#i got parried by some guy and he instantly killed me.... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

scxrlettwxtches · 4 years

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a throne of roses | hwang hyunjin

genre: royal au, fluff/angst, fem!reader

warnings: blood, violence, a little suggestive (hehe)

word count: 16.7k+

description: when the king that conquered your country, hwang hyunjin, arranged a marriage for the two of you, not once did you expect to feel any emotion except hatred and bitterness to blossom between you. will you stand to hate your enemy until the end, or will you realize that the cold-hearted ruler is not as cruel as he seemed?

a/n: im back!! im so sorry to have been gone so long. i suffered a huge writer’s block, and even now, im really not sure how this fic holds up despite being my longest story by a lonnnngggg shot. i really hope people like it ahhhh >.< i will get back to my kiss prompts now that i got this monster fic out of the way! as always, i love all of you guys and my ask box/dms are always open if anyone wants to be friends!! <3

prologue.

The city was burning.

Screams and sounds of roaring flame filled the air, the sky clouded from the smoke. You spurred your horse on at breakneck speed with the remnants of your battered army. A horrible deception, a betrayal of the worst kind, sent you to fight on the border while your enemy snuck in, attacking the capitol at its weakest moment.

You burst into the throne room just in time to see a figure standing above your mother and father. Their blood dripped down the marble staircases leading up to the throne, staining the pure white stone into a sickening red.

“No!” You let out a guttural scream as you flung yourself at the man, your wicked blade aimed at his vulnerable throat, ready to kill.

The man whirled to face you at the last second, raising his blade and intercepting your blow with a loud clang that echoed in the room, “Princess,” he smiled in greeting, holding you back as you continued to press your blade firmly against his.

“Hwang Hyunjin, you bastard!” you snarled, twisting out of the sword lock and parrying with his blade skillfully. Staring at the eyes of the wretched king, the ruler that had drove your kingdom into war, your fury was increased tenfold. You wanted nothing more than to slit his throat and throw his dead body out into the streets for what he did to your beloved country.

Hyunjin let out a noise you vaguely recognized as a laugh, “My apologies. I wasn’t expecting you to return so quickly, Your Highness,” he lashed out with a lethal strike, but you almost predicted it, blocking his attack with your blade. Still, Hyunjin didn’t seem the least bit fazed, and he continued to toy with you, enjoying a fight with someone so skilled, “The attack in the south mountain pass was supposed to delay you for more than two days.”

Your blood boiled at his mockery, because no matter if you’d controlled the winds to bring you back to the capitol, Hyunjin would’ve still had the advantage with his much stronger army.

“You know my father was considering your terms of surrender,” you spit out, ducking under his attack and striking at his open left side, but Hyunjin parried it, smirking as your anger grew.

“Well, he was taking a little too long, so I decided to speed up the process,” he replied, a wicked smile on his face as he finally caught an opening, and with a merciless slash of his sword, he nicked your right arm to the bone, cutting through the chainmail and drawing frightening amounts of blood.

There was no time to wallow in the pain. You dropped your sword, catching it with your left hand and continuing your attack, but you were tiring quickly. Fighting your parents’ war had worn you down, and you didn’t have the strength you had when you first started fighting.

Keeping a watchful eye, you felt a spark of hope as you caught an opening. You grabbed it without a second to waste, twisting your blade and aiming at his leg when you suddenly felt a blinding pain on your calf. You let out a cry, fallowing to your knees before the king who only smiled as his subordinates pinned you down, holding your arms back and pressing your face onto the marble floor.

“Do you have any last words, Princess?” Hyunjin cooed as your hair was yanked back, forcing you to look at the cruel man.

“I hope you burn in hell,” you smiled, spitting at the ground before him.

Hyunjin gripped your chin tightly, the smile on his face icy and controlled, “My, my, what a temper,” he chuckled before letting go of your face and backing away. The sun glinted through the windows, shining behind Hyunjin’s head like a halo. How ironic. The man was no angel, not at all.

The last thing you could see was the king’s conceited smile before you felt blinding pain on the back of your head, knocking you out instantly.

“Unlock the cell.”

Your head raised a fraction, your ears perking up at the mere sound of the familiar voice. After you were knocked out, you were dragged back to Hyunjin’s palace as a prisoner of war, chained in a dungeon cell with your hands hanging over your head, your armor having been stripped of you.

As you kept your eyes trained to the floor, Hyunjin’s footsteps padded towards you, stopping right in front of your battered form.

“Princess Y/N. The goddess of victory. A dazzling warrior on the battlefield, feared by her enemies and respected by her subordinates,” Hyunjin’s voice crooned with mock pity, “How does it feel to become the defeated princess, fallen from grace?”

You smirked, finally tilting your head up to glare at him with your cold eyes, “Better than being a coward that’s too scared to finish the job,” you snarled, and the restraints snapped tight as you pulled them with a violent tug.

“You’re really pushing all the wrong buttons, Princess,” Hyunjin sighed, kicking some of the dirt and gravel that had collected in the dungeon away from his foot, “With all the trouble you gave my army, you deserve the most slow and painful death imaginable.”

“Oh? And what else does the infamously sadistic prince of the north have in store for me? I must say, I’ve been rather bored hanging here,” you sneered, making a deliberate show of licking your lips.

For the first time, Hyunjin looked visibly annoyed, his jaw clenching as he hissed almost to himself, “I should have just killed you.”

“Don’t worry, Your Highness. You still have a chance,” you said pleasantly, smiling at the king as if you weren’t chained up in his prison cell.

“Unfortunately, I need you alive.”

You couldn’t help but scoff, “How terrible for you. How might I be of service, Your Majesty” Your voice was mocking, your lips curled in a sneer as Hyunjin studied your face.

The king gave you a halfhearted glare, like he didn’t know whether to punish you for your loose mouth or just let it go because it wasn’t quite worth it. He gazed at you, skeptical intrigue clear in his eyes when he finally muttered, “Release the chains.”

You were not expecting such an order, and frankly, the guard was not expecting it either, “B-but, Your Majesty!”

“I’m not repeating myself a second time,” Hyunjin spoke simply, but his voice had an edge to it, as if daring the man to refuse his command. You could’ve sworn that the guard let out a squeak of fear as he nodded obediently, fumbling through his keys as he began to unlock the chains that cut into the soft skin of your wrist.

When you finally felt the cuffs free your hands, you lost the only support holding you up, and your weakened legs buckled under the weight of your body. Before you could hit the floor hard, a firm body held you up, intercepting your fall and cushioning you with their chest as an arm wrapped around your waist.

“Oh dear,” Hyunjin sighed, easily picking up your weakened and frail body, carrying you in his arms as he walked out of the cell, “What am I going to do with you?”

“You know you could really just kill me,” you mumble in response as your head lolled against his chest, your hand absently bunching up his clothing to find a crevice to hold onto.

“I know,” To your surprise, Hyunjin answered, and in your pain muddled state, he almost sounded gentle, “but I’d rather not do that if I can help it.”

Your tired, dazed eyes stared up at the king, only barely processing his words before sleep wrapped its comforting arms around you, lulling you with soothing words as your eyes finally fluttered closed and your head fell against Hyunjin’s chest.

“No one lays a finger on her. I don’t care if she’s an enemy commander, a foreign princess, or whatever other disgusting things you say,” Hyunjin spoke darkly after he’d tucked you in his bed, pulling the covers over your body. Letting go of his restraint for a moment, he allowed his expression to soften as he brushed a strand of your hair away from your face before his eyes turned ice cold once again.

“Do you hear me? I see one more scratch on her body, and your heads will roll,” Hyunjin’s voice held the undertone of a growl as he stepped away from the bed, “Alert me when she wakes. Immediately.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

ii.

The first thing you noticed about your new surroundings was how soft the mattress was. Your finger twitched as your hand began to feel at the satin bedsheets. The pillow your head rested on felt as fluffy as a cloud, a luxury that you didn’t even have back at your own palace. This wasn’t the dungeon...no...this was--

Your eyes flew open as you sat up, your brain hard-wired for danger as you looked around the room. They were surprisingly lavish lodgings for a prisoner of war, if you could say so yourself. From the red satin curtains on the bed to the intricate designs of the ceilings and the walls, you would even venture and say that this room was fit for a king.

“So, the princess has awoken,” A voice pulled you out of your curious thoughts and immediately replaced them with thoughts of murder and annoyance as Hyunjin strolled into the room, dressed as immaculately as always.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” you replied, keeping your eyes trained on the blankets that covered you as you began to massage your legs through the covers. After a couple days of hanging in the dungeon, your legs had lost their strength and you were practically aching bring them back to their original state.

Unbeknownst to you, Hyunjin smiled at your snide comments, rather enjoying the dry banter, “I didn’t know it would be a pleasure to see me.”

“It isn’t. I was just trying to be polite,” you said without missing a beat, maintaining a deadpan expression as you commented, “You’re quite generous to provide such a lavish guest room to a prisoner that threatens your control over your newly claimed country.”

“This isn’t a guest room,” Hyunjin corrected you as he pulled a chair closer to your side of the bed, sitting down even as you distinctively refused to look at him, “It’s my bedroom.”

Your apathetic expression faltered for a moment, a true sign of just how much the revelation had flustered you, “Your bedroom?” you repeated, a tang of disgust in your tone that couldn’t be missed even if one tried to avoid it.

“Yes, Your Highness, I’m afraid it is,” Hyunjin had wanted you to sleep in comfort. He hadn’t wanted to keep you in the dungeon for so long, but he had gotten distracted with business with another neighboring kingdom, and he didn’t trust his men enough to let them deal with you. After all, you’d put up a difficult fight keeping them out of your kingdom, and many soldiers were bitter with the long war that was raged.

But all of that? He would never tell you.

Sputtering at his nonchalant expression, you finally looked up at him, a scowl on your face, “Are you truly an idiot? The only people allowed to stay in the king’s chambers are the king and--” you suddenly froze, and Hyunjin could see you putting the pieces together in your head as your eyes narrowed at him, and he had to physically hold back his nervous gulp.

“What are you planning, Your Majesty?” your expression was darker than the shadows of the deepest caves, and your knuckles were white from how hard you were gripping the bedsheets.

“Since I’m sure you’ve figured most of it out already, I won’t beat around the bush,” Hyunjin spoke nonchalantly, glancing at your hands for a split second before turning his gaze to your face.

“I want you to be my Queen.”

The silence that screamed between the two of you was shrill and long until you broke it with a choked voice of disbelief, “That’s not funny, Your Majesty.”

“I assure you, I don’t like to joke around,” Hyunjin replied, “I want to wed you and unite our two kingdoms with marriage instead of blood.”

“Well, you should’ve offered that first, don’t you think?!” you snarled, shifting to lash out at the man when you winced, grabbing at your leg that throbbed from your sudden movements, “How dare you say that to me now, after you burned our cities to the ground? After you killed so many of my people?”

Hyunjin was silent for a moment, and if you didn’t know him any better, you might’ve thought he was genuinely contemplating on how to respond. Finally, he sighed, slumping forward in his seat as he reached down and began to gently massage your legs over the covers.

“H-hey--” The protests died in your mouth as the relaxing sensations drove your body to loosen up even as your brain screamed for you to do something. But what could you do? Especially when the gentle ministrations of his hands felt oh so soothing to your worn out muscles.

“Princess, I truly do not want to force you into marriage,” your ears perked up at his curiously gentle tone. What was the man playing at? He sounded almost genuine as he appealed to you.

“Then, don’t,” you replied easily, merciless and without hesitation, “You have already taken over the capitol. I am sure the lords surrendered, they were always a spineless bunch,” you couldn’t hide the spite in your tone. The lack of support from the nobles of your kingdom was another reason you had suffered such a crushing defeat.

Hyunjin let out a chuckle, and his hands squeezed a little softer and with more gentle strokes as if trying to relax you, “Yes, the nobles of your kingdom were quite quick to accept any of my conditions as long as I kept their estates intact,” you scoffed at his words before he continued, “but unfortunately for me, the rest of your people are not as cowardly.”

Your eyes narrowed, “What do you mean?”

“Many riots and small scale rebellions have erupted around the land and in the capitol as well,” Hyunjin admitted, keeping his eyes focused on the blankets around your legs, “We...aren’t familiar with how the country is run, and they are not pleased with the sudden existence of foreign military force.”

“Did you really think they would be overjoyed to see you?” You asked, deadpan.

The king ignored your sarcastic comments, “Small rebellions have begun to emerge, especially in the capitol and in some of the neighboring towns,” he continued, studying your face and gauging your reactions, “They won’t rest until they have their rightful ruler back. Our marriage could solve that and calm the unrest.”

“Marriage can’t be the only option,” you protested, desperate to get out of this, “I can renounce my claim to the throne, and then you’d be the only ruler. You won’t have any need to marry me at all.”

“That can’t happen!” Hyunjin snapped, trying to hide the sudden burst of nervousness that fluttered in his heart, “Your people would never accept that you of all people would renounce your claim. They would just assume I forced you into it.”

“Oh, like the marriage isn’t forced either?” you retorted coldly, crossing your arms.

Hyunjin’s hands on your legs slowed to a stop, “Princess,” his voice was soft, “My men have not begun to enforce the brunt of the law on those riots, but they are growing anxious. The people who are sick of fighting are being targeted by those who call them traitors. Your people are killing each other--”

“And who’s fault is it?” you bared your teeth in a snarl, and if you had a weapon at that moment, you would’ve plunged it into Hyunjin’s shoulder in a fit of rage, “Who’s fault is it?”

The king’s expression grew a little darker, and his hands fell to his sides as he sensed your anger, “I understand your anger, your hatred. If the spots were switched, I would not be listening to a word you say either. But,” his eyes bore into yours, and in them, you found nothing but honest sincerity as he spoke, “you and I both know that I was not the one who started this war.”

You froze, your jaw going slack as Hyunjin’s words seeped into the depths of your heart. He was right; his kingdom did not start the war, yours did. Your parents, becoming greedy for the jewels that Hyunjin’s mountainous kingdom produced, had continued to aggravate and stir up tensions in the border until your army finally threw the first punch.

In the end, it was you who reaped what you sow, and you supposed that this was heaven’s way of getting back at you for your foolishness.

“I have conditions.”

Hyunjin perked up immediately at your words and he nodded, “Let’s hear them,” he said, his expression with its normal mask of impassiveness, but you were beginning to see through it, finding the genuine eagerness that he hid from the world.

“My people will not be treated like second class citizens,” you said, your voice hard. This was something you would never budge on, “They deserve the same rights and the same freedoms as your people.”

“Of course, you have my word,” Hyunjin nodded firmly, “Your people will be treated the same as mine.”

You couldn’t help the flash of approval that shone in your eyes before you cleared your throat, “I will also want to have a say in the new policy reforms you’ll instill on my kingdom.”

Hyunjin was quiet for a moment, but he didn’t seem surprised by your request in the slightest, “That is a given. After all, I don’t want a queen that doesn’t question my orders,” he chuckled as he studied your face, “Although, I am curious. I already gave you my word that I will treat your people well, why do you want to be involved with the policy making?”

“Because you are a conqueror, not a king,” you replied firmly, not ounce of doubt in your words, “at least to my people. You do not understand their temperament and their customs, just as I do not understand yours. If they sense that your new laws do not actively seek out what’s best for them, they will not follow them, marriage or not.”

For a moment, you feared that you had spoken too much, spoken out of turn for a mere prisoner of war, but Hyunjin gave a noise of understanding after considering your words, “I understand. You may be present for every council meeting.”

That surprised you, and you raised a suspicious eyebrow at the king. You had expected him to accept your advice, but you didn’t expect him to give you the permission to give your advice freely in front of his commanders. You didn’t know much about Hyunjin’s laws, but you studied your kingdom’s neighbors enough to know that this was quite unorthodox.

“What?” Hyunjin chuckled as he noticed your suspicious gaze, “You asked for it.”

“I just wasn’t sure your commanders would be very excited to see a woman tell them what to do,” you retorted dryly.

Hyunjin shrugged, looking not the least bit bothered, “If they aren’t, then they lose their post, that’s all,” before you could really acknowledge just how nonchalant he was about giving you power over his council, he looked at you expectantly, “Anything else?”

After pondering for a moment, your fingers fiddling with the sheets absently, you finally decided on the last condition.

“I will be your one and only.”

Hyunjin’s brow furrowed, and at first, you took it to mean discontent with your demand, but it was merely confusion, “What do you mean?”

Your cheeks grew a little hot as you were forced to elaborate on your rather embarrassing request, “You will not take another wife after you are done exploiting me to transition my kingdom into yours,” you spoke simply, not bothering to mince your words any further, “I won’t be arrogant enough to think that I can prevent you from finding a mistress--”

“I don’t want--” The king suddenly interrupted you, and his choked tone of voice was rather unexpected. Hyunjin looked at you as if he had something urgent to tell you, something that was close to bursting out of his mouth if he didn’t decide to say it himself. Yet, when he finally managed to speak, you knew it wasn’t the words he’d originally wanted to say.

“I don’t want a mistress. I have no intention of seeing anyone else romantically after you,” Hyunjin said firmly, his intense brown eyes staring deep into yours to convey his sincerity, “This condition, I can promise you easily.”

You nodded mutely, not wanting to admit how him treating your marriage with steadfast devotion made you feel. It was just purely for political purposes, after all.

“If you agree to uphold those three conditions,” you looked to Hyunjin as you spoke softly, your next words sealing your fate, “then I agree to your proposal.”

For the first time since you’ve met him, Hyunjin let a flash of excitement pass across his face for a moment, “You’ll marry me?” he asked, and if you blinked, you’d missed the eagerness in his tone, “I want you to say it, Princess.”

“Why? Is my word not enough for you, Your Majesty?” Your lips quirked up in a dry smile.

“Are you really so cold as to deny me this one request?” As you gazed at the young king, you noticed the guarded look in his expression, as if he was bracing for you to snap, to lash out at him coldly.

You refused to let it get to you, but you were grateful that he was so receptive to your demands. As a princess of a once flourishing kingdom, you were no stranger to kings, princes, lords, and anyone else of that sort. None of them would ever dream of giving you the courtesy that the man was giving you at the moment. Perhaps you could return the favor at least a little.

“I want to marry you, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin’s genuinely stunned expression stayed in your brain as you went to sleep that night, comfortably swathed in the king’s lavish silk and satin sheets.

iii.

“Not that I’m not excited to return, but why exactly are we going back to my kingdom for the wedding?” You asked curiously as you rode your horse through the mountainous roads necessary to cross into your side of the border, “Isn’t it dangerous to send a captured princess back to her own territory?”

“Ah, but you see,” Hyunjin smiled, the sunlight hitting his face in a way that made him look almost ethereal, “you’re not a captured princess. You’re my fiancé, and it’s a long standing tradition to marry at the bride’s hometown, is it not?”

You rolled your eyes discreetly at his shameless words, giving your horse a light bump of your leg to spur it ahead of Hyunjin’s. Damn northerners and their thick blood, you cursed as you shivered again, still not accustomed to the icy temperatures of the mountains even during the spring.

“Here,” A sudden weight on your shoulders pulled you out of your thoughts, one that was warm and soft. Feeling it with your hands and tilting your head to glance at it, your eyes widened.

“Hyunjin, you absolute idiot, this--”

“Is a royal cape? Yes, I know,” Hyunjin answered nonchalantly, his horse galloping leisurely beside yours.

You sputtered incomprehensibly until you finally managed to put words together, “Only the king can wear this!”

Hyunjin tilted his head towards you inquisitively, “And?”

“It’s basically law!” You exclaimed, wondering if the king truly had some issues like the rumors had stated during your time in the war. Shaking your head, your hand grabbed the edge of the cape, ready to rip it off you when Hyunjin’s hand lashed out, grabbing your hand and stopping your motions.

“Don’t,” his voice was stern as he looked into your eyes, and you felt your blood boil at the light show of concern in his expression, “You’re cold, right? It’ll keep you warm.”

“Did you not hear a word I said?” You scoffed, trying to pull yourself away from Hyunjin, but the road was only so wide, and there wasn’t much room for you to maneuver, “It’s a royal cape. Only the king is allowed to wear it.”

Hyunjin blinked, “Well, I’m the king, so my word is law,” he answered, looking not the least bit bothered, “and I’d rather keep my fiancé healthy than abide by some stuffy tradition.”

You were so flustered by his blunt words that you stopped fighting against his grip. The moment he felt the resistance flow out of your body, Hyunjin flashed you a charming smile before spurring his horse to take a pace just a little faster than yours.

Oh, so that was how he wanted to play. Scowling, you gently kicked the side of your horse, causing them to gallop past Hyunjin as your lips quirked into a pleased smile.

“You know, if you go any faster, you’ll lose our entourage,” Hyunjin mused as he easily urged his horse forward, matching your pace and riding side my side with you, the procession of knights, maids and servants following behind.

Glancing back, you noticed that they were a slight distance away and with a huff of air, you tugged at the reigns, slowing your horse to appease him, “Now, is that really such a bad thing?” you asked, blinking innocently.

Hyunjin gave you a wry smile, one that had grown warmer through the week you’d stayed at his palace. It was a rather strange predicament you had found yourself falling into. Realizing that there was no way for you to avoid the marriage, you had decided to do the only other thing possible to prevent it.

That was to be totally obnoxious to the point where the king would have no choice but to turn his nose up in scorn and leave you to be.

Except, it didn’t quite work that way, and on the contrary, Hyunjin seemed to enjoy bantering with you. In fact, you had a sneaking suspicion that he was trying to pull it out of you, to push your buttons as much as you push his.

It wasn’t what you had hoped for, but it wasn’t there worst possible scenario.

“Hello? Y/N!” Hyunjin reached over, poking your cheek and pulling out a surprised squeak from you.

“What?” you snapped, blushing that you were caught so blatantly with your guard down.

The king gave you a strange glance, also noticing that you were unusually inattentive. His eyes studied your face with something akin to concern in his expression before he dropped the subject, “We’re here, the border.”

You looked around, immediately feeling the wave of nostalgia hit you in full force as you stood at the top of the mountain, gazing at the large expanse of your kingdom, or rather, what was once your kingdom. The lush green fields, the massive trees that looked like specs from where you were, and in the far distance, the capitol city. Your old home.

Suddenly, you felt a gentle nudge on your arm as Hyunjin looked at you, “Let’s scout ahead of the entourage.”

Despite your moment of weakness, you couldn’t help but smirk, sweetness dripping from your words, “Don’t you have scouts in your entourage, Your Majesty?”

“Very funny. You know what I mean,” Hyunjin rolled his eyes, but his expression curled into a sly smile as if daring, goading you towards something, “Don’t you want to race and see who’s really the better rider?”

A predatory smile appeared on your lips, your natural response due to how utterly competitive you were, “Are you sure you want your whole court to witness your loss?”

“Oh, please. You might never want to go out and ride with me again after you experience your crushing defeat.”

The grin you were showing was wicked, not so different from smile that would flit across your face during the heat of a battle, “Don’t run away crying when you lose.”

“I would never run away from you, Princess.”

You only gave him a saccharine smile in return, and without another word, you flicked your wrist, sending your horse forward with a burst of speed. There was no need to look back; Hyunjin was hot on your heels.

The two of you descended down the mountainous path, going faster than normal but staying mindful of the potential dangers. Once you made it to the flat plains, your smile widened and the two of your tore down the road.

For the first time since you’d lost your kingdom, you felt truly free, your long hair and the silk of your dress billowing behind you, the wind blowing in your face as you tore past the plains and into the woods. In a moment of consciousness, you could hear Hyunjin’s laugh from behind you, but you could hardly bring yourself to care. Let him chase you. It only made things more exciting.

You finally pulled your horse to a full stop as you reached the edge of the hill. Breathing heavily, you gazed as the winding road that sloped down, lower and lower until it reached the capitol city. You were home. You stared at the falling sun, the quaint little houses below, and you could almost smell the fresh bread at the corner bakery you frequented back when you were young. sneaking out of the palace because you hated the posh, white bread they served.

Hyunjin pulled his horse to wait beside yours, catching the peaceful smile on your face. There was something alluring about you when you fought against him, but seeing what you looked like when you tasted true happiness, it made his heart soften just a little.

“It’s beautiful,” he commented, slowing his horse down beside yours.

“You should see it during the lantern festivals,” you smiled, looking down at the immense city from a distance, “The city lights up at night, and no one sleeps that entire week.”

“Maybe we should come back to experience it one day,” Hyunjin suggested, his voice casual, but his eyes shrouded with slight uncertainty, knowing that he was probing into untapped territory.

To his surprise, the relaxed smile on your face remained, “That’s not a bad idea,” you mused. Rolling your shoulders, you let out a sigh, looking out at the city below.

Then, reality hit you like a club to the gut as your eyes caught sight of the flag that waved at the front of the castle. Distant, barely discernible, but you knew at a glance. It was not your kingdom’s flag, and it was the cruelest reminder of the reason you were allowed to come home in the first place.

The king followed your line of sight, curious as to what caused such a sudden change in mood. When his eyes fell to the flag looming over the city, it clicked, “Y/N,” he started, swallowing as he considered his words carefully, “I have to establish rule at least for a little--”

“Don’t patronize me,” Your voice was colder than ice, and Hyunjin cursed at ill fate of your relationship. Always half a step forward, then three steps back, “I’m no stranger to conquering cities. Let’s get to the palace before dark,” you flicked the reigns, prepping your horse to begin moving.

“Wait--” Hyunjin’s hand reached over to grab your wrist before he was even fully conscious of his own actions. Surprised, your head whipped around to look at his face before looking down at where his large hand completely wrapped around your thin wrist.

“We have quite some time before the sky begins to darken at all,” Hyunjin reasoned with you calmly, and his thumb brushed against the soft skin of your arm in an instinctive attempt to appease your obvious anger, “And the rest of the court has not yet caught up to us.”

“Do you want us to lay down a cloth on the grass and chat over some afternoon tea?” You scoffed, trying to pull your hand away, but his grip tightened, squeezing his hand around your wrist as if he thought you would disappear right in front of him if he wasn’t touching you.

Hyunjin sighed, “I only want you to let me explain myself.”

If your anger had not boiled over before, it certainly did now. You rounded your horse to face him, your eyes burning with controlled fury, “Explain yourself? What exactly do you need to explain? Your kingdom conquered mine, lay siege to the capitol, burned down the cities in your path, and now you’re taking me as your trophy wife--”

“You’re not a trophy wife, Y/N,” Hyunjin finally interrupted you, his voice firm and steadfast. He looked you straight in the eye, his gaze never faltering as he spoke his mind, “I did not ask you to be my wife just to mutely sit by my side. I want your counsel, your advice, your opinion. You will be my Queen in both name and power.”

Taken aback by his words, your anger faltered and turned only into confusion, “Then,” you spoke, so flustered that you didn’t even notice Hyunjin’s hand had trailed down to hold your hand in his, “what was the point in conquering my country so completely, if you were planning to give me power in the first place?”

Hyunjin smiled, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. You noticed that he smiled like that often; never quite looking fake but never truly happy either, “Your parents.”

Immediately, you stiffened, and just from your reaction, Hyunjin knew his explanation was partially complete, “I needed to remove them from the picture completely, and to do that, I needed a total victory.”

An uncomfortable feeling twisted in your gut. It was your mother and father that he was talking about! You should’ve been furious, spatting at the ground he walked on for his words to both of them, but in the end, you could only protest weakly, “Still, there was no need to--”

“You know they fed off the poor, right?” Hyunjin asked, his voice turning cold, “You know they corrupted the distribution of wealth and crops to fund their own gambling addiction, right?”

Your heart turned to ice as you stared at Hyunjin in absolute horror, “H-how did you--”

“Do you think your kingdom’s secrets stay inside the kingdom forever?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at your naivety, “Envoys talk, rumors spread. The king and queen of your kingdom were not fit to carry the weight of their people on their shoulders.”

Finally having enough of this pain, this scabs of your heart that Hyunjin was cruelly picking at, you snapped, turning your face away, “Then why marry me at all?! If you scorn at my parents’ corruption, why choose me? Is this just a twisted way of shoving their crimes into my face?”

“Because you’re not like them,” Hyunjin answered simply.

A bitter chuckle slipped past your lips, “You sound foolishly certain about that, Your Majesty.”

“I am,” The king did not mince his words. Why should he, when he knew it was true beyond a shadow of a doubt?

“I know you are nothing like them. You were their bandage, desperately trying to make up for their actions,” Hyunjin continued, “You compensated for their depletion of the bank with your own funds, you fed the poor from food storages hidden from the eyes of your parents.”

Unbeknownst to you, his eyes softened and he let warmth into his voice, “You fought me because of a war they started, and they intended you to be the only one who would pay the price for it.”

Your eyes felt uncomfortable tight as if you were about to cry, and under no circumstance were you going to let that happen in front of Hyunjin, “Why tell me all this now?” you asked, your voice uncharacteristically resigned as you kept your eyes trained at the distant palace, “You think I’m not fully aware of their cruelty? You think I haven’t spent my entire life trying to make up for my parents’ actions?”

Hyunjin didn’t speak for a moment, taking in the weight of your words, “If I may ask,” he started softly, “if you knew about it, why didn’t you overthrow them? You certainly had the resources and the support of your people.”

The question brought a dry smile to your face as you turned to look at Hyunjin, “You’re right,” you answered wryly, “why didn’t I? It would’ve been the most logical course of action, don’t you think?” Hyunjin had no answer, because he knew your question was merely a rhetorical one, and he wasn’t about to fall into another one of your honeytraps and let you dodge the question that has plagued his mind since he first crossed blades with you.

“There isn’t anything complicated to it, really,” you glanced at Hyunjin with a sort of resigned annoyance, “I just couldn’t bring it in me to betray my family.”

“Did they ever even give you anything?” Hyunjin asked incredulously, “Did they ever show you affection at all?”

The almost spiteful questions made you laugh bitterly, “No, not at all,” Turning to Hyunjin, you gave a smile that didn’t reach your eyes, “Foolish me, right?”

Hyunjin stared at you, the sly comeback on the tip of his tongue disappearing as soon as it appeared. Despite your cold expression, your eyes told the truth, and he could see that your heart pained at the notion of having covered for your parents since you were old enough to read, only for them to throw you to the wolves, betraying you for money.

“It isn’t foolish to love your parents,” Hyunjin answered softly, causing your eyes to widen in surprise, “It might be just an innate instinct to, even if they mistreat us.”

You let out a disbelieving chuckle, “Maybe you’re right.”

“You don’t have to feel guilt about what happened to them, you know,” Hyunjin turned to face the horizon where the sun was setting behind the palace.

“I don’t.”

“Don’t lie, it’s written all over your face,” Hyunjin said, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, “It’s killing you inside that you didn’t save your parents in time, right?”

You looked down at your hands, your heart burning with festering guilt, “How can I not?”

“You shouldn’t,” Hyunjin said bluntly, “They betrayed you to me, hoping that it would save them, when it only sealed their fate. There was nothing you could do about it.”

“I could’ve stopped you if I was only a moment earlier,” you argued, the guilt that had been bottled up inside you finally bursting out due to his prodding, “If I was only a little faster, then I would’ve--”

“Princess,” Hyunjin’s soft voice cut into your thoughts, “They didn’t deserve your kindness.”

You refused to admit how much his words soothed your anxiety, and in the dead of night, how they’d repeat in your head, allowing sleep to finally defeat the trauma your parents had instilled into you.

iv.

“Your Highness, please come sit down so I can do your hair!”

The sound of your exasperated maids filled your bedroom chamber as you huffed, tying your new silk robe in place before plopping down on the chair in front of the vanity, “What’s the rush? We have four hours before the wedding.”

Chaeryeong clicked her tongue in obvious exasperation, “Spending all your time out on the battlefield since birth, do you even know how much time it takes to get ready? Plus, you’re the future Queen, Your Highness! What would your husband think if you didn’t look prim and proper for the biggest event of your lives?”

Ah yes, your current fiancé.

It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that Hyunjin was doing his utmost to get on your good side. The moment the two of you arrived at your palace, Hyunjin lavished his wealth on you and your upcoming wedding. Every day you spent with him, he’d give you a gift, ranging from a simple rose to silk robes made by the finest tailors on the continent. You’d told him over and over that you didn’t need extravagance like this, but the king paid you no mind, and the boxes continued to be delivered to your bedroom every day.

If you were being honest, your heart had begun to feel a little warmer to him, his gentle actions chipping at your icy walls. It wasn’t just the gifts, it was his unabashed care for you that made you think that he was almost excited to be married to you, a rather outrageous idea in itself.

“Your Highness!” a voice interrupted your thoughts as Yuna scurried over to you, “His Majesty is outside.”

“Outside of this room?” you asked, turning to face her in surprise.

She nodded in confirmation, “He says he has something to give you.”

Hyunjin stood at the other side of your door, already dressed immaculately in his uniform, spotless and practically dripping with charm. He had walked over to your bedroom, eager to present you with his daily gift when Yuna had slipped out and promptly stopped him from going in.

“I just want to give her a gift!” Hyunjin had protested weakly, but with how stern she was being, he felt like a scolded child rather than an all powerful ruler.

“I’m very sorry, Your Majesty, but you cannot see the Princess until the wedding ceremony.”

Hyunjin was practically pouting at that point, fiddling with the velvet black box in his hands, “Can I at least talk to her?” he asked, “I’ll slip it through the door.”

The maid gave him a weary look before relenting, “Fine. Wait here, Your Majesty.”

“Hyunjin?” you called out hesitantly from the other side of the door, his name no longer feeling foreign to your lips.

“How are you feeling?” Hyunjin asked, feeling the waves of anxiety calm just from hearing your voice. You couldn’t help but smile; even in this moment, where a typical king would already be in celebration with his friends, almost always in some sort of brothel, he still came to make sure you were alright.

“Nervous, but who wouldn’t be?” You chuckled, playing with the doorknob, and a part of you yearned to open the door just to get a look at Hyunjin’s face. The two of you have spent practically most hours of the day together for the last couple weeks, either dealing with foreign envoys sending their congratulations or revising the laws for your kingdom; it almost felt strange to not see him at all for the whole day.

You could hear shuffling from the other side before Hyunjin spoke uncertainly, “Oh, I have a gift for you.”

“Again?” A breathless laugh left your lips, “Hyunjin, you’ve already spent an unseemly amount of money on me these last few days!”

“I know, I know, but this one is special!” Hyunjin argued before his hand slipped through the crack, holding a black velvet box. You took it gingerly, still shaking your head in mild amusement as you opened the present, your jaw dropping.

“Hyunjin, this is…” your voice refused to work as you stared at the diamond necklace, individual gems lacing the front part of the chain, worth more than any of the jewelry your mother ever had, and certainly more than the ones in your possession that you’d buy from local jewelers to support their business.

“Do you like it?” Even without seeing him, you could hear the genuine eagerness in Hyunjin’s voice, and it warmed your heart in a way you didn’t know was possible, as if he had wrapped you up in fluffy blankets on a cold winter day.

You smiled, your fingers delicately brushing the silver chain, “It’s beautiful,” you murmured, before speaking a little louder in case Hyunjin didn’t hear you (he did), “It’s really beautiful, Hyunjin. Thank you.”

There was a beat of silence before Hyunjin spoke again, his voice softer than before, which made you lean closer to the door just to hear him. You could guess his purpose, to say something to you before the wedding and to keep it out of the ears of the nosy maids that were currently standing at the corner of your room, giggling and gossiping amongst themselves.

“I-I know that you never wanted this marriage.” Was that a stutter you heard? It couldn’t be.

Hyunjin cleared his throat before continuing, “I know, in some way, I forced you into this, and I apologize. I’ll do my very best to be a husband that is worthy of standing by your side.”

For a moment, you genuinely thought you were dreaming, the king’s words repeating in your head over and over and yet making no sense at all. Him being worthy of standing next to you? Who was the king here? Why was he lowering himself to your status?

“Hyunjin--” your hand was at the door, instinctively moving to push the door open so you could speak to him in person, but his reflex was just as fast, pushing back with his own hand and keeping the door shut.

“Don’t come out! You know it’s bad luck!” Hyunjin scolded you, his voice sounding slightly panicked.

You let out a sigh, wondering why everyone embraced so many of these superstitions, even him, “You’re right, the door stays closed,” you reassured him gently.

Hyunjin didn’t speak for a moment, and you almost thought he had left without a word when he began softly, “I know you didn’t want this marriage, but if your heart could have some room for me,” he swallowed, “any room at all, wear the necklace when you walk down the aisle.”

When you returned to the vanity, a dazed expression on your face as the maids giggled and continued to apply your makeup, you looked at your own appearance in the mirror, your hand gently brushing over the simple necklace that currently adorned your neck.

In accordance to the traditions of your kingdom, if your father was not alive to present you to your husband, it was expected of you to wear a gift from them as a symbol of their claim over you. The plain necklace with a single pearl charm in the center of it was the only jewelry you’d ever received from your father, and if you were being blatantly honest with yourself, you despised it.

Unconsciously, your other hand moved to rest atop the black velvet box now sitting on your vanity. Where your father’s jewlery felt like unwanted possession, you thought back to Hyunjin’s words.

“I’ll do my very best to be a husband that is worthy of standing by your side.”

Why did those words send your heart into rapid beating? Why did those words feel so freeing, hearing your husband-to-be proclaim before his vows with such intimacy, only for your ears?

It didn’t take more than two minutes to come to a decision. You knew the path you had to take, the one that would allow you to break from the past and the constant obligation you’ve always felt.

“Yuna.”

“Yes, Your Highness?” Your maid smiles, immediately standing to attention as you open the black box. The other maids gasped at the sight of such a priceless artifact before them.

“Help me replace my current necklace, please.”

The wedding went without a hitch and you were officially the bride of the most powerful man on the continent. Even as the feast proceeded, your people utterly ecstatic that their beloved princess had been married off in such style, you found yourself playing with the ring that weighed down your fourth finger. It was just felt...foreign.

As the night came to a close, and even the most drunken partygoers were politely escorted out of the palace gates, you were ushered into your bedroom by your maids, who looked a little too eager to have anything good planned.

“What are you all giggling about?” you sighed as they gently combed out the flowers in your hair.

“It’s your first night with the king, Your Highness!” Yuna answered, massaging your hands gently, “We have to pretty you up!”

“Oh?” you raised your eyebrows at her in suspicion before lightly jabbing her side, “Are you saying that I’m not pretty already?”

Yuna fluttered her lashes innocently, “I didn’t say that, Your Highness,” Yeji and Ryujin hid their smiles and you only rolled your eyes, never finding it in you to be hard on any of them. The five maids have been by your side since you were young, and you were more than elated when Hyunjin had agreed to summon them back to the palace despite that they, more often than not, made you want to tear your hair out.

Like right now.

“I am not wearing that,” you shook your head, your voice dropping into a low growl. But one thing that always drove you a little insane, none of the girls were afraid of you.

Lia held up the lace sleepwear, smiling at you, “Hm? Why ever not?” She asked, as if the robe wasn’t practically sheer and leaving almost nothing to imagination.

“I’m dressing to go to bed!”

“Yes, going to bed with him, your new husband!” Chaeryeong laughed ushering you behind the divider, “Come on, you’re wearing that nightgown or we’ll tell His Majesty about the time you tried to climb the tower--”

“Fine! Demons, all of you,” you growled without any bite to it, and the only response were the laughter and giggles of your handmaidens.

Hyunjin walked towards the bedroom, still wearing his uniform from the ceremony. Every few steps, he’d glance at the ring on his fourth finger. It wasn’t anywhere near the most expensive piece of jewelry he owns, but you had chosen it for him. You, his newly wedded wife. It made him positively giddy just thinking about it, but he contained himself because he was a king, for goodness sakes.

The door to his bedroom opened as the maids excused themselves. He recognized them as your handmaidens, especially because you had personally went up to him to request--no, demand politely--that they be brought back to your side.

What was curious, though, was the way they were giggling amongst themselves, giggling that only grew when they spotted Hyunjin in the corridor. They gracefully curtsied at him before practically sprinting down the hall.

Hyunjin shook his head with a resigned smile as he opened the door to your now shared bedroom, “Your handmaidens were giggling nonstop as they walked out--”

The king’s voice completely failed to work for a solid minute as he gazed upon your figure, abashedly sitting on the edge of the bed. While he’d always thought you were beautiful, ever since the first, bloody meeting with your swords clashing, this was the first time he realized that you weren’t just beautiful, you were utterly divine.

Whatever self restraint he had, the secret affection he’d buried for so long, it burst out like a raging fire.

“Hyunjin--” your words were cut short as the man rushed forward, his hand cupping your cheek as his lips smashed against yours, taking the gasp of surprise right out of you.

It was unreal, the way you were being kissed, the way Hyunjin was kissing you. It was like nothing you’ve ever felt before, like a gust of wind was sweeping you off your feet. His lips were both gentle and insistent, tugging and giving to you in a way that gave you no choice but to let him in.

Your hands gripped at his uniform as Hyunjin hovered over you, his hands ghosting over your bare thighs as he gently guided you to lie down on the bed, never once pulling away from you. Hyunjin’s hands were roaming everywhere, cupping your face to touched the lace fabric on your waist.

His name fell out of your lips as he squeezed your thighs, his tongue coming to explore your mouth with a sort of urgency. It felt like the more you gave him, the more he took.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed out as he finally pulled away for a moment to breathe, his lips inches away from yours. Glancing down, his hand trailed to your neck, leaving featherlight touches on the soft skin as he marveled at the way you looked all splayed out on the bed for him, “And that necklace, it looked stunning…” he trailed off as he began to work at your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin.

He was just so good. His hands knew exactly where to touch, where to be gentle. His lips knew when to be soft and when to be aggressive. As your hands instinctively moved to card through his soft black hair, a small part of you, a tiny speck of doubt in your mind festered. How many times has he done this to be so experienced? How many have been in the receiving end of his ceaseless praises and touches?

It was only a hint of doubt, and you tried to shove it within the depths of your mind. Hyunjin’s relationships before your marriage shouldn’t matter, and to be brutally honest, you didn’t hold yourself in high enough esteem to think that you’d be able to keep his interest for even more than a few days. As your mother had once said in scorn, you were more soldier than lady.

When Hyunjin’s lips trailed from your collarbones to just above your breasts, you began to squirm a little, the panic slowly seeking into your body. The king, enraptured by his actions, continued to travel lower and lower, and the anxiety in your chest only grew until it snapped as his hands slipped under your nightgown.

“H-Hyunjin—wait—stop, please stop—” you gasped out, frantically beginning to struggle and writhe beneath him. There wasn’t much of a fight, however, because the moment your panicked tone made it to Hyunjin’s ears, he backed away, completely getting off you and kneeling beside your breathless form, his eyes wide with an expression you’ve never seen on his face before.

Horror.

“I-I’m so sorry,” he choked out as his hands fluttered anxiously around you, debating whether or not to help you or not to touch you out all. In the end, his hands delicately rested on your shoulder as he helped you sit up. Stupid, why couldn’t he read the signs?

You shook your head as you began to shiver, the heated atmosphere from before now fading from your bones, “N-no, I’m sorry,” you whimpered, wrapping your arms around your body as if to protect yourself. From him. It made him sick to his stomach.

“Don’t be sorry. It was my fault,” Hyunjin said firmly, and he grabbed one of his robes that were hanging somewhere in the bedroom, quickly returning to your side and throwing it over your shoulders, wrapping you up in clothing that actually covered you.

What had happened? Hyunjin knew you were enjoying it at the onset. He could feel you kissing back, getting swept away as your hands lightly tugged at his hair. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have went so far to the point where he lost control of his own desire. When did you start panicking?

“No, not at all, Your Majesty,” you spoke softly, tugging at the robe around your shoulders to wrap it tighter around your frame, and Hyunjin had to physically hold back a flinch as his title fell out of your lips. You were his wife, for god’s sake! You didn’t need to call him that.

“I’m just...I’m merely overreacting,” you continued, hugging your knees to your chest and looking smaller than he’d ever seen you, “I understand that it’s a queen’s duty to...produce an heir,” you dipped your head, avoiding his eyes, “And I know this is a rather outrageous request, but I don’t want this until there’s at least some sort of affection between us.”

Hyunjin took a moment to process your words before his eyes widened. Oh dear, you’ve got this all wrong. You truly didn’t know. You didn’t know how much thought he’d put into the gifts he sent you. You didn’t know the way he’d tossed and turned the night before the wedding, childishly giddy at the very thought of marrying you. You didn’t know and didn’t realize it at all.

But it was alright. He could tell from just one look at you that you weren’t ready. And that was alright. He would wait. He’d wait his whole lifetime for you.

“You aren’t overreacting,” Hyunjin said, his voice gentle as he moved to stroke your soft hair, “And you aren’t my queen just to produce an heir, you’re much more than that. I won’t ever push you until you’re ready.”

Your eyes widened at his words and your head whipped up to look at Hyunjin, who was now sitting on his legs on the bed in front of you, “B-but, what would people say?” you asked.

“We can pretend if it makes you uncomfortable, and if I hear any malicious rumors, I’ll put a stop to them,” Hyunjin answered, not an ounce of doubt in his words.

Despite your shaken state, you couldn’t help but chuckle softly, “How very terrifying, no wonder they call you the Ice King of the North,” this wasn’t the first time you’ve used that nickname on him, but it no longer held the malice it used to. Rather, there was a small playfulness to it, a gratitude for him being so understanding.

Hyunjin was happy to play along, anything to make you feel more at ease around him, “That’s a total farce,” he grumbled, “I never tortured soldiers for information, I just predicted their moves. I don’t need to stoop that low to win my battles.”

“Oh, you poor little one,” you said with mock pity, reaching up to pet his hair as if soothing a child.

“Little one?” Hyunjin’s lips curled into a smirk as he rounded on you like a predator stalking its prey, “Are you sure I’m the little one here?”

“Hyunjin,” you warned, although it was hard to fight the smile from appearing on your face as you scooted away from you, “Don’t you--Hyunjin!”

You let out a squeal as Hyunjin pounced on you, attacking mercilessly with tickles as you fought back with the same amount of vigor. It was no use, though; Hyunjin was broader and had more than a head over you in height.

Your hand managed to latch onto a pillow and you took it smacking the side of his face hard with the fluffy object. The tide was turned, and you managed to slither out from under him, hitting him as you laughed.

When you finally fell back on the bed, breathless and giggling, Hyunjin rolled over to you slowly. Cautiously, his hand wrapped around your waist, and to his utter surprise, you made no moves to push him away. Instead, you looked comfortable with the gesture, letting him pull you to his side gently.

“I’m glad it’s you.”

“What?” You looked up in surprise, feeling yourself snug against his chest as Hyunjin hummed, silently moving the covers up over your shoulders to keep you warm.

“I’m glad I married you,” Hyunjin murmured again, resting his head on yours.

You were silent for a long moment, his words ringing in his head. They were so gentle, so outrageously innocent for a man who you’d hated only a few weeks before. Slowly, your hand shifting, gently resting on his chest as you spoke softly, “I’m...glad it’s you, too.”

Hyunjin’s body tensed in surprise as if he wasn’t quite expecting you to parrot the words to him at all, and especially in that soft voice that only came out when you were showing your most vulnerable sides to him. His arm tightened around your waist as you closed your eyes, happily nestled in the embrace of your new husband.

interlude.

“Your Majesty. Your Majesty!” A servant waved his hand urgently as he rushed down the hallway.

Hyunjin stopped short in his conversation with one of his commanders, Minho, spinning on his heels to address the man, “Yes, what is it?”

“Here is the invitation list for Her Majesty’s coronation,” he said, handing Hyunjin a long piece of parchment paper. The king unrolls the document, scanning through the guest list quickly before rolling it back in place, “Do away with this list.”

The messenger gawked at his request, utterly dumbfounded, “Your Majesty?” He stammers, puzzled.

“This list only includes the most high ranking officials and lords of the kingdom,” Hyunjin handed the parchment back to the messenger, “I want the throne room opened to all.”

“All?” Hyunjin’s commander sputtered, finally interjecting into the conversation, “Your Majesty, that would be a huge risk to take regarding security! Anyone could potentially sneak in and--”

“My Queen is not the type to only care for the noblemen, but also the rest of our people. We’ve already discussed it in length. She wants the common people present at her coronation as well,” Hyunjin replied.

Minho bristled internally. It had only been a few weeks since the king had brought home his new bride. The fact that he had not consulted with any of his military and economic advisors was already outrageous, and what made it even worse was how obviously besotted with her he was.

Minho disliked her, along with the rest of the nobles. She was foreign blood and she was a technical prisoner of war. She also seemed to prioritize the commoners more than the people that actually paid for this monarchy. She threw a wrench in their plans, and they all hated her.

“Commander? Do you have anything to say in your defense?” The king’s icy tone broke into the man’s thoughts, Hyunjin’s eyebrow raised expectantly.

It was only too bad that the king protected the queen almost more than he did his own life.

“Nothing, Your Majesty. You are right, of course,” The experienced commander knew when to show his white flag, dipping his head in agreement. There was no point in angering his king over something as trivial as this.

Hyunjin obviously didn’t buy his saccharine sweetness, but he wasn’t petty enough to point it out either, “Speaking of the Queen,” he turned to the messenger, “would you happen to know where she is right now? She had wandered off to explore the palace after our military meeting adjourned.”

“Ah,” the poor boy blushed, feeling quite suddenly put on the spot as he answered, “I believe I saw her wandering into the garden, Your Majesty.”

The king could not hide a fond smile from flitting across his face in a brief moment of weakness, “I see, thank you,” he nodded at the boy, and the messenger was more than happy to excuse himself from Hyunjin’s presence. Finally left alone with the commander, Hyunjin turned to him smoothly, “Continuing our previous conversation, I will not enforce a toll between the borders of mine and the Queen’s kingdom. If you don’t have anything else to discuss, you are excused.”

Ah, it’s always the Queen, the Queen, the Queen. Minho thought it was nothing short of repulsive at how only the name of the woman would have his king turning over and showing his belly like an excited kitten. Gritting his teeth, he bowed, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

If this goes on any further, Minho might have to take matters into his own hands. But, for the moment, he didn’t need to get his hands dirty yet. A smile quirked up on his face as he mused about certain...possibilities. Maybe, with the coronation open to all, he wouldn’t even need to lift a finger.

vii.

To be honest, when Hyunjin was growing up, he had believed himself incapable of love. When his father had died early on in his life, he was raised by a mother that knew nothing but greed and a thirst for power. She controlled him like a puppet on strings, using her own son as a vessel for her own agendas. It had taken all of Hyunjin’s effort to finally break free from his mother’s clutches, and when he emerged into the world as a young king, he realized that he was well and truly destined to be alone.

But as he walked around the royal gardens, in search of his wife, his heart making a light skip at the mere prospect of seeing her, he wonder if this was what love was supposed to feel like. And as he stopped short, seeing the back of a familiar woman sitting on the bank of a small pond, her simple, yet elegant dress splayed out gracefully on the ground, he knew this was exactly what love was supposed to feel like.

Smiling to himself, the king walked over to you, shedding his uniform jacket and gently draping it over your small form, “Spending time with the bunnies again?”

You barely bat an eyelash as the familiar weight of Hyunjin’s coat fell upon your shoulders, holding onto it to keep warm as you smiled up at him, “Didn’t Commander Lee want to speak with you alone? What are you doing out here?”

“The conversation was more trivial than I’d expected, so I cut it short,” Hyunjin waved off your worries, sitting down on the grass beside you. Suddenly to his right, two small, cream colored bunnies jump out from the bushes, bounding over to you, already familiar with your presence since you’ve spent much of your free time here.

“Are you sure you should be making your displeasure so obvious? You know we rely on their military strength,” you spoke as you gently reached out to one of the bunnies, tickling its nose with your finger, a light frown on your face as you looked at Hyunjin.

“I’ve made it very clear what I expect from them, and yet they keep disobeying me,” Hyunjin muttered, angrily ripping at the grass to vent his obvious frustrations.

As you studied Hyunjin’s face, you couldn’t help but sense that there was more to his anger at his commanders than he was letting on, “There’s something else, isn’t there?” you approached him cautiously.

Hyunjin looked up at you, surprised, “What do you mean?” One of the bunnies hesitantly bounded over to him, and the king awkwardly pet them, trying his best to be gentle, especially after you’d given him a big scolding about being to aggressive with them a few weeks ago.

“You’re not just angry because they question your policies,” you explained, your eyebrows furrowed in gentle concern, “I mean, I question you all the time, and we’ve only been married for a few weeks.”

The king couldn’t help but chuckle at that, “But it’s different when it’s you.”

“Why? Because we’re married?” you laughed at the sheer cheesiness of the statement, giggling as Hyunjin nuzzled his face into your shoulder playfully.

“What else could it be, darling?” the name fell out of his lips so naturally, he almost had to do a double take with how close he was to saying it like he genuinely meant it, and not just as a lighthearted joke between the two of you.

Instead of pushing him away, you smiled, reaching to gently ruffle his hair, “Don’t avoid the question,” you murmured softly, “what’s got you all worked up?”

Hyunjin debated for a moment before sighing. He could never refuse you of anything, “I don’t like how they treat you,” he said, his voice flat, “I don’t like the way they glower at you when they think you don’t notice, the way they keep trying to subtly tell me to find another wife.”

There was a moment of silence as you stated at him, almost dumbfounded. Then, to Hyunjin’s utter surprise, your lips curled into an amused smile, “That's it?”

Oh, the utter nerve of you! Hyunjin would feel offended if it weren't for the fact that he was angry for your sake in the first place, “That's it?” He repeated in disbelief, “Aren't you annoyed at all? They dislike you for no reason other than the fact that you're not one of them. Doesn't that make you even a little angry?”

“Why should it?” You merely shrugged your shoulders, smiling down at the bunny that was burrowing into your stomach for warmth, “Their twisted thinking is not my responsibility to change. If they're determined to hate me, no amount of money, fear or kindness will change that.”

It was quite amazing, seeing you so nonchalant. Hyunjin had done his best to help you adjust to the new customs, the colder weather, everything that might potentially pull you out of your comfort zone, but you took everything with such grace, such an aura of indifference. It almost turned him on every time he saw you brush off Minho’s jagged comments about your appearance, your background, your parent's crimes with a simple quip in return that would turn the commander's face a shade of deep red.

“You’re unreal,” The words fell off of Hyunjin’s lips before he could even process them. You're unreal? Hwang Hyunjin, you're supposed to be a notoriously smooth talker, a true diplomat!

The look on your face showed your surprise at his sudden comment as you asked almost worriedly, “What’s going on with you today?”

“What do you mean?” Hyunjin cleared his throat, desperate to salvage this rather awkward conversation.

“Well, you seem more emotionally charged than normal,” you commented, “Did something happen?” A mischievous sparkle appeared in your eyes, “Someone catch your eye?”

“Of course. You.”

“Flattery won't make me go easy on you during our sparring practice,” you hummed absently, all of your attention devoted to the bunny in your lap as you tickled its nose with your gentle finger, cooing.

Hyunjin couldn’t help but pout as his advances were all being brushed away, and he felt a little like a shy prince courting a lady for the first time. He glanced at the bunny with an expression akin to mild disdain, “You seem to play favorites, My Queen.”

You chuckled, lifting the small creature into your hands as it curiously sniffed at you, “Well, Sungie enjoys my company, too, more so than the others.”

“Sungie?” Hyunjin repeated the name. He disliked it, mentally apologizing to whoever he’d meet in the future that had the unfortunate fate of being named Sungie.

His blood boiled in a way that a petulant child’s would as he watched you giggle, pressing a light kiss to the bunny’s nose. Wonderful. Not only was this Sungie stealing your attention, he was stealing your kisses, too. When was the last time you kissed him?

Far too long ago.

Hyunjin sighed, and he gave up on his attempts to steal your attention, opting to tell you the more important news, “Your coronation is confirmed for next week.”

Your entire body froze, and you placed Sungie back into your lap, “That’s early,” you responded, and Hyunjin didn’t miss the thin layer of tension in your voice, the only sign that becoming the queen of two kingdoms was more daunting to you than you like to show, “I thought you said the nobles would never agree to it.”

“I think they grew tired of opposing you, since it’s so goddamn hard,” Hyunjin said, and your lips quirked into a wry smile, unconsciously driving him to do the same, “The head of staff gave me the normal list of the same, boring rich military men, but I told him to change it according to what we’d discussed.”

You didn’t speak for a long moment, your eyes drifting off into the distance as if thinking very carefully until his name fell out of your lips, “Hyunjin.”

“Yes?” The king tilted his head towards you inquisitively.

“Aren’t you tired of me telling you what to do?” You asked, meeting his gaze with an unreadable expression on your face, “You married me, the princess of a defeated kingdom, and I prance around making my own rules and then now uprooting your traditions. Aren’t you annoyed at least?”

Hyunjin only shrugged, “I didn’t chose you out of all people to be my queen just for you to stay silent,” he answered before letting out a fond chuckle, “And besides, you never tell me what to do. You just come in with a strong suggestion and we either argue about it civilly or we duel it out. That’s called council, and it’s exactly what you’re supposed to be doing.”

For the first time, you stared at Hyunjin in a new light. Was it just because of his words, or was your heart fluttering because of him? Hyunjin didn’t seem to notice how much his words meant to you, beginning to click his tongue sweetly at one of the nearby bunnies, petting their soft fur. Strange, he didn’t seem this attractive the few times he’d done this before.

“Are you alright?” The man in your thoughts interrupted your daydreaming, “You’ve gone all quiet.”

You could only hope that the warmth on your cheeks didn’t show, “I’m alright,” you replied quickly, diverting your attention to Sungie, who had woken up, trying to burrow himself in your lap, “Just thinking about the coronation.”

“I see. Are you excited?”

“Excited?” You repeated with a chuckle, “I can’t say I’m dreading it, but would anyone be excited to carry the weight of two kingdoms on their shoulders?”

“Not everyone thinks about ruling in that way,” Hyunjin reasoned, reaching for one of the bunnies.

You shrugged, “Maybe, but I don’t want to treat my power like something I can carelessly wield--ah, not that aggressively!” Your eyes widened as you grabbed Hyunjin’s wrist when you noticed him reach for one of the bunnies without letting it come to him.

“Why? I was going slow!” Hyunjin spoke defensively, all of his senses heightened at the feeling of your small yet firm grip around his wrist. Cute, your hand didn’t even completely wrap around his.

“Wait for him to come to you,” you instructed him, guiding his hand forward in the right movements to beckon some of the bunnies over to him. All your attention was diverted to helping him, and yet, Hyunjin could not take his eyes off your face, your perfect features, the kindness in your eyes, and those perfectly kissable lips.

He couldn’t wait until the day that a golden crown would adorn your hair, and you would sit in the throne beside him, a spot that no one else but you were worthy of.

viii.

“Are you nervous?”

“Do you want me to lie to you and say that I’m not?” You replied from where you were standing in front of the full length mirror, Yeji and Ryujin putting on the last few accessories of your coronation dress. Per your request, the gown was bold, dark red chiffon falling to the ground with accents of gold plated metal on your shoulder plates. It was a statement, a statement that would tell Hyunjin’s kingdom that you were no prisoner, and a statement that would tell your own kingdom that you were still their princess in heart and soul.

Hyunjin leaned against the doorframe, watching you get ready and conversing with you. For a brief moment, you wondered if he’d sensed your nerves that morning, and had come to bother you only to get your mind off of the main event.

You stared at your own reflection, unwavering. But yet, the woman that stared back at you, the woman who was about to be crowned the queen of two powerful kingdoms, felt unfamiliar. This, this powerful woman, she didn’t feel like you. What good have you ever done with your power? What good will you ever do with your new power?

“Yeji, Ryujin, leave us,” Hyunjin suddenly spoke up, although not unkindly. The two handmaidens slipped their hands away from their work, having only to check the corset straps before they were done with you.

When they left the room, you watched silently in the mirror as Hyunjin pushed off from the doorframe and made his way towards you. The king didn’t seem to be in a rush to speak either, and he took the corset straps delicately in his hands before securing the corset.

“I’m not ready,” Hyunjin said softly as he concentrated on his task, “That was the only thought running through my head on the day of my coronation.”

You didn’t speak, taking in the weight of his words, “I remember,” you answered softly, and as you watched Hyunjin’s brow furrow in concentration as he checked your corset, you couldn’t help but notice how intimate the moment was. “You were only fifteen when the former king passed away.”

“I was groomed for this role all my life,” Hyunjin hummed, slipping his finger into a few of the corset layers to loosen it just a little so you could breathe easier, “Ever since I was born, every waking moment was spent preparing me to be king, and yet, when I stood up there, I never felt more like an imposter than at that moment.”

It was surprising, hearing that Hyunjin, such a cool, levelheaded monarch even at his young age didn’t feel like he belonged on that throne, even though he of all people deserved to sit in it. You didn’t think that he did before, but after seeing him, spending every day supporting him, you realized that, beneath his disarming smile, his heart was gentle and he cared oh so much.

“My Queen,” your eyes widened as you felt Hyunjin take your hands in his, and you turned to face him, admiring the beautiful features that adorned his face. You could count his eyelashes, gazing into the plethora of hazel brown shades in his soft eyes, his soft, plump lips looking so kissable.

Hyunjin held your hands delicately, rubbing his thumbs against the back of them in an effort to soothe your worries, “You will be the most beloved Queen that the kingdom has ever had,” he murmured, “It might not be immediate, and it might not be in the next week, but there’s no one else that is worthy of the title.”

“When will I feel that way?” You swallowed as you looked into his eyes, letting your vulnerability show, “When will I ever feel that I’m ready?”

The king smiled at the question, squeezing your hands, “You won’t,” he said, an almost bitter taste to his words, “You will never stop second guessing yourself, no matter how long you wear that crown,” Hyunjin didn’t mince his words, knowing that you didn’t need shallow reassurance right now. You needed the truth.

“But, you can’t stop just because you don’t believe you’re ready,” he continued, reaching up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, “Just know, you’re enough. You will always be enough.”

Goddamnit, Hyunjin was making it very hard for you not to fall in love with him.

You took a deep breath, grounding yourself as you felt the tension leave your shoulders, “Feel better?” Hyunjin gave you an encouraging smile, seeing you that you looked more like your usual self.

“Much,” you smiled up at him, reaching a gentle hand up to brush a stray strand of hair away from his face.

An hour later, you knelt before Hyunjin on the velvet carpet your head dipped down as the king recited the vows, the vows in which you were taking as the new queen. The pews were filled to the brim with people of all kinds, merchants, farmers, blacksmiths, maids, everyone eagerly trying to get a glimpse of you, your dress, your appearance.

You repeated the vows, and with the dumb stroke of luck, your nerves refused to get the best of you, and you managed to go through the three-page long speech without any major slips. The crowd let out gasps of wonder as the crown, a marvelous artifact in itself with its gold base, its red rubies and diamond embellishments, was taken off its safe place on a red cushion. And with the gentlest of touches, Hyunjin slipped the crown atop your head as you looked down at the ground beneath his feet. As you lifted your head, you could’ve sworn Hyunjin had given you the most fleeting of winks, but you felt an ease flood through your jittery bones.

He stretched out his hand to you, gentle and inviting, and you slipped your hand in his, letting him help you up. Subconsciously, you held back the sudden urge to lean forward and press your lips against his. Unbeknownst to you, Hyunjin was restraining himself from doing just that.

As the two of you turned to face the adoring crowd, Hyunjin called out in a booming voice, “Long live the Queen!”

The sentiment carried on and on, echoing in the halls as you held Hyunjin’s hand tightly. You could feel the glower on the faces on the nobles, glaring at you with constrained hatred, but you could care less. The people wanted you, accepted you as their queen, and that was more than enough for you.

Smiling up at Hyunjin, feeling relief flood through your bones, the two of you were filled with glee as the cup bearer came out with the two glasses of wine to complete the ceremony, the unification of the king and queen.

“Want to give them something to remember?” Hyunjin murmured in your ear, taking his own glass.

“And how do we do that?” You smiled, raising the glass of red wine to him gracefully.

The king’s eyes sparkled with a mischief that only appeared when he was truly happy, when he was utterly content, and one of his arms snaked around your waist, pulling you snug against him. The other, holding the wine glass in hand, looped around yours as the people began to clamor excitedly at the spectacle, “Like this, obviously.”

The close proximity made you blush, and you stared at Hyunjin, your heart pounding.

“What’s wrong?” He teased you, leaning closer, “Too shy?”

No, it wasn’t that, you thought as the two of you linked arms, getting ready to drink the wine together. All the moments your heart had fluttered, all the moments you felt as if time stood still whenever he held your hand, it all pieced together like a puzzle that was meant for only you to solve.

Ah, you really did love Hwang Hyunjin.

Tipping the glass upward, you caught sight of a small commotion in the pews behind Hyunjin. It sounded different from the excited squeals and gasps of the rest of the crowd at you and Hyunjin’s show of affection. It sounded almost like…

A man burst out from the seats, jumping over the rows as people screamed in terror and tried their best to get out of harms’ way. In that moment, you assumed he was here to attack you, especially with the manic look in his eyes and the razor sharp knife gripped in his hand. Hyunjin had warned you, after all, that not everyone in his kingdom was pleased that he’d married a princess from a foreign land they were at war with.

But he wasn’t aiming at you. He was aiming at Hyunjin.

Out of pure hatred and craze, he reached the two of you, slipping out of the guards’ grasp and advancing towards Hyunjin, his knife ready to sink into his heart. There wasn’t a moment left for hesitation, and in that split second, you lashed out, standing in front of Hyunjin and intercepted the knife with your hand.

Time stood still as your own life blood trickled down your arm, the horrified gasps of the crowd became irrelevant, and you finally got a good look of who was trying to kill your husband. Your eyes widened, and from the distant past, you recognized the man.

“Y/N!” Hyunjin’s voice broke you from your moment of epiphany, and you realized that the guards were already onto him, even as you gripped the knife harder, digging it further into your palm as the attacker struggled to pull it out.

“Wait,” you grit your teeth at the pain, glaring at the guards and tilting your head. Reluctantly, they pulled away from the man, obviously uncomfortable with the idea of watching this random person, this crazed attacker, hurt their newly crowned queen.

“Y/N--”

“I said, wait.”

Even Hyunjin froze at your tone, and the crowd died down, their earlier cries turning into conspiratorial whispers. What was the Queen doing? Has she gone mad? Is she ordering the King around?

Ignoring the commotion, the obvious stain that was now forming in your reputation, you looked the man straight in the eye and asked softly, “You’re...you’re one of my soldiers from the war, aren’t you?”

The man’s jaw went slack, utterly dumbfounded that his commander, and now his new queen had remembered him, a lowly foot soldier that lagged behind in the last regiments, “Your Majesty,” he stuttered over his own words. In his eyes, there was no anger left, only horror at what he had done, what he could’ve done, “I didn’t mean to--I only wanted some form of satisfaction.”

“I know,” you answered softly, loosening your grip on the knife as you noticed that his earlier resolve was crumbling. The man sank to his knees before you, and to the sheer horror of the noblemen in the crowd, you did the same for him, “I know. But this isn’t the way to achieve it.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Y-your Majesty--” At last, the man dropped the knife and you let go, allowing the bloodied weapon to clatter to the floor. You ignored the rest of the world, you ignored the blood flowing freely from your wound, and you leaned forward, murmuring the words that you always uttered to your soldiers before every battle.

“Do you trust me?”

The man hesitated for a moment before answering softly, but without doubt, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

You smiled, “Then I will rebuild our kingdom in a way that will make you proud. I swear it.”

Knowing that your job was done, you backed away, and the man allowed the guards to take him away without any resistance. Then, from your right, you could hear Minho snicker under his breath, covering their mouths with mock politeness, and your face burned.

“Some queen she is.”

Despite the walls that you put up to hide your fears, your anxieties, you were only human, and you avoided the gaze of the crowd, knowing what they must think. A lowly queen that would bow before her own subjects, make promises to them rather than keeping her head high and mighty.

You didn’t regret what you did for a moment, but you knew how terrible this must look, and how awfully this might impact Hyunjin.

The sound of soft clapping made your ear twitch. Then, it grew louder, it grew into cheers, it grew into clamoring, until by the end, the hall was filled with the excited sounds of the people, drowning out the mocking laughter of the noblemen. You stared out into the crowd in dumbfounded awe as the roaring chant reverberated in your ears.

“Long live the Queen!”

ix.

“Ow!”

You let out a hiss of pain as you sat in your nightgown by the vanity, your injured hand outstretched so it could be treated properly.

Ryujin clicked her tongue in mild annoyance, “Hurts, right? Maybe you should remember that the next time you grab a blade with your bare hands!” She snapped as she dabbed at the cut with a purple salve that the doctor had given you.

Glancing at her, you couldn’t help but chuckle softly, “You get so mad when you’re worried.”

“Who says I’m worried?” Ryujin scoffed, but both of you knew she was playing a bluff. Of course she worried, she worried the most out of all of your handmaidens, only hiding it with her brash attitude.

A soft creak of the door alerted the both of you, and Ryujin was halfway out of her seat already to berate whoever was walking in without knocking when she froze, immediately dipping her head respectfully as Hyunjin stepped into the room.

You averted your eyes instantly, finding some very intricate patterns on the marbled floor as you refused to look at him. Hyunjin was the only person you haven’t spoken to since the coronation early that day, and there was no way he wouldn’t be angry.

Hyunjin raised a brow, noting your actions the moment he walked in. If there was one thing you always did, even since the first meeting, it was to look straight into his eyes. You were probably the first to do it with such vigor, staring back at him as if practically daring him to challenge you. It was hard not to notice when you suddenly began to look away.

“Ryujin, please fetch us some tea, if you will,” Hyunjin spoke lightly as he walked over to the vanity, standing beside the two of you.

Your maid glanced at you, and you gave her a weak smile, lifting your unharmed hand to rest on hers, “It’s alright. I can finish bandaging it, really.”

“Fine,” Ryujin stood up after a moment, brushing off her dress, “you better do it right. Don’t forget that time you refused to clean the cut on your leg after sword practice and the doctor threatened to chop your limb off when it got all gross and infected,” you could only stare at her back, utterly betrayed as she skipped off to do as the king commanded.

As the door shut behind her, you were hyper aware that it was only you and Hyunjin in the room, and the silence was more torturous than anything you’d ever experienced. Keeping your head down, you heard as Hyunjin took Ryujin’s earlier seat.

“Here,” you flinched a little as you saw his hand outstretched, his palm facing upwards.

“I’m...sorry…?”

“Your hand, please,” Hyunjin sighed, wanting more than anything to take your hand himself and bandage it as tightly as possible, but he’d wait. He’d always wait.

Hesitantly, you extended your hand, resting it on his with your palm facing up, giving him a clear view of the rather ghastly cut, which went deeper than he’d assumed earlier. With delicate fingers, he scooped up a dollop of the salve before gently applying it. You immediately recoiled at the sting, but Hyunjin gripped your hand tightly.

“Keep still,” he said firmly, focusing all his attention on treating your cut. You glanced at the way his fingers gently pressed against your palm, the way he handled you with such care, care that you’ve never experienced before, and slowly, the guilt the coiled in your stomach began to crawl up and out of your throat.

“Hyunjin, I’m--”

“Why did you do that?”

His voice was tight as he interrupted you, reaching over to the vanity table and grabbing the roll of gauze while he waited for your answer. You didn’t speak for a long moment because--if you were being completely honest--you weren’t sure what came over you at that moment.

“He was a soldier in my army during the war,” you explained cautiously as Hyunjin began to wrap the bandages around your hand, “He was obviously more desperate than malicious, and–”

“That’s not what I meant,” Hyunjin’s patience finally snapped as he tied the bandage tightly, causing you to let out a wince. You finally looked at his face out of confusion, and he gripped your wrist, holding up your injured hand.

“Why did you do this?” He clenched his jaw as everything that he'd bottled inside since the coronation spilled out of his lips, and he stared into your eyes with such an intensity, it felt as if you were being consumed by his desperation, “The blade could've been rusted, poisoned, anything! What if you ended up having to amputate your whole hand just because of this? What if you died? Did you even think about yourself for a moment?”

“I didn't,” you said softly, squeezing your eyes shut as you confessed, “I wasn't thinking about myself at all, alright?”

Hyunjin looked taken aback, “Then what were you thinking?” He asked, his voice still hard as he clutched your hand in his, “What on earth were you thinking about that could possibly make you risk your own life--”

“I was thinking about you!” You finally blurt out, looking down at your lap, too ashamed to even look him in the eye as your voice grew weak, “All I could think about was you, you getting hurt, and I realized that I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

A tense silence filled the room as you waited for Hyunjin to snap, to scoff at your weakness, to realize that you weren’t as strong as he once imagined you to be.

Your eyes widened when you felt gentle fingers tilt up your chin, guiding you to look up at Hyunjin. To your surprise, he looked almost pained as he shifted closer to you, his thumb brushing your cheek as he whispered, “Don’t say that.”

Confused, you let Hyunjin caress your soft cheeks, seeing that he looked almost desperate to touch you, “Say what?” You probed gently, reaching to rest your fingers on the back of his hand.

“That you don’t want to lose me. Don’t say things that m-make me think you love me,” Hyunjin’s voice sounded so utterly weak, and he studied your face as if you were the most previous jewel in the world. Did he always stare at you like that?

You swallowed nervously before asking softly, “What if I do love you?”

The reaction was instantaneous. Hyunjin closed the distance between your lips, smashing his against yours with so much emotion and desire that you were almost dizzy. He rested his hand on the nape of your neck, gently brushing your soft locks off of your shoulder as he deepened the kiss. This time, there wasn’t an ounce of resistance in your body. All you wanted to do was to let him in, let him sweep you off your feet and hold you close.

Hyunjin shifted, slipping an arm around your waist, and he easily lifted you in his arms, carrying you to the bed without once pulling away from the intoxicating feeling of your soft lips. Oh, how he missed them, how he’d dreamed of them for nights on end, not one dream as perfect as the reality.

“I love you,” he murmured as his lips trailed down from your cheeks to your jaw and all the way to the soft skin of your neck, “I loved you for so long.”

Even in your blissful state, you managed to grasp the meaning of his words and you choked out between his frantic kisses, “H-how long?”

“Since the wedding, I’ve known that you were going to my one and only, my one true love,” Hyunjin said softly before pulling away. He gazed down at your state, both of your hands on either side of your head, your hair fanned out on the pillow beneath you. You looked like a goddess, and he’d spend every night thanking the gods that you were his.

“I never thought--I never even imagined,” Hyunjin rambled on as he dived for your neck, sucking gently as you let out a soft noise at the sensation. It almost drove him mad, ��I never even dreamed that you would say yes, much less accept me at all--”

“It’s true,” you murmured, your eyes fluttering shut as your fingers reached up, carding gently through his hair, “It didn’t happen overnight, but now I realize. I love you.”

Hyunjin let out a groan at your words as they resonated in his heart, causing it to pound uncontrollably. He pulled away just for moment, his lips hovering over yours as his hands trailed down your sides cautiously, “I love you too, my Queen. So much,” he said, pecking your lips.

You couldn’t help but smile, chuckling softly as you looked up at him, “Your Queen,” you repeated the title, finding that you loved it very much.

“Well, you are,” Hyunjin smiled in return, brushing a strand of hair away from your face before leaning down again, pressing his lips again yours as he mumbled, “my beautiful queen. The love of my life.”

Blushing, you threaded your fingers through his hair as he deepened the kiss, sucking and nibbling at your lips, causing you to giggle. Nothing felt rushed, nothing felt like one side was trying quickly to quench their desperation. It was just love, contentment, the purest form of peace.

Eventually, Hyunjin’s hands made it down to your legs, ghosting over your skin as he slipped a hand under your nightgown, freezing as he made it to your upper thigh, “Tell me if you want to stop,” he whispered, pecking your cheek.

You stared up at him, full of love and adoration as you brushed his long black hair away from his face, “I don’t ever want you to stop,” you replied with a gentle smile, and Hyunjin never denied you of anything. He dipped down, his hands playing with the hem of your gown as the two of you finally surrendered to each other, letting the world slip away until the only thing that mattered to you was Hyunjin, and the only thing that mattered to Hyunjin was you. Always you.

Ryujin never came back with your tea, having decided to leave the two of you alone when she’d first turned into the corridor. A smug smile curled on her face, and she rushed off to tell the other handmaidens that they owe her ten gold coins.

epilogue.

You were awoken with gentle lips caressing your cheek, fingers lightly dancing over your bare waist. Mumbling softly, your eyes fluttered open and your gaze fell upon Hwang Hyunjin, who was resting on his elbow as he looked down at your previously sleeping figure with nothing but pure love in his expression.

“Morning,” you smiled sleepily, giggling as Hyunjin leaned down, nuzzling his face against your cheek.

“Sleep well?” He asked, his voice scratchy from just waking up. Even so, he couldn’t seem to get enough of you, running his hand up and down your side as his lips trailed from your own lips to your cheeks to your neck.

You hummed in response, playing lightly with his hair as you looked at the sunlight spilling into the window, signaling a new day, “I don’t think we did a lot of sleep, though,” you commented, smiling when Hyunjin pulled away, pouting at you.

“Can’t you let me be romantic just once?” He whined a little as he kissed down your body, kissing your shoulder, your collarbones, your chest, trailing down until he stopped at the soft skin of your tummy.

You giggled as he paused, squirming as he drew circles with his fingers on the skin before pressing a long, gentle kiss to it, “Mm...I hope you’re pregnant…”

“Hyunjin!”

“What?” Hyunjin laughed as he dodged your light swats of indignance, crawling back up to pull you into his chest, “We’d have our little heir, and it would get those good for nothing nobles off your back,” his voice held more bite as his jaw clenched.

You placed a hand on his chest, drawing soothing circles, “Don’t worry about them,” you murmured softly, looking up into Hyunjin’s eyes, “Just for today, just this once, let’s not worry about them at all.”

Hyunjin smiled, pulling you closer as his lips brushed yours.

“I don’t have a problem with that at all.”

fin.

a/n: a sincere thank you to anyone who made it this far ;;_;;

#inkidz #districtninewriters #stray kids scenarios #stray kids drabbles #stray kids reactions #stray kids imagines #hwang hyunjin imagine #hwang hyunjin scenarios #hwang hyunjin blurbs #skz oneshots #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz blurbs #my fics #skz x reader #skz x y/n #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #stray kids x reader

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years

Text

I Never Danced Until I Met You - Chapter 3

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2]

Taglist: @a-banana-for-your-thoughts @saint-hardy @sophiasescape @letscici @itsametaphorbriansblog @wackiekebab @tinyybiceps @lilredbird101 @ultracolorfulnerdcollection @terrainhead

Word Count: 5.5k

Rating: this is about as E as it gets, people. you’ve been warned!

You woke up to sunlight pouring through the shudders with your head resting on his chest, and you lifted it to look up at him. He was already awake, and looking back at you. As your eyes met, there was a shared moment of ‘did we…?’ between you two.

You smiled, remembering what had actually happened the night before: you’d been up nearly all night talking, reading, laughing- he even played you a few songs.

Of course you had wanted to go further, there were times where you felt compelled to jump him, but it turns out you’re much more shy when it came to those sorts of things than you were about everything else. He seemed to have sensed your nervousness and, thankfully, didn’t push you any further than you were comfortable.

“I’m sorry, I hope your arm hasn’t gone numb,” you apologized sheepishly.

“Don’t be, though it has,” he smiled. “A worthy sacrifice.”

“I didn’t even realize I’d fallen asleep- I’ve never stayed up that late before, at least not for fun,” you reminisced.

“I can’t believe you’ve fought battles lasting all night, but conversation exhausts you,” he teased.

“It’s different! As tiring as it is, fighting is also energizing,” you explained.

At that moment, you heard footsteps just outside your door, and you instinctively sat up, pulling away from his touch. The door opened and Geralt was on the other side. He didn’t give too strong of a reaction to Jaskier laying on your bed, but you did notice an eyebrow raise a bit.

“I came to ask for a favor,” Geralt stated plainly.

“Anything,” you offered instantly, standing up off the bed and awkwardly smoothing out your tunic.

“Not to speak ill of your troops,” he began, “but they’ve proven less than helpful in my hunt.”

“I gave them to you as a gift, to use only as you needed,” you explained. “Honestly, I expected you to hunt on your own anyways.”

“That would’ve been my preference,” he frowned, “but your sergeant insisted.”

You chuckled, knowing your soldiers were likely seeking glory for taking part in the hunt, even though you made it clear that they would likely not be brought along.

“I’ll tell them to stand down,” you smiled.

“I appreciate that,” he replied, “but that’s not what I came to ask for.”

“Hm?” you prompted.

“I may not need infantry, but I could use a partner,” he continued, crossing his arms as he leaned in the doorway.

“I can recommend my finest,” you suggested.

“I’m surprised you didn’t jump at the opportunity to go out in the field again,” he smiled.

You were flattered, certainly, and surprised. “You were referring to me?”

“Of course,” he shrugged, “I’ve fought with you before. Well, beside you.”

“That was a long time ago; I’m expected to stay in the castle, mostly,” you explained, shifting your feet nervously.

“Hmm,” he smirked, “so you’re all corporate now. No bloodlust left, just politics.”

“You think I’ll fight a monster on a dare? That only works on men,” you scoffed.

“It’s not a dare, just a question: do you still know how to fight?” he pressed.

You grinned, crossing your arms.

“Do you still parry like a drunken idiot?” you countered.

“You said it wouldn’t work on you!” Jaskier protested.

“I don’t want to go because he attacked my ego,” you defended, “I want to go because I need to kill this beast.” You turned back to Geralt: “pray tell what it is?”

“What it is is doomed, once you’ve got your sword in hand,” Geralt quipped. You laughed.

“So you don’t want me to bring my pole-axe?” you presumed. His face curled into a toothy grin.

“Oh, definitely bring the pole-axe.”

Both of you were looking pretty rough when you returned to the castle, riding in through the gates on your horses, covered in gore and dirt. You’d managed to avoid significant injury, as had Geralt, aside from some scrapes on his hands and a gash on your shoulder.

“Sir Protector! Sir Geralt!” a soldier at the gate announced when he saw you riding in, “Should I call for a healer?”

“Bath first,” your reply came all scratchy and hoarse.

“Yes sir, yes sir,” the soldier bowed to each of you, dashing inside to order servants to prepare your baths. You didn’t even question that he called you sir: it was normal for your position, plus any feminine grace you had left was probably lost when you were wearing chainmail and covered in blood.

Your bath was nice, as was to be expected in royal bathing facilities. You were about halfway through when a maidservant knocked on the door and entered.

“I’ve brought oils for you, sir,” she announced meekly with a curtsy.

“No need for the formality, but thank you,” you nodded, motioning for her to set them down beside you.

“Would you like help washing your hair?” she offered.

“You must have other duties to attend to,” you dismissed.

“No, just attending the baths,” she explained.

“Baths, plural? You’re attending to Geralt as well?” you asked.

She blushed a little. “Yes, I was to bring the oils to him next.”

“Have a male servant do it, please,” you requested. “A maidservant without her maidenhead is… just a servant, I suppose.”

“What are you implying?!” she stuttered.

“Prostitution is illegal here- if it wasn’t he probably wouldn’t have spent any nights at the castle,” you scoffed.

“And what of my integrity?” she asked, seeming offended.

“Integrity is something that people think they have until they are challenged,” you frowned, “and Geralt presents… quite a challenge.”

The maidservant stepped forward, delicately touching your scalp and motioning you to dip it into the water. As you came back up, she used some soap to wash you.

“A woman as progressive as you- I’m surprised you’re concerned of things like maidenheads,” she giggled.

“Who said I was progressive? Knights are usually quite conservative, aren’t they?”

“Yes, but they’re usually men,” she explained.

“Of course. But I’m rather traditional, I think. My troops would certainly think so: many of them have adopted some modern concept of justice, conveniently laden with gray areas and blurred lines, usually surrounding their own twisted ways.”

“And what do you think?” she pressed, her fingers lathering the soap on your head.

“I think that there’s right and there’s wrong. Good and evil.”

“And you are so sure that you’re good?” she mocked.

“Of course not,” you chuckled, “I do evil things- I kill people, pretty often.”

You heard the maidservant gasp.

“Good cannot protect itself. Some of us live on the border between the two, using evil to protect what is good. Good is pure and beautiful, but weak- much like yourself,” you explained.

“Sounds complex,” she sighed. “Say, you’re apparently traditional, but you’re an independent woman, so tell me: is it good or evil to long for a man?”

“Don’t get caught up in that,” you denounced.

“I don’t know if it’s as easy as that. If we could choose to have no desires, we would all choose chastity,” she considered, “and yet, many of the maidservants are actually, erm, ‘just servants.’”

You pondered that. More than ever, you were starting to understand that love is not a choice.

“Love is good; lust is evil,” you decided.

“What’s the difference?”

“Love compels us to do kind things, but lust compels us to do cruel things.”

“I mean, how would I know the difference?”

“Don’t ask me, I’ve never loved a man,” you shrugged, and although you believed it to be true, you felt guilty saying it as if it were a lie.

The maidservant groaned, unimpressed with your advice-giving skills.

“But to long for a man? Is it sinful?” she continued.

“A woman longs for a man, it’s natural I suppose,” you sighed, “just, be careful. Men are…” you trailed off, lost in thought. Fighting in wars and enforcing the law rarely made one sympathetic to men as a group.

“Hm?” she prompted, bringing you back to reality.

“Wait for a kind man, a gentle man,” you recommended, and you turned to see her smiling. “Just be prepared to die waiting,” you added. Her smile dropped.

You decided not to join the rest of the castle’s guests and staff for dinner, sneaking a leg of lamb out to the training fields to sit in silence. Of course, sensing that there was someone enjoying silence somewhere, Jaskier was obliged to appear and ruin it. You still smiled to see him, though.

“Dinner together, what will the others think?” you asked sarcastically.

“I hope you know that one of your soldiers waited until you left to give me a stern talking to about having spent the night in your quarters,” he revealed as he sat down beside you.

“Preposterous! Who?”

“How should I know? A guy wearing armor, if that helps you at all,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, only one of my soldiers wears armor, that really clears it up,” you groaned, taking a bite of the meat.

“He said that if I ‘besmirched your honour’ by ‘laying with you’ before ‘legal betrothal’ that he would be forced to prosecute me for damages to and theft against the Queen,” he recalled. “How ridiculous is that?”

“Technically, my, erm, ‘honour’ is her property, yes,” you explained.

His eyes went wide.

“Does she actually enforce that?” he asked nervously. You laughed.

“No, she’s got much bigger issues to deal with. We have a head of staff who would be responsible for that sort of management.”

“Well, does he actually enforce that?”

“We had to decommission a soldier a few years back for impregnating a maidservant and then denying the child was his,” you remembered. “Then again, I only really knew about that because it was my soldier. I hear that perhaps many of the maidservants have managed to get away with,

“And where do you hear things like that?” he asked with a mischievous smile, surely imagining some sort of sultry, girlish whispers of midnight encounters.

“Not somewhere nearly as exciting as you’re picturing,” you scolded. “A young woman wanted my advice, for some reason. That’s all.”

“I think you make for a great role model,” he defended.

“Perhaps not in terms of romantic exploits,” you frowned.

“I couldn’t judge you on that, certainly,” he chuckled. “What did you tell her?”

“To wait for the right person,” you shrugged. “Not sure it’s actually good advice, but it sounded believable.”

“‘Wait for the right person,’ how quaint. You’re secretly a romantic, aren’t you?” he smirked. You scoffed, but didn’t say anything. “I bet you dream of someone riding up to your window on horseback, throwing stones, confessing his love for you.”

“Sounds melodramatic,” you grumbled with an eyeroll.

“A little melodrama never hurt anyone,” he shrugged.

“Clearly you’re not very well-read,” you chuckled. “Many wars can be traced back to melodrama. If not all of them.”

“Well, at least you have job security!”

“I honestly wish I didn’t,” you admitted.

He looked at you a little more seriously. “So, you don’t want to live this life forever?”

You thought about that question for a moment. It was not a simple answer, certainly.

“I love my job, I just wish that it came with a sense of completion. The day I stop doing what I do won’t be the day that my Queen is safe, or that the nation is free from crime, or that wars will cease forever. It will just be the day I’m too old to protect anyone,” you sighed.

He seemed to have a change in perspective after that.

“What about the day you want to retire? Live a simpler life?” he considered.

You had never really thought about that before, honestly, and yet as soon as he asked, you felt yourself more drawn to it than ever. You could imagine settling down, maybe even having the time to travel and explore instead of being tied to the castle all day. Marriage, children, the whole fairytale ending: you chuckled to yourself, realizing you might be even more traditional than you thought.

Just as you were about to figure out what to say, you looked out to the sunset and realized you were probably running late.

“Shit,” you whispered, sitting up dusting the grass off.

“What?” he asked, though it was more of a reaction than a question.

“I have plans, with Geralt,” you explained. You looked at him but he looked away.

“That explains a lot,” he scoffed.

“What’s that supposed to mean? We’re going to play some gwent, talk about the old days; nothing too interesting.”

“Where are you meeting him?” he asked quietly as he stood up.

“His quarters,” you shrugged.

He sighed.

“Have fun,” he said, but it didn’t feel encouraging at all. Before you could respond, he was already walking away.

You had a lovely time with Geralt, though you were a bit distracted as you kept thinking about how Jaskier had been acting strangely. You were so distracted in fact, that you ended your card-playing a little earlier than either of you had expected. You hadn’t been back to your room very long when you heard a knock at the door. Thinking maybe you’d left something of yours in Geralt’s quarters, you were surprised to see Jaskier standing there.

“Jaskier!” you announced with surprised.

“Who were you expecting?” he asked nervously.

“Geralt,” you replied.

“Of course,” he mumbled. “Listen, I came by to apologize,” he stated with an air of formality, almost.

“What for?”

“I should’ve backed off sooner, in regards to pursuing you,” he explained. You felt humiliation rise in your stomach as you realized he must have lost interest in you.

“Oh.”

“I misinterpreted the situation, I suppose, and I think that’s my fault,” he continued.

“Right.”

“I hope we can stay friendly-” he began, but stopped himself. “I take it back. That would be too painful.” He sighed and dropped his head, before giving a somber laugh and turning away to walk back down the hall.

“Wait,” you called out to him, and as he turned, you pained to see the sadness on his face. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“When I showed interest in you, Geralt told me to stay away,” he recalled. “Whenever Geralt comes by while we’re together, you act so humiliated that he would see us, like you don’t want him to get ‘the wrong idea.’ And now you’re always spending time with him, alone.”

You looked at him, perplexed: this shade of paranoia was not flattering on him.

“I know what’s going on between you two,” he announced. “You’re having an affair.”

“I- what?” you sputtered.

“If nothing else, he’s fallen for you,” he decided, as if that was some sort of step down in terms of insanity.

“That’s preposterous!”

“It makes plenty of sense: you’re strong, and scary, and beautiful-” he enumerated, and you tried not to let yourself react to the last word. “Your parents, where are they?” he asked.

“Dead,” you replied quietly.

“Perfect!” he shouted, and your eyes widened at the wholly unexpected response. “You’re exactly his type!”

“And what of it? What if he’s not my type?”

“Oh please. I know the effect he has on women, I’m the poor sap who has to see it every day. He’s a big brooding bag of masculinity and everybody wants their chance to try to fix him, to soften him. You’re the only one I’ve seen get even close, the way you make him laugh,” he grimaced.

“You don’t know me as well as I thought you did,” you sighed as you shook your head in disbelief.

“Can you honestly say you don’t care for him?” he challenged.

“Of course I care for him: I love him,” you explained. Of course you were going to clarify that a bit more but he interrupted you.

“I understand,” he said sternly as if trying (poorly) to feign composure, “Geralt is better for you. You two make sense together. I won’t get in the way.”

You looked at him, truly astounded.

“Jaskier, he’s like my brother.”

“Maybe so! I don’t know how you people roll in this kingdom, but the way you look at him-”

“Don’t speak ill of my people,” you growled.

That seemed to snap him out of it a bit.

“I’m sorry,” he said weakly as he looked to the ground.

“Geralt is my friend,” you explained. “I love him with a sort of love you only understand when you fight with someone, when you face death together. I love all my soldiers that way, I love many who lost their battles- may their souls rest in peace- so much that I could die from the love, the terrible painful love, that I feel.”

He looked at you, his eyes bloodshot and glistening with tears.

“Jaskier,” you said softly, hearing more tenderness in your voice than you remembered even being capable of, “my type is sensitive, thoughtful, creative, passionate…”

You stepped closer to him, admiring his expression, heartbroken to think he was so sad over you when all you wanted to do was see him be happy.

“Funny, kind,” you continued, “not a hundred years old.”

He chuckled a bit at that, and you smiled back, close enough now to run your fingers down his cheek, which you did because it seemed like something you would enjoy at the moment.

“Most men see me as an unworthy knight, Geralt respects me, as do a few of my subordinates,” you explained, “but you… you never saw me as a fighter at all. You just listened to me, and got to know me, and cared more about who I am than what I do. Please don’t compare yourself to Geralt, you’re nothing like him- and that’s okay, it’s wonderful.”

“Women want him over me, usually.”

“Women want protection, usually,” you responded, “they like someone strong who can keep them safe. I’ve been alone my whole life: I learned quickly that the only person who was going to protect me was me.”

“And yet, you don’t want to be alone, do you?” he asked you quietly, his gaze running down from your eyes to your lips.

“No,” you whispered back.

It was a very slow moment, one where you felt hyper-aware of every movement and every split second. His hand was on your waist, pulling you closer, and your hand moved from his cheek to his neck, your fingertips running into soft chestnut hair.

Your eyes were open longer than they probably were supposed to be in the moments leading up to a kiss: maybe because you knew that once you closed your eyes you were vulnerable, that this was going to happen, that once you kissed him you would fall for him and there was no coming back from that.

His lips were so soft, and they brushed against yours so deliberately, with precision. He tasted like honey and cherry wine and the way incense smelled, and you quickly deepened the kiss in search of more of him. You felt his hands, holding you close at your waist and hips, tighten their grip. You made the softest sound against his mouth; you hadn’t even really noticed that you had let it out, but he certainly did, kissing you harder and deeper in response. As you stepped back into the room and shut the door behind him, you felt something you hadn’t felt in a long time (at least before Jaskier had sauntered into the castle for the first time a few nights ago and turned your entire life upside down): an unmistakably warm and tingly sensation emanating from your most sensitive areas. You thought this part was supposed to be pleasurable, but the feeling was sort of uncomfortable, crying out for more, more, more, entirely unsatisfied with this trivial kissing nonsense. You felt your leg instinctively raise to wrap around him, as if that would somehow make it possible for him to take you immediately and calm this hunger burning inside you. A hand ran down to your thigh, encouraging you, and your body seemed to want to lift the other leg as well, as if it didn’t realize that would knock both of you over. As a compromise, you leaned back, hoping that Jaskier would get the hint and lead you both to the bed.

He smiled against your lips, moving down to kiss your neck.

“I thought you wanted to take it slow,” he teased, letting his lips just ever so slightly graze the parts of your neck and shoulder exposed by your blouse.

“I just meant the relationship overall,” you explained breathlessly, remembering the thinly-veiled discussion you’d had the night before when he stayed over, “but if we’re going to do this, I don’t see any reason to wait.”

He tsked in faux admonishment, unlacing the back of your bodice to allow it to slip off. Of course, he didn’t actually take it off all the way, just kissed along your collarbones and shoulders more.

“If you don’t see any reason to wait, then you’ve never been properly seduced,” he smirked.

“I cannot make this any more clear to you: I’ve never been seduced!” you whined, looking down at him. “I’m not the rare catch you think I am, I’ve never been sought after- you’re the only one, er, seeking.”

He stopped kissing you and looked back, and even though the kissing had been so much less than you wanted, having it taken away wasn’t much better.

“You don’t mean to tell me no one has made love to you before,” he whispered in disbelief.

“I told you, women of the castle are expected to maintain a certain level of decency.”

“Well, that can be hard to upkeep when someone wants for you.”

“No one has wanted, best I can tell,” you shrugged.

“Surely someone was willing to, when you wanted them,” he countered.

“I’ve never wanted for someone,” you explained, “before now.”

The sound he made was something you hadn’t known he was capable of. It was low, and deep: a growl.

“Is that… bad?” you asked hesitantly.

“It’s fucking wasteful is what is,” he mumbled, planting more kisses on your chest before he continued. “I know you said not to speak ill of your people, but they truly have no taste.”

You chuckled, though it turned into a gasp as he bit lightly at the skin just where your breast started to meet your ribcage.

“And you…” he continued, “I suppose now is not the time to question your judgment. But, you shouldn’t have told me that if you wanted me to go faster,” he smiled as he ran his hand up and down your thigh, never quite going high up enough for you. “I feel spoiled now; I’m almost entirely sure that I am not worthy of this honour.”

“Oh please, it is given more-than willingly.”

“My cup runneth over,” he proclaimed.

“So does mine,” you replied, entirely aware and intending the innuendo, “care to drink from it?”

He growled again, and the sound sent shivers up your spine in the most incredible way.

“If you think you can distract me from my task, think again,” he scolded.

“Task?” you questioned.

“I’m savoring a grand feast, and I won’t rush through the courses no matter how much you try to tempt me,” he clarified.

“I’m the feast in this allegory? I don’t know if I find that flattering,” you frowned.

“Interesting criticism coming from the mind who brought us ‘genitals as goblet,’ but alright, no metaphors,” he obliged, bringing his lips to your ear to whisper into it. “Would you prefer a more literal approach?”

You nodded.

“I’m going to kiss every part of your body I can find. I'm going to taste your need for me, lick you senseless until you're begging for me, and then keep going for a while longer just to be sure. I'm going to feel you from the inside, deflower you as thoroughly and thoughtfully as I can, ravish you until you've reached any limit I can find. I'm going to make love to you: not just sex, not just fucking, but love-making worthy of a thousand ballads, and hopefully, it will be enough to show you what you really deserve."

You felt like you'd had the wind knocked out of you, your innermost muscles clenching around nothing.

"Now I feel spoiled," you whispered. He smiled, nipping gently at your earlobe.

"It's only just. You need to be appreciated properly," he explained. His fingers traced down your spine through the fabric of your clothes. You moaned but it was also a sob, nearly in tears from how long he'd been holding you on the edge.

"I know, darling, I know," he soothed, fingers running down your arm and squeezing your hand.

"I'm not sure you do," you groaned. "How can you stay so calm?"

"You have quite the effect on me, love, even if I am blessed with patience," he answered.

"And what effect is that?" you smirked. Instead of answering he simply guided your hand to his erection. You gasped, feeling the shape through his trousers and smiling at how hard it was.

"This has been difficult to get rid of ever since I met you," he confessed.

"I want it inside me," you hissed, "I want you inside me."

"All in due time," he promised.

He guided you back to the bed, but before he laid you down on it, he finally removed your blouse completely. You felt a little chilly being exposed to the air, but your nipples were already so hard from arousal, the cold didn't add that much to it.

He smiled, cupping your breasts in his hands which were delightfully warm. He massaged them slowly as he kissed your neck, occasionally twirling the hardened buds with his thumbs. Everything he did felt like it was somehow directly connected to your arousal below: no matter where he touched you, it seemed to send sensations to your inner walls which flexed and fluttered in response. Soon he began unlacing your trousers, and you blushed, wondering if it was peculiar that you weren’t wearing a dress. He didn’t seem to mind as he slid them down and smiled up at you.

“Beautiful,” he observed, and though you felt very exposed, you didn’t feel nearly as nervous as you had expected. He stood up and was about to pull you into another kiss, but you pushed him back.

“As a defender of equality, I’m going to have to ask you to undress,” you smirked. He smiled back, stripping himself of his doublet and chemise but conspicuously leaving his trousers on before laying you onto the bed.

“Don’t trust yourself without those on?” you teased.

“I don’t trust you to keep your patience without these on,” he replied back, hovering over you while you looked up at him, laying on your back. You indulged yourself in running your fingers across his chest, admiring the thick layer of dark hair, the lightly-toned muscles, the freckled skin.

“So you’re saying you don’t want me to wrestle you down and ride you?” you smiled. He bit his lip.

“A great idea for another time,” he compromised. He leaned down and kissed your neck again, but then moved quickly to cover your chest. He really did make good on his promise to kiss you everywhere, though of course he was clearly saving all the interesting places for last. He whispered your name against your skin, showered you with praise and affection, held you tightly in his arms. Your entire body felt hot, and yet your skin was cold from where the remnants of him picked up the breeze.

“You look incredible like this,” he murmured at one point, his lips against your calf while he held your leg in the air. Having him sitting between your spread legs was glorious torture.

“Like what?” you asked.

“Desperate,” he smiled.

“Don’t mock me; it’s all your fault anyhow,” you frowned.

“I’m not mocking! I’m nearly done, only one leg left.”

You whined. “And then?”

“You can’t rush art,” he sing-songed, giving the lightest bite to your skin before dropping one leg and picking up the other. This one, though, he started at the ankle and moved his way up. Your breath hitched each time he got closer to where you needed him so desperately.

“Please,” you whispered.

“Soon,” he promised.

“You’ll fuck me soon?” you clarified, sounding a bit more excited than you meant to. He laughed against your thigh.

“Oh, no, that’s still a ways out,” he corrected. “I’ll touch you where you want me to soon, that’s all.”

You threw your head back in desperation, resisting the urge to pull his face into you by his hair. That said, you did have to pull his hair, mainly to stabilize yourself, when he started to leave bites and kisses on the deepest corner of your inner thigh. His nose started to brush against the hairs there, which you only then realized were entirely coated in your arousal.

“I need you,” you whimpered.

“I noticed,” he replied, giving one experimental lick through your folds. You nearly cried out, sensitive enough to react so strongly to a simple touch like that.

“If only I could write a song as beautiful as those sounds you make,” he encouraged.

“If only I could write a song that would make you get on with it,” you growled.

For the first time perhaps in your entire relationship, he obeyed, wrapping his lips around you and giving broad licks to your most delicate places. This time you really did cry out, the hand in his hair pulling on accident, the other gripping the sheets tightly enough that you feared to rip them. He moaned against you, finding the bundle of nerves and sucking on it. The sensation was overwhelming, you even started to feel light-headed. He continued until you were teetering on the edge of something that you couldn’t describe, but that you sensed was going to be wonderful.

“Yes, yes, Jaskier,” you chanted without even really meaning to say anything.

At that moment, he stopped, pulling back with a smile.

“Enough of that for now, I think,” he teased.

You laughed, some sort of strange reaction to your growing frustration as you felt yourself falling off the wrong end of the edge you’d found.

“You’re insufferable,” you sighed.

“I thought you wanted me to fuck you?” he asked, feigning confusion. You sat up pulling his face towards yours until you could kiss him, your taste masking his own. You kept pulling him back and he stumbled to adjust his position in time, though you were finally able to get him on top of you and wrap your legs around him. Your hips kept trying to meet his, even though his trousers were in the way. You reached down to push them off and were almost surprised he didn’t fight you on it. As they moved out of the way you could finally wrap your hand around his length, and you moaned just feeling it in your hand. The skin was so soft, and yet the member itself was nearly hard as bone. You revelled in knowing that he wanted you so strongly. Without breaking the kiss you pushed it down to line up with your entrance, but he pulled away.

“You’re sure that this is what you want?” he asked.

“Would you like me to spell it out for you?” you countered with a raised eyebrow.

“Couldn’t hurt,” he smirked.

You gave him a quick peck on the lips before you said it.

“Please, Jaskier, I want you to make love to me,” you stated. He smiled, a little sigh coming out as well, as he pulled you back into the kiss. He pressed forward, and in one fluid (though not necessarily fast) motion, he was completely inside you. Having taken so long to get to this point, there was no pain, though the feeling of him stretching you open was very apparent. You moaned so loud you worried someone would hear, or at least you would have worried about that if you could think about anything but the man in front of you and how incredible he was making you feel.

It wasn’t long before you were climbing towards that edge again, this time willing to do anything to dive into the pleasure you knew lay on the other side. He was certainly encouraging, breaking the kiss to suck on a nipple or bite at your neck occasionally. You figured it would leave a mark; secretly, you hoped that it would.

He pulled his face away when he sensed you were close, not kissing you anymore but holding you close and examining your face. You did the same, appreciating his slack-mouthed, nearly shocked expression as he continued to press into you as deep as he could.

“Jaskier,” you whispered, not having any purpose to say it aside from how good it felt on your tongue. You held his face, laced your fingers into his hair, and did your best to keep looking at him as you reached your peak… much faster than even you had anticipated. He kept going, even through that, and it made you want to scream- in a good way. Just as you wondered if you could take any more of this, pleasure building past the point of reason, his movements stuttered, and he grabbed your thigh as if he could somehow press even deeper into you despite your bodies in the way. He made this gorgeous little sound that you planned to play on repeat in your mind for the rest of your life if you could. He kissed you again, and fell down beside you. You didn’t remember the kiss ever ending, or falling asleep, and yet you awoke the next morning to sunlight pouring through the shudders, with your head resting on his chest.

[final chapter]

#jaskier x reader #jaskier x oc #jaskier imagine #dandelion x reader #the witcher

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ayma-nidiot · 3 years

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“Don’t Speak Their Names” - Shrimpshipping fic Chapter 27

This chapter can be found here on AO3.

Chapter 27 - I Challenge My Fate

~07 November 2005~

“President Phuckdis! Reporting in, sir!” A Buster Blader saluted his general.

“Proceed, Captain.”

“Several enemies calling themselves ‘Earthbound Gods’ started attacking Joey and his friends. Apparently, Joey lost a duel, and last I checked, he was engaged in battle with a snake-like monster. There are now hundreds of enemy soldiers coming this way! It’s only a matter of time before-”

“Th-They’re here!” shouted a few guards who stood watch at the door. “Aaaaaaargh!”

“Hah!” Watda led the charge, showing no mercy in cutting down the guards. He aggressively attacked Joey and showed little interest in anything else. “How kind of you to show me where you lowlifes camp out! Now, give me Uru or else!”

“Never!” Joey swiped at Watda’s feet with his Salamandra sword, “summoned” from his Duel Disk.

“Oh?” Watda smirked as he jumped over the sword like a jump rope. “Why would you want to protect that ‘dung beetle…’ or whatever it is you called him?”

“Hahaha…” cackled a voice from behind Joey. “I wonder that, too. Well, no matter, since that will be your first and last mistake!”

“Weevil!” William growled at the half-shifted Weevil. “Dammit, he escaped!”

“What do you mean, ‘escaped?’” Joey wanted to know.

“William, you moron!” Phuckdis bopped his brother with the blunt end of his sword.

“Hey, Joey!” Weevil’s arms hardened, glowing blood-red. “Think fast!”

“Wh-What?” Joey darted around for the agile bug duelist. Before he could really process what was going on, Weevil found him first, stabbing his non-sword arm with a sharp spider arm. “Aaaah! You… You mosquito…”

“A mosquito, am I?” Weevil continued to assault Joey, who had to parry the attacks with a shaky arm. “Hah! A mosquito is but a caterpillar compared to the monster I’ve become, compliments of my fellow Earthbound Gods!”

“You’ve gone absolutely batshit, Weevil! Open your eyes, why don’t you!”

“Nah, how about no.” Weevil stabbed Joey’s sword hand so hard that the Salamandra sword went flying. “But I’ll gladly open a giant wound in your belly and let the maggots have at you. I’ll make you suffer for what you’ve done in the past…”

“G-Ggh…” Joey looked up at his former Battle City rival, knowing his life was as good as done.

“The only one who will be suffering here is you, Weevil! Amazoness Empress, get ‘im!” exclaimed a debilitated Mai.

“Ah…” All of the excitement of battle left Weevil in an instant, and he knelt to the ground in pain.

“Bind Weevil at once!” Phuckdis ordered. “And be quick about it!”

“Yes, sir!” Several Magician Girl monsters got to work right away.

“Mai…” Joey got up, hoping to help the woman he loved - that was until Watda got in his path.

“Going somewhere, Wheeler?” Watda slashed down a few Club members who got between him and Joey. “Not that it would do you any good, since your pretty little girlfriend is history!”

“Get off her, you thug!” Seeing Watda’s snake arms slither around Mai’s face pissed the hell out of Joey.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I want to hear her scream in agony after I take your life away!”

“Ggh…!” Joey tried to pick up the Salamandra. “Rex… Where the hell are… you…”

“Dammit, get out of our way!” Though the enemies Amber fought on the way to the Club meeting room were weak, their numbers were enough to overwhelm her.

“Need some help?” Rex asked before transforming himself, felling most of the enemies and weakening the rest.

“Papa! You shouldn’t be-” Amber would have scolded her mother if she hadn’t noticed what Rex’s transformation had done.

“Hehe!” Rex remained in rabbit form as he ran with Amber. “I might not be a strong monster, but I’ve got one heck of a special ability. Surprised?”

“Yeah, at the fact that your baby bump is still intact when you switch forms. Shapeshifter physiology is a weird thing, isn’t it?”

“It shouldn’t be for a girl genius like you.”

“Papa… I know the circumstances are grave, but I don’t want you to push yourself. Let your strong daughter do the fighting.”

Rex’s endurance barely held on long enough to reach the Tabletop Gaming Club’s meeting room. As soon as he turned back into a human, his ankles swelled badly, and held onto Amber as a crutch.

“I got you, Papa. Oh?” No sooner had Rex reverted forms when Amber saw a fight going on well inside their meeting room, in the health/recreation center.

Unlike Amber, Rex recognized Watda instantly - as well as the captive he held by the neck. “That’s the guy who captured me! And he’s got Joey! Ugh!” Rex strained to transform.

“Papa, are you nuts? That man is the Crimson Devil, the strongest of the Earthbound Gods! Even I’m not match for him! H-Hey, get back here!” Amber couldn’t stop her mother from running to Watda in human form.

“Hehehe…” Watda cackled as he raised Joey above the gathering crowd - most of whom were weak monsters that didn’t dare to raise a hand against Watda. “My Earthbound Gods have lost to your friends… It’s too bad that you really lucked out and ended up dueling me ! Although I have to commend your bravery, Mr. Wheeler. It’s too bad you’re not as smart or strong as you are reckless.”

“Joey!” As much as Mai wanted to rescue the man she loved, enemies restrained her. “No! Take me instead, please!”

“D-Damn… you… Watda…” Having lost against Watda himself, Phuckdis barely had the strength to crawl on the floor, let alone fight back.

“Y-You’ll never… have… Urk!” Joey howled in pain as Watda’s nails dug into his neck, drawing blood.

“You’re trying to protect the man who tried to steal your soul, and the one whom you call a ‘duelin’ disgrace?’ Hah!” Watda used his free hand to grab Joey’s head, with the intent to twist it off. “I’ll show you the consequences of being a nice guy, you bleeding-heart filth! You don’t even deserve the honour of final words!”

“And I’ll show you the consequences of messing with my friends!” Rex thundered as he quickly shifted and latched onto one of Watda’s arms.

“Wh-What? Yeowch!” Thanks to Rex’s special effect, Watda could feel his strength draining. “You damned rabbit! How did you escape?”

“Not gonna tell you! But you best think how you’re going to escape!”

“What do you- Argh!” Before Watda could even turn around, an arrow from Amber pierced his shoulder.

“You’re… gonna pay!” Amber continued to shoot a flurry of arrows, chasing Watda out of the building. “Wait! ...Dammit, he got away! Let me-”

From an all-fours position, Rex grabbed one of Amber’s ankles. “Amber, not now… Just look around you.”

“Papa…” Amber noticed that in this battle, many Club members have already died, the vast majority of them killed by Watda.

“At least we know who are enemies are now.”

“...Fine.” Amber turned back into a human and glanced at Joey. “Just so you know, I still hate you. I didn’t do what I did because I consider you a friend.”

“Hehe, I know you do. You just won’t admit it!” Joey’s tone turned serious when he looked down at Rex. “That was a bold thing you did, man. Not only are you super pregnant, but you got beat to a pulp for gods know how long. I’m… I’m sorry for all that I said about you in the past. I take it all back.”

“It’s cool, dude…” Rex decided he couldn’t move anymore, and leaned against a giant wooden table for rest.

“Ugh.” Amber instead turned her attention to her incapacitated allies, Phuckdis and William. “Guys, are you okay?”

“Barely…” Phuckdis managed to stand on his feet, and helped his brother stand up too. “More importantly, Lady Amber… We’ve finally done it. We can now complete our mission.”

“Oh?” Amber looked to the smaller crowd, gathered around… something.

“‘Lady’ Amber? Come to think of it, I think I’ve heard her called that before…” Rex couldn’t see what was going on, even though he wasn’t very far.

“...Stay where you are, Rex.” Amber didn’t allow Rex to move one more inch forward.

“Amber?” Rex’s heart broke a little when Amber called him by his name. “Let me see what’s the ruckus over there!”

“Oh, I will.” Amber gestured for her soldiers to move out of the way, and when they dispersed, Rex could see Weevil - bound at the ankles, weak, and completely void of emotion.

“Weevil! You’re okay…” Rex attempted to crawl over to where Weevil was, but the ankle pain held him back.

“Rex… I don’t think you realize what kind of enemies we’re up against.”

“I’ve learned enough when I was captured. They want Weevil to join them because he’s an almighty god. And who wouldn’t?”

“They don’t want him for just any reason… He’s an Earthbound God, destined to cause ruin.”

Rex remembered what Dip told him, but tried to deny it. “Th-That’s not true! I thought you knew better than anyone that he can use his powers for good!”

“For now, yes… But in time… In time…” Amber walked towards Weevil and stared him down. “Their minds will become so corrupt that they have no choice but to fulfill their destiny. And when they’re with their own kind, they’ll cause unspeakable destruction.”

“Amber, that’s nonsense!”

Amber’s body and voice shook. “After seeing this destruction myself, I can hardly call it nonsense! The Earthbound Gods are what ruined my future! It was them… They were the ones who…”

“You’re not serious…?” Rex hugged himself to stop trembling.

“I saw it with my own eyes! Weevil was the one who killed my baby brother… My boyfriend…” Amber looked at the members of the “Dweeb Patrol,” who were even more confused than Rex. “All of you… And… you, Rex. Weevil killed you right in front of me.”

“Oh… my gods…” Rex wanted to throw up just from hearing this awful story.

“This… has been my mission… all along…” Amber half-shifted and pointed her arrow at Weevil, who looked up at her without a gleam in his eyes.

“Amber!” Rex couldn’t stop crying. “Do you mean to tell me you were duping me this whole time? That all along, your only real goal was to kill Weevil?”

“That’s right. This overgrown spider is the only thing standing between our future and complete freedom!”

“Amber…” Rex cried. “I… I can’t believe what I’m hearing… No, I won’t believe it!”

“And now… I challenge my fate!” Amber’s arrow glowed brightly.

“Do it, Lady Amber.” Phuckdis ordered. “Your mother is already pregnant with your present self, so you can still live. And Francis… He never deserved to live in such a terrible future. Do this, and his soul will be appeased.”

“Haha…” Amber’s eyes hardened on Weevil. “I’m going to free everyone… I’m going to save the world! All I have to do is kill one bloody Earthbound God! And I’m going to do it in front of your very eyes, Rex!”

“Amber… Argh!” No matter how much it hurt, no matter how much Phuckdis and William pulled his legs, Rex crawled forward.

“Don’t you dare interfere in our mission, Rex!” Phuckdis threatened to stab Rex’s legs with his sword. “I don’t care if you’re pregnant! I won’t hesitate to hurt you!”

“Amber… I know you don’t want to do this. The bonds your father and I have forged with you over the past few months are real. They’re not something you want to end with a stupid, puny arrow. Even though you’re barely younger than us, Weevil and I really love you as our daughter. Isn’t there any room in your heart for the father who raised you? The father who taught you everything there is to know about insects and dueling? The father would would take all the pain and suffering in the world just to make you happy?”

“Shut… up…” Amber started to tear up.

“Amber… I want us to live and bond as a family. There’s got to be another way. Let’s put all this behind us and go on another mall trip, or walk in the park. But whatever you do… please, don’t do this.”

“Shut up, Rex! You’re just making it harder!” Amber’s aim at Weevil’s heart began to waver.

“But you can save him! We’ve done it before!”

“No. Look at him! He’s too far gone now... He doesn’t even remember who the fuck you are, Rex! This is the only way I can save the world - and Weevil’s soul. I… I don’t want to see this man suffer in the soulless shell that was once Weevil Underwood. I’d… rather… Sniff…”

“Rex… Weevil…” Even the normally-proud Joey, the Joey that once despised Rex and Weevil with everything he had, couldn’t help but shed tears of his own.

“Weevil…” Amber choked on her own breath, and she pulled her bowstring as far back as she could. “Sorry, not sorry.”

So were Amber’s final words as she tearfully let her arrow fly at Weevil full speed.

#yugioh #ygo #shrimpshipping #mpreg #fanfiction #this chapter legit made me cry #super obvious Fire Emblem Awakening references in this chapter hahaha

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cocastyle · 5 years

Text

The In-Between Chapter 6

Stranger Things x It Crossover

with some Bill Denbrough x reader

Word Count - 7,455

Warning - cursing (if people don’t like that kind of stuff)

A/N- so I kind of got carried away with this chapter and wrote over 7000 words lol, but I couldn’t really split this chapter up considering what’s about to come in the next chapter so I just left it as is (the next chapter is going to have so many interactions with the two groups you won’t be ready!) I really hope you all like this chapter because I worked hard on it and am actually really proud of the way it turned out! leave a comment with your thoughts on the chapter and with any predictions that you have for the future🤩

if you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know!

T H E I N - B E T W E E N

Intro The Losers’ Club The Party Prolouge 1 2

3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 Epilogue

"Wh-Wh-What is she doing?" Bill whispered as he gently nudged Y/N's side.

The girl stared ahead at Eleven who was busy putting a radio on a station that only had static playing before she glanced at Bill. She sent him a small smile that had him blushing and smiling back. "You'll see," she whispered.

Y/N let out a small gasp as she remembered something and quickly disappeared up the stairs and into her house before returning a few seconds later with a cloth in her hand. She walked over and handed it to Eleven who gave her a small smile before beginning to fold it and wrap it around her eyes like a blindfold.

"A blindfold?" Richie asked. He then smirked before winking in Eleven's direction. "Kinky. Now all we need is some handcuffs and-"

"Beep beep Richie!" the Losers Club cried out while the Party all looked at Richie in disgust.

Y/N shook her head at the boy before looking to the Party with an apologetic smile, "Sorry about him. He hadn't quite matured yet if you can't tell."

"Hey!" Richie complained.

"Oh hush," Y/N told him making the boy pout. She chuckled and ruffled his hair much to his annoyance before she turned her attention back to Eleven who was finished setting up.

"Remember, you have to be quiet," Y/N reminded the Losers, making a point to stare at Richie longer than the others. They all nodded before looking to Eleven who was now sitting on the ground, the radio static playing behind her.

The room was so quiet that one could have heard a pin drop. The prospect of Eleven doing something that could help them with their mission to find Mine being enough to make even Richie keep his mouth shut.

It took a minute, but Eleven suddenly let out a small gasp before whispering, "Mike."

Y/N noticed Wheeler frown a little at that seeing as she was talking about a different Mike instead of him. It was unusual that was for sure and Y/N had thought it was weird knowing two Mikes as well when she first moved to Derry. But since she had called him Wheeler since they were kids, calling Mike Hanlon by his first name hadn't been too weird for her.

"I. . .I see him," Eleven whispered out making the Losers all furrow their eyebrows and look to Y/N confused. She just gave them a look and gestured towards Eleven in response and they all looked back to the girl who had some blood starting to peak out from her nose.

"He. . .He's hiding by some water," Eleven said.

"The quarry," Y/N muttered as she looked to the others. Their eyes widened slightly and they watched as Y/N walked over and bent down in front of her friend.

Y/N reached out and gently took ahold of Eleven's hand, the girl instantly latching onto hers in return. "Tell Mike that we're coming for him," Y/N whispered, tears springing in her eyes. "Tell him he's going to be okay."

"Your friends. . .they're coming for you. Hang in there, Mike. You're going to be okay," Eleven muttered, although Y/N knew she was talking to Mike Hanlon.

"Hurry," a voice suddenly came from the radio causing the Losers and Y/N to jump in surprise at the sound of their friend's voice. "Please hurry."

Eleven's face then scrunched up in pain and she let out a loud gasp before ripping the blindfold from her face. Her eyes frantically looked around before locking with Y/N's. "He's okay," she assured him. Y/N wiped away her tears and gave Eleven a small smile before hugging her friend in thanks.

"What the fuck was that?”

The two girls pulled away from each other to see the Losers looking more confused then ever. "What the fuck just happened?" Richie questioned, his eyes wide. "What did she do and how the hell does she know that Mike is okay?"

Y/N took in a deep breath before standing up and slowly approaching her friends. "Guys, so Eleven kind of has these powers. She was able to mentally connect with Mike and get a picture of where he was and give him a message," Y/N explained.

"I'm sorry. What?" Stan asked confused.

"Powers like superpowers?" Ben questioned.

"I guess," Y/N replied. "I know it's hard to understand but-"

"Hard to understand? It's crazy! You know what, I'm calling bullshit," Richie announced.

"But Mike's voice-" Y/N began.

"We don't even know if that was his voice because all I could hear was a bunch of fucking static! How am I supposed to believe you when the only thing that I saw happen was that girl get a fucking nosebleed and bleed all over your basement?" Richie asked.

Wheeler narrowed his eyes at the boy and went over to his girlfriend who he helped off the ground while Eleven wiped the blood from her nose. He was about to say something when he saw Y/N raise an eyebrow at the boy and cross her arms.

"You want proof? Evidence?" Y/N questioned, not a look of hesitation on her face. Richie was silent before nodding his head. "Okay, asshole. Here's your fucking proof."

She then walked over to one of the closet doors of the basement before opening it and walking back over to the group. Richie was about to question her when the door slammed shut making him and the other Losers all jump in surprise.

The door then began to open and slam shut repeatedly and Richie was hesitant before he turned to look at Eleven who had one hand up in the air. The door slammed shut for a final time and Eleven lowered her hand before wiping the small bit of blood below her nose away.

"Holy shit! She's an X-Men!" Eddie exclaimed in disbelief making Dustin chuckle since he had thought the same thing when he first met Eleven.

Y/N smirked and looked to Richie while the other Losers and the Party watched the girl in amusement. "That enough proof for you?" she asked.

Richie made a face in response and Y/N chuckled before looking between the groups and clapping her hands together. "Now. . .we may know that Mike is okay right now, but that doesn't mean he will be forever. We need to start making plans and preparing because first thing after school tomorrow, we are going to the Well House to save Mike and kill those other motherfuckers before it's too late. Everyone okay with that?" Y/N announced.

The Parry and the Losers' Club all nodded in agreement and Y/N smirked.

"Great. Let's get to work."

- - -

Bill bit his lip in concentration as he used a ruler to draw lines through the map of Derry. His job, and the job of all the Losers, was to split a map of Derry up into four different sectors. When they left to go find Mike tomorrow, half of the whole group would be staying behind while the other half broke off into pairs and searched the specific sections of the Upside Down's version of Derry.

Since the Upside Down was pretty much a replica of the real world, Y/N had thought it would be a good idea to use a map of Derry to break up the sections. Because the Losers knew Derry the best, they had offered to split the map up while the Party got weapons ready seeing as they knew what would work best against a demogorgon if it were to attack.

Y/N had started out with the Losers at first, but it hadn't taken long for her to migrate over to the Party whom she had been spending the last hour with. The Losers hadn't thought much of it at first, but they couldn't help but notice the way she seemed to totally forget about them as she laughed and joked around with the Party, a smile on her face that looked nothing like the usual smile they got to see.

Bill had to force himself not to look up, reminding himself that Y/N was just excited to see her friends again. That's why Bill had put all his effort into the maps he was making, Beverly being the only other person to help him while Stan, Ben, Eddie, and Richie all watched Y/N and the Party with frowns on their faces and jealously coursing through their blood.

Glares were on the four boys faces and they only narrowed their eyes more at the sight of Y/N with her arms linked with Will as she talked to Steve and Lucas. "She forgot about us," Stan whispered softly, sadness laced in his voice despite his angered appearance.

"I can't believe it," Ben muttered, feeling awful at the idea that the Party made Y/N happier than they did. Him and the others could tell by the look of pure joy on her face just how much happier she was around the Party and that only fueled their jealousy more.

"Well believe it, Benny. We're yesterday's news," Richie frowned, glaring slightly as a bitter taste filled his mouth.

"Look how happy they make her. I don't think I've ever made her laugh that hard," Eddie muttered sadly as he too came to the realization that Y/N was happier around the Party than she was around them.

"It's cause you're not funny, Eds," Richie shot back. "No wonder Y/N left us. We're a bunch of losers literally."

"Sh-Sh-Shut up," Bill called out, tired of their behavior and tones.

Richie whirled around so fast that he whacked Eddie who let out a cry of protest. "Are you fucking kidding me?" he said as he looked at Bill in disbelief. When Bill didn't look up, Richie stomped over to his friend. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Are you really so blind that you don't see your girl over there with her arms fucking linked with another boy? He's stealing her right in front of your eyes, dumbass. How are you not the slightest bit mad or jealous?" Richie asked. "Cause me being Y/N's friend and seeing her talking to them and not us is making me mad and I'm not the one that had a crush on her."

Bill frowned at that and looked up, but he froze at the sight of Y/N laughing at something Dustin had told her as she leaned into Will and wiped at her tears. Her arm was linked with Will's like Richie had said and she was resting her head on his shoulder as she looked up at Dustin with a huge grin on her face.

Bill's heart broke at the sight.

Bill cleared his throat and quickly looked away, blinking fast to keep the tears from coming. "Sh-Sh-She's not my g-g-girl. She can d-d-do whatever the h-h-hell she w-w-wants," he muttered.

Richie felt a wave of guilt wash over him once he realized how upset he had just made his friend, but Y/N's laughter had him turning back to look at her, a new wave of anger washing over him at the fact that she was now hurting Bill without even knowing it.

"How can someone be that funny? I mean, there's no way!" Richie exclaimed.

"Aren't they supposed to be gathering weapons anyways? Not joking around?" Stan asked.

"They did gather weapons," Ben pointed out as he gestured towards the few crowbars, bats, and other weapons they had gathered. "They even got flashlights and rope."

"Still, how are they so funny? Especially that Wheeler kid. She must be laughing at how funny looking he is," Richie concluded making the others raise their eyebrows at him.

Beverly rolled her eyes at Richie before glancing at Bill who was busy glaring at Will and Dustin. Beverly scoffed and stood up causing the Losers to all snap their attention over to her.

"Are you all being serious right now?" Beverly asked while the boys all gave her confused looks, not understanding what she was getting at. "You know that Y/N cares about each of you more than life itself, but you also need to understand that she can care about other people just as much. They were her first friends, guys. That group went through so much shit together just like we have and they haven't seen each other in two whole years!"

The boys didn't respond and Beverly just gave them an angry look as she narrowed her eyes. "I swear to God if Y/N hears one word from your jealous asses I will kill you. Now stop being self conscious pussies and be happy for your friend," she spat before she stormed away from the group and over to the Party.

They watched as Y/N's eyes lit up at the sight of Beverly before she grabbed the girl's arm and pulled her over to Max and Eleven, the four girls instantly falling into conversation. The boys all felt a wave of guilt wash over them, but none of them felt like going over and trying to talk to Y/N or the rest of the members of the Party.

It took only a minute before Richie, Eddie, Stan and Ben returned to their complaining as they watched their friend, but Bill took the longest to return back to what he had been doing before. His eyes were still on Y/N and his heart ached as he watched her.

He knew there was some truth to Beverly's words, but it was hard to believe everything she said after he had seen how happy Y/N was. How come he couldn't make her laugh like that? Or smile like that?

He would do anything to be in the receiving end of that smile. Hell, he would probably swoon at the sight.

Did she not like him the way he thought she had? For a moment he had thought she maybe returned his feelings, but now he wasn't so sure. If she had then he would be able to make her that happy, right?

Bill let out a small sigh and took in a deep breath before going back to the maps, trying everything in his power not to let his feelings get to him so much. But even he couldn't stop the one traitor tear from falling down his face as he realized he would never be able to make Y/N as happy as he had hoped.

If only he knew how he looked in Y/N's eyes. Then maybe he wouldn't have doubted himself and maybe he wouldn't have ended up hurting her later that night.

- - -

"Y/N!" Eleven cried out as she jumped onto the girl from behind, a laugh escaping her lips as she wrapped her arms around her giggling friend who had been busy sorting through the weapons with Steve and Wheeler.

"El!" Y/N mockingly yelled back as she looked over her shoulder at her friend.

Eleven chuckled and got off of her before glancing over at Steve and Wheeler. "I'm going to steal her for a few minutes," she said. She didn't bother waiting for a response from the boys before she was dragging Y/N away and over to where Beverly and Max were sitting.

"No, yeah I love your hair! I always wanted to try and cut mine short, but I'm afraid it will turn out bad," Max said as she looked at Beverly's haircut. "Who cut your hair because it looks so good!"

"I did actually," Beverly told her.

"No way!" Max gasped. "It looks so good, Beverly!"

"Thanks," Beverly said before she happened to notice Eleven and Y/N walking up to them. "Oh, hey Y/N!"

"Hey," Y/N greeted as Max also turned to look at her friends. Max's eyes lit up at the sight of the girl and she was quick to stand up before her and Eleven practically shoved Y/N into the place Max had just been sitting.

"Woah, okay," Y/N muttered as she adjusted herself so that she was more comfortable. When she looked back up, Eleven and Max were looking at her expectantly while Beverly gave her an apologetic smile.

"What?" Y/N asked, her eyes narrowing in curiosity as she wondered what her friends were up to.

"So we've been talking to Beverly," Max began. "She was telling us some funny stories about you when we heard some interesting stuff and-"

"Tell us about you and Bill!" Eleven interrupted, her eyes shining with excitement as she clasped her hands together and tucked them under her chin.

Y/N's eyes widened. "Me and Bill? Wh-What about me and Bill?" she asked. "We're just friends."

Max and Eleven both gave each other a look before raising their eyebrows at their friend. "Come on. We can tell by the way you look at him that you like him. Just admit it," Max prompted.

"What?" Y/N asked, her voice high and her face a dark shade of red. "Me like Bill?"

"Friends don't lie. You like him, Y/N. Admit it," Eleven insisted.

Y/N blushed even more before burying her face into her hands. "Okay, I like him," she whispered, not looking up to watch as her friends let out squeals and began to whack each other.

"We knew it!" Max exclaimed. "Beverly already told us, but like, we knew it!"

Y/N lifted her head to glance over at Beverly who smiled sheepishly. "They did already know it," Beverly said.

"So it's that obvious?" Y/N asked with wide eyes filled with horror at the thought of Bill knowing that she liked him.

"To everyone but you two," Eleven said.

"Yeah, Bill's kind of oblivious," Beverly agreed. "I don't think he knows."

Y/N let out a small sigh of relief causing Max to raise an eyebrow. "Would it be so bad if he did?" the red head asked.

"I mean, I guess not," Y/N whispered as she looked down. She would love to be able to tell Bill how she felt, to let him know just how much he meant to her even if he didn't feel the same way.

"But," Beverly said, already knowing that wasn't all the girl had to say.

"What if it ruins our friendship? What if he doesn't feel the same way?" Y/N asked.

The three girls' mouths dropped open at the same time before they all laughed. "First of all, he does feel the same way. It's obvious just by the way he looks at you like you're an angel walking on this earth," Max said.

"Secondly, it won't ruin your friendship," Eleven told her.

"What they said. I'm pretty sure that even if you and Bill went south that you two would still be friends. You two have been close ever since you moved here, Y/N. He wouldn't be the type of person to push you away like that. Besides, I wouldn't let him and I'm sure El and Max wouldn't either," Beverly said.

"Yeah, we'd beat his ass," Max agreed while Eleven nodded her head in agreement.

Y/N chuckled and smiled softly at her friends. "Thanks. I love you all so much," she said causing Eleven, Max, and Beverly to smile before they pulled the girl in for a group hug.

When they pulled away, they thankfully let the topic of Bill drop. Max and Eleven began talking to Beverly about her hair again and about her relationship with Ben while Y/N slowly zoned out.

She let her eyes flicker over to Bill who was across the room still working on the maps and trying to fold them. As if sensing her gaze, his eyes flickered up and locked with hers. Y/N sent a small smile in his direction, but to her surprise he didn't even smile before he just looked down at the maps again.

Y/N blinked in surprise before quickly looking away with a sad look on her face, not noticing the way that Bill looked back up at her sadly after.

- - -

It was around eleven o'clock that night before Y/N heard Ben call out, "We'll see you in the morning, Y/N!"

The girl quieted down her laughter and looked away from Lucas and Wheeler and over to where Beverly and Ben were standing by the stairs. Y/N was quick to get up and she smiled as she made her way across the room to hug both Ben and Beverly.

At the sight of her smile and the fact that she had left her other friends just to hug him goodbye, Ben suddenly felt a wave of guilt wash over him as he realized how wrong he had been earlier for judging the girl and for complaining about her hanging out with her other friends.

"Night, guys. I'll see you in the morning," Y/N said before pulling away to look for the others. Her smile slowly disappeared once she realized that Richie, Eddie, Stan, and Bill were all gone.

"Where. . .where did the others go?" Y/N questioned as she looked to Ben and Beverly confused.

Ben looked down at his shoes before saying, "They all left a little bit ago. Bill went first and then Richie, Eddie, and Stan followed not too long after."

"Why?" Y/N asked, trying not to sound upset. "They didn't even start goodbye."

Ben didn't respond and Y/N frowned before saying, "Uh. . .I guess I'll see you guys in the morning, yeah?"

Beverly and Ben nodded with small smiles before turning to go up the stairs. "Bye, Y/N," the two called out before disappearing into the night.

Y/N kind of stood there for a moment after the door closed behind them, her thoughts racing as she tried to think of a reason for her friends' sudden departure. Had she done something wrong? Were they okay?

Hands on her shoulders made her jump slightly, but she instantly relaxed when she looked over her shoulder to see Steve standing right behind her. He titled his head slightly and gave her one of his warm smiles before asking with a hint of worry on his voice, "You okay, squirt?"

Y/N turned completely to face him before smiling softly and hugging the boy. She dug her face into his side and he wrapped his arms around her with no questions asked. Y/N was silent as she breathed in his scent, a small feeling of familiarity and her childhood washing over her.

"I'm doing good," she whispered, her heart warm due to the fact that her two friend groups had finally met and she had them both by her side. "I'll be better when Mike's home though. He's so sweet and kind. We like to go out to his farm sometimes and I'll help him with the animals. You're going to love him."

"As long as he's not like Trashmouth, I'm sure I will," Steve laughed making Y/N chuckle softly as she pulled away to look at the boy.

"Oh, Richie's not that bad. He can take things far and curse most of the time, but he's got a kind heart and he is probably one of the best people you'll meet once you really get to know him," Y/N said, a smile on her face as she talked about her friend.

"They all are in fact. I mean, you've got Stan who is easy to relate with. When he knows I'm having a bad day, he always takes me bird watching and doesn't pester me with what's wrong, only stays by my side so I'm not alone. Then there's Ben who is the sweetest little human being you'll ever meet. He's the boy that will go to the library all the time with me just to research random things."

"We've got Eddie who is practically the mother of the group sometimes. He cares about my health more than I do and is always making sure that I'm okay. There's a little hammock in one of the group's hang out spots and he'll always sit with me and we'll read comics together. Then you've got Beverly who's a total badass. I tell her practically everything and I swear she knows more about me than I do. Every Saturday morning, we take a break from the boys and will go out to breakfast and catch up."

"Finally, you've got Bill. He's the one that I'm closest to out of all of them. He was my first real friend and helped me a lot on my first day of school," Y/N said. She looked down and smiled fondly as she whispered, "I'll never be able to pay him back for what he's done for me." She was quiet for a second before looking up at Steve and saying, "He means a lot to me. They all do really."

Steve smiled softly at the girl as she rambled in about her friends, a warm feeling of relief washing over him as he realized that Y/N has been fine and loved over the past two years.

"You really care about those friends of yours, huh?" Steve asked, a knowing look on his face.

Y/N smiled fondly and nodded her head as she softly said, "They're my best friends. I would do anything for them just like I would for you guys."

Steve's smile grew slightly at that, thankful that Y/N had some pretty great friends by her side. Y/N smiled back before turning to check and make sure that the weapons and maps were ready. Once she knew that they were, she clapped her hands together once before saying to the Party, "Okay, now that we have a plan to head out after school tomorrow and everything is all set up. . .who wants to watch a movie?"

The Party all perked up at that. "Yes! Star Wars please!" Will exclaimed.

"What? No, let's watch Back to the Future," Dustin complained.

"I vote Star Wars," Max agreed.

"Me too," Lucas said.

"No, guys. Back to the Future all the way," Wheeler argued while Eleven nodded her head in agreement.

"Back to the Future's the one where the mom is trying to hook up with her son, right?" Steve asked.

"I mean that's not the point of the movie, but yes," Y/N said with a small laugh.

"Okay, I vote that one," Steve said.

"Sorry, Will. I've got to go with Back to the Future which means that Back to the Future wins," Y/N said making the boy pout. Y/N just gave him a small smile which he returned before she gestured towards the stairs that led up to her house. "I'll be back."

In just a matter of minutes, Y/N had sprinted upstairs and found the movie. She had received a call from her parents a few hours before about how they had a last minute business conference an hour away that they had to go to and would be gone for the next couple of days, so it was no surprise that no one was around when she was running around trying to find the movie.

Upon finding the movie, Y/N began to make her way towards the basement when she paused next to the phone. She stared at it in silence for a moment before setting the movie down, picking up the phone, and dialing the number that she knew by heart due to the many late night conversations she had with the person on the other end of the line.

"H-H-Hello?"

"Bill?" Y/N said. "It's Y/N."

"Oh. H-H-Hi, Y/N," Bill muttered.

Y/N frowned slightly, but shrugged it off. "I just wanted to call and see if you were okay. You left early, so I wasn't sure if something was wrong," she said.

"I'm f-f-fine," Bill replied, leaving his reply at that and his tone coming out colder and sharper than usual.

Y/N blinked in surprise before nervously chuckling, "Oh, okay. That's good. Why. . .why did you leave without saying goodbye?"

"I w-w-was just tired which I s-s-still am. I'll s-s-see you in the m-m-morning, okay?" Bill told her.

"Oh, okay. Um. . .goodni-" but before Y/N could finish what she asked saying, the boy had hung up. Y/N stood there in silence, her grip on the phone loosening slightly as tears began to fill her eyes. Swallowing thickly, the girl blinked rapidly to stop her tears before taking in a deep breath.

Bill is just tired, she reminded herself. He's not trying to be mean.

Once she had calmed herself down, Y/N put a smile on her face and bounded down the stairs of her basement to have a movie night with her friends. They had all passed out within an hour, Y/N with her head against Steve's side, her feet in Dustin's lap and Will's head on her stomach. Just below them on the floor were Wheeler and Eleven cuddled up together and Max and Lucas doing the same thing.

Y/N found herself looking around the group for a quick second as she drifted in and out of consciousness. She couldn't help but smile as she remembered the nights like these that they used to have before she left Hawkins. Nancy and Jonathan had been with them too and Joyce and Hopper had been the ones to cover them all with blankets while they slept.

So with her friends surrounding her, Y/N fell asleep with memories of Hawkins and her old life filling her head.

- - -

Y/N didn't know what to think when she woke up the next day to find that everyone in the Losers' Club except for Beverly weren't talking to her. Bill hadn't even been waiting for her that morning like he usually did before they rode to school together.

Everyone was either avoiding her like Bill was or being weird and looking uncomfortable around her like Eddie was. Y/N didn't know what she had done wrong, so she went through the day having no one but Beverly by her side.

Y/N almost felt bad for having chosen to wear Bill's jacket to school that day, a sinking feeling in her gut as she thought that maybe that was only making Bill more mad at her. Beverly wouldn't tell her why he or the others were and at her in the first place, so Y/N didn't even know how to fix anything.

This meant that when lunch rolled around, it was even quieter than usual. It was actually completely silent and not even Richie had some snarky thing to say. The group all just ate their food in silence with Y/N sparing sad glances in her friends' directions while Beverly glared at the boys, pissed at the way they were acting.

Y/N tried to strike up a conversation a few times, but it always received a one word answer in response before silence followed. After a while, Y/N gave up and most of the lunch period was spent with the boys staring at their meals while Y/N stared at them with a saddened and hurt expression.

It wasn't until everyone was getting ready to leave that Y/N let out a sigh and said, "Hey, I don't know what I did, but I just wanted to tell you guys thank you for being so nice to my friends last night."

This surprised the group and they all slowly looked up at her, finally allowing their eyes to lock on her face.

"Those guys mean about as much to me as you guys do and I've been wanting to introduce you all for so long. I really hoped you guys liked them. Anyway, I'm rambling, but I really appreciate it," she told them as she gave them all a small smile despite the tears that had begun to fill her eyes.

The group all stared at her in silence as the bell rang behind them, signaling that the lunch period was over. Y/N let out another sigh and stood up as she grabbed her things. "Uh. . .I'll see you guys later," she whispered before hurrying away from the table and out of the cafeteria, leaving the boys feeling guilty.

Beverly shook her head at the boys as she stood up. "You guys are ridiculous. Not only did you not give her friends a chance last night, but now you're punishing Y/N for talking to her other friends instead of you by ignoring her? I'm disappointed in all of you," she said.

Her eyes flickered over to Bill and they narrowed. "Especially you, Bill. We all know you care about her, so why the hell would you treat her the way that you have been? She told me about the phone call last night. She called to check and see if your dumbass was okay and you were rude and snippy with her before you had the audacity to hang up on her? What the fuck were you thinking?" she asked in disbelief.

"You all need to apologize to Y/N for the way you have been acting. She has talked so highly of you to the others and you all have done nothing but prove her wrong. There's no way we are going to be able to help Mike and defeat the Upside Down and It with you all sad and not thinking straight. So man up and go apologize before you lose her for real," Beverly spat before she angrily got up from the table and stormed out of the cafeteria, no doubt going to try and find Y/N.

"Did you see how upset Y/N looked when she left?" Eddie whispered, a sinking feeling in his stomach as he broke the moment of silence that had fallen over them after Beverly left.

"She looked like she was about to cry," Ben said just above a whisper.

"We did that," Stan muttered, his head bowed as he stared at his hands sadly.

"Fuck," Richie muttered as a feeling of intense guilt hit both him and the other Losers. "We messed up big time, boys."

Bill was silent as he stared at the doors Y/N had walked through only moments before. He hadn't been blind and had noticed her wearing his jacket today, the sight making his heart flutter. But as he looked from the door to the jacket that Y/N had secretly left behind on her seat for Bill was enough to make his heart break.

Richie was right. They had messed up.

They had messed up bad.

- - -

The final bell of the day made Y/N feel both relieved and scared. Relieved because she was finally going to be able to save Mike, but scared because she would have to go back into the Upside Down and she had a sinking feeling in her gut about what was going to happen.

She hadn't seen the guys for the rest of the day, but Beverly had made sure to always stick by her side. That's how the two ended up leaving the school together with their arms locked and small laughs escaping their lips as Y/N told Beverly about the time Dustin sang the song 'Never-Ending Story' with his girlfriend Susie over a walkie talkie system for everyone to see.

"I'm not even kidding," Y/N laughed. "Just picture it. Everyone is either being chased by the fucking Mindflayer or trying to save the world and I'm sitting there watching Dustin sing his heart out with Lucas' little sister by my side. It was hilarious!"

Beverly laughed so hard that she snorted. "I bet it was. I can't believe-" she began, but she trailed off once she saw Y/N smile disappear as she froze beside her. Beverly turned her head to see what Y/N was looking at and instantly frowned at the sight of the boys all standing by their bikes waiting for the two girls.

Beverly released Y/N's arm and Y/an glanced at her friends before looking away and walking over to her bike. "I'm surprised you all waited for me," Y/N said in a monotone voice as she approached her bike.

Eddie was the first to break and he sighed before saying, "We're sorry for the way we've been acting."

Y/N froze at that and rested her hands on her bike handles before looking up at the group. "What?" she asked, both her and Beverly staring at the boys in surprise. Although Beverly was smiling slightly due to the fact that the boys were finally apologizing after a long day of no one talking to each other.

"Yeah, the way we acted was unacceptable," Ben agreed. "And we're sorry for that."

"We. . .we were jealous," Stan admitted making Y/N blink in surprise.

"Jealous?" she asked confused.

"We were jealous of your other friends. We. . .we thought you were forgetting about us, that you didn't care about us like you did them. So we turned into a bunch of fucking jealous assholes and hurt you in the process," Richie sighed and the fact that he was speaking his feelings was enough to make Y/N realize how serious they were being.

"Guys. . ."she whispered sadly, hating that she made them feel like that. "I don't want you to ever feel like that, okay? I love you all so fucking much that it scares me sometimes to be completely honest. I've known you for what, two years now? I've known the others my whole life, so of course things are going to be a little different around them. But that does not mean I don't love and care about you guys any less. The Losers' Club is my family, you guys are my family. You're my life honestly and I wouldn't trade moving here for the world."

The Losers' all teared up a little at those words and Ben was the first to drop his bike to go over and hug Y/N. The girl chuckled and hugged the boy back while the others quickly came over to hug her as well. She hugged Eddie and Stan before hugging Beverly and Richie who held her the tightest.

The one thing about Richie was that he tried to act like he didn't care when he actually cared the most, so Y/N made a point to hug him back just as hard which made the boy dig his face into her shoulder as he held her.

Once she had hugged each of them, she pulled away to see Bill kind of standing there by himself. The two hadn't hugged or even spoken to each other yet and Y/N knew that their talk was going to be a little longer and more personal than the other. Bill must've known too because he glanced at his friends and gave them a pleading look as he said, "C-C-Can you all give us a m-m-minute?"

"Yeah," Beverly said. "We'll ride on ahead and you two can catch up, okay?"

Then, before the others could complain, Beverly pushed the boys to their bikes and they all began to bike away. That left Y/N and Bill standing there at the front of the school with their bikes by their side.

Y/N looked down at her feet before whispering, "You done ignoring me now?"

There was a beat of silence and she slowly looked up through her eyelashes only to have Bill rush forward and hug her, the action making both of their bikes fall over and hit the ground. Y/N's arms were out in surprise, but she didn't hesitate to wrap her arms around the boy, closing her eyes as she breathed in his scent.

"I'm s-s-sorry," Bill whispered into her ear as he practically cradled her head against his body. "I'm so sorry. I let R-R-Richie get to me and the w-w-way I acted around you was un-un-unacceptable. I mean, even that ph-ph-phone call was rude. You w-w-were just checking up on m-m-me and I hung up on you w-w-without even giving a r-r-reason. I didn't mean to h-h-hurt you and I'm so s-s-sorry for that."

"Why'd you do it? What did Richie say?" Y/N asked softly as she pulled away to look at the boy.

"What Richie said wasn't important," Bill told her, his head bowed. "It was what I told myself that got in the way."

"And what did you tell yourself?" she questioned.

"I-I-I thought I c-c-couldn't make you as h-h-happy as they could," Bill admitted. "Th-Th-That I would n-n-never make you as h-h-happy as they could."

Y/N's face softened at that and she furrowed her eyebrows as she lifted a hand up and placed it against Bill's cheek. "Bill, why would you think such a thing?" she asked, the disbelief evident in her voice.

"The w-w-way you laughed. . .the way you s-s-smiled. . .I'd never seen you l-l-look that happy," Bill muttered.

"Bill, that's not true in any way, shape, or form," she assured him. Y/N lovingly rubbed her thumb against his cheek before smiling softly at him.

"I'm my happiest when I'm with you."

Bill blushed at that, his eyes flickering over her face before he leaned forward and rested his forehead against her own. The two both let their eyes close as they enjoyed this moment, their arms holding onto each other while their foreheads touched.

"I r-r-really am sorry," Bill whispered, not opening his eyes.

Y/N smiled softly and opened her eyes long enough so that she could push herself up on her tip toes and press a kiss to Bill's cheek. He instantly leaned into her touch, his arm that was around her pulling her even closer to his body if that was possible.

"I forgive you," Y/N assured him once she had pulled away, Bill turning his face so that their noses brushed against each other and their eyes locked. Both of their faces were red and they were silent for a moment before Y/N smiled and said, "You should know better than to listen to Richie."

Bill chuckled softly and pulled away to press a small kiss to her forehead before he pulled away from her and went over to his backpack. "Yeah, p-p-probably not my s-s-smartest move," he said as he opened his backpack and pulled out his jacket. The same jacket that Y/N had in her possession only a few hours before.

Y/N's smile dropped slightly at the sight. "Oh, I should've told you that I was leaving it for you. I hadn’t meant to keep it so long," she told him, but the boy only smiled and walked over to her with it in his hand.

"I-I-I want you to w-w-wear it," Bill admitted, both of the teens' faces growing redder by the second.

"Really?" Y/N asked, her face lighting up slightly and a hopeful tone in her voice.

Bill nodded and Y/N smiled before turning around. Bill held the jacket up and she slid her arms into the sleeves before Bill put the jacket on her the rest of the way. She turned around and gave the boy a teasing smile.

"So how do I look?" Y/N asked as she struck a few poses for him, a giggle escaping her lips as she did.

Bill chuckled and smiled fondly at the girl. "Beautiful," he told her. "Just like always."

Y/N blushed slightly before going to grab her bike. She picked it up before sending a small smile in Bill's direction. "Come on, Bill. It's time to go save our friend," she said.

And with that, the two got onto their bikes and began to bike after their friends, Bill's eyes locked on Y/N and his jacket that was blowing in the wind behind her.

* * *

Tag List

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archdukecaleb · 4 years

Text

Freezerburn Week 2020 — Day 5: Video Games

Ok, so this little piece takes place at Beacon Academy. Enjoy!

Word Count: 3528

When Weiss and Yang entered their dorm room, Weiss took a seat at her desk. She had some work to catch up on from missing classes the previous day.

She reached into her bag and pulled out some notes that Blake had kindly written for her and got to work.

She barely got through the first page by the time Yang was looking over her shoulder.

"Whatcha doing?" said Yang.

"Catching up on a few things," said the heiress with nonchalance.

"Do that later," said Yang as she walked over to the gaming console.

"I beg your pardon?" said Weiss turning in her chair.

Yang pulled out her scroll, connected it to the console, and looked at Weiss, "Want to play?"

The heiress chuckled, "I've got more important things to do than play stupid video games, Yang."

"Suit yourself," shrugged Yang.

Yang sat, cross-legged, in front of the screen and began to play a game.

She moved her character—a rather large and hairy man wielding a battle axe—in front of another character who was much smaller and held up a simple katana.

Almost instantly, the small swordsman swung her blade at the large man from every direction. Yang swiftly moved her fingers, using the controls to land a few hits on the swordsman, only for the swordsman to parry and land another long string of slices and stabs on Yang's character.

Yang huffed and pouted as she watched her character's head roll on the floor.

The brawler hit 'retry' and was sent into the same fight.

After landing two more hits than she had the last time, Yang watched her character's head hit the ground, once again.

"Oh, come on!" she growled as she hit 'retry' again.

Weiss was now watching Yang play this game of hers. She was mildly amused by how riled up the brawler got from losing in a stupid video game.

"You've got to be kidding! I totally landed that one!" Yang complained as she stared at the 'retry' button.

Weiss couldn't contain the small giggle that left her lips.

Yang looked at the heiress, "What are you laughing at?" she pouted.

"I'm laughing at you," Weiss giggled.

"Don't you have 'more important things to do' or something?" Yang said as she loaded up the fight again.

"I'm taking a break," said Weiss as she took a seat on her bed.

Weiss watched the small swordsman move in response to Yang's inputs. It seemed like her blade always hit its mark, and she always blocked Yang's attacks and countered them.

The heiress observed as the swordsman attacked from left and right and above. She could sense a pattern and paid closer attention to the small swordsman.

By the time Yang lost the fight, Weiss had a rough idea of what the pattern was. The swordsman always attacked from the right, left, left, above, left, right, above, then above.

As Yang started the fight, again, Weiss watched as the string of attacks began. The swordsman swung her blade from the right, left, left, and then…

"Block from above!" Weiss shouted at Yang got confused and watched the blade slash her character from above, "How did you miss that? I told you it would come from above!"

Yang desperately tried to land a hit on the swordsman, but the large man could not swing his battle axe fast enough.

"Stop trying to hit her. Block the left!" Weiss emphasized.

"She won't die if I don't hit her, Weiss!" Yang complained as her character was slashed from the left.

After a few more strikes, Yang's character was dead again.

"You can't hit her if you're dead, Yang," said Weiss as she stood up and sat down next to Yang, "Give me your scroll."

Yang smirked at the heiress and handed over her scroll, "You really think you can beat her? I've been playing this game for months, and I still can't get past her."

"Which will make it even more embarrassing for you when I beat her," Weiss said as she looked at the blonde, smugly. Weiss clicked 'retry' and immediately realized she didn't know how to play the game and paused it, "Uh… how do I attack?"

Yang laughed as she pointed to the buttons, "These two buttons are your light and heavy attacks, and you use this to change the direction for where you block or attack."

Weiss un-paused the game and walked over to the swordsman and began their fight.

Instead of immediately throwing an attack at her, as Yang did, she waited for the swordsman to begin her string of attacks.

The heiress remembered the pattern and whispered it to herself as she managed to get through the string without letting a single strike hit her.

The swordsman was now low on stamina and relented on her attacks, leaving an opening for Weiss to strike at her.

She landed two hits on the swordsman before she started blocking her attacks.

Yang's smirk was gone as her jaw became ajar, "Wow," was all she could muster.

The swordsman started the string again, but this time it was much faster, and the large man was not fast enough to block her strikes.

The man was cut into pieces and now Weiss stared at the screen, defeated, while Yang's smirk returned.

Weiss furrowed her eyebrows, "Wait! That's not fair! This savage can't move fast enough to block her attacks!" she pouted.

"You can swap him out for someone else if you want," said Yang as she took the scroll from Weiss. She navigated to the character selection screen and showed it to Weiss, "See? You can be any one of these guys," she said, handing the scroll back.

Weiss carefully analyzed each fighter before settling on a knight with a longsword.

She started up the fight and went through the first string of attacks, this time landing three hits on the swordsman. When the second string of attacks started, Weiss was able to block each slash and land three more strikes when the string was over.

Now the third string began, and it was even faster than the last two. Weiss was barely able to get through the flurry of sword strikes unscathed but was successful none the less. She landed the final blow on the swordsman and felt a wave of accomplishment flush over her as the swordsman's head hit the floor this time.

"Holy crap. You did it!" said Yang, looking at Weiss.

"It wasn't that difficult," said Weiss, smugly.

"Well, that was just a bot. You want to really see how good you are and fight a real person?" challenged Yang.

Weiss though for a moment and pulled out her own scroll to connect to the gaming system, "You are so on."

After setting up her scroll, Weiss chose her knight and Yang chose her savage, and they loaded into a fight.

Yang immediately began to throw heavy attacks at Weiss' knight, in what seemed to be a random direction each time.

Weiss blocked everything she could and tried to find any kind of pattern. She ended up finding out Yang simply swung left, right, and above over again.

By the time she learned this, her character had a sliver of health and she couldn't do anything to stop a quick, cheap jab from above from killing her knight.

"No! I demand a rematch!" pouted Weiss.

"Oh? So, you want to lose again?" said Yang with a smirk.

"I assure you, I will not lose this time," Weiss stated, defiantly.

Yang clicked the 'rematch' button and they loaded into another fight.

Just as Weiss predicted, Yang instantly started throwing attacks. Weiss blocked them as she simply waited for Yang's stamina to run out.

As soon as she found her opening, Weiss threw several light attacks at the savage, until he laid, dead, on the ground.

"Ha! Take that, Yang!" Weiss stuck a finger in her face.

Yang moved the finger, "I was going easy on you that time. Let's do best of three."

Weiss agreed, and they began another fight. This time, Yang waited for Weiss to strike first. As soon as she blocked Weiss' first attack, Yang made her savage swing violently at Weiss' knight.

The knight was only hit by the first strike, and Weiss made him block the rest of the savage's predictable attacks.

Soon enough, Weiss saw her opening and slew the savage once again.

"Yes!" shouted Weiss as she shot up from her cross-legged position on the ground, "I win!"

Seeing Weiss this happy brought a smile to Yang's face, "GG Weiss," she said as she stood up and held her hand out for Weiss to shake.

Weiss griped her hand, firmly, "GG?"

"It means 'good game,'" said Yang, still shaking her hand.

"Oh. Well, good game to you too," said Weiss.

As the two girls released the other's hand, they heard the door unlock and turned to see Blake open the door with Ruby in tow.

"Rubes! Fight me on this game!" Yang insisted.

Ruby looked at the screen to find out what game Yang was talking about, "Oh no, Yang. You are not getting me to play that game with you. You are way too good."

Weiss stepped forward, "Good because I want to fight Ruby," she said as she plucked Yang's scroll from her hand and gave it to Ruby.

"Wait. Weiss? You are playing video games? I thought you hated video games," said Ruby, confused.

"Just shut up and fight me, Ruby," said Weiss as she turned and sat in front of the screen again.

Ruby looked at her sister, "Yang… what have you done?"

Yang just smirked, "Your duel awaits, Baby Sis…"

Ruby sat down, next to Weiss, and selected her character. It was a smaller knight with two daggers.

Weiss started up the duel and started off by blocking the new, unfamiliar, pattern as best as she could.

Ruby's fighter was much faster than Yang's savage, and it was difficult trying to keep up with the directions in her mind, but eventually, Weiss had the red girl's attack pattern memorized and began to block everything perfectly.

Weiss landed a few hits on Ruby's fighter but ended up dying because of a poison ability that was available to Ruby's character.

"Rematch!" Weiss shouted as she clicked the 'rematch' button.

Ruby smiled at the heiress, "You're really into this game, huh?"

"Ruby, pay attention," Weiss ordered as her knight squared up with Ruby's.

Ruby's knight lunged at Weiss', stabbing him with her poisoned blade.

Weiss did not see it coming and noticed her health was slowly diminishing. She had to kill Ruby's knight, fast.

Weiss made her knight block all of Ruby's attacks and waited for her to run out of stamina.

When Ruby realized she had run out of stamina, she tried to make her knight run away, but Weiss did not let that happen and landed two heavy attacks on her, killing her.

"What? I was so far away! How did you get me!" Ruby looked at the smirking heiress, "Two out of three!"

"I accept," said Weiss.

After a slightly closer match, Ruby's knight was slain by Weiss' knight, and Ruby could not believe it.

"Three out of five!" Yelled Ruby as she grew hungry for a win against the heiress.

After another hard-fought battle, Weiss won again.

"What the heck! How are you so good at this game, Weiss?" Ruby pouted.

Yang answered for her, "Ruby, you are so predictable it's not even funny."

Weiss started laughing, "Yang, that is so precious coming from you!"

Yang smirked and shook her head.

Ruby looked at Yang, "What is she talking about?"

"Weiss beat me two out of three before you guys showed up," said Yang in reply.

Ruby gasped, "No way! You're lying!"

"It's true," said Yang putting her hands up as Weiss smiled, triumphantly.

Ruby slapped a hand on her knee, "Come on, four out of seven, Weiss!"

Weiss shook her head, "No Ruby, I want to fight Blake, now."

Blake, who had been quietly reading on her bed, looked up, "What? Why me?"

"It'll be fun," said Weiss, simply.

"I think I'll pass," said Blake, looking back at her book.

Ruby got up and presented her scroll to Blake, "Please, Blake. Avenge me?"

Blake looked at Ruby, amused and accepted the scroll, "Ok, Ruby."

Blake took a seat next to Weiss and listened to the heiress explain the controls to her. She picked a ninja with two sickles and they began the fight.

Blake was still learning the controls for the first fight and lost without landing a hit on Weiss.

Eventually, Blake got the hang of the game but lost to Weiss anyway.

"Sorry I can't avenge you, Ruby," said Blake, handing the scroll to Ruby.

"Don't worry, Blake! I will avenge you!" said Ruby.

"You can fight Yang, Ruby. I'm taking a small break from the arena," said Weiss as she handed her scroll to Yang.

"Alrighty, Sis! Get ready to feel the burn!" boasted Yang.

For a couple more hours, the four girls swapped in and out to play. Weiss won almost every game, and Ruby wanted the sweet taste of victory.

"That's it!" said Ruby after losing another battle to Weiss, "I challenge you to a spar, Weiss! Whoever wins gets bragging rights!"

Yang stood up and pointed at her sister, "Oh yeah? Well, I challenge you to a spar, Sis!"

"Why me? I lost to you every time!" said Ruby, throwing her hands up.

Yang had a goofy expression on her face and shrugged.

Weiss stood up from her spot on the ground and adjusted her skirt, "I accept your challenge."

"I don't want to fight two verses one! I'll get my butt kicked!" Ruby whined.

Blake walked over and placed a hand on Ruby's shoulder, "I challenge Yang to a spar," she said.

Yang laughed, "Hey, let's have a duos match. Me and Weiss verses you and Blake."

"That's exactly what I was thinking," said Blake.

Ruby smirked, "Alright team. To the sparring room!"

———————————

Weiss and Yang stood across the arena from their other two teammates. Ruby and Blake held Crescent Rose and Gambol Shroud, respectively, as they waited for the match to start.

Yang smirked as she bashed her knuckles together.

"Ready to lose, nerds?" said the brawler, confidently.

"No!" said Ruby, awkwardly.

The buzzer rang, and the fight began.

Yang propelled herself at Blake, who let a shadow take the hit, while she jumped away.

This left Weiss to handle Ruby.

Weiss formed a glyph under herself and dashed towards the younger girl, sliding under a large swing from her scythe, while slashing at Ruby's aura.

Ruby switched her scythe into its sniper form and began to take potshots at Weiss to keep her from getting too close.

Weiss simply formed a glyph directly in front of Ruby's weapon, rendering her strategy useless.

The heiress got up close and slashed at Ruby, but the smaller girl blocked each strike.

She saw that slashing away at Ruby would be pointless, so she backed up slightly and formed a circle of glyphs around Ruby to use to get behind her.

Before Weiss could utilize her glyphs, Weiss was struck from behind and fell to the floor a few feet away.

Yang had launched Blake in her direction, and Weiss had moved in the way and was struck by her.

Weiss wasted no time getting to her feet. Blake also stood up and shot at the heiress with her pistol.

Weiss deflected the bullets with ease while forming a fire glyph in front of her.

Soon, a plume of fire erupted where Blake had been seconds ago.

While Blake was fleeing from the flame, Weiss saw Ruby and Yang fighting in the distance.

Ruby was using her speed to keep Yang in her range, and the blonde was struggling to close the distance.

Weiss had to think fast when she saw Gambol Shroud fling into her field of view and wrap around her.

Blake pulled, and she was swung into the ground.

Weiss used two glyphs to widen the ribbon that was trapping her, so she could slip out, and was just in time to parry a strike from Blake's sword.

Weiss went to parry, but her blade hit another shadow.

In a split second, Blake was behind her and slashed at her back.

The heiress immediately took to the air with a glyph, so she could get her bearings and watched as Blake went straight for Yang.

"Yang! Behind you!" Weiss shouted as she formed a time dilation glyph at Yang's feet.

Yang spun around and blocked Blake's sneak attack, feeling time slow as the glyph did its job.

Blocking the scythe and sword that were attacking her became a whole lot easier and she held her ground long enough for Weiss to land a few strikes on Ruby.

Ruby focused her attention on Weiss and swung her massive weapon at her, the loud swishes and swooshes that could be heard added to the intimidation of the dangerous weapon.

Weiss dodged under and around each swing and, when the time was right, stuck Myrtenaster in the ground and froze Crescent Rose in place.

Ruby tried to pull the scythe out of its icy casing to no avail. She laughed sheepishly as Weiss smirked and walked past her to help Yang with Blake.

She positioned herself so that Yang could see her and formed a circle of glyphs.

Yang saw this and knew exactly what to do. She waited for Blake to appear near her and grabbed her around the shoulders.

"Got you!" said Yang as she flung Blake into Weiss' trap.

Blake landed on her feet in the circle of glyphs and tried to jump out, but her foot was frozen in place.

Weiss formed another time dilation glyph and jumped between the surrounding glyphs, landing a blow each time.

Yang watched Blake's aura dwindle down as she heard a distinctive click from behind. She turned and saw Ruby lining up a shot at Weiss in an attempt to rescue Blake.

Without thinking, Yang jumped in front of the shot which exploded on impact, sending her flying into the glyphs and knocking Blake over.

Weiss looked at the screen and saw that Yang and Blake were in the red. It was just her and Ruby now.

"Get that win for us, Weiss!" shouted Yang as she and Blake walked off the floor.

Blake was quick to speak up after, "I believe in you, Ruby!"

Weiss circled around Ruby. They were both around halfway through their auras, with Ruby being slightly less than Weiss.

Weiss was waiting for Ruby to make the first move, but the younger girl seemed hesitant.

The heiress finally made a move by forming an ice glyph in front of her and firing a volley of icicles at Ruby.

Ruby made her move and used her semblance to dash at Weiss at blinding speeds.

Weiss saw this coming, using a glyph to get above the speedy girl, and watched her skid to a halt on the other side of the arena.

Weiss saw her chance and formed an ice glyph under Ruby, freezing her feet in place, facing the wall.

Ruby literally had to bend over backward so she could shoot explosive rounds at Weiss.

The cloaked girl was struggling with this, however, and couldn't move when Weiss reached her and slashed at her hands.

Crescent Rose loudly clanked on the floor as Weiss pointed her blade at Ruby.

"Yield," she said triumphantly

Ruby pouted for a moment, "Dang it…" she said.

Weiss smirked and slashed at the ice holding Ruby in place and stowed her blade.

Yang and Blake jogged up to their teammates.

"Nice one, Weiss!" cheered Yang as she gave her a high-five.

Yang looked at Ruby who was still pouting, "Hey, you did awesome too, Little Sis. I could barely keep up with you this time. This training at Beacon is definitely not wasted on you."

Ruby blushed as Blake put her hand on Ruby's back while nodding in agreement, "Aw, you always know what to say, Yang," she said as she squeezed her sister in a hug.

Weiss pulled out her scroll and checked the time, "Wow, guys, it's really late. How long did we play that game?"

Yang put her hands on her hips and smirked at the heiress, "It was well over six hours, Weiss. You spent all that time on a 'stupid video game.'"

Weiss crossed her arms, "I only called them stupid because I didn't know they required skill and higher-level thought to be good at them," she said as she and Blake turned and walked towards the exit.

Ruby waited until Weiss was out of earshot before talking to Yang, "You didn't really lose to Weiss, did you? I mean, there's no way."

Yang shrugged, "I had to get her to try out the game somehow."

"Oh my Oum! You did the same thing to me!" realized Ruby.

"Yup. And it worked just as well on Weiss."

A/N: Fun Fact! This piece is actually a little snippet from a much larger story I wrote called “Project Freezerburn”! I just thought it was perfect for this prompt! Feel free to check out the rest of the story on my AOL or on fanfiction.net. Links to both can be found on my profile!

Or right here!

#freezerburnweek #@freezerburn-week #rwby #freezerburn #weiss schnee #yang xiao long #weiss x yang

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carnal-lnstinct · 4 years

Text

Conton City Lockdown

Summary: Time patrollers have returned from missions carrying an unknown disease and infecting others denizens of Conton City with it, forcing Trunks and Supreme Kai of Time to shut down most operations and training around the City and drastically limit missions for a while until they can get everything under control. Everyone is instructed to stay inside their assigned domiciles until further notice. “Who knows what that could do to the timeline if Patrollers pass it on during a mission?!” Supreme Kai of Time urges Conton. The Conton City Hero has also been quarantined with her current Master, Goku much to both their dismay as there was still so much training left. What other shenanigans can the two saiyans get themselves into while being all cooped up.

Word Count: 2,164 (Chapter 2) AO3 Rating: Mature Warning: ( explicit language ) A/N: Did I yadda yadda some saiyan lore around a story line where anything can happen and be logically possible when time travelling and universe hopping exist on a regular basis? You bet your sweet monkey tail having arse. This one was a little shorter, but the Gitchie, gitchie, ya-ya returns next chapter.

Chapter 2

You're not too keen on traveling to the other world of your own free will just yet. It was barely a pleasant experience travelling to Hell to correct the hitch in the timeline before. Not to mention the Parallel Quests assigned to you to investigate. For a place so colorful and vast...it was Hell. No need to see more of it or anything like it for a while. Your Training Master making the suggestion to travel with him to King Kai's is immediately met with a hard pass. Yes, you had eventually brought out the tracksuit he left behind a while ago as a spare pair of clothing for him. And as predicted he recalled the dead Kai's humble planet. "No one goes there but me, anyways" He pointed out as a matter of fact, "There was no way a dead Kai was going to get sick". As quickly as he could put on the clothes after cleaning up from your passionate moments, he bid you farewell for now and was gone. Leaving you with just the phantom traces of his rough hands abusing your skin and sloppy kisses all over your face and neck. It had only been hours following the powerful experience and you couldn't believe how much you missed his presence already. It would go against your nature to have begged him to stay simply because you wanted to stay close to him a little longer. Maybe the time separated was needed to give you some time to think it over. Goku was your Trainer, after all. Not only yours, either. But he had always praised you as his star pupil. Never have you felt selfish of another person before and blamed it all on still being caught up in the heat of the moment.

As the time passed on and the new day surely came to its expected end, right as you were ready to accept that you were going to be here alone for a while, Goku's energy instantly fills the space and he reappears in front of you. His skin sweaty and tracksuit filthy from his work out, but with that delighted smile of his. Your heart fluttered, not expecting him to return so soon. In his hand was a bundle of boxed food made by the North Kai. What you assumed was some portion of food he saved for himself for later was brought specifically for you. Without warning, you climbed the larger Saiyan with a single leap when he said it, crashing your mouth onto his and practically mounted him right then, his sore muscles and all. Nothing sharing the lunch he brought afterwards didn't fix.

The few days following Goku's awakening into this "new hobby" has been a very informative bonding experience for the two of you. And now you were sure he was trying to kill you with it. Of course, you bring it on yourself having to be the initiator, the latter still not quite able to pick up on your cues or innuendos to jump start a good time. You'd make it clear to him in your frustration after you toss playing coy out the window and spell it out to him. That aggressive tone you embody that would put off anyone else yet it only seemed to make the Saiyan feel embarrassed for his short-comings in the whole thing, but thrilled for the shared pleasure. Goku's gentleness in his approach to it sometimes leaves you somewhat unsatisfied, not that he never made up for in the long run, and boy does he, but he was never just right when you needed him to be.

Granted, your wild fantasy stems from the raunchy mangas you have filled your spare time with, you know the Earthly Saiyan has it in him. He just missuses it. When you want him to challenge your forwardness and press his hard, trained body against yours, squeeze your smaller frame to fit to his and stare you down with his feral eyes, he's tenderly rubbing into the curves of your back and tail, and placing these little warm kisses into your face and neck. But when you want to take it slower after being driven into at different angles and your body aches from the constant stimulation, he does not relent nor does your burning saiyan blood and sex-drunk mind carry the sense to yield even when the azure color fills his eyes and the golden hue vibrates across the outline of his body threatening to revitalize him for another go. You just wanted to see that savage vigor from beginning to end, and then the gentleness can follow.

It was the closest thing the two of you had to training together these days, a challenge of endurance and control. Still, not a day went by you weren't longing for Supreme Kai of Time or the Elder Kai to summon you back to the Time Nest for another special mission. With all the going on of the disease and that creep Fu on the loose as well, work was going to be non-stop to catch up when it was finally okay to head out again and you were looking forward to scratching that fighting itch once more. The worry settling in your bones and the daily complaint of your "cell mate" begging for the same release were beginning to make you stir-crazy. You had to distract him for your sake and his. One more 'It's already been "so-and-so" days, when's it gonna be over?' and you were going to put him through a wall.

Being saiyans on opposite ends of the spectrum did well to draw attention away from the quarantine, as well. You found yourself more intrigued with this version's history that lead him to the man he is today. You know the basics, all the scouted Time Patrollers do, but this variant of the Z Warrior lead a life not too similar with the story and still comes out more powerful than ever. You pressed him for answers, idle chat through the "parrying" game you came up with to keep your focus sharp. Goku sits in front of you with both his hands held up as you try to punch your fists pass them. There was no concern you would land anything. The way he misdirects your fists with hardly a flinch in his posture was pure instinct. As you sat across from him, fists up as you try to think 3 steps ahead and contemplate which one to throw at him, you finally asked.

"What's it like? Living with Earthlings? " Hoping your sudden question would give you the opening you need, throwing a right hook only to be swatted to his right. You recoil back into your stance, continuing. "I didn't grow up on Planet Vegeta either, but I was still raised around other saiyans."

"Really? I thought all of you were coming from another Planet Vegeta in the time-space holes you guys are always working on. I'd love to see what kind of strong warriors you got there, especially if they're as strong as you!" Another success block as you come at him from the right again. "As for Earth, it's pretty amazing! We don't have many saiyans, but we got a pretty strong batch of fighters. If not for guys like Piccolo, Raditz or Vegeta, we would never know how much stronger we could become. But when we're not fighting to get stronger and everything's at peace, it can be pretty beautiful. A little too quiet for me, but I wouldn't want to have it any other way so long as I can always get a good fight in every once in a while. Not to mention all the awesome food!"

Agreed, Earth definitely had some of the best food you ever had in your whole life and was grateful for its abundance here in Conton City. There was so much flavor, and the different consistencies all coming together to make something you couldn't hardly put it into words. It made your mouth water just thinking about it. "What about you, (y/n)?" The Saiyan asks.

"In my timeline, I grew up on Planet Stock. A sub colony of Saiyans our King Vegeta colonized in secret from King Cold as a gift to the Young Prince who would one day rise as a formidable foe to that tyrant Cold and his heirs. Then he would rule over Stock as his own kingdom while Planet Vegeta acted as our hub world. Or... at least that was the plan. One day our planet suddenly stopped getting responses from Planet Vegeta, not even the best scouters could detect it anywhere. Like it disappeared. It was only after I became a Time Patroller I found out Frieza destroyed it." Your fists visibly clench tighter as you opt for a left punch this time. Rather than parrying it this time, Goku catches it in his hand.

"Frieza always prides himself on that. I'm sorry." Your Master offers looking down at you with a softer gaze. You look up from your focal point to see his stare and look away.

"It doesn't matter. Knowing what I know now, even if Planet Vegeta and Stock had hundreds and hundreds of our best warriors there to defend against Frieza's attack, we would be worse for it. I've seen it.. " You withdraw your fist from his hold and roll your shoulders. "And Lord Beerus will destroy us all for it." You lower your stance and release your tensed hands. It's not easy to think that letting one monster destroy the home world of your people was better than the God of Destruction wiping out both worlds. Besides, the scroll of time deemed it the most accurate that Frieza gets to do it. You're still pushing against the Elder Kai and Supreme Kai of Time to use the Dragon Balls to restore Planet Vegeta.

"It's never easy to make decisions like that. There's not a moment I don't think back on the times when I was at my limit and felt like I was gambling with the lives of my friends and the people of earth in order to win a fight. But I always find a way to push through and save everyone. I even thought letting Cell blow me up would spare everyone. " He laughs, but it sounded a little more morose than his usual joy, making you turn your gaze back towards him. "I was foolish, when I had fought Cell we were evenly matched until I used my Kaioken attack and managed to knock Android 18 of him. I gave him a chance to give up and leave the planet and instead I put everyone else in danger.. I even thought if I stayed in the Other World, Earth would be a better place. We still had Piccolo to keep an eye on everything, and Vegeta too. Oh, and Trunks, too! He was going to grow up someday and be a strong warrior just like his father. Everyone else could live the life they wanted."

Goku extends his large hand and cups your small cheek into its curve, you leaning into the warm touch, "Your heart's in the right place. I see why everyone puts so much faith in you to do your best." His smile grows and your cheeks glisten with a pink hue. You avert your eyes as your insides flutter up again to avoid his knowing eyes.

"--W-Whatever, don't go getting all sentimental on me." You shrug trying to fight off your own smile. You raise your fist and give him a playfully nudge on his chin. "See, you're leaving yourself wide open. Keep this up and I'll surpass you in no time." Goku's bright laughter comes full force and he takes your first in his hand again.

"So long as you keep training, I'm sure you will." He brushes your fist pass his lips and delicately places a kiss to your battle-hardened knuckles. "I'll be sure to get stronger, too."

That sounded romantic coming from him, the blush on your face spreading but you keep trying to play it off. A little soft touch...actually does a lot to you. Your chest and your belly are bouncing such a warmth back and forth but it's different from wanting him to pin you down with all his strength and bury himself to the hilt inside you. Just his hand on your cheek and wrapped around your fingers as his lips caressed them was so...fulfilling. Even his laugh, once this goofy sound to your ears was now a blissful tone to your very soul. The Savior of Earth, this immortalized hero across the timelines made you feel like you were blooming. The sensation was only shaken by the sudden growl of his stomach, prompting him to laugh nervously "Whoops, guess I'm hungry again."

You laugh too and shake your head. "Fine, but dishes are on you this time."

#goku x reader #goku imagine #goku dbz #goku dbs #xenoverse 2 #dragon ball z #dragon ball super #my writing

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visionmarred-archive · 5 years

Text

*Monty Python guy voice* and now for something completely different

pairing(s): Visas/F!Exile, hinted Atton/F!Exile

---

When Visas first felt the Exile in the Force, she wondered if her heart had stopped beating.

The woman’s voice is soft, caring. There is a gentleness to it that Visas has not known since the death of her mother and sisters on Katarr, since the loss of all life on the planet and all of life that she had known until that moment.

But what further intrigued her was the sense of emptiness behind that gentle voice. It was a wound, echoing from within - it spoke of loss and pain on a level that should not, could not, be survived. Yet the Exile had survived it, and carried the pain with her still.

In that moment, Visas empathized with her, this strange woman that she did not know of until then. And she longed for her, longed to meet and see the one who could survive the pain that she had and still have the determination to move forward.

It was with dread sitting heavy in her heart that she prepared for her trip to meet the Exile. Though her master was less of a man and more of a gaping hole in the Force, he understood that if left unchallenged, this Exile could be his downfall. He wanted her destroyed, and once more, Visas was to be the instrument of death where Nihilus could not be bothered.

The Exile’s death would be swift and clean. Visas could grant her this much, at least.

---

She feels the approach of the Exile before she hears the woman enter the room.

“What have you done to the crew?” Her voice, so gentle when Visas had heard it before, now spoke with quiet determination.

She operated quickly, quietly, in order to incapacitate each of the crew before they could raise an alarm. The man in the medical bay hadn’t even an inkling of her presence before knocked unconscious, as did the mechanic and the woman in the cargo hold, while the pilot had realized she was there… admittedly a second too late to properly fight back. She places their sleeping forms in the same room that she found the old woman in - she had unnerved Visas, yet she had gone down all the same. A part of her wondered if maybe the old woman had merely allowed it.

Visas tells her none of this, and ignites her lightsaber.

During their duel, it is apparent that combat itself isn’t quite the Exile’s strong point - her attacks, while of a proper form, are weak in their blows, and easily pushed back by Visas’s parries. She has the Exile on the defensive, and it is there where she realizes what the other woman’s strength is.

Every time her lightsaber strikes true, there is a barrier there. Resistance to energy, she realizes quickly, and she continues to strike all the same. Her blows land and she knows she is wounding the Exile, yet she is a skilled healer and her pains mend swiftly.

When Visas begins to tire and her blows weaken, that is when the Exile strikes her lucky blow. She feels her lightsaber fly backwards from her hands, courtesy of a skilled wave of the Force, and pain rings throughout the Miraluka’s body.

“My lightsaber… you have destroyed it.”

Visas fell to her knees before the Exile, biting her tongue to hold back a heavy gasp. “I yield… master. It is as I heard through the Force. My life… for yours.”

“I will not kill you,” the Exile replies quietly.

“You must.” Visas’s hand moves to her stomach, clutching the bleeding flesh where the Exile’s staff had made contact. “The only alternative is another death, and I would rather die by your hands.”

She barely knows this woman, yet she feels, knows, that a death from her would be gentler than one at her master’s hands.

“Look, you’re wounded.” Visas hears the Exile’s staff fall to the floor, and feels her hands rest on her shoulders. “Stand, let me get you to the medical bay.”

She speaks with the same gentleness that Visas had heard in her meditation chambers, that same warmth. And Visas cannot understand it.

“I… I have nothing to offer you. Your strength is superior… it is as I felt.”

Then her pain catches up to her, and Visas finds herself falling right into the Exile’s arms.

---

She is not alone when she awakens.

The pilot is slouched in the chair beside the bed. Through the Force, Visas can sense his aura - like the string of an instrument, it was tense, and as though he were holding himself back from something. It does not take one gifted with Force sensitivity to guess what that might be.

“Well, looks like our little stowaway’s awake.” The man drawls. His voice sounded a mixture of cocky and disinterested, a far cry from the tension that Visas could still feel from him.

“The Exile. Where is she?” Visas asks, sitting upright - then regretting it immediately, as a fresh wave of pain washed over her.

“She’s off fixing up everybody you knocked around. I haven’t forgotten about that, by the way. I don’t get why she hasn’t kicked you out the airlock yet.”

His hostility was admittedly deserved, yet Visas refused to comment on it. “Why did she spare my life?”

“Pfft. How should I know? She insists on doing the nice thing, even if it’s stupid. She asked me to let her know when you woke up, by the way.”

He stood up as he spoke again, and Visas could feel his aura, a barely bridled fury.

“Let me get one thing clear. If you do anything to try and hurt her again, she’s not gonna have the chance to patch you up a second time. Got it?”

Through the Force, the source of his protectiveness was known to Visas, and she understood completely.

“My life is hers,” She responded quietly. “You have no reason to believe me, but I will not hurt her again.”

“You’d better not,” the pilot replied quietly. If he was going to speak again, the arrival of another presence interrupted him before he could.

“Thank you for the signal, Atton. Could I be alone with her, please?” The Exile.

He must have sent her a message, Visas realized.

“Yeah, I’ll let you two have your privacy.” The pilot - Atton - replied, his footsteps making towards the door. “Be careful. Shout if you need me, okay?”

“Of course,” The Exile replied, and then Atton was gone.

She turned her attention towards Visas, sitting in the same chair that Atton had occupied a moment ago. “I have not had time to look at your wounds yet - merely some healing through the Force. I’m so sorry, I hope you’re not in too much pain.”

Her tone, so gentle and caring. It was not something that Visas had heard in a long time.

“May I look at your wounds? I want to help you, if I can.”

Unable to find the words to speak, Visas merely nodded once, curtly.

“Thank you. Please, tell me if I make you uncomfortable, and I’ll stop right away, but I’ll need you to remove your shirt in order to treat you.”

Visas sat upright further; the pain struck her once again, and though she didn’t speak a word, the Exile clearly noticed.

“Here, let me help you!”

Her hand came forward to rest on Visas’s shoulder, and she instantly felt some of the pain lift away. Most, but not all.

“I hope that helps. I’ll relieve you of it all as soon as I’m finished treating you. I’m so sorry - it must sound cruel, but a little bit will help me determine the best treatment for you.” The Exile’s tone and aura in the Force were both genuinely apologetic, and they both helped Visas to find her words again.

“I attempted to kill you,” She said quietly, shrugging out of her shirt. “Why do you waste your medicine on me? I do not understand.”

“Waste?” The Exile said. “I don’t see how it’s a waste to help you. I want to help you - I don’t care that you tried to kill me.”

“How can you not care?” Visas asked. “Are attacks on your life so commonplace that it’s easy to be indifferent?”

“You’re not far off, actually!” The Exile giggled, and Visas’s heart began to pound in her chest at the sound.

She remembers the longing she felt for the other woman when she first heard her, and it returns two-fold at the sound of her laugh. It was beautiful, like a melody.

“But, to answer your question… I do not believe in killing someone who has surrendered.” There is something stiff in the way the Exile says those words, but something tells Visas that it’s not her place to know why, if it was even truly there. “And I… well, there’s something about you, I suppose. But I do not wish you harm.”

“I… I see.” Visas replied, even though she couldn’t truly understand. Everything about the Exile was a far cry from what she had grown to expect since Nihilus had plucked her from the ashes of Katarr’s surface, when he had forced her to see the galaxy.

“My name is Sky. What’s yours?” She asked, kindness still present in her voice.

“I… you may call me Visas. Visas Marr.” There is something foreign in saying her name once more for the first time in a long time, and immediately, thoughts of her sisters and mother rush to her mind. No. Do not think of them again.

“It’s good to meet, you, Visas. Please, let me know where it hurts, and I’ll do my best to help you.”

She almost smiled at Sky’s words. It had been so long since she felt that she could truly trust the words that passed from another’s lips, and longer still since she had felt a gentle touch. If the Exile would allow it, Visas would gladly serve her, atone for the attempt on her life.

My life… for yours. My life is yours.

#Sierra writes #Visas Marr #Visas x Exile #OTP: More Than My Life #because fandom needs more Exile/Visas fic so here we are #OC: Skysargas #putting this in main tags since I feel bold #...and since it's briefly alluded to and I 100% was going for it:#OTP: Thought You Were a Dream #OT3: Love Her and Despair

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bazypitchandsimonsnow · 5 years

Text

The Black Swan

Chapter 9

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word count: 7268

Chapter: 9/17 (All chapters)

Summary: Baz and Simon deal with the aftermath of the festival. And Simon makes a shocking discovery.

Read on AO3

AN: This chapter is a bit weird but bare with me, alright? Hope you guys like it!

———————————————

Simon tried to write it down himself, to pay attention, but his mind wandered as always. He despised his governance studies, and the private lessons with David were particularly tortuous. So his quill kept drifting to the margins of his parchment. His doodles started off as random lines, but quickly they formed the vague shape of a mouth. A thin mouth, with shiny teeth and a secret smile, who’s possible taste Simon was still thinking about days later.

“Simon!” David barked, making the prince jolt so hard his knees banged sourly against the desk. “Pay attention! This is your future we’re learning about.”

Simon sunk into his chair, fidgeting with his feathered quill. “I know, Father.”

“How do you expect to be a king if you won’t even learn diplomacy?”

I never asked to be king, Simon wanted to yell. But he knew yelling at his adoptive father got him nowhere. So he simply shrugged. David shook his head.

“Look,” the king sighed, “I know diplomacy isn’t as exciting as magic or sword fighting. But it’s necessary for when you take the throne. You need to know how to rule strongly, so you can handle Watford when I’m gone.”

“But you’re not going anywhere anytime soon. I don’t have to worry, right?”

David shook his head even more. He walked up and put his hands on Simon’s desk, looming over his heir like a very perturbed statue. “Don’t be naive, Simon. There are enemies everywhere for a king. I could be killed after I walk out of this room! You have to be ready for my death at all times, or you will be caught off guard and Watford will be left without a strong ruler, as well as someone to carry on my legacy. You’ll have to tell the same to your’s and Lady Wellbelove’s children. Every king has to.”

“Great pep talk, Davy,” Simon murmured.

“What was that?” David glared even harder.

Simon sank further into his chair. “Nothing, Father. I’ll pay attention now.”

“You should have been paying attention from the start, but very well.” He went back to the board. He tapped his wand under “STRENGTH” once more “This is the most important trait when negotiating. Strength is what everyone respects universally, no matter what you say.”

Simon underlined “strength” three times on the parchment. He listened and listened, and tried to figure out how much of it he actually believed. David was a good king. He must know what he was talking about. But it didn’t sit well with Simon, not all of it. Being strong, a wall, listening to no one and barreling through. It had worked for him. Simon thought it was better to be cautious and ask others, but David didn’t. But...

“Don’t try to be like David, Si. Be like you.”

Simon didn’t know what he wanted to be like. All he knew was that he really didn’t want to be here right now. He wanted to be back at the festival, eating sweets, dancing his heart out, kissing a strange boy before the sun came up.

“Now, you better start packing, we’ll be off first tomorrow morning.”

Simon’s head bolted up. “Wait what? Are we going somewhere?”

David sighed and shook his head. “Yes, Simon. We’re going to the west. There have rumblings of rebellion from the region, but an appearance by the king and crown prince will put those to rest. I already told you about this.”

“N-No you didn’t!”

“Yes,” he growled. “I did. You probably just weren’t paying attention.”

Simon curled in on himself, picking at his nails. “I-I guess. How long are we going to be there?”

“As long as we have to be. What, do you have somewhere else you need to be?”

The way David asked the question suggested there was only one answer, no matter what the truth was. Simon let his head fall, staring at his lap and shaking hands. “No, Father.”

David made an approving sound. “Good. Make sure you’re well packed and ready to ride. You’re dismissed for today.”

Simon stood up and nodded. “Thank you, Father.”

He walked out of the room with his head still down. He kept walking through the halls, trying to keep his composure. And the second he was in his room, Simon grabbed his sword and started battling the air. Simon channeled all his fury into every slash and stab into nothing. He did that until his arm was sore, then let it fall. The tip of his sword made the tiniest clink on the stone floor. It was loud in the room, save for Simon’s harsh breathing.

Simon didn’t want to go to the west. He didn’t want to not see Baz for ages. Just the thought of it made his heart ache. But he was going to have to go. And he’d have to tell Baz. That made the ache even worse.

———————————————

“Hey.”

Simon turned around. Baz was already standing there, hands behind his back, small smile tugging at his lips. Those lips that Simon hadn’t stopped thinking about for days. His stomach fluttered. He couldn’t help but smile himself.

“Hey,” he said. “How are you?”

“Better.” He tapped his bruise, which had faded to a much smaller purple stain. “This thing is almost gone, thankfully.”

“That’s good. Glad to hear it.”

Baz nodded then quickly looked at the ground, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear. Simon gulped, because he was very sure Baz’s cheeks were red. It was still hard to see the colour on him, sure, but it was almost certainly there. Simon didn’t know what to do. Grab his hand? Tell him about his trip? Kiss him to make up for what they missed out on? But it wasn’t that night anymore. The high was gone. Simon was nervous beyond belief. He had no idea what to do. And from the look on Baz’s face, neither did he.

Maybe the only thing to do was to do what was normal.

He dropped his bag and quickly scooped up a long stick. “Wanna duel? I’m feeling confident about winning tonight.”

Baz’s brow furrowed for a moment. But when Simon poked Baz’s chest, the other boy sighed, picked up his own stick, and crossed their swords. “Very well. As long as you’re prepared to lose.”

Simon grinned, and made the first jab. Baz parried him with practiced ease. They fell into their usual rhythm. Slashing, blocking, giving ground then snatching it back. But right now, the steps reminded Simon far too much of their dancing. His mind kept going back to the last time they moved liked this, spinning and flying across the ground like it was as natural as breathing. When Baz’s arm was tight around his waist, when they had been so close and so happy. Simon wanted all that again, not sparring. So his slashes were weak, he barely blocked, and he gave far more ground than usual.

It took him a few minutes, but Simon realised Baz wasn’t trying that hard either. The other’s boys sword work was just as lackluster. Neither of them wanted this. So Simon lowered his sword, and Baz quickly followed. They stared at each other. It was clear both were unsure what to do.

“So,” Baz said slowly. “Want to talk?”

Simon nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

They both tossed their sticks to the side. Instead of walking to the lake, Baz walked to his cottage. Simon followed behind. They sat down with backs against the wall. And Simon couldn’t help but notice how closer they were. One wrong (or right) move, and he’d be holding Baz’s hand again. He wouldn’t mind though. He wouldn’t mind one bit.

“How are you?” Simon asked. It was a simple question on the surface, but so much bubbled under the surface. They hadn’t talked since the festival. Simon had no idea how Baz felt after what happened after they dashed through the woods, after their almost kiss.

Baz seemed to know the meaning. He took in a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. “I’m alright. It was a bit scary, I won’t lie. But I’m okay now.”

Simon wasn’t fully convinced. He shuffled a minuscule amount closer, cautiously brushing his fingers over the back of Baz’s hand. Baz barley reacted, except with maybe some more colour in his cheeks. “Are you sure? You can tell me.”

Baz sighed again. “I really am, Simon, don’t worry. Even if it had a rough end, I had a really fun night. Thank you for it.”

Simon’s pulse fluttered. He felt so proud and so unsure how to cope with it. He wasn’t used to being thanked. “Y-You’re welcome then, I guess. I’m glad you had fun, I did too.”

“We should, um,” Baz looked away, obviously embarrassed, “maybe...do something like that again soon. I think you’re right, I do need to get out of here more. Maybe we can go explore without the excuse of the festival.”

Simon’s eyes went wide. His mind was racing, thinking of all the things him and Baz could do together outside of this lake. Go town late at night, climb a hill, just run as fast as their feet could take them. It was exhilarating. But...there was David....

“Y-yeah,” he replied. “That’d be great. But...” Baz’s face fell. Simon’s heart broke instantly. He put his other hand over Baz’s squeezing firmly. “No, no no, I’m not saying no. I want to go and do that, most definitely. But it just might not be for a bit.” Baz’s brow furrowed. “My guardian, he’s taking me on a trip out west. So I’m going to be gone for awhile.”

Baz’s face fell again, but in a different way. Not heartbroken, just plain old sad. He was sad that Simon wouldn’t be around. It made something both soar and shatter in Simon all at once. He didn’t want Baz to feel anything bad, but a small part of him was strangely happy that Baz could be sad over him. Baz looked down at their hands, then flipped his over, fingers curling around one of Simon’s.

“When do you leave?” he asked softly.

Simon swallowed, staring at their hands. “Tomorrow morning.”

Baz’s shoulders slumped. “And how long will you be gone?”

“I don’t know. My guardian won’t say. At least a week, probably longer.”

“I see.”

Baz’s voice was even, but his hand was so tight. He couldn’t hide his feelings from Simon at this point. And it made Simon feel horrible. So he reached behind himself and grabbed his bag. He rummaged around for a moment, then pulled out what he had brought from his room before he snuck out.

“Here,” he said. “to keep you company while I’m gone.”

It was a large book with a red leather cover. It was an analysis of the interaction between societal norms and economic policies by Natasha Grimm-Pitch. Simon wanted to doze off every time he looked at it. But he knew Baz would love it. And he was right, considering how Baz’s mouth fell open and his eyes went very wide. He balanced the book on his knees, tracing the gold letters.

“This is incredible,” Baz whispered. “Where did you find this?”

“My friend gave it to me awhile ago. I hate reading stuff like it, but I thought you’d appreciate it more than me.”

Baz chuckled, the sound low and amused. “You assumed correctly. I’ll enjoy it greatly.” He looked at Simon again, smile crinkling the corners of his eyes, cheeks certainly red. “Thank you, Simon.”

Simon grinned back. His heart fluttered again. By all the Gods, he wanted to kiss that beautiful smile on Baz’s face. He could feel his face heating up at just the thought of it. But he was leaving. He didn’t want to kiss Baz then leave him alone for possibly weeks. Baz deserved better than that.

“You’re welcome, Baz,” he said. He was the one who shifted their hands this time, weaving their fingers together. Baz clutched him tight. “You won’t have to read it for long though. I’ll be back. I promise, Baz, I’ll come back.”

Baz didn’t stop smiling, but his eyes were more than just happy. They were kind, understanding. There was so much contained in the deep sea galaxy of his gaze. And Simon never wanted to look away.

“I’m not worried,” he said quietly. “I know you’ll come back, Simon.”

Simon’s mouth became dry. His heartbeat was thundering in his ears. He tried to memorised the gorgeous look on Baz’s face. That image in his mind would be the only thing to help him get him through the upcoming tortuous journey.

“And I always will,” he replied.

That was a promise he didn’t plan on breaking.

———————————————

The trip itself wasn’t too bad. It only took a day and a half with a stay at lower lord’s house overnight. Simon rode in his own carriage and slept most of the way. It was nice to not have David nagging him the entire time. He’d almost call it peaceful, if his dreams weren’t filled with his recurring nightmares and the occasional flash of Baz’s face.

But once they reached the edge of Canterbury, the capital of the western province, everything got so much worse. David made Simon ride next to him on horse. Simon hated horseback riding. Saddles were uncomfortable, horses didn’t listen to him, and it was all made so much worse by his itchy prince clothes.

“Why do I have to wear this?” Simon asked, voice dangerously close to a whine. “They’re not good for riding.”

“Because we need to make an impression, Simon,” David said with his nose in the air. “We need to remind them that we are their sovereign rulers, and disobedience won’t be tolerated.”

Something about made Simon flinch. He remembered the matron’s words. Listen to me, Simon, she would yell, and do what I say. Simon thought those kind of strict orders went away when you grew up. But maybe the orders just started to come from someone higher up and further away. That was kind of what a king was supposed to do. Simon didn’t want to do that. He didn’t even want to be a hero right now. He just wanted to see Baz again. Yet here he was, wearing his embroidered green tunic and golden circlet, and absolutely loathing every minute of it.

The royal procession walked through the main thoroughfare. Simon had to work very hard to keep his horse in line. He did his best to wave politely to the crowd anyway, while David did the same and kept his stern composure. The streets were reasonably filled with people, but there was no cheering. They merely clapped politely. And when Simon looked at their gaunt faces, none of them were smiling. Most of them were blank, void of any emotion, and a few even looked angry. What disturbed Simon the most was that some of their expressions reminded him of Baz. So many had a distant sadness sitting in their eyes. Simon’s heart felt tight.

They arrived at the manor, where they were greeted by Lord and Lady Stainton and their daughter Philippa. Philippa went to school with Simon and roomed with Agatha. They weren’t super close but they spoke a few times. Simon always suspected she had affection for him. He was nervous to see her again. But when he dismounted and stood in front of her, Philippa was nothing but courteous. She followed her parents, curtsying and bowing her head low.

“Welcome to Canterbury, your majesty and your highness,” Lord Stainton said. “We are honoured to have you in our home.”

“As you should,” David replied curtly.

Lord Stainton seemed a bit thrown off by that response. He cleared his throat and straightened even more. “Of course. We’ll have the servants bring your bags to your quarters. Would you like to see the most recent reports?”

“Of course. Simon, come along.”

Simon followed a distance behind the actual adults. Philippa was beside him, hands linked in front of her skirt politely. He leaned a closer to her.

“It’s good to see you too, Lady Stainton,” he whispered. “How are you?”

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, your highness,” she replied. “I’m well. Thank you for asking.”

Simon wanted to ask more, ask her what she’s been doing since school. But they entered the conference room, and David gave Simon a look that said, “come here now.” Simon scurried forward to stand at his father’s side. They took the head seats that were supposed to be for the Lord and Lady. But the King always got the best seat no matter where he was. Lord Stainton took a moment to look down at Simon sitting in his seat, then spread out a large map on the oak conference table. It showed the western province with a few red marks.

“There have been problems here, here, and here,” Lord Stainton said. He kept speaking of uprisings, of who the leaders were, how they were handling it. Simon listened as best as he could. The biggest thing he noticed was that Lord Stainton never mentioned the reason for these uprisings.

“I see,” David said thoughtfully, stroking his mustache. “We’ll go to these towns and you’ll voice your support for me. I’ll speak well enough to quash these rebellions. Prince Simon will stay here to keep a presence in the capital. Understood?”

“Understood, your majesty,” Lord and Lady Stainton said simultaneously. Simon had to hold back a groan. So they came all this way so Simon could sit around in a different annoyingly large building, one far enough away that he couldn’t sneak out to see Baz or Penny. If there was a Hell, Simon was sure he was living in it.

“Good. The Crown Prince and I shall rest before dinner.”

“Of course,” Lord Stainton said. “Rest well, your majesty.”

“We will.” He stood up and beckoned with his hand. “Come, Simon.”

Simon nodded and stood. “T-Thank you for the rooms, Lord and Lady Stainton,” he said as confidently as he could.

The three nobles smiled kind and bowed their heads. “You’re welcome, your highness” Lady Stainton said weirdly cautiously.

Simon smiled back. But as they walked away to their quarters, Simon felt David’s hand grab the back of his jacket. Simon yelped and choked slightly. He looked up at David. The king glared at him with unmasked fury.

“Do not speak out of turn,” he growled. "Understood?"

Simon gulped. His palms were suddenly sweaty. He nodded. “Y-Y-Yes, sir.”

David let go. His mask returned. “Good. Go to your quarters.”

“Yes, Father.”

Simon took the smaller room while David entered the larger one. Simon breathed a sigh of relief the second the door was closed. David didn’t hit him, sure, but he never had to. He was intimidating enough without leaving a mark.

Simon’s brass trunk sat in the middle of the room with his rucksack on top. He wished he knew which servants brought it up. The trunk was very heavy, he wanted to at least thank them, maybe even give them a few coins. He’d try to find them later. First of all, he opened up his travel bag, and pulled out his leather bound sketch book. Simon flopped down on the large page as he flipped through the pages, and he soon landed on his destination. He stared at his latest sketch of Baz for far too long. He hovered over the drawing, tracing the drawing’s features with a hovering finger. His dark wavy hair, his pretty eyes, his barely there smile. Simon missed Baz like he would miss the sun if it went out. And he’d definitely be counting the days until he saw him again.

———————————————

The Canterbury Manor wasn’t that bad, really. It wasn’t as big as Watford Castle, but it was still sizable, and everyone was nice. Lady Stainton was a good host. She made pleasant conversation with Simon at meals, despite her obvious discomfort with him. Simon was used to it. She didn’t look down on him with contempt like her husband, but obviously didn’t know exactly how to act around the common born prince, especially when David wasn’t around. Philippa was nice too, but she had private tutoring that took most of her time as well. He tried to talk to servants, but they were all too intimidated by his presence to hold any sort of conversation.

So Simon spent his days mostly alone, switching between wandering, sketching, and practicing his sword work at the training ground. He tried to work on some new things to show Baz when he got back. But his heart wasn’t in it. His heart felt far away, left behind in Watford, in that hidden lake. It was a foreign feeling for Simon, and no matter how much it hurt, he didn’t want it to go away. He wanted anything that reminded him of Baz.

He was practicing a new blocking technique when the door opened and he stopped. His eyes met Philippa’s, and she jolted back.

“Oh, hello, your highness,” she said nervously. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were here. I’ll go-”

“No!” Simon called out. Philippa turned back around, looking very shocked. “Uh, you don’t have to go. It’s your grounds, and you’re here to practice, right?”

It was a fair assumption. Philippa was wearing a loose tunic and trousers, something uncommon for women in Watford, unfortunately. (Penny was constantly railing against that.) Philippa looked down, hands clasped in front of her. “Yes, but you may have the ground, your highness.”

Simon sighed. He sheathed his sword and stepped towards her, though still a respectable distance away. “Philippa, look up,” he said. She raised her eyes but not her head. “You don’t have to do that. King David isn’t here, no one is. You won’t get in trouble. We’ve known each other for years. You were Agatha’s bloody roommate. We didn’t talk a lot, sure, but I saw you all the time. You don’t have to treat me like I’m someone super important.”

“But,” she said with genuine confusion, “you’re the crown prince.”

Simon shrugged, rubbing his upper arm. “I prefer just Simon, honestly.”

Philippa finally raised her head. She looked incredibly nervous. Simon grinned as brightly as he could, and Philippa’s body visibly relaxed as she smiled back. And Simon felt a lot better.

“So what do you practice with?” Simon asked.

“Uh, longsword mostly,” she replied. “I started back at Mage’s School and I enjoyed it.”

Simon’s brow furrowed. “I thought girls weren’t supposed to learn swords at School.” (Another thing Penny railed against a lot.)

“We’re not, but I started learning from some of my male friends in secret in sixth year. I’ve tried to keep up the work ever since.”

“That’s pretty awesome.”

Philippa smiled more. “Thanks.” She shuffled her feet, rubbing a hand on her neck. “Y’know I...I heard you were really good at swords. An arrogant part of me always wanted to, um, see how good you were.”

Simon shrugged. “Well, I don’t think I’m that good. But we can duel, if you want.”

Philippa’s eyes went very wide. Her mouth fell open. “Really?”

“Yeah, sure. I’m always looking for new competition.”

Philippa chuckled. “I don’t know about that, but if you’re offering I’ll go for it.” She walked over to the armory rack and snatched two wooden practice swords. “Let’s use wood though. I don’t want to accidentally stab the heir to the throne.”

Simon laughed as he tossed his sheath off. “Yeah, that’s probably smart.”

He held out his hand. Philippa hesitated for a second, then tossed the sword to him like an old sparring partner. He caught it and walked to the centre of the ring. Philippa followed, swinging her sword back and forth with all the confidence of a pro. They faced each other equidistant apart. Simon got into his fighting stance, both hands on his hilt, feet lining up with his rolled back shoulders. Philippa did something similar.

“I hope you don’t go easy on me,” she said. “I like a challenge.”

Simon smirked, like how Baz did before their matches. “Don’t worry. So do I.”

They nodded once, and then they began.

Simon striked first, a downward slash, which Philippa blocked easily. He tried again, she blocked again. But she didn’t give ground. She held firm and Simon couldn’t move her. Philippa finally struck. She swung to the side. It wasn’t that strong, and Simon blocked, but the odd angle she used forced him to step back, foot digging into the sawdust. Philippa took the advantage, pushing forward. Simon was impressed. He quickly noticed her fighting style. What she lacked in strength she made up for in speed and technique. She was quick, precise, technical. She was a lot like Baz even though she wasn’t as as strong. And Simon knew how to fight Baz.

He pushed back at Philippa with a sizable amount of force, making her stumble. Simon didn’t give her a chance to think. He kept striking, throwing her off the rhythm, pushing forward until she had to give ground. Her strikes became frantic, technique abandoned. One of her swings faltered badly, and Simon took the opportunity. He stuck his sword underneath her’s, spun around, and sent her wooden blade flying out of the ring like the world’s strangest bird. Simon didn’t point his sword at her. It felt too bragging. Philippa was out of breath, but looked strangely pleased.

“Well,” she chuckled, “I can see now why people said you were good.”

Simon chuckled as well, planting the sword in the ground. “Thanks. You’re amazing too.”

She smiled brightly, a bit of flush on her cheeks. Simon inhaled sharply. She reminded him of Baz the night before he left. He liked seeing that on Baz, but not on Philippa. He got nervous seeing it on Philippa.

“So, uh, do you just like swords or do you plan to fight a war?” Simon said jokingly, trying to alleviate the mood. But Philippa’s suddenly became very serious, her body and mouth a thin straight line. She walked out of the ring to pick up her sword. Simon followed behind her. Philippa put away the sword almost angrily, rattling all the other weapons.

“Um,” Simon said slowly, “did I say something bad? I’m sorry. I’m still bad at speaking.”

Philippa sighed. “Your hi- Simon, how much do you know about King David’s policies?”

Simon shuffled his feet. “N-Not as much as I probably should.”

“Anything about the west?”

“Not that I can remember.”

Philippa nodded thoughtfully. She turned around, arms crossed, eyes downcast. “Ever since King David took power, the taxes have gone up. It was fine at first. My family could pay them, we had enough. Eventually though, he stopped wanting money and started asking for some of our grain, which was also fine at first. But then he kept wanting more and more. And now our people have barely anything to eat. My father keeps asking him to lower the amount at the council meetings he attends, but the king keeps insisting we have enough to give away. That it's time for the lords to pay their dues, no matter how much my father tries to dispute him.” She took a deep breath and lifted her head. Her eyes were filled with determination. “So...I suppose I want to know sword fighting to protect my people when I’m Lady of Canterbury. Like I’m supposed to.”

It was Simon’s turn to be surprised. He remembered Philippa just as Agatha’s sweet, shy roommate. But either he hadn’t been paying enough attention at school or she’d changed a lot in the last year. He was thoroughly impressed by her. And thoroughly disgusted by what David was doing.

“That’s horrible,” he growled. “I-I had no idea! I thought he was just going after the really rich lords, not the common people! Gods, I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“It’s not your fault, Simon,” Philippa sighed.

“Yeah, it kinda is.” He sat down in the middle of the ring, a cloud of sawdust bursting up around him. “I should know more about Watford policy. But I don’t, because I don’t like it. And look where that’s got you and all of the West. So, I’m sorry. I’m a shit prince and I’ll be an even shittier king. You and your people deserve better.”

Philippa didn’t say anything. Simon stared at his own feet. He heard rather than saw Philippa sit next to him, sawdust blowing up in a little “puff” noise. “Would you do something like what he’s doing here?”

“Never,” Simon said automatically. “Never, absolutely not.”

“Then you’re already a better king than David.”

Simon lifted his head. Philippa was looking at him kindly. He smiled back, but still shrugged. “Thanks. The problem is I’m not sure I’d know how to do something different though. Fuck not sure I even want to be king.”

“Well, guess you don’t have much choice in that matter.”

“Guess so.” He flopped backwards on the itchy training ground floor. “Kinghood is a long way away though. I can sword fight until then.”

Philippa snorted. “Then I’ll have to challenge you again sometime.”

“I’d certainly like that.”

She flopped with him. Together stay stared at the high vaulted ceiling with its intricate lattices of stone. Philippa’s head lolled to the side. “So what else do you like to do instead of the prince stuff?”

Meet up with a snarky cursed boy who I have the inexplicable urge to snog, he wanted to say, but obviously couldn’t. Baz was his beautiful secret. Luckily there were other, smaller things in his life. “Well, sword work obviously, good food, and drawing.” He turned to look at her. “What do you like?”

Philippa made a contemplative noise. “Hm, sword work too, dresses, and, well, you’re going to think this is childish, but I love storybooks.”

Simon bolted up, a big grin across his face. “Really? Me too! I love old storybooks!”

Philippa gasped and grinned like a child with candy, sitting up as well. “Oh, amazing! Finally, someone to appreciate the collection with!”

“Collection? What collection?”

Philippa looked incredibly pleased. She jumped to her feet with impressive ease then offered her hand. Simon took it, and she hoisted him to his feet too with only a little struggle. “Just you wait, Prince Simon, your britches are going to be blown off.”

Simon had little time to question that statement before she was dragging him down the grand hall. They raced across the floors, sharply turning corners and narrowly avoiding running into things and servants alike, until they reached a set of giant double doors. Philippa let go of his hand, and pushed them wide open.

“Welcome,” she announced grandly, “to the Canterbury Library.”

Simon thought the royal library was impressive, but this was something else. The shelves were at least three times as high, nearly reaching the ceiling. Each as filled to the brim with books and scrolls of every kind. If Penny or Baz came in here, neither would go outside ever again, Simon thought. Even he could appreciate the majesty of it.

“Wow,” he whispered.

“Impressive right?” Philippa said. “Ever since the first royal palace burned down, this has been the biggest collection of books in all of Watford. My father says that’s one of the reasons King David wants to make sure we won't have rebellions. We’ve got some of the older historical and magical texts here that were lost in the fire that he occasionally needs, for negotiations and spells and such. But those are boring. Let me show you the good stuff.”

Philippa started walking to to her left. Simon trailed behind like a lost puppy. Which he certainly felt like in here. Philippa turned a corner, took another five steps, then stopped. Simon nearly ran into her, barely stopping in his tracks.

“This,” Philippa announced, “is the best part.” These shelves are lined with slimmer volumes with many coloured covers. Philippa pulled a red one off and held it out to Simon. He took it, tracing over the letters. “The Dragon Prince.” It was one he was familiar with, one he read back in the orphanage. But unlike the orphanage, this copy was pristine. There wasn’t a single scratch or tear, the letters were shining silver, and a Canterbury Cross was indented on the corner. A sign that this book belonged in this incredible place.

“It’s beautiful,” Simon said. “All of these are fairy tales?”

“These five shelves, yeah. I’ve read them all a lot.”

“Lucky. I would be here all the time.”

Philippa traced over the spines with genuine affection. “Well, you can look at as many as you while you’re here.”

Simon grinned all the way to his ears. “Thank you. I’ll definitely take you up on it.”

“Go wild. I’m happy to have someone else who can appreciate this.”

Simon took that to heart. He scanned over, pulling any title that looked interesting. Ones he knew, ones he’d never seen before. “The Red and White Queen”, “Mermaids of the Crystal Cave”, “A Beauty and Her Monster”-

Simon stopped. He stopped moving, thinking, breathing, anything. Time had frozen in place as his fingers touched the spine of a blue bound book. He read the the silver words on it over and over.

The book read, “Swan Lake.”

Simon cautiously took it. The cover had the title again, along with a silhouette of a swan floating on water. Simon took a deep but shaky breath. What was this? Could it be...?

“Simon?” Philippa asked. “Are you alright?”

“Y-Yeah,” he replied, shaking the haze from his head. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just, uh, really amazed by your books. Um, I-I’m going to go start them right now, actually. Thank you!”

“Um, you’re welcome!” Philippa called after him as he ran away.

Simon ran and didn’t stop until he got to his room, slamming the door shut immediately. He felt like he had some sort of dastardly secret. Did he? Was this even important or just some scary coincidence? It didn’t hurt to look.

Simon placed the stack of books on his bedside table and held onto Swan Lake. He stared at it for far too long, caught in excitement and nerves. Slowly, he opened to the first page.

———————————————

Once upon time in a faraway land, there lived a prince named Siegfried.

Siegfried lived a loud and carefree life. He went to parties and drank far too much ale, never caring for anyone. But on his 18th birthday, his mother told him he must choose a bride at the ball the next evening. Siegfried was forlorn over the loss of his freedom, so his friend suggested they go hunting to lift his spirits.

They went deep, deep, deep into the woods with their crossbows. Siegfried looked up to the sky, and saw a flock of swans overhead. The pair followed the swans into the darker parts of the forest. Siegfried quickly lost his friend among the trees as he followed the flock.

Soon, he came upon a crystal clear lake. The swans landed upon the water. Just as the sun set on the horizon, every bird turned into a beautiful woman dressed in white. One also wore a golden crown upon her golden hair. Siegfried was instantly enchanted by her. He emerged from his hiding spot. They were all initially scared, but Siegfried assured them that he meant no harm.

The crowned one told Siegfried that her name was Odette. She and her companions were all cursed by an evil wizard named Rothbart. They were forced to be swans during the day and only became human at night when they were landed upon the lake.

Siegfried was heartbroken at her woe. He asked if there was anyway to end this horrific curse. The only way to break the curse was more tragic than the curse itself. Someone who had never loved before had to declare their love for Odette to the world.

Siegfried almost asked to know more, but suddenly a man with yellow eyes like an owl stepped out from the shadows. It was Rothbart! Siegfried raised his bow to strike the evil wizard through his heart, but Odette stopped him. She told him that if he killed Rothbart before the curse was broken, it would be permanent. Siegfried lowered his bow and could only watch as Rothbart went by.

Odette returned to her ladies. They danced together in a circle around the water. Siegfried was dazzled beyond reason. He tried to approach them, but all the ladies were scared of his weapon. He snapped the crossbow in half, then approached Odette. He offered his hand and waited for Odette to take it. She was shy and scared at first, but Siegfried offered all of himself, and she decided to trust him. They danced the entire night together. Their feet spun and flew over the ground. Their eyes never left each other. And in the course of that night, Siegfried and Odette fell in love. But soon the sun was rising once more. Odette and her ladies became swans once more. Siegfried called to the swan in the golden crown that there would be a ball at his palace tomorrow, then he left with his broken bow in tow.

That night at the ball, Siegfried patiently waited for Odette. Other princesses tried to entice him with their wiles but he had no eyes for them. Soon, Odette walked through the doorway with an escort, dressed all in black. Siegfried’s heart soared. He asked her to dance like they did the night before. She accepted. They flew across the floor for the second time. It was enchanting and perfect. Once their dance was done, Siegfried called for the guest’s attention. He announced to them all that he loved this woman undyingly, and he would marry her. They cheered for the newly betrothed.

But when Siegfried turned to his love, he suddenly realised that she wasn’t Odette at all. Her appearance had completely changed. A loud laugh rattled out from the crowd. Odette’s escort transformed. It was Rothbart again! He told Siegfried that he had just announced that he intended to marry not Odette, but Rothbart’s daughter Odiele, magically enchanted to look like Odette. To make it worse, Rothbart showed him a vision. Odette had been watching through the window, begging for Siegfried’s attention. But he hadn’t seen her. She was now crying and running away. Siegfried was shocked and furious. He left the ball and ran to the lake.

Odette arrived at the lake. Her maidens tried to comfort her but she was heartbroken beyond repair. Siegfried arrived soon. He apologised and begged for his love’s forgiveness. Odette forgave him, but he had already declared his love for another. He could no longer break her curse. Odette decided she’d rather die than live as a swan. Siegfried didn’t want to live without her, so he decided to go with her. Hand in hand, they both fell into the lake, and they stayed until the water filled their lungs.

Little did Siegfried and Odette know, their sacrifice ended the curse on the maidens. The newly freed and grateful women watched as the lovers’ souls ascended to the heavens, together forever more.

The end.

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Simon slowly closed the book. He took a deep, shaky breath, eyes squeezed shut. The story was poorly plotted and depressing as all fuck, but that was wildly unimportant. A swan during the day, human at night, only able to turn back while on a lake. All were far too familiar to be a coincidence. Did the cloaked man take the curse from the story? Simon didn’t know if that was even possible. All he knew was that this was near identical to Baz’s story.

Except, this version had something else, something he’d been trying to find for months; a way to break the curse, a way for Baz to finally be free. But was his curse the exact same as Odette’s? Could Simon break it the way Siegfried was supposed to? Simon blushed at the very idea of it. Was that what Simon felt? He had no clue what “undying love” was supposed to feel like. But he knew he’d do anything for Baz, there was no question about that.

No matter what though, the second he got home, Simon was going to show this book to Baz.

———————————————

Simon was strangely sad to leave Canterbury a week later. He shook hands with Philippa in public, but took a private moment to hug her. He thanked her for the company and the books she was graciously letting him borrow, and promised to write when he got home. She promised to write back. Simon wanted to thank her for Swan Lake in particular, but she might ask why. Simon couldn’t explain that in the short time they had. Maybe he would tell her when this was all over, when Baz was free.

The trip back was the same length, but it somehow felt ages longer. Simon was jittery beyond belief. He couldn’t sit still for more than two minutes. He read and reread Swan Lake twenty times, so that he could recite it to Baz off by heart. Baz would find that impressive. But eventually that became too much as well. He read other books, napped a bit, and before he knew it, they were back on the edges of Watford Town. Simon breathed a sigh of relief. Tonight, he’d finally be able to see Baz again.

But then the carriage stopped.

Simon lurched forward then back, knocking his head on the seat. He rubbed the sore spot with a pout. Why did he keep getting head injuries? His brains were going to rattle loose and dribble out of his ears soon.

“Ow,” he groaned.

The door was violently ripped open, making Simon jolt. David stood with a stern expression.

“Get up, Simon,” he said. “We’re doing a procession, like when we arrived in Canterbury.”

Simon sat ramrod straight. “W-What? Why?”

David narrowed his eyes. “Because the capital should receive their ruler and heir with appropriate fanfare. So we will make sure it happens.”

Simon took a deep breath in place of a groan or shouting at David’s stupid face. “Yes, Father,” he gritted out.

“Good. Put on your crown.”

Simon snorted and grabbed his circlet. They walked to their horses, and Simon reluctantly got on. He was going to hate this even more than Canterbury and he knew it.

Watford Town as a bit more excited than Canterbury as they rode through. People looked generally pleased and happy. Or at least they were better at hiding their displeasure than Canterbury. They clapped and cheered and grinned. Simon waved politely, trying to ignore his desperate desire to run away into the Forbidden Lands. His eyes just swept over the crowd with passive disinterest. He scanned for Penny’s hair or one of his other old classmates. He noted the house, the fruit stands, the pond.

Simon’s breath stopped. His hand froze in the air. Sitting on the pond was a black swan, wearing a silver chain. And one of it’s deep sea grey eye met Simon’s dead on.

———————————————

AN: Well, Simon knows a way to break the curse, but whoops, Baz knows the truth. I won't spoil, but next chapter is where the angst really comes in. Also tbh I didn't plan on Philippa being this much of a character, but I needed a character with a last name and Philippa came up. She doesn't have a lot of personality beyond crushing on Simon in the book so she's almost an OC lol. I enjoyed writing this. Baz and Simon are so crushing and so awkward haha. It was hard to balance between the two but I liked doing it.

Next chapter will be next Monday baring any complications. And I'm posting the last request fic in the next few weeks. I'm really excited to post it and containing my excitement is really hard lol. I'll just say is that it's connected to one of my previous popular fics :) See you guys soon!

#carry on #snowbaz #simon snow #baz pitch #philippa stainton #the mage #fluff #angst #fantasy au #the black swan #mysnowbazfic

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553butterfly553 · 5 years

Text

The Adventures of Arcadia and Hendrickson - 17

Demon King

“Meliodas? Is that you?” Elizabeth questions yet again this time as she turns around to face the demon behind her. “I applaud your effort, Elizabeth. You've tried very hard. The same goes for you too, the Seven Deadly Sins. That rare beast and my granddaughter as well.” “You are not Meliodas. Who are you?” At Elizabeth's words, everyone got on edge. “Meliodas... I've fulfilled my part of the promise... Now do yours! Tell...me...where...Gelda...is...” Zeldris was struggling to sit up to look at the man. “Zeldris. Are you still in love with that vampire woman? What a failure. Just like your brother, Meliodas.” Those words from the man who was not Meliodas seemed to shock the short black-haired man. “This tone of voice... This is not the captain!” Diane gasped out as she looked at King. “He would've never called me a rare beast!” Hawk chimed in as he flew over the giant. “He called me his granddaughter... That means...” Arcadia muttered as she stepped in front of Hendrickson. “It seems that we meet again...” Elizabeth spoke as she went on edge. “Sister... This is bad...” Merlin spoke to the young girl. “It seems like we have no choice...” Ludociel spoke to his younger brother. “This can't be... Why... are you in Meliodas's body?!” Zeldris gasped out as he finally stood up. “Father! What's going on?! You told me that Meliodas was supposed to be the next demon king!” “Did you really expect me to give my throne to a traitor? All I really wanted was a new and more powerful body. The Ten Commandments are fragments of my own power and absorbing them will not only make you stronger... But you will also become my new vessel.” The man then appeared in the middle of the Seven Deadly Sins, putting everyone on guard. “Get out of his body right now!” Elizabeth yelled out angrily. “What a disgrace of a father! How could you possibly do something like that to your own son?!” Hawk screamed out next just as angry as Elizabeth. “Why? You ask? Hmm... To not waste his true potential, I suppose.” The Demon King responded simply with his arms crossed. “What?” “Oh yeah! I was just remembered of a good idea! Elizabeth, I'm going to free you from the curse I've bestowed you with!” “What are you talking about? As if you would really remove that curse from Elizabeth! You really suck at lying!” The pig yelled out as he flapped his wings angrily. “But after that... I will kill you in the most brutal way possible. I wonder what his face will look like this time. When he seems your lifeless corpse. Maybe he will become so distressed that he'll shortly join you in the afterlife. Or maybe he will finally be relieved to not be burdened by you anymore. The first scenario would be the best one. Wouldn't you agree?” The Demon King then moved to attack Elizabeth, but she was saved by Gowther who'd moved towards Escanor and Merlin. “Hendy, Arcadia, come here quick!” Escanor yelled out motioning for the two lovers. Quickly, Arcadia shoved Hendrickson towards Escanor but left herself alone. “Arcadia!” Hendrickson called out to his lover as Perfect Cube surrounded himself, Merlin, Elizabeth, Gowther, and Escanor. Hawk instantly started running towards the group. “Make some space for me too!” Hawk was then shoved into his own Perfect Cube but was stuffed in there. “Better than nothing I guess.” “King! Diane! If I remember correctly... Magical attacks do not affect the Demon King! Be careful!” Merlin called out to the two of them. “Okay!” Both King and Diane yelled out in unison. “I will also lend a hand. Are you coming, Arcadia?” Mael stated as he darted forward. “Yes, sir!” Arcadia responded, with her sword in hand as she followed the Archangel. “We will protect Elizabeth at any cost!” Diane yelled out as she hit the Demon King repeatedly. “We will not let you have your way with the Captain's body!” King was next to yell out as he used his spear to attack next. Mael and Arcadia were next, combining their attacks together. His fists with Arcadia's sword. “Impossible... He completely parried all our attacks?! He's unscathed!” Mael spoke, surprised, however, before anyone else could say anything, the Demon King returned all their attacks. Even the Perfect Cubes were shattered. However, one person remained untouched. It was Arcadia. She was completely fine as the Demon King had avoided hitting her. “Resistance is futile. Now then, allow me to end your suffering once and for all. And my granddaughter, Arcadia, is your name correct?” “Yes...?” “Join me.” “I might have been raised by demons, but that doesn't mean I'll join you. I can't.” “I see.” Not bothering to stop the girl, Arcadia made her way to Hendrickson's side. “Fallen in love with a human... Such a pity. How pathetic.” “Oy! Demon King!” Attention was turned to Hawk who was still in his little Perfect Cube. “If you intend on hurting Elizabeth, then you'll have to get past me! The Captain of Scraps Disposal! I, King of Leftovers shall be your opponent! Do you know what happens when the King of Leftovers gets serious? I'll beat you into a pulp!” “Hawk no! Don't provoke him!” Elizabeth screamed out in fear. “Hey! Coward! Do you hear me?!” “Is that pig stupid?!” Ludociel asked next just as horrified as Elizabeth. “Hmph.” The Demon King just smiled at the pig and then attacked him, lifting his bloodied body up with his power. “What an irritating species of beast. I will send you directly to your brother right now.” “Stop! Don't kill him!” Elizabeth screamed out as tears began to flow down her face. However, just as the Demon King went to kill the pig, Hawk was gone. Suddenly, there was another person there next to the Demon King who was now holding the pig. “Captain, do you hear me?” “So you made it back...” Merlin muttered as she laid on the ground in pain. “I... always knew you could do it...” “Yes...” Diane muttered as she smiled on the ground. “This guy... He's...” Mael mumbled in shock. “The fox sin of greed,” Hendrickson spoke, smiling. “Hang in there. I swear I'll get this old fart out of your body!” Ban spoke down to the Demon King. “You said you're going to drive me, the Demon King, out? You?! All by yourself?! How do you expect to do that?!” The Demon King returned with a smile on his face. “Ban... You... came for us... You really did...” Hawk choked out as he cried. “...Always pushing yourself too far, aren't cha?” Ban then threw the pig backward. “Take care of Master for me!” Hawk was caught by Gowther, who nearly fell over in the process. “Ban! No matter how immortal you are, there's nothing you can do against him all on your own!” King yelled at his friend in fear. “Ah, about that... Unfortunately, I'm not immortal anymore. I brought Elaine back to life. Which completely used up my fountain of youth power.” Ban sang back in response much to the shock of the fairy. “Now then, shall we get to driving you out?” “You foolish boy, you... THIS IS THE POWER OF A GOD!” Suddenly, a whirlwind type attack began to flow all around, causing everyone to have trouble staying up on their feet. Everything continued to swirl until they were all closed inside of King's protective circle. Mael and Ludociel had their own protection. “Elizabeth... Elizabeth!” Diane called out worriedly to her friend. “Diane! Is everyone alright?” Elizabeth questioned as she turned to look at her friend. “Mael and the others seem fine, but Ban is still on the outside! What should we do?!” “I...I'm sure he, of all people, will be okay... right?” Escanor questioned as he held Merlin in his arms. While Escanor held his love, Arcadia was tending to Hendrickson. “Are you alright?” The girl questioned her lover. He'd gotten a little banged up in the wind. “I am fine, are you okay?” He returned as he looked over the girl. She just smiled at him and nodded her head. “You keep protecting me when it's my job to protect you.” Before Hendrickson could respond, the storm died down. “Why did the storm suddenly stop?” Ludociel questioned out loud, loud enough for the others to hear. “Brother... Look at that!” Mael yelled out as attention was turned to Ban and the Demon King. “Impossible! He's going blow for blow against the Demon King, all on his own?!” Sure enough, Ban was landing a few punches, however, so was the Demon King. He was able to knock Ban down to a knee. “Did you seriously believe you could possibly manage anything against me, all on your own?!” The Demon King shouted at the panting man in front of him. Suddenly, his pain was written across his face and he nearly fell over as Ban stood back up. “Heh. Moron I'm not on my own.” Ban simply responded in turn. “I... Don't believe it! Ban's attacks had a real effect on him!” Escanor excitedly yelled out. “Ahh, but that's not all!” Gowther responded. “This feeling... It's...” Diane muttered to herself. “There's no mistaking it... From within the Demon King, this presence we're sensing... It's...” Elizabeth mumbled next in shock. “I... I can't believe it! The Demon King is actually reeling from ban's attacks!” Escanor happily called out before looking at the now conscious Merlin. “It's not just Ban... The captain is also fighting from within... As expected, he's not the kind of guy that gives up...” The fighting then began again, this time with Meliodas fighting within the Demon King as well. It almost seemed like Ban was having the upper hand now against the demon. However, the Demon King was landing a few hits of his own as well. With the cracking of the earth around them, the Demon King ended up on the ground. “What's wrong, Demon King?” Ban sang arrogantly. “Having trouble controlling your son's body as you'd please? Or perhaps you've been rejected by your son? Just so you know, you're nothing compared to the real Meliodas's strength.” However, the Demon King just smiled up at Ban and attacked him, lifting him off the ground before punching him right in the abdomen. “...Don't go getting cocky!” The Demon King responded with a soft smile on his bloodied face. “He's begun... overtaking Ban?” Diane gasped out horrified. “How?! Did the Demon King's power increase?!” The now smaller King questioned as Gowther held him up. “Meliodas, stop! You can't let your own hands wound Ban like this!” Elizabeth yelled out to the man. “Captain! Can he hear our voices?!” Escanor questioned loudly. “...Such futile wishes. No matter how loud you scream, your voices will never reach Meliodas.” The Demon King responded simply without even turning around. “That can't be!” “Everyone! I have a plan!” Gowther suddenly called out to his friends. Gowther then surrounded the Seven Deadly Sins with his power and seemingly transmitted it into Meliodas's heart. That left Mael, Ludociel, Hendrickson, and Arcadia to watch Ban's fight with the Demon King on the outside, while everyone else watched Meliodas fight his father on the inside of Meliodas. “In that case... I'LL SEVER THE SOURCE OF YOUR POWER!” The Demon King yelled out when he realized what was happening. Instantly, Mael, Ludociel, and Arcadia were standing in front of the group. “We'll never allow that!” Mael yelled out to the Demon King. “The likes of you Four Archangels and my granddaughter, dare to raise your swords against a god?!” The Demon King then sent something into the air and after it manifested itself, ban destroyed it before it could do any harm, resulting in him getting attacked. So, the thing lifted itself back up into the sky and powered up for an attack. All the while, Ludociel had begun to fade away. “It's impossible... there's no way to defend against that!” Mael yelled out horrified as it attacked them. However, it was stopped by Ludociel. “Enough of this futile struggling.” “Brother!” “Lord Ludociel...” Hendrickson muttered as he watched his friend disappear further. “Ludociel!” Arcadia called out in worry. She never liked the guy much, but that doesn't mean she wanted him to disappear just as they were getting along finally. “I won't lose you ever again... Not my friends, nor my little brother!” Ludociel yelled out protectively. “In another 5 seconds, there won't be anything left of you!” The Demon King yelled out as he prepared to attack some more. “I'll stop you before then!” Ban yelled out as he went to attack the Demon King from behind. “Go ahead and try it!” The demon stopped the attack and was able to make his own attack on Ban as the floating thing attacked the group of friends again. “Dammit... This is bad... It's taking all my focus just to keep up with him... But at this rate, they'll all be...” However, both Arcadia and Hendrickson noticed another being approaching the situation. “Someone's silhouette? No... it couldn't be...” Hendrickson muttered out loud to himself. “There's no one apart from Sir Ban that could possibly withstand this bombardment of magic...” The two watched as someone made their move and attacked through the floating thing's magic and cut deep into it. “...You...But why?” Mael questioned in shock as he held his brother in his arms. “You?! Zeldris... What is the meaning of this?!” The Demon King yelled out to his other son in horror. The short demon had been the one to save the Seven Deadly Sins and the others. “I have business with Meliodas. I would request that you back off of this, father. But before that, there's one thing I want to ask you...” Zeldris began as he flew above everyone. “Did you order me to execute the Vampire Clan, knowing full well of my relationship with Gelda?” “...You are a fool who cannot understand how it feels to be a parent wanting to save their child from a deadly disease...” His father responded lowly. “What?” “You are weak. And weakness... is a disease... Just who do you take me for? The commandment I granted you told me all about every last little detail. That you tried to hide it from me as you continued to have your little lovers' rendezvous with that little vampire girl. And that you disobeyed my order, and instead of executing the Vampire Clan, you sealed them away instead... Hoping to one day steal the throne of the Demon King. Not to mention the fact that you actually were sincerely trying to create an underworld where everyone could live in peace and harmony?! Absolutely preposterous! But since it did make you obedient to me, I had been overlooking it all... But that ends now.” The fallen creature then got back up and transformed into something stronger. Zeldris and the creature then began their fight. For the most part, Zeldris was able to defend against all of its attacks, only getting hit once. However, once turned into twice and then more times. Even so, Zeldris then used Ominous Nebula to bring it in close before wiping it out completely. “I've dealt with that distraction! Now get out of Meliodas's body and get b-” Zeldris was cut off by a magical attack hitting him, cutting him deeply. “Uncle!” Arcadia cried out in horror as the man began falling from the sky. She wanted to run after him, right then, but she was too afraid, so she just watched as the man fell and as the Demon King smirked at his injured son.

#hendrickson #hendrickson seven deadly sins #ludociel #ludociel seven deadly sins #mael #mael seven deadly sins #zeldris #zeldris seven deadly sins #elizabeth liones #diane #king #hawk #ban

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robinproblem · 5 years

Text

Been Seeing A Lot of Talk About Video Game Difficulty/Accessibility

in light of the new FromSoftware game, Sekiro. And honestly, yeah, developers need to be better about making their games more accessible. People keep trying to defend the Soulsborne games' difficulty like it is some sort of sacred cow. But let's call it what it is: gate-keeping (thank you to @gwynharwyf for pointing this one out to me), as well as ableism.

Even as an able privileged person who loves those games to death, there are moments in them that absolutely piss me off and make me want to never touch one of their games again because they are brutally unfair where no amount of "skill" is going to make them more fair. Heck, just the first Dark Souls has a TON of these kinds of moments (I am looking at you, Bed of Chaos. And you too, Capra Demon with your shitty dogs and tiny boss arena.). Most of those momenta in the game I get through by abusing the enemy AI or abusing the game mechanics, as do most people I know who boast that they are good at the game.

Then Dark Souls II (for many reasons my least favorite in the series) decided to screw the players over by making it more difficult to level grind and actively punishing the player for dying. Sure, you could argue that you can still grind indefinitley by using certisn items or covenants, but that also increases the game difficulty, defeating the reason as to WHY a player might need to be using those in the first place. Struggling even more because you keep dying and hollowing? Hope you can defeat enough enemies to purchase from the LIMITED SUPPLY of effigies. Ran out of those? Don't worry as there is a reusable source to reverse hollowing...NEAR THE END OF THE GAME. Oh, and let's not even get started on the DLC paths that were built specifically for multiplayer. Not playing online? Well, better hope you can summon an NPCs and hope their AI actually cooperates this time. Sure would suck to get to the boss, have them all die instantly, and then be stuck fighting a boss (or two...or three) with inflated stats that were meant to take on three characters.

And even Bloodborne, despite possibly being my favorite of the bunch, gets in on fun. Having trouble getting through the first area of the game? Want to grind a bit to level up and make things easier? NOPE. Gotta get to a boss first! It literally took me a couple hours to get to that point, and I nearly quit the game out of frustration. Let me repeat that: the first part of the game is so difficult and unforgiving that it took me HOURS of repeating the same 5 minute stretch just to get to a point where I could LEVEL UP and make the game easier. The Bloody Crow of Cainhurst? Oh yeah, I totally beat him in a fair fight by fully utilizng all the skills I developed up until that point... Haha, hell no I didn't. I totally cheesed him by using the beast cutter to keep him prone on the ground and pray to Ebrietas that he did not stun me with his gun and then one-shot me while I was trying to start the combo. Because fighting an NPC who has fully maxed out stats, uses healing items, and can kill me with two shots with a weapon that is meant for PARRYING instead of damage is truly something that I live for. I am definitely going to "git gud" so that I can fight fairly against a character that in any other game someone would claim "hax".

And oh boy, Sekiro. I had been pumped for this game for quite some time. I immediately fell in love with the aesthetic and characters. The tutorial area eased me into the mechanics, and I truly felt like a badass shinobi as I rained death from above and parried the lowly warriors before me. I even felt like FromSoftware had made efforts to make their games more accessible by toning down the difficulty and making the timing easier. And then I got to the first mini-boss outside of the tutorial area. And I died. And died. And died. And died. And died. And died. And died. And I quit playing. I came back the next day, died another 10 times or so, started figuring out the rhythm and got them close to death, then died again, died another 5 times, and then finally beat him. And this has been the cycle for the last week. And I feel like I am not far into the game at all. And unlike Bloodborne or Dark Souls, there are VERY limited options for increasing your character's capabilities without defeating mini-bosses and bosses. Oh, and once again like Dark Souls II, there are penalties for dying repeatedly. Oh, and that nifty resurrection ability that Okami has access to? Yeah, that makes the penalties accumulate faster. The safety nets that existed in previous games (albeit, very flimsy safety nets) were taken away, making this an even less accessible game than previous games. Thanks, FromSoftware. Thanks.

And because of all of this, Sekiro has been by FAR my least favorite of the well-known FromSoftware game (Actually, Dark Souls II might still have it beat. I really hated Dark Souls II, but that is not the discussion here). With each new boss I never feel "challenged". I instead feel like my hands have been tied behind my back with chains and heavy locks while 10 guys with chainsaws and guns come rushing at me, and the entire time there is someone standing next to me saying, "Why are you complaining? This is totally fair. Being chained up makes being shot and ripped in half feel more satisfying." As I said earlier, I am an able privileged person, consider myself "good" at Dark Souls and Bloodborne, and even *I* could use assistance in Sekiro. How could I possibly ever suggest this game to someone who does not have the same privilege that I have? Same with Dark Souls and Bloodborne. And honestly, I would LOVE it if others could get into the games and share in the world, environment, characters, and lore that I love so much. It would be great to talk about Dark Souls without saying, "Oh, yeah, it is great, but these bosses and these areas are all horrible. BUT once you get through them you do not get to the next horrible area/boss for a whole five minutes!"

I have seen so many great suggestions from people who know far more than i do about changes that could be implemented to help, such as sliders for adjusting game speed and timing windows, auto-combos in games with demanding button sequences, holding buttons instead of rapid button tapping, and many many other simple adjustments that can make a huge difference for people. If I find any of them again, I can link to them. And to any able privileged people reading this, this does not affect how you get to enjoy the game. If you still want the high-difficulty path, that option is still there. Even in games with multiple difficulty options, I still find myself usually picking the harder option. I pick what I feel is going to make me enjoy the game most. Giving others the tools that they need to enjoy the same experience as you in no way impairs your ability or enjoyment of the game. If you feel it does, you need to take a long hard look at yourself and what exactly videogames are supposed to be to you.

#videogame difficulty #ableism #fromsoftware #sekiro #bloodborne #dark souls

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shepherdsoreydidnothingwrong · 5 years

Note

I NEED THAT NUMBER 8 WITH ZAVEIZEN PLEASE !!!!

After one hundred years, I have come to deliver. (I hope this anon is still here, rip. I’m sorry)

8. “We play online games together all the time and you keep flirting with me over chat. Is this a thing or are you just trying to get pocket heals???”

AO3 Link

It starts out simple. Harmless. Innocuous.

They can't get enough people together for a full group that day, and so they just leave competitive mode untouched, opting instead for quickplay. As it all becomes casual and relaxed, Eizen opts for one of his more comfortable heroes. He selects Li Li and settles in to wait, cracking the first of many sodas for the night.

It takes them some discussion back and forth, but Rokurou and Eleanor eventually settle on being the damage, while Velvet takes the tank role.

The first map they find themselves in is Towers of Doom. Their one random is a Varian, which is a safe enough choice. Eizen appreciates it and hopes dearly that he is good at tanking.

Rokurou and Eleanor circle each other on matching mounts as they wait for the match to begin.

The match begins as normal, with a few skirmishes around the altars tilting the favour this way and that. Eizen remains close to the tank, but Eleanor is becoming quite reckless, chasing kills she has no business chasing. A few words from Velvet over voice chat puts her back on the right track, however, and they soon find themselves taking towers at a pace the other team has difficulty matching.

The tank remains close to him at all times, and he appreciates that. It is something he always tries to do when he takes that role, and he finds it a sorely lacking quality in their regular batches of random people who join the team. He also appreciates it when said tank actually thanks him for healing, something which he is wholly unused to.

With a winning team and a map advantage, they find themselves tearing at one of the keep walls together as Eizen keeps an eye on the enemy team on the mini-map. They are scattered, cleaning up invading mercenaries or fighting Velvet and Rokurou in the top lane. They begin to relax in the face of the disorganisation. Then, while they look away, the enemy team suddenly rallies, and begins to close in on the two of them.

Eizen notices it too late, and the Varian (Zavvy, his healthbar reads) is too focused on blocking cannonballs to notice. They end up scrambling to get out, and Eizen curses under his breath.

"Can you walk out?" Velvet asks, even as they both give up hope on it. The enemy Dehaka is dragging their Varian towards the keep, while the Butcher blocks Eizen from leaving.

Eizen considers what his options are (though they are few) and decides to try to salvage what he can. He turns and activates his ultimate ability.

It works. Once Dehaka lets go, Varian parries a few cannon balls and begins to walk towards Eizen, whose healing is now keeping them both alive. It all happens very quickly. The Butcher and enemy Jaina begin to attack, and Varian dives for the latter.

They make it out, but only barely. Eizen clutch heals the Varian out of the confrontation. Stressed and tense, he walks him out as though on an afternoon stroll. The enemy team follows, but now Varian's cooldown is over, and he can parry their attacks completely for a second or so. This lends them enough time to get back behind the walls of their side and continue to where it is safe to hearth.

"Close one," Eizen mutters into the microphone on his headset. Then a little message appears on his screen. It is posted in the team text channel, and it reads "Thx

At first he wonders whether the heart makes it sarcastic, but there is no reason for the guy to be annoyed about what just happened. Then he hears Eleanor over voice chat.

"Aw, he sent a heart. I like him."

Rokurou chimes in.

"That's the least salty bit of chat I've seen in days. Let's keep him and see if he does it again."

Eizen considers the message. Then, as Li Li runs on autopilot back to the middle lane, he opens up the chat window.

"Np," he writes and presses send. Rokurou chuckles in his ears.

"Did you make a friend?"

Eizen rolls his eyes, but there is a smirk on his face.

"Eyes on the lane, Junior."

They win that match by virtue of Rokurou sneaking into the enemy core in the middle of a skirmish at their own. It's a close call, but they make it.

Zavvy gets the MVP title, and immediately the message comes.

"10/10 would have my ass saved again."

Eizen stares at it for some time before he skips out of the awards screen.

Velvet adds the newcomer to the party at Rokurou and Eleanor's request, and they find themselves once more a full team.

At the character choice, Eizen suddenly becomes unsure.

"Velvet, what do you need?" he asks. Velvet hums over the audio.

"I'm in an assassin kind of mood, so if you don't mind, either tank or healer," she says. There is some typing on the other end and a message appears in the group text chat.

"Hey, Zavvy," she writes, "You down for more tanking? Or should someone else?"

They wait a few seconds, after which a new message appears.

"I'm down :) Don't mind staying with the middle lane."

That means remaining with the healer, which presumably in this case ends up being Eizen. He wonders whether that has anything to do with it. He was unusually affectionate in the text chat.

Velvet writes back, "We'll work around that then. Do you wanna stay Varian or switch?"

"I'm good with Varian," he writes back. "Just be ready to capitalise on some taunts ;)".

"Oh, I like him," Rokurou says, and Eizen rolls his eyes. They select some appropriate assassins and the next match begins.

This time they find themselves in Dagon Shire. They split easily into lanes, and Eizen zooms in to get a better look at the Varian.

Zavvy has dressed him in the red king's armour, with the helmet shaped like a lion. It would look impressive if he was not riding a Special Snowflake mount. As it is, he looks very festive, and Eizen smiles at the sight.

"Nice setup, Varian," he writes and presses send.

Zavvy writes back immediately. "Thanks. It's camouflage."

Eizen stares at the message. He stares at the little Varian, who sticks out like sore thumb. At last, he writes, "No?"

The reply comes quickly. Eizen rolls his eyes so hard he almost misses the cue to exit the base.

"Then explain why I become instantly invisible in every patch of grass ;)".

Rokurou laughs. Velvet makes a disapproving sound. Eizen sighs.

They win that match too, but not by virtue of Eizen saving Zavvy the whole time. He cannot in good conscience let such bad humour slide.

Over time, Zavvy becomes something of a regular in their group. It comes by virtue of Rokurou friending him and suggesting him every time he is online. Eizen would be amused if it was not so annoying every time he plays the role of the healer.

He picks Morales, Zavvy picks Varian. Eizen picks Tyrande, Zavvy picks Jaina, and they make a good team. It is just a little annoying when Zavvy insists on putting himself in front of every attack headed Eizen's way even when it will surely kill Zavvy himself. That is not a good way to go about protecting a healer. Especially when Eizen's health was fine as it was even with the attack, will that man just calm down with his heroics?

Eizen considers talking to him about it. He also considers never playing again because this is becoming too much of a headache. He should not be flattered at antics that lose them every third game. It is a team game, not a middle age battlefield.

He keeps picking healers, just to check how consistent this behaviour is. The results frankly astound him.

He is playing alone with Eleanor when the subject comes up out of nowhere, much to his chagrin.

"You wanted to keep him that badly, huh?" he says.

He is playing Butcher today, and the other team has no idea how to properly deal with him. It is a game that is so far more than satisfying. He zeroes in on a Jaina who has been left to her own devices and overextended. He almost feels bad for her.

"I guess so." Eleanor sounds as though she is smiling. "He was a good tank, and you didn't leave him to be skewered, so I'm guessing you like him too. Roku insisted on friending him.

"That so?"

Eleanor is pushing on her own unchecked, and Eizen begins to wonder if they have somehow fallen into the wrong bracket. This is too easy.

"They got to talking, and apparently he's a lot like you," Eleanor says with some amusement in her tone. "Wouldn't shut up about historic linguistics."

Eizen frowns. "Eleanor, I'm an archaeologist."

"And that is not the same how?"

He does not have the energy to explain this. Grudgingly he realises that it does not really matter. It still sounds very interesting a subject to discuss.

"What language was he talking about?"

"Take three guesses."

That means Ancient Tongue. Also known as Eizen's subject of choice. He stubbornly refuses to be intrigued.

"Good for him," he says. When Eleanor laughs over the voice chat, he closes his eyes briefly in annoyance.

His phone lights up momentarily and makes a cheery sound. He glances at the minimap. Sure enough, Eleanor is in motion (meaning she can have her hands off the keyboard for a second or two).

"That's what he looks like," she says. "Roku claims he lives in the area."

"So now I'm being pushed into the saddest form of online dating ever invented?"

"Don't say that. There are far sadder forms."

Eizen tries to keep from it, but his eyes are drawn to the black screen. He is currently dead in the game, and the timer is still on ten seconds. He pushes the home button, and the top part of a face appears on the screen.

Despite what Eizen might think of him, Zavvy looks just striking. His features are sharp, his eyes sharper. A warm shade of amber.

He diverts his eyes back to the monitor and begins to ride to the middle lane. The healer is alone, and keeping to themself, but they might be able to push some together.

"Do you want his number?" Eleanor asks when he says nothing. The silence drags on as he reaches the Morales and they begin to push.

"Do I?" Eizen says, deliberately being difficult. His mouth twitches when he hears her huff.

Suddenly, the mini-map in his peripheral flashes. He looks down and sees a spot of red too close for comfort.

"Eleanor," he says. "Someone has taken out siege camp. Go clear it."

He moves the game camera and sees Murky slip just out of sight. Damn.

They have pushed far enough that anything more would be a risky overextension. He watches the healer go to the bottom lane, and then leaves to go check on the bruiser camp closer to their base. Eleanor hearths and goes to clear the sieging giants. Their random people are still pushing, but he has a bad feeling about it now.

He pings for their damage and healer to retreat, as both are beginning to overextend. There is no reaction. At his location, Murky begins to attack the camp he guards. Right in front of him too, which only makes the bad feeling worse.

"Look, you don't have anyone to talk about all this history with," Eleanor says. She seems less troubled by these developments than he is. "Rokurou has his number. You should call."

Murky is good. Better than he is. Eizen is unsure which is more annoying, this fight or Eleanor.

"I've got a situation right now."

"Fine," she says, "but the offer still stands."

That is all she has time to say before the other team descends on their healer and dps like a flock of locusts. Eizen does not have it in him not to blame Eleanor a little bit.

Zaveid. He learns that his real name is Zaveid. He is unsure which name is worse.

"How well do you know Zaveid?" he asks as soon as Rokurou picks up the phone.

Rokurou snorts on the other end.

"Did he win your little healer heart with his suave ways?"

"He did not," Eizen says, because it's easier to just go along with Rokurou's word choice than argue over it. "But he's cost me enough rating that at this point he deserves a talking to in person."

"Watch the claws, kitty," Rokurou chuckles. "What if I don't wanna tell you now?"

"Do you?" Eizen asks. There is a beat of silence in which Rokurou thinks.

"Fine," he says, "But only because I wanna see where this ends up."

Zaveid picks up on the third ring.

"N'yello," he says. His voice is deep, his tone charming. Eizen wonders about the annoyance he suddenly feels.

"Zaveid?" he asks.

There is a pause on the other end. Then Zaveid says, "Am I in trouble or something?"

"That really depends on how well you defend yourself," he says before he can think it through. Said like that, it just sounds like a bad pick-up line.

Zaveid chuckles. "Well, I've received stranger calls. To whom do I owe the pleasure and what can I defend myself for?"

Eizen opens his mouth to answer him, but then he stops. The words he wanted to say now sound ridiculous in his mind, and he has no backups. He ends up standing there for a long moment, scrambling for something to say. Outwardly, he looks calm, the way he wants to be inwardly.

"I'm Eizen," he says eventually. "I'm the one who has basically gotten a day job healing you."

There is a beat of silence that stretches almost to the same length his own did. Then Zaveid says "Heroes?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

Something is off about Zaveid's voice and Eizen cannot put his finger on it.

"What?" he says. Then Zaveid explains in just a few words, and still somehow they manage not to make any sense.

"I thought you'd be smaller."

Eizen stares out the window in front of him. He blinks.

"What?"

"You," Zaveid says, as though that makes any sense. "I thought you'd be smaller."

It feels absurd to point out the obvious, but evidently here there is a need.

"You can't see me," Eizen says.

"I know," Zaveid says, "but the voice tells me enough. You're bigger than I pictured you."

Slowly, Eizen brings up a hand to rub at his closed eyelids.

"Nevermind that," he says. "At any rate, we need to talk about your idiotic Heroes strategy. I can't keep clutch dragging you out of fights forever."

Something changes about Zaveid's voice, and it is in the direction of amusement. "Is that so?"

"Quite."

"And you needed to talk to me over the phone to do this?"

He bristles. "Yes. You've died enough to actually demote me now."

"Well we can't have that." Zaveid sounds less concerned than he should be. "Say, you sound as though you know a lot about this, and Roku tells me you live nearby. Wanna meet up sometime and tell me in depth what I'm doing wrong? Say, over coffee?"

Eizen opens his mouth. Closes it. He can imagine his sister laughing at him, wherever she is at the moment. It must look odd to the people around her. She never laughs.

"Hellawes Uni campus," he grinds out, because he does want to and pride is a stupid thing. "Wednesday at noon. You're paying."

"I always do on strategy meetings. See you there."

Eizen hangs up before Zaveid can say anything else. Before he can change his mind.

He texts Rokurou, "I am going to kick your ass you later."

The reply comes quickly. "I place all blame on Velvet. Also, you'll need to be more specific."

"For befriending Jack Sparrow," he writes back, and then leaves the phone in the living room to go get some coffee and calm himself down.

#Zaveizen #Eizavie #toz #tales of zestiria #Zaveid #Eizen #Sage practices writing #prompts #Anonymous

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osmw1 · 5 years

Text

Dimension Wave Chapter 13 — Cheesy

I’m standing in front of the cave. In my hand is my fishing rod with a sinker threaded onto the line.

“Let’s do this then.”

They silently nod in response and I cast my line. I have fine control over my rod, thanks to Fishing Mastery IV. The hook sinks right into the Lizardman Dark Knight. It probably dealt a point or two of damage, but it can hardly be called an attack. But it did exactly what I wanted it to—pulling its aggro.

“It’s comin’! Get ready, everybody!”

I’m not even sure if I did any damage to it, but it’s rushing towards us at the speed of lightning. If this were any other monster, we’d be instantly destroyed, but…

Kaboom!

The Lizardman Dark Knight slammed into the mouth of the cave accompanied by a terrible crash. Yup. The Lizardman Dark Knight doesn’t fit through the entrance. There are a lot of games where you can trap monsters by getting them to clip against objects. It’s an easy way to level up, but devs usually patch stuff like this out pretty quickly. Fortunately, it works in Dimension Wave. And it goes without saying that there’s a chance of it not working, but after discussing it between the three of us, we decided to try it out.

“Let’s kick its ass!” “Understood!” “Aye!”

The rest was straightforward. All we had to do was use the weapons and skills we had to and keep on attacking the trapped monster. I took out my Cetus Longsword and started hacking away at the trapped Lizardman Dark Knight too.

Unfortunately, I don’t think I’m doing too much damage. My strikes connect with a dull clank. I couldn’t tell from a distance, but now I know that it’s not only clad in armor but also covered in scales. Its defense is accordingly high too. I look over and see Shouko endlessly thrusting and swinging as well. Yamikage has some kind of scroll-shaped magic tome by his mouth and begins chanting. Moments after, a black visual effect appears, and he starts absorbing green orbs from the Lizardman Dark Knight.

That’s probably his Drain, a dark magic spell. Shouko and I aren’t using any skills though. We don’t know how much HP this boss has, so it’d be hard to guess if we’d make up any energy expended.

“This guy is literally so tough. Can you even win fighting normally?” “I have heard talk of a party defeating it before.”

We strike up a conversation, but our hands hadn’t stopped.

“’Tis naught but a rumor, but supposedly, they had tanks occupying the monster while they blasted it with light magic from a distance.” “I see. Its physical defense is as high as it looks to be.”

It’s just a guess, but I don’t think we’re quite fit to fight this Lizardman Dark Knight. The folding fan doesn’t do much damage and Drain is a dark-type skill. Our chances of winning are zero if not for cheesing it. My attacks make an unpleasant clank when I hit it and that’s with my strongest weapon I have. Oh, and if I had to say, I think a metal axe or even a blunt melee weapon would fare much better.

“In any case, if it doesn’t make any strange movements, we can just keep on wailing on it.” “Okay!” “Aye!”

A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step is what they say. Just gotta keep at it.

Thirty minutes later.

“I-It’s still standing. How much freakin’ HP does this bastard have…”

If we get too close, it’ll strike back at us. We’re barely managing to outrange it. Especially with Shouko. The range on her fan is short, so she’s gotta occasionally parry its attacks. Not to mention, the AI causes it to try to run away from time to time. Naturally, I summon it back with my fishing rod. Seeing how I’m able to manage that says a lot about how smart the AI is.

“Perhaps it has regenerating capabilities.” “Nay. ‘Tis but because our offense is lacking.”

Well, that’s true, but I’m about average, I’d say. It’s been seemingly forever since we’ve attacked this monster, resulting in its armor crumbling and even scales ripped off. Still, it’s tough mentally to keep this up for a whole hour on a single monster.

“Be nourishment for my spirit. Drain!”

Yamikage’s been spamming Drain endlessly for 30 minutes and now even has more Energy than Shouko. That’s to say, he has about 27,000 right now. The Lizardman Dark Knight sure has a lot of HP.

“Whoa?”

As soon as the familiar green orbs get drained by Yamikage, the Lizardman Dark Knight moved in a peculiar way like nothing seen before. It keeled over with a deafening wheeze. It crumbles and slams onto the ground while luckily, causing no earthquakes.

“Hath it finally perished?” “Hey! That’s a death flag right there!” “Hmm, aye. I have left my younger sister behind in my hometown. Therefore, death must wait!”

… god damnit. I like his enthusiasm.

“Goodness… whatever are you two doing?”

Shouko shot a chilling glance over at us while confirming that the enemy is dead. Bosses feign death too. I raise my guard and get closer.

“Be wary. It may be feigning death.” “Gotcha.” “That is unlikely.” “Why’s that?” “Dark it may be, but it is still a knight. I believe it would have more honor than to do something so cowardly.”

Hmm, she’s got a point. It’s normally the demons and tribals that play dead, I think. Well, I guess the Lizardmen are a tribe, but still, it’s a knight. It should be honorable. More honorable than us, at least. We’re the one who trapped it and cheesed it to death. But ignore that.

“As for drops… we obtain a Fragment of Darkness and Dark Spear Splinter.” “We may sell those for a hefty sum.”

It’ll make us a good bit of coin, though I’m not exactly broke. Well, it doesn’t hurt to have more money. According to Yamikage, that two-handed spear is a material and a very desirable one for spear-wielders because of its dark element.

“Such is the prowess of a gutting-type weapon, true to what the rumors say.”

The real issue now is what to do. I glance over to Shouko and give her a look. Honestly, I want to gut it. I don’t think I’d get another chance to gut it. And likely, what we’d get from the monster would be really good for weapons and armor. A side of me is saying to keep the secret but the other side of me really wants the boss loot.

“We’re buddies that took down a boss together, so I guess I’ll tell ya…”

There ain’t nothin’ better than boss drops.

“If you are fine with it, Kizuna, then I believe it is for the best as well.” “Hmm? What is the meaning of this?” “Well, just watch. Speed Gutting…”

After chanting the skill, I take my Cetus Longsword and start to butcher up the giant Lizardman Dark Knight. I can’t do anything about the armor and scales broken off of it, but I can harvest the rest of his scales, bones, flesh, teeth, eyes, skin, tail, and even blood. But, for some reason, I can’t make use of what I broke off of it in the fight. It’s like the complete opposite of that certain monster hunting game.

“Egads…”

Yamikage mutters out in shock. Since this is a boss monster, I got as much material as I did from the Giant Herring. The Giant Herring must’ve been the boss of its species too.

“What on earth is this? Hath the items increased? Doth gutting-type weapons not increase our drops?” “It is poorly explained in the manual, but this is the proper way of using a gutting weapon.” “Never have I been more surprised in this world before!”

I can’t tell whether he’s really that surprised or his acting is just overboard, but his words are filled with zeal. Well, even if he tells everyone about this, we can still make plenty of cash if we sell these boss items quick enough.

“Then, shall I keep this a secret too?” “Huh?” “It seems as though Misses Kizuna and Hakoniwa were both keeping this undisclosed. As gratitude for saving my life, I, too, shall bring this secret to my grave.” “W-Well, I’d appreciate it if you would…”

And to think he had almost killed us. I’m glad he changed his mind. If he’ll keep it a secret, then I really don’t have any problems with him.

“However, I doth have an issue to discuss…” “What is it?” “May I perhaps join your party?” “… why?” “I have been playing alone up till now.” “Is that right?”

Shouko questions him. He’s got such a weird build. It’s no wonder no one’s letting him in their party. I almost blurted that out loud, but I held my tongue.

“It may hath been on your tongues already, but I have a communication disorder.” “…?”

… what was that? Unfortunately, I had no clue. Some might think his roleplaying is over the top, but I think most enjoy it. At least Alto or Romina wouldn’t have a problem with it.

“Many times, I have wished to join a party, but I always end up unable to.” “I am sorry to hear.”

Shouko’s totally starting to let her guard down. It totally reeks of a scam.

“Question.” “Aye?” “You said you have a communication disorder, but you’re talkin’ to us just fine.” “Speaking like this—like a ninja—seems to help.”

What kind of reasoning is that? At least come up with a better excuse.

“Mine heart is pounding as we speak now.” “Goodness! Kizuna, let her travel with us. We are fellow Spirits after all!”

What is this feeling? Like I’m watching my friends getting swindled? W-Well, I guess a party wouldn’t be too bad… hmm?

“What did you just say?” “We are fellow Spirits after all?” “No, before that.” “We should travel with her? “Yeah. ‘Her’?”

Yamikage’s wrapped up in all black. That’s not something you could tell at first glance. There’s even black cloth wrapped around their mouth, so it’s hard to tell by their voice.

“I am embarrassed to show my true face in front of others, but if we are to fight together, then please, look at me.”

Saying that, Yamikage unravels the black cloth…

—and reveals a beauty girl with silver hair.

contents: /prologue/ /ch001/ /ch002/ /ch003/ /ch004/ /ch005/ /ch006/ /ch007/ /ch008/ /ch009/ /ch010/ /ch011/ /ch012/ /ch013/ /next/

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panda-noosh · 6 years

Text

Pass Me Your Blade {Assassin!Pidge x Assassin!Reader}

Words: 5065

Pairing: Assassin!Pidge x Assassin!Reader

Summary: You had been ordered to kill the nobleman who went by the name of Zarkon. The job should have been an easy one – in and out, no bother. But all of that changes whenever you find out that one of the lead assassins at the Voltrol guild had been sent to do the exact same job as you.

Warnings: Graphic violence. Graphic scenes of blood.

Notes: if y'all sleep on Pidge i'm gonna flip a table. Also, I really like how this turned out for some reason. I love writing about assassins, and using all that fancy language from the olden days. I hope you guys like it too :)

The thrill pulsed through you, just as it always did.

It was a low thumping in the back of your head, an insistent need to get the job done, to do as you were ordered to do. You were not driven by spite of the person you were sent to kill, though you knew the details behind the persons reasoning for wanting this person dead; they had killed their family, slaughtered them in cold blood and left your customer to rot on his own. He had come up to the guild, shaky hands, looking over his shoulder – a new guy. He clearly had never hired an assassin before.

This happened all too often. The rich and the higher ranked got off with things that the people of your status would be killed for. Hung in the streets, stoned, burned. You were shown no mercy purely because you weren't as useful to the government as a nobleman was.

That was what drove your anger; the discrimination, the way you could understand exactly what your customer had gone through. You didn't remember your family. It had been long ago since they had been taken into captivity, forced to work for the higher-up before being slaughtered for not working hard enough. You had been the only one spared.

You didn't remember it. You often chose not to think about it, losing yourself in the thrill of getting vengence.

That was exactly what you were doing now. It was a paid job, but the satisfaction of ridding the world of evil was a good enough payment on its own. You would never tell your customers that, though. They would try and lower their prices if they knew you would do it free of charge any day of the week.

You leaped off of the mast you were previously crouched on, cloak billowing out behind you. With one hand, you gripped the edge of your hood, keeping it pulled on over your head in an attempt to keep your identity at least slightly unknown, though you were certain any guards who happened to look up would recognise you instantly – or at least recognise the silver cloak you wore, the only thing that gave away the identity of the guild you worked for.

In your other hand you held your knife. It was decorated with the blood of the guards you had taken down in the hallway. You felt guilt for killing them, that not having been your goal, but you had to get the job done, and they were in your way. There was no mercy you could have shown them that would have made your job any easier.

You rushed across the grand marble floor of the palace you had infiltrated, making your way towards the double doors that would lead you into the nobleman's – Zarkon, you believed his name was – dining quarters. You were positive he was there; you had checked and double checked the analysis Lotor had given to you. After weeks of trailing this man, you were almost certain he should be dining at this moment in time.

You kept your footsteps quiet. There was no point in rushing. Sure, you were eager. Eager to see the life drain from his eyes, eager to see justice be served, eager to get your job done – but being too quick on your foot would lead to people noticing you, would lead to your stealth becoming sloppy.

But subtlety would have to be thrown out of the window eventually. You saw no above-entrance to get into the dining room, meaning you would have to walk directly through the double doors to finish this man off. You would have to be quick about it, giving yourself only a few seconds to inspect who you would have to take down before heading directly for Zarkon.

You reached the double doors and glanced behind you one last time – there were no guards coming in after you. You were fairly certain you had rid of them all, some of them simply unconscious if they didn't cause too much of a racket. Those who had tried to grab you, or who had tried to call for help had been greeted with a knife in the throat.

You grinned to yourself, turned on your heel, reached your hand out towards the golden handles of the door-

Something slammed into the side of you.

You grunted, falling to the floor. Your fingers knocked against the handle, sending a loud clanging noise to echo through the grand hallway you stood in. It must have also signalled the guards on the other side of it. There was no way they hadn't noticed the sudden jerk of the handle as you fell.

But you couldn't worry about that now.

You rolled onto your back, immediately kicking your feet up. You couldn't even see who had attacked you in the first place, but it most certainly wasn't a guard. The person had come from the rooftops – this person was an assassin.

Competition.

You nearly sneered, but instead took the time to clamber to your feet after having slammed your feet into the persons chest. You glanced around once you were upright, knife held in your hand – the blood would be an obtrusion, but it was the best you could do at this point. You had no time to clean it.

That was when you saw the green cloak.

Your eyes lit up in panic – Pidge Gunderson, one of the head assassins of the Voltron guild. You had heard of her, of course. She was renowned, even amongst the noble men. People feared her. She was small, but she was strong and she was fierce and she very seldom showed any mercy for people who got in her way.

Apparently, that person was you today.

The kick you had sent to her chest had most definitely set her off balance. As you stood up and looked over at her, you noticed her stumbling, gripping one hand to her breast and panting heavily. You had winded her.

But that wouldn't be enough. She would recover soon enough if the rumours of her strength were anywhere near the truth.

You gripped your knife tighter as she caught herself, eyes snapping up to meet yours. For a moment, neither of you moved. You kept your head down, trying to keep your eyes covered by the lip of your hood – she didn't care. Her hood had long since fallen from her head, revealing her dishevelled brown hair and her sinister eyes that were glowing behind a pair of circular spectacles.

She panted, raised her knife and slowly started to circle you.

“They always send their weakest ones on jobs like these,” Pidge spat. Her voice was low, clearly trying to keep up any air of subtlety that she could. “They should have known you wouldn't last a minute if you came across one of our people.”

You didn't respond. If there was one thing Lotor had taught you during your time in the Galra guild, it was never to stoop to their level, never give them the satisfaction of a comeback. Especially if the assassin was as smart and quick as Pidge Gunderson.

Pidge smirked at your silence, clearly impressed with your reserve. Assassins were known to be easily angered – that was part of what made them so scary, so feared amongst the nobility. If the nobility even stepped out of line once, rage from guilds all across the province would be triggered.

“He's trained you well,” she continued. “But not well enough. You should have known to have stayed away as soon as you heard that I'd been given this job. Zarkon is my kill.”

She jumped towards you then, but you were prepared. Your cloak flurrying behind you, you span out of the way of her first blow, landing in a crouch against the marble floor. Pidge was quick, though. She parried, immediately swinging her blade in a downward arc towards you, slashing it down your arm and cutting the fabric of your cloak.

You hissed, stumbling up from your crouch. The cold feeling of blood dribbling down your arm was already starting to bother you, though it didn't stop you from sending your elbow up, slamming it into Pidge's chin as she came at you again. She grunted, her head swinging backwards, giving you just a few seconds to get away.

Perhaps if you could get yourself up onto one of the masts, you would be okay. You'd be able to distract her long enough to allow you some time to get into the dining room, finish the job, and leave.

But the risk was a great one, especially with your wounded arm. If Zarkon had guards with him – which he most likely did – you wouldn't be able to fight them all off with only one good arm.

You cursed, your options dwindling. Lotor wouldn't be happy to know that you had come back to the guild with nothing to report on. You hadn't even gathered any useful information – you hadn't expected to run into trouble this large.

Pidge recovered quickly from the blow you had sent to her. Her height made it easy for you to lose track of her, though the green cloak was far from subtle, warning you of her presence as she darted towards you.

You dodged her first blow and swung your knife when she skidded past you. You heard her yell, your knife making contact with the side of her face, slicing her cheek. The cut was shallow, but it still drew blood – definitely not enough to keep her out of your way, but enough to distract her.

You jumped up as she dabbed her fingertips against her now wounded cheek, one arm wrapping around the low masts. You grunted, biting down on your lip to disguise the cry of pain that so badly wanted to burst from your system as you did so – your arm was throbbing. Blood was pooling out around the wound, making tears sting your eyes as you felt it splitting even further with your attempts to pull yourself up onto the mast.

It became too much. Your fingers loosened around the knife you had been holding, and you watched in horror as it clattered to the ground with a loud clink.

Pidge's head snapped up to look at you, her eyes wide, alert. There was no way the guards hadn't heard that.

You were proven correct whenever the doors to the dining room finally swung open. You cursed to yourself, pulling yourself up with one final burst of strength and kneeling down in the masts, looking down at the guards who flooded into the room.

Pidge was still kneeling on the floor, delicate fingertips caressing the cut you had sliced into her cheek. She had looked away from you now, instead choosing to turn her death glare to the people marching towards her now.

Your breathing grew shallow. Your knife was in the middle of the room. They would notice it. They would know there was somebody else in the room, another assassin alongside Pidge.

You held your breath and watched the scene unfold, unsure of what else to do. There was no way you could retrieve it now.

Especially not whenever Zarkon sauntered into the room, purple cloak billowing out behind him in a way that reminded you that this man truly thought he was a kind, some deity that should be praised and bowed to. It made you sick. For a moment, you were half tempted to just take the chance; jump down from the masts and attack him where he stood, no matter the consequences.

You stayed where you were, the blood pooling around your fingers reminding you why you had fled from the scene in the first place.

“An assassin,” Zarkon said as he walked towards Pidge. “What a surprise.”

She didn't reply.

Zarkon grinned brightly. Guards had grabbed Pidge by the shoulders at this point, her feet lifted off of the floor, green cloak dishevelled and her hair even messier. She didn't panic of flurry in their grip; she simply let them hold her, glaring daggers at the nobleman walking towards her.

“Has Takashi not learned his lesson from the last assassin he sent to kill me?” said Zarkon. “What was their name? Allura? That poor girl – a beginner, I can only assume. She most definitely wasn't skilled in the art of subtlety, but that seems to be a running theme for people from your guild.”

Pidge clenched her jaw, and you felt your stomach coil. The thing was, Pidge was good at being subtle. You hadn't even suspected her in the room with you until she had attacked. It was you dropping your knife that had roused the attention of the guards.

Why wasn't she saying anything? She knew where you were. She had seen you scramble up into the masts. There was no way she believed you had fled without your knife – what kind of assassin would you be without your blade?

Zarkon slowly trailed his eyes over the marble room, and it was then that he spotted the blade in question lying in the middle of the floor. You held your breath again, slowly ducking down a little bit further, hoping and praying to whoever was listening that you were hidden well enough.

He frowned and approached the blood stained knife. It was short, almost laughable in comparison to the machete Lotor wielded, or the double bladed katana that Keith had. But it was your knife, and it currently had his guards blood on it.

“This isn't yours, is it?” he asked. He kneeled down and picked it up between his forefinger and thumb, inspecting it. The blood dripped off the end of it, making you wince. “Who is with you, assassin? Who else is lurking around in my palace?”

Pidge didn't reply at first. Her breathing had turned shallow, eyes darting around the room and yet she still refused to look up at you, hiding away in the masts.

You felt cowardly. You wanted to do something. You oddly wanted to help, but you were weaponless, and you were injured. There was little you could do without risking both your and Pidge's life at the same time.

Zarkon turned towards Pidge, his jaw clenched as her silence was the only response he received.

“This was fun up until now,” he growled. “I was showing you mercy. I could have ordered my men to kill you on sight, and yet you are still breathing in front of me now. I suggest you tell me who is with you, or else I might not be so lenient.”

Pidge spat. “Go to hell.”

Zarkon's eyes darkened before he nodded to the guard who was holding Pidge. Your stomach dropped as the guard immediately pulled a dagger from his waist holster and held it to the assassins throat, causing her to grunt and writher a tiny bit in his grip. She was clearly trying to keep her dignity, not wanting to make too much of a scene in fear of seeming scared of a man like Zarkon; he was a coward. He got his guards to do his work for him, killed innocents purely because he feared the idea of competition. He made you sick, and now he was holding one of your own with a dagger to their throat.

Because that was what Pidge was. You and her could have all the competition in the world, but Pidge was an assassin. She understood you. She knew what you had been through, and you both had the same goal.

You had to do something.

“Are you going to speak now?” Zarkon questioned. “One inch at a time, that blade will cut your throat. I will spare you if you tell me who your companion is.”

“If you kill me, you'll never know.”

Zarkon's eyes glowed. “You sure do have a smart mouth on you for somebody so small. How old are you, little one? Nine? Ten?”

“I may be young, but I've seen things you wouldn't even dream of, Zarkon. I'm stronger than you in every sense imaginable. So do your worst.”

What was she doing?

Zarkon's grin only brightened. He nodded to his guard once again, and you watched in horror as the blade was dug a little further into Pidge's neck.

She closed her eyes, breathing going erratic for a moment before she calmed down. Blood pooled over the edge of the dagger, dripping onto Pidge's sandalled feet.

“Are you going to talk now?” Zarkon questioned.

“The blade is mine,” Pidge hissed.

Your stomach dropped. You weren't entirely sure you had heard her right – did she just claim that your fallen blade was hers? Did she understand how much trouble that could get her in? It was one thing entering the palace with one blade, but two would surely have her publicly hung for her crimes.

Zarkon raised a bushy eyebrow, looking back down at your knife in his hands. You would do anything to retrieve that now. You needed to help Pidge.

“You truly walked into my palace, intent on killing me with two guild blades?”

Pidge nodded. “Two is always better than one, my good man.”

“Funny how that works,” Zarkon growled, before he stepped forward and swung your knife towards Pidge in a surprisingly professional arc.

Your legs took on a mind of their own, doing their own thing completely against your will. You were jumping from the masts before you could stop yourself, winding around a pole and landing in a crouch upon the floor. Your hood was still pulled on over your head, but a guard gasping, “A Galra assassin!” gave your identity away almost immediately.

You didn't wait for the reaction of Zarkon. You needed to get to him as fast as possible.

His arm was still in the air by the time you reached him. He went to bring it down towards Pidge, a killing blow, but your hands wrapped around his wrist and you tugged. He stumbled backwards, a cry of surprise escaping him as the two of you fell to the ground.

You immediately took the initiative, straddling the nobleman and fighting your knife from his grip. He was yelling, screaming for his guards to do something, but all he had at the moment where the three guards who had been dining with him – you and Pidge had killed and knocked out the others.

You span around, facing the two guards who were diving towards you. One of them still held Pidge, who was staring at you with wide eyes as you danced around the attackers.

One of them pulled a sword from a sheath on his back – a proper sword, silver and glistening in the white light of the marble room. You smirked at it.

“I always did enjoy a challenge.”

You stepped forward, making it seem like you were going to try and clash your dagger against his sword – how stupid he must have thought you to be. Instead, your step forward turned into you rolling against the floor, back against the marble. The guard grunted, looking down at you, and it was then that you brought your feet up, landing them directly into the area between his legs.

He cried out, eyes watering immediately. He doubled over, and you sent your heels into his chin, knocking him backwards.

You stood up quickly, grabbed his fallen sword and stuck it through his chest before he could even comprehend the idea of standing up.

The second guard came at you quickly. You span on your heel, immediately clashing your new weapon against his; now you had a sword. Now, your disadvantage was non-existent bar the fact that your skills in fighting were much more polished than his. Whilst the noblemans guards had been trained in the art of battle, you had been trained in the art of stealth. You knew how to creep around a man, how to take him by surprise; the guards knew how to charge, how to run into violence head first. They didn't know the manoeuvrers you did.

That much was made clear in the way this particular guard struck his sword towards you. With the mix of shock from the death of his friend and the anger he must have felt, his moves were sloppy. There were tears stinging in his eyes as he made a sharp swing towards you; one you easily blocked with your sword. The shock off the swing wasn't even that big, meaning his hit had surely been one he hadn't exactly planned out.

That was his first mistake; sloppiness.

Zarkon was yelling in the background, still trying to stand up though the shock from the current situation was keeping him pinned to the floor.

Pidge was writhering in her captives grip, yelling for you to stop being stupid, to get out of the way, but you weren't listening to her. The thrill was back again, and you couldn't help yourself.

You would get both you and Pidge out of here.

You swung your sword and the guard blocked it easy enough. He smiled as if he had won some kind of victory – that smile was quickly sheared as you parried and slammed the end of your sword into his neck. He gasped, sword clattering to the ground as his hands came up and wrapped around his own throat, his breathing suddenly turning into desperate gasps.

You took your chance, swinging the blade and stabbing it through his stomach.

Zarkon yelled. “Damn you! Damn you all!”

He was still trying to get away. You could pay attention to him later.

For now, you span on your heel and turned towards the guard holding Pidge. She was now staring at you with wide eyes, a slight smile on her face, but it shifted once she noticed where your attention truly was; not on her, but the guard holding her.

Your gaze seemed to almost remind her that she was, indeed, currently being held in somebodies grip.

She raised a brow, and to your surprise, she leaned forward and clamped her teeth down on the guards hands. The guard was in a daze, having just seen two of his friends be cut down with such precision, by a person so small, by a person beneath him nonetheless.

He yelled, trying to pull his hand from between her teeth but she kept her grip tight. You watched on in slight amusement as she kicked her feet back, digging the heels of her shoes into the mans thighs until his legs gave in and he fell to the floor. Pidge immediately rolled out of his grip, and you found yourself tossing her your blade once she was free. She grabbed it, winked at you, span on her heel, and dug the blade directly into the mans throat.

He stayed upright for the space of a few seconds before he fell to the side, blood spraying out between his fingers. In a matter of minutes, you were surrounded by three dead people and a panicked nobleman.

You and Pidge stood side-by-side, casting glances towards the cowering nobleman. He was in the corner, knees bunched up to his chest, eyes wide and tear glistened. He wasn't even looking at his fallen soldiers, instead keeping his gaze directly on the two assassins in front of him.

Pidge stepped forward. “What an interesting change of events, don't you think, Y/N?”

You pursed your lips. “Just kill him and get it over with.”

“There's no point in killing him. We'll let him rot here. He can't hire any more guards – not with the debt he's in. Not with the lives he's taken. We leave this palace and his entire empire falls.”

Zarkon's eyes widened. “Just kill me.”

“That would be mercy,” Pidge growled. “That is something you do not deserve.”

She turned on her heel, placed your blade back into your hands before she walked out of the marble room. You watched her leave, your mouth open in shock; that was now what you had expected. You had expected her to put the man down as soon as she had the chance.

But perhaps she was right; whenever you had to live with guilt, death seemed more of a mercy than life did.

The night air encompassed you as you stood upon the lip of the rooftop that you visited one night out of every month. The stars were bright this night, the moon glowing a deep red colour; you had arrived earlier than usual just to see the red moon. Red. The colour of blood. Red. The colour you saw so often, the colour of the thrill.

It wasn't calming. In fact, standing upon this roof now was almost a form of self hatred, reminding you of the people you had killed and the lives you had taken so you could afford to live as you did; certainly not in luxury, but you were well. You were alive. You were fed. You had clothes on your back and a family to go home to – a family of assassins, none of whom were related to you by blood, but that didn't matter. They protected you, and that was what made a family at the end of the day.

“Where did it all go wrong, Pidge?”

She stepped out of the shadows. You barely heard her. You very rarely did. You knew she was there though, watching you closely, keeping an eye on you like she had promised to do.

She had been keeping her promise. You had saved her life that day, all them months ago, and she was now going to make sure no harm came to you.

“I don't know,” she responded softly. “I prefer not to question it a lot of the time.”

“That's odd of you,” you said, turning to look at her. “You question everything else.”

She smiled lightly, ducking her head down with her arms folded over her chest. Once again, the hood of her green cloak was pulled away from her hair, releasing the light brown nest that she so rarely styled to look like anything more than a mess – but it suited her. You couldn't imagine her with anything else.

“Questions are important,” she said. “They stop you from doing idiotic things. Sometimes questioning things is good.”

“And what about impulse? Spontaneity? You miss out on such life changing events purely because you keep everything to a direct plan.”

Pidge frowned. “That's not true.”

“How is it not? I don't think I've ever seen you do something without a plan beforehand.”

“You haven't known me for that long, Y/N,” she said, before she looked up at you. “That's what scares me the most.”

You narrowed your eyes, unsure if she could see you in the darkness. The red moon seemed bright, but it did very little to illuminate the surrounding area. “What do you mean?”

Pidge stepped forward then, startling you. You nearly took a step back, the instincts of an assassin welling up inside of you, driving you to protect yourself. But Pidge was no threat. Despite the scar you bore on your arm from the slash of her blade, or the scar she wore on her cheek from the slash of yours, you two were allies.

Perhaps more than that, though you refused to ponder on such a ridiculous concept.

“You've known me for no longer than five months, and yet I find myself thinking about you more often than not,” she said. Your eyes popped open in surprise.

She took another step towards you, sighed. “You say I'm not spontaneous or impulsive, but I truly didn't mean for this to happen when I came up here tonight.”

“D-Do what?” you stammered, before silently cursing yourself for sounding so weak. This was Pidge. You had nothing to be afraid of.

“This.” She took the final step towards you, gently placed her hand on the back of your neck and drew you close to her. She paused, a breath away from your face. You could feel the warm heat radiating off of her, her skin boiling beneath the thick cloak she wore. You could smell the fresh blood on her, no doubt from a recent kill she had been ordered to be a part of.

She let her gaze travel down to your lips, making sure you weren't about to pull away in disgust. A part of you was tempted – assassins weren't meant to fall in love. You were a killer. You didn't deserve to take lives and live a full one at the same time.

But her eyes had trapped you, and the feeling of her small hand against the back of your neck, and the sound of her heavy breathing was enough to keep you frozen in space.

And then she was pressing her lips to yours, and everything else fell into place at the same time.

There was a constant weight on your shoulders, being an assassin. A constant fear that somebody was going to attack you, somebody was going to find the location of the guild and take you all out. That was always a risk, and it was one that left you on edge at all hours of the day.

Never before had you believed that that edge could be taken off by something as simple as a kiss, but god did you suddenly melt.

Your lips moulded against Pidge's, your body doing the exact same thing. You two seemed to fit perfectly together, her hands falling from your neck and resting themselves on your waist. You weren't entirely sure what to do with your hands, but found yourself placing them on either side of her face, pulling her that little bit closer to you.

And the moment was perfect. Amongst the fighting and the violence and the lives you lived, this moment was perfect.

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33 Fun Facts About Buffy the Vampire Slayer

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33 Fun Facts About Buffy the Vampire Slayer

On the genre-busting television show Buffy the Vampire Slayer, the heroine saved the world—a lot—over the course of seven seasons. Buffy premiered on the WB 21 years ago today; here are a few things you should know about the show. (And this is just the tip of the stake.)

1. THE SHOW IS A SEQUEL OF SORTS TO A MOVIE.

In the late ‘80s, writer Joss Whedon had an idea for a movie that would subvert the horror genre. “I had seen a lot of horror movies, which I love very much, with blond girls getting killed in dark alleys, and I just germinated this idea about how much I would like to see a blond girl go into a dark alley, get attacked by a monster and then kill it,” he said. “And that was sorta the genesis for the movie, Buffy the Vampire Slayer.” The movie, penned by Whedon and directed by Fran Rubel Kuzui, hit theaters in 1992. It starred Kristy Swanson as Buffy, Donald Sutherland as her watcher Merrick, and Luke Perry as her love interest, Pike (David Arquette also starred as Pike’s best friend-turned-vampire Benny). But the film was different from what Whedon had originally intended. “My original script for the movie was kind of dark and scary and it was comedic, but the final product was much more a broad comedy,” he said.

A few years later, the rights holders approached Whedon about making a TV show out of his creation. He wasn’t sure it would work, but “I started to think about it and I came up with the notion of playing all sorts of horror movies in high school and making them metaphors for how frightening and horrible high school is,” he said. “With the show, I kinda wanted to get back to the roots of genuine horror, but with a lot of comedy and a lot of edge and a lot of self reflective sort of examination of horror. But at the same time, get genuinely creepy and hopefully genuinely moving.” And the TV version of Buffy was born.

2. KATIE HOLMES AND RYAN REYNOLDS COULD HAVE STARRED ON THE SHOW.

Could you imagine Katie Holmes as Buffy and Ryan Reynolds as Xander? According to a 2000 biography, before she was Dawson’s Creek’s Joey Potter, Holmes was offered the role of the slayer, but turned it down to go to high school. Reynolds refused the role of Buffy’s wisecracking sidekick. “I love that show and I loved Joss Whedon, the creator of the show, but my biggest concern was that I didn’t want to play a guy in high school,” Reynolds told The Star in 2008. “I had just come out of high school and it was f***ing awful.”

3. GILES WAS THE FIRST ROLE CAST.

According to casting director Marsha Shulman, “Anthony Stewart [Head] was the first person that got cast on the first day we started casting. He was just it.”

Many other actors who read for the part, Whedon said, made Giles too stuffy, but Head’s take was a little sexier. “Tony Head was one of the few people that we saw and instantly knew right away that nobody else was going to play that part,” Whedon said. “He embodied it perfectly.”

4. SARAH MICHELLE GELLAR AND CHARISMA CARPENTER SWAPPED ROLES.

Gellar auditioned for the role of Sunnydale High queen bee Cordelia Chase before eventually being cast as Buffy. “At the time, we were all trying to find our way to make the show something, its own thing apart from the film,” Schulman said in The Watchers Guide. “We didn’t think of Sarah as Buffy because we thought she was too smart and too grounded and not enough of a misfit in a sense, because Buffy was this outsider. How could Sarah be an outsider? She’s so lovely. So we brought her in as Cordelia, and she was fantastic as Cordelia. Then we went to the network, they knew that Sarah was a star from her previous work, and that she could be Buffy, and that we could do that Buffy.”

Carpenter, meanwhile, auditioned for Buffy before being cast as Cordelia. “I think that the way it turned out is the way it was meant to have turned out,” Carpenter told the BBC. “I’m extremely pleased that I wound up with the character that I have for a myriad of reasons. … I don’t know that I would have been ready for that kind of fame if I’d gotten Buffy. So, I think [Buffy] went to the right person.”

5. WILLOW WAS RECAST AFTER THE PILOT WAS SHOT.

Willow, science geek and Buffy’s best friend, was an exceptionally tough part to cast. “We had actually cast someone else in the pilot. It just didn’t work,” Shulman said. “When we got picked up, we always felt that we were going to start again and look for another Willow.”

“I was determined that we wouldn’t have the supermodel in horn rims that you usually see on a TV show,” Whedon said. “I wanted somebody who really had their own shy quirkiness. While the network and I were looking for people, Alyson Hannigan slipped under our radar. She came in and we didn’t really know that she was going to be the guy, and then when she read for the network we were just blown away. She brings so much light and so much tenderness to the role, it’s kind of extraordinary.”

6. DAVID BOREANAZ WAS DISCOVERED BY THE CASTING DIRECTOR’S FRIEND.

Whedon, the network, and the casting director saw a number of guys read for Buffy’s eventual boyfriend (and vampire!) Angel before David Boreanaz auditioned. “The breakdown said the most gorgeous, mysterious, fantastic, the most incredible man on the face of the earth,” Shulman said. “I think I saw every guy in town. It was the day before shooting, and a friend of mine and called me and said to me ‘You know, there’s this guy that lives on my street who walks his dog every day and I don’t know what he does but he has all the things you’re describing.’ And the minute he walked in the room, I wrote down on my notes: This is the guy.”

Still, despite the fact that Boreanaz gave “very good read,” Whedon wasn’t sold on him. “He wasn’t exactly my type,” he said. “I wasn’t sure we necessarily had the guy here until I asked the women in the room, who had turned into puddles the moment he walked in. I had to defer to them—they seemed to know better than me, and thank god I did, because David turned into a great star and a very solid actor.”

7. THE FIRST VERSION OF THE THEME SONG WAS A DUD.

Whedon wanted the credits sequence—which begins with “this scary organ and then devolves instantly into rock ‘n roll”—to spell out for viewers exactly what the show was about: “Here’s a girl who has no patience for a horror movie, who is not going to be the victim, is not going to be in the scary organ horror movie,” he said. “She’s going to bring her own youth and rocking attitude to it.”

Dissatisfied with an early version of the theme, Whedon opened it up in a contest of sorts to local indie bands. It was Hannigan who suggested Nerf Herder; the band ultimately wrote and recorded the show’s theme. “They created the show and were filming the first season and the people there … hired some fancy pants Hollywood guy to write the theme song and they didn’t like it; they wanted something more rocking, I guess,” Nerf Herder’s lead singer, Parry Gripp, said. “So they asked a bunch of local, small time bands who they could pay very little money to come up with some ideas and they liked our idea and they used it. And the rest is history!”

The band rerecorded the theme in the second or third season because the first recording was a hasty affair, and the song went off-tempo in the middle, Whedon said.

8. THE SHOW SHOT IN A WAREHOUSE—AND AT ACTUAL SCHOOLS.

In the beginning, Buffy didn’t have much of a budget, so instead of shooting on a soundstage, the crew used a huge warehouse in Santa Monica, California. “We were very much on a tight budget,” Whedon said. “This hall you’ll see a lot of in the first 12 episodes. It is the entire school. We only had the one hall, so we use it over and over again. It’s really kind of sad, actually.” The outside of the warehouse also doubled as the entrance to Sunnydale’s only club, The Bronze. “When we designed the club, we put the door to the club on the outside of the actual warehouse so that we could go in from the outside because that would give it real life and make it very realistic,” Whedon said. “And of course we did it just once, and then once more in the third season, because you have to wait until night to shoot, go in and out and light it, and it’s just enormously complicated.”

Torrance High School in Los Angeles subbed in for the exterior of fictional Sunnydale High. It’s a popular spot for film and TV; you might also recognize it from Beverly Hills, 90210, The Secret Life of the American Teenager, 90210, She’s All That, Not Another Teen Movie, and more. And when Buffy went to college, most of Sunnydale University was shot in the warehouse, but some parts of the first episode of the fourth season were shot at UCLA.

9. THERE WAS A REASON FOR THE VAMPIRES’ CREEPY FACES—AND THE “DUSTING.”

In the Buffy movie, the vampires looked like regular people with sharper teeth and paler skin. But for the show, Whedon wanted to increase the sense of paranoia by making the vampires resemble normal people until it’s time to feed—at which point, they transform into monsters. But there was another reason, too. “I didn’t think I really wanted to put a show on the air about a high school girl who was stabbing normal-looking people in the heart,” Whedon said. “I thought somehow that might send the wrong message, but when they are clearly monsters, it takes it to a level of fantasy that is safer.”

Getting into vamp mode—which required a prosthetic that fit from the forehead down to the bottom of the nose—took about an hour and 20 minutes. “It can be tedious,” David Boreanaz said in 1998, “and taking it off is the worst part, because you have to sit there and you just want to rip the damn thing off—but you can’t, because you’ll take a piece of your skin with you. It has to be removed very delicately. But the end result is definitely worth it.”

The film also had vampire bodies lay where they fell after they were staked. But Whedon had different ideas for the show. “It was a very conscious decision to have [the vampires] turn to dust, clothes and all, because I didn’t think it would be fun to have 15 minutes of let’s clean up the bodies after every episode,” he said. The show’s visual effects artists worked on and refined the technique over the seasons.

10. THE CREATORS DREW ON EXISTING VAMPIRE LORE FOR THE SHOW.

But they didn’t use everything. Vampires don’t fly on Buffy or turn into bats because the show didn’t have the money and Whedon thought it looked silly. Other elements of vampire lore, however, were used: Vampires don’t have reflections; they can’t enter a house unless they’re invited; they’re vulnerable to garlic, crosses, sunlight, fire, and holy water; and they can be killed by beheading or via a stake through the heart.

11. GELLAR HAD SOME PROBLEMS WITH THE DIALOGUE.

The show was famous for its “Buffyspeak,” which was partially inspired by California Valleygirl-isms and how Whedon and the other writers spoke. For Gellar, though, that dialogue sometimes was an issue. “Joss has his own sort of language that’s difficult for us mere mortals to understand,” she said in 1998. “I grew up in New York. We didn’t have Valley girls, and constantly, I’m asking him ‘What does this mean? I’m not quite sure.’ There’s a very funny story about [my audition] where the first line is ‘What’s the sitch?’ And there I go walking in, and my first ‘What does this mean?’ No idea it meant situation. Talk about blowing a job instantly.”

12. HERE’S WHERE YOU’VE SEEN SEASON ONE’S BIG VILLAIN BEFORE.

Underneath all of the Master’s vampy makeup is actor Mark Metcalf, who has appeared in Animal House (he played Doug Neidermeyer) and Seinfeld (he played The Maestro), among many other films and television shows. “Most of the guys we read came in and gave us villain villain villain in a very unimaginative way,” Whedon said. “Mark’s not that character, he’s just sly. He undercut all of the villainousness with real charm.”

13. THE CAST AND CREW HATED THE LIBRARY SCENES.

Head delivered much of the show’s expository dialogue in the library—and cast and crew alike came to dread those scenes. “He’s brought so much to all these really tough speeches, giving them life where they had very little because they’re full of so much information,” Whedon said. “When we finally blew up the school at the end of season three and were in the library for the last time, everybody breathed a great sigh of relief because these became the bane for us when we were filming, to go back into this space and talk yet again about what the peril was going to be.”

14. DARLA WAS SUPPOSED TO DIE IN THE SECOND EPISODE.

The vampire (played by Julie Benz) was supposed to expire at the end of “The Harvest” after Willow doused her with holy water, but Whedon kept her alive because he thought Buffy and Angel’s romance would be more interesting if it was a triangle; Darla, of course, was Angel’s sire. She was eventually killed in episode seven, but would continue to pop up in other episodes—and in the spin-off show, Angel—from time to time.

15. GELLAR AND BOREANAZ WOULD EAT GROSS STUFF BEFORE KISSING SCENES.

In a 2002 interview with The Independent, Gellar called love scenes “the unsexiest thing in the world.” What she and Boreanaz did beforehand couldn’t have made it any sexier. “[We] were the worst,” she said. “We would do horrible things to each other. Like eat tuna fish and pickle before we kissed. If he had to unbutton my shirt or trousers I would pin them or sew them together to make it as hard as I could. Once I even dropped ice cream on him.”

16. THE SHOW BUILT ITS OWN GRAVEYARD.

In the first season, Buffy shot in a graveyard in Hollywood. “It meant going out all night, until sunrise, a lot of times,” Whedon said. “That was back when we had the energy for that kind of thing.” Starting in the second season, they created their own graveyard in the warehouse’s parking lot. “It made our lives a whole lot easier, but it doesn’t give you the scope that you get from [the Hollywood graveyard],” Whedon said. “It’s a really beautiful place. Looks great.”

“We poured in kerb, back-filled it with dirt and planted grass and lots of trees and stuff and that’s our graveyard set,” production designer Carey Meyer told the BBC. “The majority of our cemetery stuff actually takes place in that little tiny parking lot. At night, with a couple of headstones in the background with all the trees and such, you can really cheat to make it look quite large.”

17. WHEDON HAD AN INTERESTING NICKNAME FOR GELLAR.

At a cast reunion in 2008, Whedon revealed—to Gellar’s surprise—an odd nickname for her, borne from the fact that she dealt with so much pain on screen. “David [Greenwalt] and I used to crow, when we realized what Sarah could do,” he said. “We used to call her Jimmy Stewart, because he was the greatest American in pain in the history of film.” Gellar laughed and said “I never knew that!”

18. AT LEAST TWO ACTORS PLAYED MORE THAN ONE VILLAIN.

Brian Thompson, who played vampire Luke in the first two episodes, returned in the second season to play The Judge. “Quite frankly, we were in a hurry,” Whedon said. “We already had his face cast and we knew he could put makeup on and give us a good performance.” Camden Toy, meanwhile, played a number of villains, including one of the Gentlemen in “Hush” (season four), a skin-eating demon called Gnarl in “Same Time, Same Place” (season seven), and Ubervamp Turok-Han (throughout season seven).

19. THE WRITERS HAD THEIR OWN TERM FOR PLOT-MOVING DEVICES.

It was coined by writer David Greenwalt. “A lot of this stuff is based on myth and horror movies, and a lot of it made up for our convenience,” Whedon says. “At one point, when we were trying to figure out exactly what Buffy would be trying to do [in the first episode], Greenwalt just shouted out ‘For God’s sake, don’t touch the phlebotnum in Jar C!’ We have no idea to this day what it was supposed to mean, but it became our word for the vague mystical thing—such as the master’s cork in the bottle theory—so phlebotnum is our constant on the show.”

20. WHEDON WROTE THE LARGELY DIALOGUE-FREE EPISODE “HUSH” TO CHALLENGE HIMSELF.

Season four’s tenth episode, “Hush,” features creepy villains called The Gentlemen, who come to Sunnydale and steal the residents’ voices … so that no one can scream when the monsters cut out their hearts. There are only 17 minutes of spoken dialogue in the 44 minute episode. Whedon wanted to do a largely silent episode because he felt like he was phoning it in. “I had fallen into the ‘people a-yakkin, I can sort of do this without really thinking about it’ style of directing, and I wanted to curtail that in myself,” he said. “On a practical level, the idea of doing an episode where everybody loses their voice presented itself as a great big challenge because I knew that I would literally have to tell the story only visually, and that would mean that I couldn’t fall back on tricks. I wanted to do something harder.” Though Whedon was terrified that he wouldn’t be able to pull off the episode, it was well received by critics, and is a favorite of fans and the series’ stars alike.

21. THE GENTLEMEN WERE INSPIRED BY A DREAM.

A version of Buffy’s creepiest villains first appeared in a dream of Whedon’s; they floated toward him while he was in bed. “What I was going for was very specifically a very Victorian kind of feel, because that to me is very creepy and fairytale-like,” Whedon said. He created a drawing, which he delivered to makeup supervisor Todd McIntosh and John Vulich at Optic Nerve, the special effects house that created the prosthetics for the show. “I was drawing on everything that had ever frightened me, including the fellow from my dream, Nosferatu, pinhead, Mr. Burns—anything that gave that creepy feel,” Whedon said. “We get into a lot of reptilian monsters and things that look kind of like aliens, and what I wanted from these guys was, very specifically, fairy tales. I wanted guys who would remind people of what would they were scared of when they were children.”

Whedon’s ultimate hope was that kids of a certain generation would be as traumatized by the Gentlemen as he was by the Zuni Doll from Trilogy of Terror. The team cast mimes and actors who had done creature work—like Doug Jones—to play the Gentlemen.

22. THE HARDEST CHARACTER FOR WHEDON TO KILL OFF WAS BUFFY’S MOM.

One of Buffy‘s most critically acclaimed episodes is season five’s “The Body,” in which the slayer’s mom, played by Kristine Sutherland, dies of natural causes. Whedon said in a 2012 Reddit AMA that Joyce was the toughest character for him to kill. He did the episode, he said in DVD commentary, because “I wanted to show not the meaning or catharsis or the beauty of life or any of the things that are often associated with loss, or even extreme grief, which we do get in the episode. But what I did want to capture was the extreme physicality, the almost boredom of the very first few hours. I wanted to be very specific about what it felt like the moment you discover you’ve lost someone. And so what appears to many people as a formal exercise—no music, scenes that take up almost the entire act, if not the entire act, without end—is all done for a very specific purpose, which is to put you in that moment of dumbfounded shock, that airlessness of losing somebody.”

The moments after Buffy discovers her mother dead on the couch were done in a single take, which Whedon had Gellar perform seven times (the actress has called the episode one of her favorites). “The cameraman had the camera on his shoulder the whole time and was running around,” Whedon said. “It wasn’t a steadicam—he had no harness because I wanted that urgency of handheld, that you’re in the moment of it. It’s an extraordinary piece of acting from Sarah … to go from the extremity of first finding her, the helplessness of not knowing what to do. All the things that Sarah had to go through in this, she had to go through many, many times. And every take was extraordinary.”

23. ONE SHOT IN “THE BODY” WAS INSPIRED BY DIRECTOR PAUL THOMAS ANDERSON.

One shot in “The Body” follows the coroner after he examines Joyce’s body out to where Buffy waits with her friends in another single take. “I am a huge Paul Thomas Anderson fan,” Whedon said, “and I had been watching Magnolia excessively before I shot this. So these endless tracking shots probably owe something to that. What can I say, I’m a hack. But what I was really trying to get at here was, again, the reality of the space. I wanted to see Joyce very clearly, and then I wanted to walk all the way over to where Buffy was, where her loved ones were, so that you understood she was down the hall, she was really there. We weren’t on a different set.” Whedon gave kudos to production designer Carey Meyer for building sets that would let him get those long takes.

24. GELLAR KNEW WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IN SEASON FIVE WELL IN ADVANCE.

Several moments in the final episode of season three foreshadowed two major events in season five: Namely, that Buffy would get a sister (Dawn, played by Michelle Trachtenberg) and that the slayer would die at the end of season five. “I’ve actually known the [plot of the] entire last season for about three years,” she told the BBC. “There was a dream sequence that Buffy had with Faith. Faith had a riddle, and it was something like ‘Little Miss Muffet, sitting on her tuffet,’ counting down from whatever the numbers were, and I went to Joss to ask what it meant. That’s when he explained to me that I was going to have a sister, that Dawn, the character of Dawn, would be coming on the show. I think that’s exactly when I became aware also of what the future plans were.”

Why manufacture a sister out of thin air? “Part of the mission statement was, let’s have a really important, intense emotional relationship for Buffy that is not a boyfriend,” he told Salon. “Because let’s not have her be defined by her boyfriend every time out of the bat. So, Season 5, she’s as intense as she was in Season 2 with Angelus, but it’s about her sister. To me that was really beautiful.”

25. SEASON SIX WAS THE TOUGHEST FOR GELLAR.

After the fifth season, Buffy moved from the WB to UPN and resurrected its heroine for the sixth season—which was darker in tone (and more controversial) than any season before it. “It was definitely tough for me,” Gellar said at a Paley Center event in 2008. “It’s so hard to separate myself from her, so it was tough for me to see these situations and say ‘But Buffy wouldn’t do this.’ … I know Joss and Marti both had to talk me off a ledge a couple of times because it just felt so far removed from me at the time, and maybe that was the point. Maybe I was struggling the same way she was struggling to find out who she was. It just felt so foreign to me. … We love her, and I think it was hard for all of us to watch her suffer. … It was a tough time. And I think that’s what came through in the end, and that was great. When Buffy herself resurfaced, we sort of found our voice again.”

26. WRITER/PRODUCER MARTI NOXON HAS A CAMEO.

She’s the lady with the parking ticket in “Once More, With Feeling.”

27. GELLAR CALLED THE MUSICAL EPISODE “DAUNTING.”

“I’m a perfectionist, I come from a long line of lots of preparation, and certainly that was not the case with this,” she said. “If I had my druthers, we would have gotten it about two years ago and been in classes for a year and a half, maybe six weeks of rehearsals? Instead of four days.” At a Paley Center event in 2008, Gellar admitted to “begging” to be let out of it. “I begged for Buffy the rat,” she said. “I kept thinking, ‘Bring the rat back.’”

28. STONE TEMPLE PILOTS’ LEAD SINGER WAS A FAN.

Scott Weiland reportedly became a fan while watching the show in prison. Gellar, who later appeared in the band’s music video for “Sour Girl,” had a theory about why the show was so popular among prison inmates: “Hot chicks doing battle. It’s like acceptable porn.”

29. GELLAR KNEW THE SHOW WAS OVER BEFORE THE REST OF THE CAST.

In the March 7, 2003 Entertainment Weekly cover story, Gellar announced that Buffy was coming to an end after seven seasons. “I love this job, I love the fans,” she said. “I love telling the stories we tell. This isn’t about leaving for a career in movies, or in theater—it’s more of a personal decision. I need a rest. Teachers get sabbaticals. Actors don’t.” The rest of the cast found out the day the story hit stands. “I was devastated,” Hannigan said in 2013. “I was just very shocked.”

30. BUFFY’S ADVENTURES CONTINUE IN COMIC BOOKS.

A number of writers who worked on the TV show have also worked on the comics. Even James Marsters, who played vampire Spike on the show, wrote a comic about his character. “I was at the San Diego Comic Con and I was describing an idea that had been kicking around my head for a long time to [artist] George Jeanty, who draws a lot of the Buffy comic books,” Marsters told io9. “And he thought that it was a fabulous idea and that I should definitely get in touch with [Dark Horse editor] Scott Allie. He made the phone call and then I pitched it to Scott over the phone and Scott liked it a lot. It’s a story that was going to try to be made into a Spike movie years and years ago.”

31. THERE WAS TALK OF AN ANIMATED SERIES.

Whedon and the show’s other writers produced seven scripts for an animated Buffy series, which would have taken place during the show’s first three seasons and been voiced by the cast. Sadly, no one wanted the show. “They were really fun to write,” Whedon said. “We could not sell the show. We could not sell an animated Buffy, which I still find incomprehensible.”

32. THE SHOW SPAWNED ACADEMIC COURSES…

A number of colleges and universities offer courses on the show; they’re called “Buffy Studies.” People have written books and held conferences dedicated to discussing the themes of the show and presenting papers on it. According to the Los Angeles Times, attendees at a 2004 Buffy conference “were presenting 190 papers on topics ranging from ‘slayer slang’ to ‘postmodern reflections on the culture of consumption’ to ‘Buffy and the new American Buddhism.’ There was even a self-conscious talk by David Lavery, an English professor at Middle Tennessee State University, on Buffy studies ‘as an academic cult.'”

An informal study conducted by Slate in 2012 showed that, when it comes to pop culture in academia, Buffy is number one: “More than twice as many papers, essays, and books have been devoted to the vampire drama than any of our other choices—so many that we stopped counting when we hit 200.”

33. … AND A BOOK OF SLANG.

Publisher’s Weekly called Slayer Slang: A Buffy the Vampire Slayer Lexicon “a strange marriage of a fan guide and a linguistics textbook.” Said The Kansas City Star: “If you’re curious about the word ‘ubersuck,’ or just want to remember which episode you first heard it in, this is the place to look. As Buffy would say, it is not uncool.”

BONUS: RARE BEHIND-THE-SCENES FOOTAGE

During the second season, Pruitt filmed behind-the-scenes footage of the cast goofing off and getting into makeup, the stunt crew at work, and some of the show’s most iconic sequences. You can watch it above.

Additional sources: DVD commentary; The Watcher’s Guide.

All images courtesy of Getty Images unless otherwise noted.

This piece originally ran in 2014.

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