ale. an oathbreaker and a kingslayer.

kingslayer, the woman who sold you vegetable seeds gasped. the word echoed through the crowd. oathbreaker, kingslayer, oathbreaker.

they found him sitting on the iron throne, the king's body laid at his feet. throat slashed! he called, his hushed words echoing all around in the silence. it fell heavy on your shoulders. even the birds seemed to repeat it into the distance as they cawed. the man called, oathbreaker and kingslayer kang yeosang. the king is dead, the prince's spouse is dead. they are all dead!

dead, dead, dead.

the crowd jeered at the man dressed in fake kingsguard outfit, wooden sword in hand, a caricature of kang yeosang. your chest felt tight.

the troubadour sang more of jongho's rebellion, but you did not care for the reactions of those around you. you only looked to mingi. he stared at the performers, stunned. perhaps mingi had not known of yeosang's plans. the shock was too genuine. that was a relief at least. manipulation thrived in everyone around you, except for mingi. you had to believe that.

you tapped his knee. mingi's head whipped to meet your gaze. you gestured towards the hill, and he nodded before you could open your mouth. his tense shoulders remained, but relief flooded his expression. he hurried to his feet, turning away first, and perhaps as you watched mingi hurry away, you'd stood frozen for just a moment longer to hear of his fate. perhaps, the troubadour continued on and on about jongho's rebellion, about san's attack on dragonstone - where you knew the queen was sent away, about everything but him.

you shook your head, following behind mingi. you did not bother to keep up with his pace, merely watching his tense shoulders and curled fists as rocks skittered down the pathway as he walked.

it took until you were nearing your little hill house, the sea twinkling softly under moonlight beneath you, the villager's drunken giggles and cries a distant whisper, the night breeze a soft touch against your skin, to gather the courage to break the silence that had befallen you two.

"mingi," you called after him.

mingi ignored you. the crunching of his feet against rocks and dirt was your only answer.

you sighed, picking up speed. as the hill leveled out at the top, so did mingi's pace.

"mingi." you called once more.

mingi spun on his heels, rocks dislodging from beneath his feet. awash in moonlight, he seemed younger somehow, yet more exhausted than he had ever been before. the shadows draped over his sharp features. his mouth quivered and his chin dipped, yet his eyes remained steady. the scar that dripped down from his eye to his chin glowed under the moonlight.

he used to look at you like you hung the stars, like you were the sun waking from the horizon every morning, like you were above him.

now he saw you as you were. the thought terrified you. you were nothing good, certainly not to him. he saw all of it, all of you.

mingi dragged both his hands through his hair. it was overgrown now. he usually tied it back when he went to work.

he opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a staggered breath.

you stepped closer. he did not back away, at least.

"i am sorry," you said. you did not know what else to say.

mingi blinked, as if you'd hit him. "you...this is not..."

a pause, before mingi whispered, his deep voice cracked around the edges, "yeosang told me nothing, you know that? that's the worst part. he never confided in me. i told him everything, my woes and my successes. everything. but he...he kept everything to himself."

mingi's deep voice shattered then. he tugged at his hair, his eyes shining with tears. you pressed hesitant hands to his shaking palms.

you said, "it is not your fault. he decided to do that on his own."

"i could have stopped him."

"no, you could not have," you shook your head, clutching his trembling hands close.

"i could have tried," mingi whispered, each syllable a knife to your chest.

mingi sunk to the ground then, and you went with him. he pressed your intertwined hands to his face, and you watched him sob, his shoulders hunched over and his sobs wracked his whole body. to see such a pillar of strength reduced to this - you always knew what the people around you were like, you'd always been given warnings since the beginning, but mingi grew up in the red keep. he only believed in the good. he had no reason to see their true colors this way.

you could only think that he truly was better than the rest of you. you could only agree that he did not deserve this.

yet here he was. his whole world was crumbling and the only thing you could do was hold his hand through it.

~.~.~.~.~

lord kang pronounced you dead, but you knew he knew you were not. the mountain had to have reported you'd escaped. so why he would leave a loose thread like you unattended to was beyond you.

you knew if your brother believed the kangs had killed you, then your brothers would rather rot than join jongho's rebellion. where that left hongjoong, you had no idea. last you heard, he'd kidnapped park seonghwa, triggering jongho's rebellion, san was sent to take dragonstone in jongho's name, likely meant to kill the queen in the process if she was even alive, and you remained in a remote village off the coast of the narrow sea. perhaps lord kang hoped that the prince leaving you behind to die as collateral damage to run away with park seonghwa would spur your brothers to fight alongside jongho. it was hongjoong's duty to keep you safe, of course, and he failed miserably. yunho and wooyoung would have hongjoong's head for that very reason. the troubadours and rumors only ever mentioned dorne as a footnote, so you had no idea how your brothers were faring.

you wished to live in peace; you were even resigned to it. spending the rest of your life farming and doing laundry and trying to make it up to mingi for manipulating his feelings at king's landing did not seem like the worst of fates. even mingi seemed happy with his share, as kind as he was, his smiles seemed genuine. he did not seem to miss his father or the kingsguard or the red keep. at least he did not make it known to you if he did.

mingi did not look at you as he used to, with stars in his eyes, but you still caught him staring sometimes. he did not touch you often, even when he had to move around you in your narrow living space. you appreciated it. you did not think you could love him the way he wanted you too. maybe he could not either.

you tried to live in peace, but the troubadours came to sing often, and rumors spread quickly, and you were kept aware of current events even if you did not want to be. westeros was right across the narrow sea, of course. you would not be able to escape it. dorne was across the narrow sea as well, calling to you. you thought of your brothers, left to mourn your father, to then mourn you, and you missed them so. but you'd grown used to missing them. was it worth it to emerge from the dead in the midst of this war?

~.~.~.~.~

you were five-and-twenty on a windy, cloudy day. a storm was brewing, and when you looked over the hill, you could barely see the village down below. fog obscured the village homes. even the tavern's bright red roof was barely visible. the sea was tumultuous below. waves crashed against the cliffs and beach below. usually children would be playing in the sand, but it was empty. you hurried to bring the laundry in, wind whipping your hair in your face.

a shadow befell your home and your yard. a chill ran down your spine as you looked up. you had not seen his dragon in many many name-days, but you recognized it right away. above the clouds was a large creature of shining black scales. if it were sunny, the dragon's scales would have reflected back the colors of the rainbow, catching the attention of everyone around you. but it was dark and gloomy and thunder boomed, shaking you to your core, and no one would know that the prince of westeros was descending upon you on dragonback.

wind whipped at your face as you craned your neck to watch the dragon circle your home. it wove in and out between stormy grey clouds. the laundry basket tumbled from your hands. the wind screamed. the laundry lines shook. your world felt fragile once more, despite the fact that you were no longer trapped behind gilded barred windows.

then he descended upon you.

your heart lodged in your throat as the shadow got bigger and bigger, as wind rushed all around you. your clothes flew, your hair whipped at your skin, your lips became dry, your eyes watered, but you did not avert your gaze as the beast landed upon a rock, wings flapping one last gust wind before the dragon bowed its head. the ground shook as it landed. it sounded like thunder.

his blonde hair gleamed, strands of silver-white falling into his eyes despite the way he's restrained his hair into a severe bun at the top of his head. he remained seated on the back of his dragon, murmuring to the creature in the old language. you only picked up bits and pieces of his words, all incomprehensible to you, the rest drowned out by another heavy blast of thunder. a puckered red scar ran from the corner of his mouth to his ear, a festering wound that gave him a perpetual half-smile. despite all of it, he was still beautiful. kim beauty never diminished; even the severity of his angles, of his tight bun and his scar, gave him an inhuman beauty that would leave anyone breathless. it was a predatory beauty, you knew, meant to draw you in as predator does with its prey, yet you could not avert your gaze.

your heart stilled as he slid off his dragon's back, his white shirt billowing in the wind, his hand rested on his dragon's head and he murmured something to his dragon. it bowed its head, snarling under its breath, its large eyes unblinking. his movements were languid, impudent as always. your heartbeat stilled when he finally looked up and his scrutinizing gaze locked with yours. droplets of rain began to fall upon you both, a shiver running down your spine.

in that moment, you were four-and-ten again and facing a dragon in the dragonpit. the burn on your arm itched under his heavy gaze.

his dark eyes still danced; a familiar wild fire that consumed everything it touched. your stomach was in knots.

"did you think i would not find you?" hongjoong's voice carried over the wind, echoing as the voice of the gods were said to. "that you could leave so easily?"

you were seven-and-ten again, surrounded by grown men who did nothing to keep you safe and a mad king who threatened you for your father's perceived failings.

"you left me, hongjoong," anger filled your chest. "you promised to stay by my side and keep me safe, but then you left to be by seonghwa's side. you left me, and they tried to kill me."

your scream joined the gusts of wind.

hongjoong stepped closer and closer and you could only watch. his eyes flickered over your face. he said, "seonghwa was never meant to remain by my side. you are."

you blinked, "what did you do to him?"

once, a long, long time ago, you had felt fear for park seonghwa, as you did for yourself.

hongjoong shrugged, waved a hand nonchalantly. "i left him somewhere safe."

you were twenty again, and terrified of the man before you and what would become of you. he left seonghwa too. he tames pretty things and then he leaves them caged away to wither or to die or to have their cages broken into by someone else.

hongjoong reached up then, and you'd only then realized he was close enough to touch you. and touch you, he did.

his fingertips fluttered over your cheek, following the line of your jaw. your heart skipped a beat. you said, "why are you here?"

"i shall return to king's landing and take back the throne from those...those traitors," his eyes narrowed.

"those traitors were once your brothers," you said. hongjoong's thumb brushed along your skin, to the edge of your lip, and it lingered there. his eyes flickered over your face, as if he were committing your face to memory.

"we are no longer kids, y/n." he murmured, "i don't need them."

but his voice cracked at the last word, and the fire in his eyes dimmed.

he said, "but i need you."

you were something-and-twenty again, and you might have loved him.

"i don't need you," you said, pushing his hand from your face. the rain grew heavier, colder.

"i loved you, y/n."

he'd never said it before.

your fingers trembled, even as you observed hongjoong for a long moment. his blonde hair stuck to his face, and his scars were bright against his skin. his eyes were wild, desperate almost. he'd lost everything, and only then did he return to find you. only then.

you shook your head, "no, you didn't."

he only ever wanted you to rely on him. to need you, to control you. perhaps he loved you once, in his own way, but it was not the kind of love you'd ever needed or wanted or could accept.

hongjoong's jaw clenched. he looked up at the clouds, and rain dripped down his face. a softer part of you might have imagined that he shed tears then. but it was just the rain.

"i tried to," hongjoong said.

then he grabbed you by the jaw, his grip rough, painful. you gasped as he lifted you from your feet, as his grip tightened and you could not breathe.

his eyes were black with wild fire and indifference and something else, and you struggled in his grip. you thought then, that you could just give up, let him win, let him take the strength of the sun from you as he meant to when you were four-and-ten and you first spoke out of turn to him.

or you could fight back.

you could let the rage that had filled you since you stepped onto the shores of king's landing fill you to the brim. the rage you felt when you were four-and-ten, and seven-and-ten, and twenty, and something-and twenty. the years only added fuel to a monster in your stomach that was crying to escape a long, long time ago. you were four-and-ten again, not scared of death, and full of rage.

you kicked him, and his grip loosened as he let out a gasp of pain. his grip loosened enough for you to be able to bite the hand gripping your face. he shouted. the shout was drowned out by the wind. you reached inside your boot, pulling a dagger one of the village women had given you ("just in case," she whispered as she slipped it into your pocket) from its depths. you held it in front of you. your hands did not shake. you'd beat him once during sword training. you could do it again.

hongjoong gripped his bleeding hand as he stared at the knife in your hand. his gaze flickered from the knife to your face, back and forth, back and forth.

you said, "you never once thought of anyone but yourself, hongjoong, and now you're alone. no one wants you, and everyone wants to kill you, and it was all because of you. this is all your own undoing."

rage descended upon hongjoong like a wave crashing upon the shore. he lunged at you. you slashed at his lunging hand. you missed. he tackled you. you both tumbled into the ground. rocks dug into your skin. you scratched at him with your nails. he scratched you right back. your grip remained tight on the knife.

he trapped you beneath him, locking both your hands above your head with his

hongjoong's blond hair fell from his bun, tickling your face as he bent over you. his blood smeared your face, your skin.

he bit out, "say it again. i dare you."

"you are your own undoing," you spat.

he reached for the knife in your hand. you bucked. you flipped the two of you over. you landed on top of him, the knife pressed to his throat, one of his hands pressed underneath him, your knee on top of the other.

his eyes were black with rage. he said, "do it."

you hesitated. still, despite everything, you hesitated.

hongjoong laughed. he threw his head back in the dirt and laughed and laughed, and you punched him across the face, but he continued to laugh, his lip bleeding.

he laughed and laughed and he said, "what a pair we are, y/n."

"y/n!" the shout of your name pulled you from the red rage you were seeing. you'd pressed the knife into his throat enough to draw blood, but you could not push it further. you could not kill him, and he lay there beneath you reveling in the fact.

you stood, stepping away from hongjoong. he merely laid there, even as mingi stepped closer, his eyes flickering between you, hongjoong, and his dragon.

hongjoong pushed himself to his feet, covered in blood, and he turned to mingi. you only noticed then that hongjoong had a sword at his hip that he had never drawn. he could have drawn it whenever he wanted, yet it remained sheathed, just as dragon remained forgotten.

you did not want to think of whether he could not do it either. you did not want to believe it a possibility with him, not when he had his hands around your throat with the intention to kill just a few moments ago.

mingi drew his sword, his brows furrowed as he spoke, "what is going on, hongjoong?"

hongjoong's hand went to the hilt of his sword, but he did not draw it. his eyes flickered to you, before he rested his gaze on mingi. he said, "i am going to reclaim the throne."

mingi did not falter, did not respond.

hongjoong continued, "i will die."

mingi did not falter.

hongjoong nodded, before he turned away, blood dripping from his hand wound as he made his way to his dragon.

the two of you watched as he walked away. as he pulled himself up on his dragon, and ascended into the grey clouds.

he walked away, as he always did.

as soon as his dragon disappeared, mingi dropped his sword and turned to you. the clatter of steel against rocks and dirt felt as loud as thunder.

mingi knelt before you. only then did you realize you'd sunk to your knees.

mingi asked, "can i touch you?"

you nodded, a stilted movement.

he reached for the knife you still gripped, prying it from your hands, and then he gently wrapped his arms around your form.

you said, "he will die."

"yes."

"i am sorry."

"why?"

"he was your family."

"he was supposed to be yours, too, y/n."

you sobbed into mingi's shoulder, and he shook with his own sobs, and you knew that a part of you would die alongside hongjoong when he landed in king's landing. you'd both swore an oath, and despite everything, you almost loved him once.

#ateez angst #ateez scenarios #hongjoong angst #ateez #got au #hongjoong

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1indigoisles · 5 months

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Can we just step back and take a moment to appreciate the fact that we now have the smallest, tiniest, most insignificant inkling of an idea as to what might happen in TWP?

And that after New Year we will have more small, tiny, insignificant inklings as to what we might get to see?

CC has us all in web woven by her novel universe. I love her.

But gratitude and all aside, it's TWP CrAckPOt ThEorY TImE (by yours truly)!!

I have some pretty random theories and headcanons that I will be randomly spouting around now and for the next couple of days.

Theory #1: Kit gets gold wings.

Hear me out, why not? He's not just any old part faerie, he's the descendant of the First Heir! Also, Clary had a dream in CoLS of two people standing together beside a lake, one with white hair and black wings and the other with gold hair and gold wings. At the time, it was assumed that those two people were Sebastian and Jace, but the pieces are falling together! ASH HAS WHITE HAIR AND BLACK WINGS, can you not tell how excited I am?

Theory #2: The disappearance that Kit and Ty have to investigate is Livvy's.

I mean, does anyone reading this post have other ideas? It would make sense, since Dru would be sucked into Faerie danger, and even if she wasn't, she couldn't really help Ty because she can't even see Livvy. And if we assume that Dru is in Faerie, Kit is literally the only one Ty could go to, since nobody else knows (except for Magnus and Ragnor, who I think would either be too busy or simply refuse to help, thinking that if Livvy had finally truly died, then it would be lucky that the world got off without having to pay for it). Ty would, obviously, try to find Livvy on his own, but the thought that only Kit could help him would be nagging at him the entire time. So either he finally plucks up the courage to ask Kit, or they just bump into each other on their own. Either way, they team up together, very begrudgingly on Kit's part, because he'll be all ice and "I hate you" on Ty. Then, Kit's faerie magic spurts out again in a moment of danger, or in a fight scene where they're outnumbered, and Ty, aside being amazed, interrogates Kit heavily, and when Kit is finally worn off, he tells Ty angrily about his heritage and how if Faerie knew of it, the entire lands would be after him. And even though the thought gives me immense pain, I think that eventually, it's how Jessa dies, and Kit blames himself for it, and added to how he has to take care of Mina and live for her, he absolutely refuses to help Ty any longer. But then, when danger strikes again, his faerie magic comes out in full, Kit gets himself severely injured. And THIS happens:

"Well, it's a bit ironic, isn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"All that effort to convince you I wasn't in love with you, and here I am, dying in your arms."

[Teaser #6] Link below.

I just realised I gave an entire rant about it, I'll stop now.

Theory #3: What can transpire between Dru, Jaime and Ash.

And I don't mean this just romantically. Dru getting involved in Faerie finally connects the dots, since Ash literally lives there, and Jaime disappeared there. Their storylines probably merge somewhere around TLKoF and they have their own adventures. Also, headcanon; you know how in TDA, Jaime was all distant when he found out that Dru was 13 and not 16, like he'd thought? And how he literally left, like, the next day? So, what I'm thinking is that he was already beginning to crush on Dru, and he was disappointed, not because she hid her age, but because they wouldn't be possible. Okay, okay, I know Jaime said that Dru was like his sister, but that if you go to that scene, you'll find he's speaking after a moment of being silent, perhaps drinking in the situation. I think he says that because he's trying to convince himself that whatever he likes about Dru is just friendly, and nothing more. Now, I know that people don't have the kindest opinions about DruxJaime, because Dru was just a child when they met, but if you really think about it, 13's really not that young, and Dru was really mature for her age. And this 3-year gap is nothing compared to what Lucie and Jesse had going on. Girl meets a 17-year-old-looking boy when she was 6 years old. Can you believe the age gap that I'm too lazy to calculate? So yes, DruxJaime is plausible, it can and will happen, although Dru will obviously end up with Ash. And if CC pulls an open end to Jaime's character like she did to Matthew, I will literally cry. I really dislike open ends, because it fills me with so many questions! I hate not knowing what happens next! I really want Jaime to either end up with Anush or go poly with Thais, which I know is just wishful thinking at this point. Any character will do, CC! Please and thank you!

Okay, I just read this entire thing over, and my self-critic says; this is not a post, this is me ranting. My writing is literally all over the place. I feel like I wrote too much. But I think I got it all out for now. This was fun.

#Honestly this has turned into a Shadowhunters rant.#I tend to dive deep into a topic #I'm sorry #the wicked powers #twp #kit herondale #ty blackthorn #dru blackthorn #ash morgenstern #jaime rosales #anush joshi #thais pedroso #cassandra clare #shadowhunters #theory

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ofallthingsnasty · 1 year

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So capture kill got me thinking, you know how in very, very rare cases a woman can have twins with two different fathers if they have sex close enough together and the planets are in alignment and all that stuff (okay I’m not a doctor I can’t remember the specifics but it can happen!)

Imagine poor reader getting knocked up with twins, one from Bill and one from Evan 👀

😊��💕 aaah thank you so much for showing interest in capture kill!! you don't know how happy this makes me 💞 also dshjdhsja anon you are funny af, i can't stop giggling over here

fic referenced

Surpisingly, I think Bill wouldn't mind that much. For him, the rules of his pack go above all else. His alpha told him that whoever knocks you up gets to keep you - and now you're having a kid from them both? Well, whatever. He'll learn to live with it. His scent on you and you getting visibly pregnant is enough to distract him from that pesky sting of jealousy - and let's not forget, as Evan's elder, he always gets to call dibs. There will definitely be a learning curve for him but he'll manage. He won't hide his distaste for Evan but he won't be cruel to the other child. He is very protective, yes, but not all too territorial. As long as your kids with him outnumber any potential pups between you and Evan, he'll be quite content. He'll keep calling Evan a cuck until his dying breath, though.

Evan, however, is devastated. He feels betrayed by some divine force, feels as though he's been cheated out of a happy life. Having to share you with Bill is worse than not getting you at all - he could have split from the pack and moved away if Bill had gotten you, could have forgotten about this after many, many tears and grief. He can't even be happy that you're expecting your first child with him - it's all overshadowed by the fact that you're also pregnant with Bill's pup. He'll fall into a huge depressive episode, will grow apathetic and lethargic. Keeping his distance, you probably won't see him for weeks at a time, much to the delight of Bill, who uses the opportunity to play house with you and shit-talk the younger man behind his back. Not only did all of his most intimate, deepest dreams die a painful death, he'll have it rubbed into his face for decades to come. He may be a lovesick, delusional little creep but even he has to admit defeat in this situation. It truly shatters his whole world.

His behavior will get so bad that Hugh, their alpha, will have to step in and talk some sense into him - and into Bill. Evan is about to become a father - he needs to get his act together and step up and Bill will need to learn to control his acid tongue. Their little squabble is not only damaging to the little about-to-be family you three form, it's also creating tension within the pack. Evan will slowly get better and will start to regain some of his delusional, beyond optimistic tendencies (especially when he holds your child for the first time - he'll just start bawling his eyes out with happiness) but the relationship between him and Bill will require lifelong work. In the end (and if kept in check regularly), they'll get along somehow. Not without some fights, not without some troubles but they'll make it work. Be prepared to be pregnant for as long you are able to, though - these two will lay their claims on you again and again, each in their own way.

#ask #anon #OC: Bill #OC: Evan #capture kill #yandere teratophilia

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ay0nha · 1 year

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Dead Man Walking | Tommy Miller

SUMMARY: “May as well ask it, sweetheart.” Tommy caught your eye and saw the way you were contemplating every aspect of his being. You hardly knew him. He was convincing, though. Talked of a place that would take you in, no questions asked. A place that sounded disgustingly beautiful.

PAIRING: Tommy Miller x femme!reader

WORD COUNT: 2K

WARNINGS: not too much, pretty fluff/angst oriented, canon-typical things (infected, firearms, etc.), talk of eating/food, etc.

A/N: I couldn’t resist. Look at him. It isn’t anything crazy, a short lil sm sm for fun that’s pretty self-indulgent. This is dedicated to @from-the-clouds who helped me tremendously and has a genius brain for ideas!

Part II

The wind chill kept you static. It made your bones ache with every movement of the horse. But you were grateful that you no longer had to endure it on foot. Or alone.

There was little energy left in your body to keep yourself upright. Tommy could feel how your body threatened to cave and noted how you fought against it as best you could.

“No point in being stubborn.” Tommy’s voice rumbled against your chest as you moved away. The inconsistent conversation shared helped you rally but made you tense with uncertainty. “I’m just as cold as you are.”

Your effort to ignore him dwindled, and so did your willpower to argue. He was insistent on your comfort, offering his waist for warmth and support.

With a confident hand on the reign, Tommy reached for your own, pulling you tightly to him. At first, your grip around him was tight, as if you’d fall. Even with the thick fabric between you and him, the warmth seeped into you instantly.

You meant to keep to yourself, but your sigh was telling of the relief Tommy provided. Days passed with a chill you couldn’t shake and exhaustion that you refused to let consume you.

“We’ll go a little bit further before stoppin’.” Tommy was almost as tired as you, but he held more drive. Maintaining the steady pace of the horse, he almost cursed the weather. “Don’t think I’ll ever get used to this cold.”

To be afraid wasn’t strange; fear abounded in your dreams. So you stayed awake, resting your cheek between Tommy’s shoulder blades with some introspection. He appreciated the weight; it was something cathartic.

He provided information about himself easily. It rolled off his tongue as if he was with a lifelong friend. You wanted to hold the same ease, but your voice felt hard to find. You were uneasy; Tommy could sense it. It’s why he always continued to fill the silence.

“You know, I’d kill for a cigarette.” Tommy hummed as if talking to himself, perfectly content. That familiar itch called him back before it all. “Probably best I haven’t gotten my hands on a pack in a while.”

The image suited him well—a smoking cowboy.

Tommy rambled on. He doesn’t know how much you understood, but you thought it was a reasonable bit of nonsense. It helped weave a dream of before as you finally succumbed to sleep.

“Oh, yeah.” Tommy nodded, talking through the cigarette that muffled his words. You could hear the brief inhale of smoke before he continued, "You and me, we're gonna get married."

You laughed as you found your balance on the hood of his truck, "You sound so sure of yourself."

"Can't you see it?" He plucked the cigarette from his lips to be heard clearly. Tone genuine, he held out his hand as if explaining an elaborate painting, "You and me with a couple of kids, not too many- We don't want to be outnumbered..."

"I’m not even sure I want kids." You humored him honestly as he held up his lighter for the cigarette you had bummed.

With the lighter secure in his jacket pocket, Tommy had already devised a solution, "That's fine, then we can get a dog and live anywhere. Anywhere but here. How's that sound?"

"I don't know…" You rhythmically tapped the ash off the tip of the cigarette. You had no idea where you truly were, but you couldn’t stop the confession, "I'm quite partial to this town."

"We can always talk about that in the future," Tommy shrugged, enjoying the amusement he pulled from you, "I want to show you Austin; I think you'd love it."

"I've only just met you." Your smile mirrored his. "How would you know what I like?"

"I thought you might say that," He tutted lightly. Tommy imagined it all, played out every scenario, and there you were. It had just made sense. "Let's say it's a hunch."

You flicked your cigarette to the ground before stepping on it firmly. Hands occupied in the pockets of your jacket, you took a moment to study him. He was handsome, no doubt, and used it to his advantage, which to you, became his only disadvantage.

"Not convinced I can go solely based on a hunch."

—

Stay close.

You latched onto Tommy moments after the coarse instruction. You were sure it was a hindrance, but pure fear dictated your every move.

The gunshot continued to ring in your ears, causing your breath to become tight in your chest. The snow crunched beneath every frantic step toward possible safety. The sound allured danger, meaning it was imperative to move fast and quietly.

“Are you hurt?”

You hardly heard the question over the cluster of infected you’d angered. The shrieking intensified and filled your senses. Tommy repeated his question, yet entirely focused on the path before him.

“Fine.” You faltered, finding your voice. “I’m fine.”

Your hands started to shake. Your gun was gone, forgotten as you fought for your life. Tommy’s horse was mangled beyond recognition, buried beneath a swarm of infected. Your options were becoming extremely limited.

“We’ve got to get to the water.” Tommy was steps ahead of you, already seeing the safety in his mind. Yet, his lightheartedness with you was gone, replaced by years of tactful experience. “We can get leverage there.”

The formation of your relationship would have questioned how you followed Tommy so faithfully. You were reluctant, but you were desperate. And now that desperation morphed into dependence for survival.

“I need you to stay focused now, okay?” Tommy spoke in hushed tones, eyes filtering the mess before you. Even the path of least resistance included immense risk. “When I move, you move.”

He led you purposefully, firing his gun only when necessary and using his strength to his advantage. You felt useless beside him, watching as he ruthlessly cleared the path. But you were no longer controlling your body, moving only on instinct.

That’s when Tommy heard it. He halted, reaching to you again to backtrack the route. His mind turned, waiting to land on a useful thought. But you recognized the panic in his eyes.

“Shit. ”

The curses poured out swiftly. He needed to think.

“Tomm-

His hand was to your mouth, cutting his name short. The forceful silence filled you with fear as your back became met the tree bark. Tommy’s eyebrows were taut, eyes wide with a finger on his lips.

You heard it.

The trees groaned against the wind. Anything that resonated drove the clicker closer to where Tommy encased you in a protective hold. Its movements twitched erratically, following any sound with a semblance of life.

As the pressure grew, you pulled him to your chest by the collar of his jacket. Your bodies were flesh together, unsteady breath mixing as you trembled under him.

You tried to hold it in, breathing evenly to suppress any sobbing urge. It was neither the time nor the place for added emotion. But the clicker was close, close enough that it would soon brush against Tommy’s collar. The very same one you held onto so desperately.

Your tears fell freely, sliding down until they met the palm of Tommy’s hand. You clenched your teeth so hard you bit your tongue and cried harder. Tommy could feel how they burned, how terrified you really were. Your brain lagged when Tommy pulled the pistol from his waist.

In a fluid movement, he used it to deliver a lethal shot.

—

You were staring.

Tommy could feel the burning gaze on his profile since you settled by the fire. He remained quiet, but you stayed silent from the moment the clicking echoed in the dense forest.

The fear refused to leave you, and the repeated question stayed on the tip of Tommy’s tongue. Are you alright?

Anger radiated off of you. If you spoke now, you knew it would be misdirected. Instead, you tore your eyes from him with indifference.

Tommy pulled at the bandana fastened around his neck, using his canteen to dose it with water. You watched him rub it along his face, around his neck and hands. He wasted more water to help the paisley pattern return to its original grungy white.

Your arm's length away requirement diminished the longer you spent with him, especially when he was habitually responsible for closing the distance. “C’mere.”

Although Tommy called you to him, he met you in your spot. You lifted your chin for him as he wiped off any remnants of what shook you. Maybe it was only symbolic, but it helped.

“I don’t trust you.”

You had waited until his fingers rested on your chin to speak. Your voice didn’t even sound like your own. It was soft and airy as if it carried no weight, no life. Tommy’s eyebrows pulled together. He wasn’t confused but intrigued by your choice of words.

“Odd way to say thank you.” Tommy stood with a sigh, bandanna forgotten as he threw it on his pack. Your eyes tracked him as he moved on to prepare the canned dinner.

“Who are you- How did-” Your head cocked to the side. The images of the hours prior were still fresh in your mind. How could he be so calm? “How did you do that?”

You said it yourself; you didn’t trust him. He saw something in your eyes; he believed you.

The past handful of weeks proved that. And yet, he knew you stuck around because he was your final option for survival.

“I was in the military.” Tommy resigned in the truth. He didn’t regret it but always wished things turned out differently. “Joined right out of school, stayed until I didn’t have to anymore.”

“The military’s just a pipeline to FEDRA.” You spat your words. You found any reason to be upset at him. You wanted something to be wrong about the situation—a reason to run.

“You believe that?” He picked at the food, eyeing, squinting just slightly to challenge you. There was always a catch. But he was slowly giving you a reason to believe there wasn’t. “You need to eat something.”

Adrenaline had numbed your body; your legs no longer ached from running, your mind felt blank, and all you felt was dread. Therefore, you failed to tally how long it had been since you ate, the way Tommy had.

You pushed the food around in the can you hadn’t noticed he passed along. You didn’t trust what your stomach could handle.

Tommy seemed so unbothered that it bothered you. His gaze was fixed on the sky, ankles crossed over one another, and fingers settled comfortably across his chest. But the judgment didn’t go unnoticed.

“May as well ask it, sweetheart.”

Tommy caught your eye and saw the way you were contemplating every aspect of his being. You hardly knew him. He was convincing, though. Talked of a place that would take you in, no questions asked. A place that sounded disgustingly beautiful.

“You’re not from around here.” You commented, but you didn’t seem settled with the statement. Sweetheart. Naturally, it rolled off his tongue and paired perfectly with the accent. “Louisiana?”

The more he spoke, the thicker his drawl seemed to become. Maybe it was the stress that evoked it, but it certainly didn’t belong to the land you occupied. It was soft but detectable.

“God, no.” He shook his head. You were able to hear his laugh directly. It was fleeting, more like a quick breath out the nose, but it was a laugh. “Texas.”

“So you’re a real cowboy, then.” You mused. There was a warmth to your words that wasn’t there before. There was a need to put it out, but you continued, “All this isn’t just for show.”

“Suppose not, no.”

It was then you understood Tommy. You clocked him easily; what he was like before it all. He was trouble, a magnet for mischief. He was kindhearted at his core but had the ability to do so much more. He was dangerous, yet you’ve never felt more secure.

A chill crawled up your spine at the actualization. You didn’t know what to do with it but pause before offering an unorthodox thank you, "...Empathy will get you killed."

"Then I'm a dead man walking."

#q #tommy miller #tommy #miller #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller fluff #tommy miller angst #tommy miller tlou #tlou #the last of us #gabriel luna #tommy miller x femme!reader #tommy miller x f!reader #tommy miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou imagine #tlou fic #tlou fanfic

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help-itrappedmyself · 3 months

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Sacred Moments (Batman AU) Part 2

Masterpost

The meeting was on the docks, surrounded by shipping containers piled high in maze-like configurations. The gang that called the meeting made their way through the winding tunnels in small black vans, and one sleek black sedan. They got set up, guards exiting the vans and taking up stations, forming a perimeter around the junction. Black mask comes out of the sedan’s backseat to lean against the trunk, waiting for his guest to arrive.

Red Hood had made himself known quickly. Gaining territory and followers in Gotham the way outsiders usually struggle to do for years without making any headway. This place isn’t friendly to outsiders, it takes a special something to make a home here, something that most people only receive by rights of growing up here, making a living on these streets, dealing with the dark heart of Gotham all their lives.

So, though no one truly knew where Hood had come from, Roman knew that he was a Gothamite. Only a Gothamite could so quickly make a home here. Only a Gothamite would be so stupid and crazy as to take a name left by the Joker and make it their own. And while dealing with strangers is difficult, no one in Gotham is truly a stranger to one another. They both have the same streets forming their veins, smog in their blood and toxins in their mouths. Black Mask knows one thing that unites the city is that stupid Wayne boy and the way it translates to the shadows that make up Gotham as greed and power. Almost every big-name player in Gotham has tried at least once to mess with the Wayne family. But Black Mask doesn’t play at the level of holding up galas for pocket change. And though the boy Wayne adopted does make nice catnip for those looking for a ransom, Black Mask has thought bigger. And more dramatic, but he’s from Gotham, drama thrives here.

Red Hood approaches on his bike and the guards let him pass easily. He parks and his boots thud the ground with every step.

“What do you want Mask? We have no shared business.”

“That may be true for now, but you're cutting into the drug trade and I wanted to step in early for territory negotiations.”

“Didn’t peg you for a negotiator.”

“I’m a businessman, and the Alley has a lot of business.” Roman stood up straight, pushing off the car. “I have something here I am willing to give you and in return I’m hoping to be able to sell closer to the Alley than my competitors.”

“I’m not stupid, I know better than to think I can stop the drug trade. But I don’t allow dealings with kids. Not as buyers, not as sellers, not as runners. I don’t think you’ll be able to follow the rules.”

“Your rules have made a nice open market. To be the only one selling to them would be a large increase in profits.”

Hood brings his hands closer to his guns. Roman waves him off.

“There is little need for that, I don’t want any part of your Alley. They can barely afford my goods as it is. Besides, you are highly outnumbered.”

“I don’t negotiate about kids.” Hood growled. “You leave them out of your business or you business stays out of my Alley.”

“Do you negotiate for kids?” Roman smirks. “I mean, you haven’t even asked what I’ve brought you.”

Hood becomes a deathly still, poised like a snake and waiting on a breath, whole body a hairpin trigger. “Do you have a child right now?” There is an amount of shock in his voice, even through the modulator, that Roman takes great amusement in.

Roman hums. “I mean she’s barely a child anymore. Sixteen, and almost seventeen at that.” He clicks his tongue.

“You kidnapped a child.” There is a thud from the trunk behind Roman.

“Ah, it seems she’s awake now.” His grin is slow and syrupy but does nothing to soften the rest of his face. “See, I had to find this girl in particular. Her value lies far beyond the fact that she’s young. But it took a long time to find her. Too long for her to end up being good for what I had planned for her. That Wayne brat died before we found her. But she could still be useful to you, or at the very least you could help her out some. She is very far from home.”

Hood says nothing, his mind racing.

“What’ll it be Hood, you interested? If not, I can alway find a use for her somehow. She won’t be worth as much as I had hoped, but I’m sure Wayne will find her interesting either way.”

“What does she have to do with the Waynes?” Hood asks, an edge to his voice that wasn’t there before. Roman is glad to have sparked an interest, this is her main feature. “That brat that the Waynes adopted, the second one, he lived on the street. He was known here, so when he was formally adopted and all the knowledge about him became worth something we decided to find his soulmate. She would have been worth more if the brat was still alive to fight with daddy for her.” Roman frowned at the change in plans, still irritated by the time lost and plans gone to waste. “But she is still a pretty little thing.” Roman shrugs.

“Let me see the mark.” Hood growled out.

“Of course, you can inspect your property before the deal is finalized, but first I would like to talk about returns.”

“What exactly do you want?”

“Your territory, the Bowery and Crime Alley, can be yours.” Roman smirks at Hood. “I know better than to intrude, and your population is too poor to be of much use to me. But your territory is getting close to the university and I want to be able to continue my business there without interference.”

Red Hood’s territory was getting close, he was only a few streets away. The people living at the university would be a good crowd, with enough money to spend on University there’s enough money to spend on drugs. Hood could see why Sionis wanted access to the area. Right now Hood’s territory included a stretch of a few blocks that separated the university from Sionis’s territory and Hood's guys had been keeping his runner’s from passing through. This had ended up with Hood confiscating a fair amount of Sionis’ goods and money from the dealings.

“Show me the girl.” Hood demanded. “And we can discuss your passage through my territory.”

#batman #dc comics #red hood #black mask #jason todd #roman sionis #my writing #fanfiction #soulmate au #soulmate marks

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sailxrmxrs · 1 year

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i truly underestimated the sheer amount of brainrot watching trigun stampede would give me but here we go. this is the culmination of many nights spent scrolling vash fanart and letting the thoughts run wild. circumstances mean there's a gunfight happening and vash is there by your side trying to protect you but oops a bullet scraped past you and now he's taking you to safety asap to patch you up and fret over your wellbeing. protective vash being soft and flustered hits me directly in a weak spot he's just so.....y'know. love that little man.

Surviving in a hellish desert in the throes of summer was already an arduous task in its own right. Settlements and towns were miles upon miles apart, the distance feeling even longer when the horizon was a vast pool of sand as far as the eyes could see. Not to mention the perpetual thirst and hunger that ailed your body at any given time of day. The relief that coming across some semblance of civilisation brought was beyond words. However, enjoying such a sight was too often spoiled by hostile hosts or unsavoury groups. Travelling with Vash the Stampede meant there was never a boring moment, even if he did draw trouble like a magnet. Today was no different, under the unrelenting summer sun was the sound of gunfire. It had been like any other day until someone had recognised Vash and all hell broke loose. As soon as the gunfire started, you both dived for cover shortly before Vash charged off without a second thought to try and take care of things by himself. He always tried to insist that you remained out of danger despite knowing he was fighting a losing battle. Not once had you let Vash fight alone nor did you intend to start now. Pistol in hand, you held your own, immobilising anyone who came close enough. Never enough to fatally harm them, just enough to leave them unable or unwilling to keep fighting. Vash had been adamant that neither of you would be killers and you were more than happy to comply. Peaceful resolutions were few and far between but that didn't mean lives had to be lost for the sake of some gun fight over a money reward.

Surveying the area, you caught sight of Vash's familiar red coat. He artfully dodged a bullet flying his way, rolling behind a broken-down car for a momentary shelter. A perfect opening to make your way to him. Survival in numbers was always the winning move. You aimed your pistol, shooting at your assailant's feet and sending them off balance. It gave you enough time to jump to Vash's side, ducking just fast enough to dodge the bullet intended for you.

"What are you doing?! You never listen when I tell you to stay out of trouble," Vash complained, pouting as you caught your breath. It was almost impressive how he could sound so casual right in the middle of a direct attack on his life. He reloaded his bullets, lips still downturned though you knew he was secretly grateful for the backup. Even if Vash preferred to keep you out of harm's way, he never once doubted your ability to keep up with him.

"And let you have all the fun? No thanks." More gunshots struck the body of the car, swiftly ending any attempts at conversation. There would be time to talk things over later. First you had to get out with your lives in tact. You and Vash shared a look, silently communicating the usual plan of action and within an instant you were jumping back into the fray. In any other instance, being outnumbered would be cause for worry but with Vash at your side you knew that you would prevail. He hadn't earned his infamous reputation for nothing. Even if he was secretly far softer and much less prone to violence than the wanted posters suggested, his skill with a gun was on another level—though a decent helping of luck no doubt factored into his survival. Vash shouted over the cacophony of sounds, only just audible as he checked in with you. Even in the midst of battle Vash was as attentive as the situation allowed him to be. Every time you'd shout back that you were fine, that he should worry about himself but it did little to quell his worries.

The distant sound of cars approaching sounded from the deserted town centre. Whoever was leading this gang had called for backup and soon you and Vash were going to be surrounded. Your attackers were focused on Vash, intent on taking down the Humanoid Typhoon before worrying about the unnamed partner he'd found himself. He was worth a lot more in their eyes, which gave the perfect opportunity to slip away and take care of the threat before it became an even bigger problem. Usually you'd like to let Vash know if you were disappearing off somewhere but circumstance didn't allow it and you just had to hope he'd be able to find you once it was all over. You sprinted down past an old bar, its windows once boarded up but now littered with bullet holes. The place was certainly a ghost town. There had been no sign of life until a suspicious looking individual had emerged from the shadows asking who Vash was. There was no telling what troubles they'd caused here to clear out the townsfolk. Still, you couldn't dwell on maybes and what-ifs. What mattered here was getting out safely. And maybe finding some salvageable food and water to sustain you and Vash on the next leg of your journey.

Peeking out from an abandoned home, you caught sight of five men standing in what used to be the town centre. Whoever these people were they were no amateurs, at least judging by the size of their guns anyway. This could end poorly if you weren't careful. A more defensive approach was in order; sticking to the shadows to conceal your whereabouts was likely the only way you'd come out of this alive. You climbed through the broken window to the empty building beside you, making your way upstairs and onto the balcony. The wood of the balcony seemed to be holding together well enough to keep you mostly hidden from view with a few stray cracks and holes to keep an eye on your targets. It was the perfect spot to line up your gun and take aim without getting yourself caught too soon. You just had to hope the wooden barrier was enough to keep you from harm until you'd taken enough of them down. Your sight was limited, but even a few misses could suffice as warning shots to deter them from getting involved. On many occasions you'd watched grown men run screaming when a bullet struck metres away from their feet. All bark and no bite. Though something told you these men wouldn't go down quite so easily. Your intuitions proved accurate, the blind shots doing little to scare them off.

Within a few shots, your position was compromised and your targets had begun their own onslaught of bullets. A number of bullets struck the balcony though you still remained out of sight for the time being, the few hits you'd managed to land working in your favour to skew their aim. Judging by the speed at which they shot, you'd need to make a move. And fast. If one of them decided to make a run for the house you'd be without a solid escape route. Then, a bullet came flying, striking a wood panel beside you and giving your attackers a direct chance to shoot. You leapt up from your spot, running back into the house to make your escape. Footsteps thundered up the stairs leaving you no choice but to engage. Despite his imposing size, the man was not well-trained in close combat. His moves were predictable and clumsy, leaving one too many openings for you to take advantage of and send him crashing down unconscious. One threat down meant only four more to take care of. Then there was Vash and whatever chaos he was involved in right now. You couldn't let your concern for him cloud you judgement, pushing those fears aside as you made your way down and back out of the window you'd climbed in from. Gunshots were firing at an alarming rate though there was little strategy in it. They didn't know where you were just yet. Waiting behind the wall to the house, you let them edge closer before ambushing them with a fresh round of bullets. Now that you were on ground level, you could see two of the assailants holding back, no weapons in sight—though there was no counting on them being unarmed.

As shots fired, you tried to manoeuvre around the onslaught of ammunition but without sufficient cover you couldn't escape the scrapes of a few bullets. Cursing under your breath as one shot past your cheek and split the skin, you heard a familiar voice calling your name. Vash. He was running like a fire had been lit inside of him. There was an intensity upon his face that you rarely ever saw. Even in the most dangerous and dire of situations, Vash always managed to send you a beaming smile. He was truly the embodiment of sunshine. But right now he was the eye of a storm crashing over all in its wake. He was ruthless with his shots, each one striking true and sending your attackers to the ground. Still alive, but perhaps wishing they weren't. The two men who had been hanging back and watching remained out of Vash's line of sight and, for the time being, out of danger. Not if you could help it. Raising your gun, you set onto the two remaining assailants. They were quick to return fire as they backed towards their car.

"Let them go. We need to get out of here," Vash called, making his way over to you. "Are you oka—" Vash halted mid-sentence, spotting the slow drip of blood down your cheek. Without another word, he was scooping you into his arms and running despite your protests. It was a minor injury, not one to panic over. But Vash didn't seem to think so. He carried you off to the other side of town, making for one of the abandoned homes still in good enough shape to act as sufficient shelter. He sat you down on an old leather couch, the material torn up and worn, as he rummaged through drawers in the neighbouring kitchen to look for something to clean the wound with.

"Can I trust you to stay there while I go back to our car? Assuming it's still in one piece, that is," Vash asked, eyeing up with caution. Worried knitted his brows as he contemplated leaving you here alone and unprotected.

"I can walk, you know? It's just a little scratch."

Vash shook his head, blonde hair as animated as his expression. "Doctor's orders."

"You're not a doctor."

"Am now. Stay there." Vash made for the doorway before turning back to add, "I'm glad you're okay."

When he returned with some supplies, Vash set to cleaning your wound. The bleeding had long since stopped but he was adamant that it required his utmost attention. His movements were gentle as he wiped away the dried blood with a dampened rag of fabric while his other hand softly holding your chin in place. He always touched you with a delicate sense of care, but this felt almost as if he were scared to break you any further. Despite his tenderness, something darker seemed to linger in Vash's face. As if he felt guilty for not being there just that little bit sooner. None of this was his fault. There was no way to predict such an attack would happen. It was simply the way of the land. Whether Vash viewed it that way or not was another matter entirely. Once he deemed you cleaned up and devoid of any other injuries, Vash tossed aside the cloth and leaned forward in his seat. He was uncharacteristically quiet, usually full of energy after making a safe escape from a fight.

"Vash?" Your voice was low, tentative so as not to startle him. "Please don't blame yourself for what happened out there. I'm fine, see?"

His eyes remained fixed on a hole in the flooring as he responded. "They came after us because of me. You got hurt because I wasn't fast enough."

"No." You immediately denied his admissions of guilt, edging closer to place your hands on his cheeks. They were as soft as usual, tinted pink from sun exposure. His eyes were glistening, tears threatening to spill down those rosy cheeks. "This isn't your fault, Vash."

"I was so scared. I thought I'd taken care of the last of them then I turn and see you're gone. I heard gunshots and—" He paused, voice cracking. "You don't know how I relieved I was to see you still alive."

Your heart ached, knowing all too well the fear that had likely stricken him in that moment. "I promised that we were in this together, didn't I? Can't go breaking it just yet." You smiled, heart fluttering at the sight of Vash mirroring the action. Your thumb swiped at a stray tear as you left a soft kiss on the bridge of Vash's nose. His cheeks warmed a deeper shade as he tried to pull away. He flustered easily but still tried to hide it every time to no avail.

"Think we're good here for the night? We could do with sleeping in an actual bed for once. One more night in the car might actually kill me."

Vash nodded, hands finding yours as he pulled you up from your spot on the couch. "Practice for the future, hm? All cosy in a little house. Could be nice. So long as you don't mind the bounty, that is."

"It's worth it if it's you." Vash's hold on your hands dropped, his hands moving to cover his bright, blushing face. Your laugh chimed with the sound of his whining complaints. What the future held in store for you and Vash was unknown, but you were certain that so long as he was smiling, all would be well.

#trigun x reader #vash x reader #trigun stampede x reader #vash the stampede x reader #trigun fanfic #2023 is the year of wolfwood n vash occupying 87% of my brain space #and honestly i don't mind this is great #no number of fics involving this man will sustain me he's just so #anyway goodnight to vash enjoyers and vash enjoyers only #anna writes

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