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primusliber-traduzioni · 11 months

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Trophy Eyes - Suicide and Sunshine, traduzione testi

La vita è ingiusta ma è quasi finita

Morire costa meno che diventare grandi

(da: People Like You)

1. Trophy Eyes – Sydney, traduzione

Sydney

Mi sono innamorato di questa città d’inverno

Quando tutti quanti se ne vanno in cerca di climi più caldi

Ho lasciato il mio amore per poterci stare assieme

E andavo a visitare i monumenti per cercare di consolarla

Mi incammino lungo Elizabeth Street sotto i platani spogli

Cercando qualcuno che mi riconosca

Almeno posso sentire la mia voce per la prima volta dopo settimane

Potete andare a casa adesso, le band hanno finito

Ma io sono per sempre a casa mia su queste strade di Sydney

2. Trophy Eyes – Life in Slow Motion, traduzione

La vita al rallentatore

Numeri fortunati, segni esistenziali

Piccole superstizioni che mi tengono in vita

Prego il vuoto che mi conceda un po’ di tempo in più da passare da solo in hotel mentre la vita scorre

E nel caos io ci trovo pace e tranquillità

Nulla ha alcun significato, sono sempre stanco

Un lampo di colori prima di spirare

Un semplice abbraccio al bar, una delle tante voci nel coro

Ed è difficile da spiegare, ma mi sento così

Come se mi guardassi vivere la vita fuori dal mio corpo

Mi tengo forte mentre la vita vista dal mio posto lato finestrino va avanti

Tutto è destinato a passare

Mi tengo forte ai secondi di vita al rallentatore

Tutto è destinato a passare

Ecco che arriva il ritornello della mattina, a volumi spietati e travolgenti

Dammi la mano e addentrati con me nella gloria della mia fine

Io sono una nullità, ma è pur sempre qualcosa, no?

Mi tengo forte mentre la vita vista dal mio posto lato finestrino va avanti

Tutto è destinato a passare

Mi tengo forte ai secondi di vita al rallentatore

Tutto è destinato a passare

Nel caos io ci trovo pace e tranquillità

Nulla ha alcun significato, sono sempre stanco

Un lampo di colori prima di spirare

Un semplice abbraccio al bar, una delle tante voci nel coro

Ed è difficile da spiegare, ma mi sento così

Come se mi guardassi vivere la vita fuori dal mio corpo

Tutto è destinato a passare

Mi tengo forte mentre la vita vista dal mio posto lato finestrino va avanti

Tutto è destinato a passare

Mi tengo forte ai secondi di vita al rallentatore

Tutto è destinato a passare

3. Trophy Eyes – People Like You, traduzione

Le persone come te

Domande senza alcuna risposta

Troppo giovane per capirlo

Il mondo non è fatto per quelli come te

Tipico caso di mani vuote

Per cui prenditela coi bambini

E mandali in classe a spiegare un occhio nero

Le mani ti sudano nei pantaloni

Sguardo fisso a terra mentre loro ti guardano le scarpe bucate

Cancro, sciagura domestica

Hai imparato a stare con le mani in alto perché è quello che ti hanno insegnato a fare

Vorrei essere come tutti gli altri

Essere tutto tranne che me stesso

È facile la vita se sei bello

(La vita è ingiusta ma è quasi finita

Morire costa meno che diventare grandi)

Se non posso essere te, allora fottiti

È vuota la vita con le tasche piene

(La vita è ingiusta ma è quasi finita

Morire costa meno che diventare grandi)

Così ti dicono – fottetevi

Ti ho lasciato che mi salutavi dallo specchietto retrovisore

In piedi alla porta sentendomi dire “ora non può più farti del male”

Cibo del fast food avvolto nella carta bianca e nera del giornale

Mangiato per terra nel trilocale per quattro che abbiamo affittato

Vorrei vivere come tutti gli altri

Essere tutto tranne che me stesso

Con le facce sorridenti di una foto di famiglia accanto ai trofei sulla mensola

Vorrei vivere come tutti gli altri

Essere tutto tranne che me stesso

È facile la vita se sei bello

(La vita è ingiusta ma è quasi finita

Morire costa meno che diventare grandi)

Se non posso essere te, allora fottiti

È vuota la vita con le tasche piene

(La vita è ingiusta ma è quasi finita

Morire costa meno che diventare grandi)

Così ti dicono – fottetevi

(La vita è ingiusta ma è quasi finita

Morire costa meno che diventare grandi

La vita è ingiusta ma è quasi finita

Morire costa meno che diventare grandi)

È facile la vita se sei bello

(La vita è ingiusta ma è quasi finita

Morire costa meno che diventare grandi)

Se non posso essere te, allora fottiti

È vuota la vita con le tasche piene

(La vita è ingiusta ma è quasi finita

Morire costa meno che diventare grandi)

Così ti dicono – fottetevi

4. Trophy Eyes – My Inheritance, traduzione

La mia eredità

Ce l’ho in mente, lo sentivo in continuazione

Carne sprecata per un piano grandioso

Illuminato dai LED, voltato di spalle

Una sagoma è quello che vedo

Non volevo che ereditassi il modo in cui sono cresciuto

Ho qualcosa che non va io

Adesso hai qualcosa che non va tu

E noi cosa siamo se non le cose che facciamo?

L’ennesimo weekend passato sul letto col fiato sospeso

L’angolo della stanza resta il mio punto di vista

Un’altra notte che ho superato a fatica

L’ennesimo weekend passato sul letto col fiato sospeso

Mi sveglio con la luce del lampione in strada che mi divide in due la stanza

E al buio appartengo ancora a te

Hai fatto il meglio che potevi con quello che avevi

Sarai così pessimo per questa cosa?

E so che dovrei, ma non ce la faccio a richiamarti

Spero che lo capisci

Non volevo che ereditassi il modo in cui sono cresciuto

Ho qualcosa che non va io

Adesso hai qualcosa che non va tu

E noi cosa siamo se non le cose che facciamo?

L’ennesimo weekend passato sul letto col fiato sospeso

L��angolo della stanza resta il mio punto di vista

Un’altra notte che ho superato a fatica

L’ennesimo weekend passato sul letto col fiato sospeso

Mi sveglio con la luce del lampione in strada che mi divide in due la stanza

E al buio appartengo ancora a te

Vorrei riuscire a volerti bene

E vorrei che fossi morto

E vorrei riuscire a volerti bene

E vorrei che fossi morto

E vorrei riuscire a volerti bene

E vorrei che fossi morto

L’ennesimo weekend passato sul letto col fiato sospeso

L’angolo della stanza resta il mio punto di vista

Un’altra notte che ho superato a fatica

L’ennesimo weekend passato sul letto col fiato sospeso

Mi sveglio con la luce del lampione in strada che mi divide in due la stanza

E al buio appartengo ancora a te

5. Trophy Eyes – Blue Eyed Boy, traduzione

Ragazzo con gli occhi azzurri

In corridoio, la prima sulla destra

Bussa perché si chiude a chiave

E noi non lo vediamo più

Neanche il tempo di accorgermi e sono di nuovo qua

Darei indietro qualsiasi cosa per evitare che succedesse

Perché guardandoti non riesco proprio a vedere il mio amico

Ascoltami bene, fidati di me

Te lo chiedo da tuo migliore amico

Questa cosa che hai combinato la posso sistemare

Perché questo ragazzo con gli occhi azzurri io non lo voglio vedere morto

Ascoltami bene, fidati di me

Te lo chiedo da tuo migliore amico

La situazione è peggio di quello che pensi

E questo ragazzo con gli occhi azzurri io non lo voglio vedere morto

E giù col fumo

Finestra chiusa, mi fa soffocare

Nasconditi dietro le tue solite battutine

Ma io lo vedo che ti sei piegato e spezzato

E non abbiamo ricordi nuovi

Parliamo continuamente di quando eravamo adolescenti

Non ti suggerisce nulla questa cosa?

Ah, che dolore questa puntura

Io morirei comunque per te, ma non per me

Credici, le ho provate tutte

Ascoltami bene, fidati di me

Te lo chiedo da tuo migliore amico

Questa cosa che hai combinato la posso sistemare

Perché questo ragazzo con gli occhi azzurri io non lo voglio vedere morto

Ascoltami bene, fidati di me

Te lo chiedo da tuo migliore amico

La situazione è peggio di quello che pensi

E questo ragazzo con gli occhi azzurri io non lo voglio vedere morto

Io morirei comunque per te, ma non per me

Credici, le ho provate tutte

Fallo per te stesso se non per me

Ma non vedi?

Ti ha portato via tutto quanto

6. Trophy Eyes – Runaway, Come Home, traduzione

Fuggitivo, torna a casa

È lì che ho finito la strada

Ci ho lasciato un pezzetto della mia anima

Guasto, torno a casa

Mamma, la vita non mi ha trattato bene

Devo andare veloce, non mi posso fermare qua

Non ho tempo di prendere fiato

Non pensavo di ritrovarmi da solo

Non pensavo mi spaccasse la schiena

Non dire nulla, non dire nulla

Avevo solo bisogno di sentire la tua voce

Resta sempre col desiderio di vedere il tuo bambino

Perché sono via da tanto di quel tempo che vedo a malapena la tua faccia

E ora sei soltanto una fotografia che ho tenuto per prendere il tuo posto

Con quello che gli anni mi hanno fatto, sono lo stesso l’uomo che dicevi che sarei diventato?

Perché sono via da tanto di quel tempo che vedo a malapena la tua faccia

Fuggitivo, torna a casa

Il tempo scorre continuamente

Come due barche a vela di notte: senza far rumore, fuori dalla visuale

Mi riconoscerai ancora?

Perché tendo a uccidere il bene che tu hai instillato

Non dire nulla, non dire nulla

Avevo solo bisogno di sentire la tua voce

Resta sempre col desiderio di vedere il tuo bambino

Perché sono via da tanto di quel tempo che vedo a malapena la tua faccia

E ora sei soltanto una fotografia che ho tenuto per prendere il tuo posto

Con quello che gli anni mi hanno fatto, sono lo stesso l’uomo che dicevi che sarei diventato?

Perché sono via da tanto di quel tempo che vedo a malapena la tua faccia

Fuggitivo, torna a casa

Con quello che gli anni mi hanno fatto, sono lo stesso l’uomo che dicevi che sarei diventato?

Perché sono via da tanto di quel tempo che vedo a malapena la tua faccia

Fuggitivo, torna a casa

7. Trophy Eyes – Burden, traduzione

Peso

Girami sul fianco e liberami le vie respiratorie

E guardami steso in mezzo al disastro che ho fatto

Non temere per me: lo faccio per sentire qualcosa

Ti chiedo, dalle piastrelle del pavimento del bagno, se hai tempo per venire a salvarmi la vita

Se sei impegnata non ti preoccupare

8. Trophy Eyes – Sean, traduzione

Sean

Abbiamo beccato tutti i semafori rossi andando dalle persone che ti sei lasciato indietro

C’è qualcosa che proprio non c’entra tra il suicidio e il sole che brilla

Hit parade alla radio, la mente che corre ma noi ci muoviamo lentissimi

Quell’odore familiare di quando è morto un amico non appena sono arrivato

Il messaggio che hai lasciato sullo specchio accanto al letto è arrivato a destinazione

Hai chiesto di nuovo scusa, come facevi fin troppo spesso

E stavolta non va affatto bene, ma ti perdono

Adesso tiro entrambi i lati cercando di coprire il buco che hai lasciato

Dico a tutti che andrà tutto bene anche se non è per niente vero

E non ce le avrò mai le parole per dire quanto eri importante, per cui evito

Ancora un altro volo, amico mio, e sarai a casa

La prima cosa che ho pensato quando ho sentito che ti eri tolto la vita è che stavo per fare la figura dell’idiota per aver parlato a sproposito

Perché l’ultima cosa che avevo detto quando c’eri ancora era “lo fai solo per cercare attenzione, altrimenti ormai ti saresti già ammazzato”

Il messaggio che hai lasciato sullo specchio accanto al letto è arrivato a destinazione

Hai chiesto di nuovo scusa, come facevi fin troppo spesso

E stavolta non va affatto bene, ma ti perdono

Adesso tiro entrambi i lati cercando di coprire il buco che hai lasciato

Dico a tutti che andrà tutto bene anche se non è per niente vero

E non ce le avrò mai le parole per dire quanto eri importante, per cui evito

Ancora un altro volo, amico mio, e sarai a casa

E continuo a pensare di vederti salire quegli scalini

Sorridendo, facendo scorrere le dita tra i capelli

E qua nessuno ha detto granché da quando hai fatto quello che hai fatto

Perché se non parliamo allora non sei veramente morto

Adesso tiro entrambi i lati cercando di coprire il buco che hai lasciato

Dico a tutti che andrà tutto bene anche se non è per niente vero

E non ce le avrò mai le parole per dire quanto eri importante, per cui evito

Ancora un altro volo, amico mio, e sarai a casa

E continuo a pensare di vederti salire quegli scalini

Sorridendo, facendo scorrere le dita tra i capelli

E qua nessuno ha detto granché da quando hai fatto quello che hai fatto

Perché se non parliamo allora non sei veramente morto

9. Trophy Eyes – What Hurts the Most, traduzione

Quello che fa più male

È una sensazione fuori dal senso comune

Come se stessi sanguinando ma senza che ce ne siano le prove

È un motivo che spinge a staccare questi punti di sutura

A chiamare di nuovo per chiederti come stai

Mentiamo, bariamo

Rubiamo le cose di cui abbiamo bisogno per diventare quelli che dovremmo essere

Ma tu hai qualcosa che non riesco a non apprezzare

Cosa penseresti se mi vedessi ora?

Non mi sembra di essere cambiato finché non penso a quando eravamo fratelli

A quando ci pareva di aver tutto chiaro

Dove li nascondi quegli anni con me?

O forse mi hai eliminato completamente?

Quando eravamo fratelli

Quando ci pareva di aver tutto chiaro

È una foto del giorno del matrimonio di tuo fratello

Una testimonianza del fatto che il bene una strada la trova sempre

Sono i tuoi figli che so che non conoscerò mai

Ma la cosa che fa più male è che per me ha anche senso

E mi tormenta ancora il fatto che mentivi con tutta quella naturalezza

Pensare che io ti credevo fa un male cane

Mi fai venire da odiarmi da solo, cazzo

Ma è proprio quello che volevi

Cambi pelle facilissimamente

Avevo le coperte ancora freddine quando ti ci sei infilato

E ti domandi ancora dove sono finito

Cosa penseresti se mi vedessi ora?

Non mi sembra di essere cambiato finché non penso a quando eravamo fratelli

A quando ci pareva di aver tutto chiaro

Dove li nascondi quegli anni con me?

O forse mi hai eliminato completamente?

Quando eravamo fratelli

Quando ci pareva di aver tutto chiaro

Mentiamo, bariamo

Rubiamo le cose di cui abbiamo bisogno per diventare quelli che dovremmo essere

Ma tu hai qualcosa che non riesco a non apprezzare

Cosa penseresti se mi vedessi ora?

Non mi sembra di essere cambiato finché non penso a quando eravamo fratelli

A quando ci pareva di aver tutto chiaro

Dove li nascondi quegli anni con me?

O forse mi hai eliminato completamente?

Quando eravamo fratelli

Quando ci pareva di aver tutto chiaro

10. Trophy Eyes – OMW, traduzione

OMW

In cammino

Comincio dal fondo come dicono

E comincio a vedere dei cambiamenti

Potrei diventare uno che ti merita un giorno

In cammino

Occhio a quello che cerchi che magari trovi me

Tu per me vuoi la pace interiore

Quello che posso offrirti è un po’ di serenità

Ci arriverò, andrà tutto bene

Alla fine si è risolto tutto per il meglio, ma io voglio morire lo stesso

In cammino

Le scuse poco sincere lasciano macchie che non vengono lavate via dalle promesse non mantenute

È sempre a causa mia che tu soffri

Scappa

Occhio a quello che cerchi che magari trovi me

Tu per me vuoi la pace interiore

Quello che posso offrirti è un po’ di serenità

Ci arriverò, andrà tutto bene

Alla fine si è risolto tutto per il meglio, ma io voglio morire lo stesso

In cammino

Cerco il cambiamento per vedere quello che tu vedi in me

In cammino

Spezzo la catena

In cammino

Per vedere quello che tu vedi in me

Tu per me vuoi la pace interiore

Quello che posso offrirti è un po’ di serenità

Ci arriverò, andrà tutto bene

Alla fine si è risolto tutto per il meglio, ma io voglio morire lo stesso

Tienimi integro, va un po’ meglio

Tienimi integro, va un po’ meglio adesso

Ci arriverò, andrà tutto bene

Alla fine si è risolto tutto per il meglio, ma io voglio morire lo stesso

In cammino

Cerco il cambiamento per vedere quello che tu vedi in me

In cammino

Spezzo la catena

In cammino

Per vedere quello che tu vedi in me

11. Trophy Eyes – Kill, traduzione

Uccidere

Hanno detto tutti che tu non andavi bene per me

Però sei davvero carina quando menti spudoratamente

E fa male che è un piacere quando mi lasci soltanto le ossa

Già, poteva finire davvero male se tu avessi qualche importanza per me

Comincia a venirmi il sospetto che arriverò a pentirmene

Di quei giorni che ho passato a letto con te a raccontarti certi segreti in amicizia

Usami come un giocattolo

Se non puoi averlo tu allora non lo può avere nessuno

A volte amiamo le cose che uccidiamo

Resta, mio piccolo errore

Ragazza che ha urlato per un cuore spezzato di cui non sei capace

A volte uccidiamo le cose che amiamo

Vergine nei confronti della verità

Due punti di vista diversi

Ripetitelo nella mente finché non arrivi a pensare che sia vero

Ce l’hai messa tutta per lasciarmi una ferita profonda, che cosa tenera

Se per questo motivo io sono il diavolo, allora tu cosa sei?

Ho ricevuto la mia sentenza

Imparato ad accettarla

Temo per la tua coscienza

Ma poi esisterà davvero?

Usami come un giocattolo

Se non puoi averlo tu allora non lo può avere nessuno

A volte amiamo le cose che uccidiamo

Resta, mio piccolo errore

Ragazza che ha urlato per un cuore spezzato di cui non sei capace

A volte uccidiamo le cose che amiamo

Mandato dal cielo

Non devi amarmi tu

Non sei tu la persona a cui penso

Mandato dal cielo

Non devi amarmi tu

Non sei tu la persona a cui penso

Mandato dal cielo

Non devi amarmi tu

Non sei tu la persona a cui penso

Mandato dal cielo

12. Trophy Eyes – Sweet Soft Sound, traduzione

Suono dolce e delicato

Il fuoco incontra la cera alla morte di questa candela

E il fumo si protende verso il tetto

I miei occhi si abituano al vuoto della vita

E il giorno si trasforma in una sfumatura scura di blu

Rido pensando alle probabilità che c’erano di nascere nello stesso momento

Figurati di trovarci qui nella mia stanza

Ed è proprio da me mettermi a macinare numeri quando potrei semplicemente stare qui con te

Avvolta nelle falde di un vestito color marmo bianco

È difficile convincersi che esisti davvero

Di’ un po’, cosa si prova?

Io ci vedo il senso della vita nei tuoi occhi

È come nuotare nell’oceano di notte

E quando sono con te mi sembra di prendere fuoco

Non esiste nient’altro se non me e le linee del tuo sorriso

Portami qui quel suono dolce e delicato

Il mio nome che brilla quando esce dalla tua bocca

Riempimi l’anima di te

Un giorno il tuo guscio appassirà e i tuoi capelli di cioccolato diventeranno bianchi

Io ce la metterò tutta per esserci ancora qui con te

Ma nei miei confronti sono stato poco gentile

Per cui finché ci sono ancora, voglio dirti che nel tempo che ho a disposizione mi basta che quando ripensi al passato nei tuoi ultimi istanti, ci vedi una vita bellissima

Il peso della mia vita me lo sono lasciato alle spalle

E davanti adesso ci sei solo tu

Vieni anche tu?

Dimmi che vieni anche tu

Io ci vedo il senso della vita nei tuoi occhi

È come nuotare nell’oceano di notte

E quando sono con te mi sembra di prendere fuoco

Non esiste nient’altro se non me e le linee del tuo sorriso

Portami qui quel suono dolce e delicato

Il mio nome che brilla quando esce dalla tua bocca

Riempimi l’anima di te

13. Trophy Eyes – Stay Here, traduzione

Resta

Guardi le ombre che inseguono le luci sulla strada

Sul bordo del marciapiede, senti le macchine sui vestiti

Basterebbe un passo per strapparti la pelle dalle ossa

Ci sei ancora, non interessa a nessuno

Sprofondi in un vortice di pensieri che ti dimentichi dove ti trovi

Niente di buono arriva mai fino a queste profondità

Ti spaventi pensando a cosa ti toglie l’oscurità

Ci sei? Siediti a guardare

Devastato, guardo il mio sostituto

Io non ci sono mai riuscito a farti sorridere così, così, così, così

Talmente vicino da assaporarlo

Io non ci sono mai riuscito a farti sorridere così, così, così, così

Ce l’ho messa tutta, ma questo posto non fa per me

Prendetevi tutto il resto, lasciatemi la mia dignità

E lasciate che me ne vada

La sfumatura di azzurro che ti piace tanto nel tardo pomeriggio

Le tende che si staccano dal muro ballando in camera tua

Se te ne vai ora, non ci terrà nessuno come fai tu

Ci sei ancora, persevera

Devastato, guardo il mio sostituto

Io non ci sono mai riuscito a farti sorridere così, così, così, così

Talmente vicino da assaporarlo

Io non ci sono mai riuscito a farti sorridere così, così, così, così

Ce l’ho messa tutta, ma questo posto non fa per me

Risparmiate il fiato che tanto non ci credo

Ce l’ho messa tutta, ma questo posto non fa per me

Prendetevi tutto il resto, lasciatemi la mia dignità

E lasciate che me ne vada

Talmente intento a cercare qualche buon motivo per restare che te li perdi quando ti si presentano davanti agli occhi tutti i giorni

Se te ne vai ora non fai che passare ad altri il tuo dolore

Resta qui

14. Trophy Eyes – Epilogue, traduzione

Epilogo

Se potessi tornare indietro nel tempo

Tappeti sudici e luci fluorescenti

Abbiamo suonato a volumi così alti che mi fischiano ancora le orecchie di notte

Un souvenir dagli anni più belli della mia vita

Dove se ne va tutto questo quando noi non ci siamo più?

Sangue, sudore e lacrime, denti scheggiati dal microfono

Ho sputato sangue per voi perché voi avete creduto in me

Io sono fatto così, è quello che abbiamo in comune dentro

E che vista spettacolare che ho avuto di voi

Che ho avuto di voi, avuto di voi

E io non volevo morire nella città in cui ero nato

Guardatemi ora, guardatemi ora

E quello che volevo era rendervi orgogliosi

È per voi ora, è tutto quanto per voi ora

L’unica costante è il cambiamento

Cambiamento significa perdita, ed è sempre seguito dal dolore

Quando ricordiamo, non è mai la stessa cosa

È come ho detto: “se ne va tutto quanto”

E ci sono ancora delle cose che devo fare

Spero di avervi fatti divertire

Spero di avervi fatti divertire, fatti divertire

E io non volevo morire nella città in cui ero nato

Guardatemi ora, guardatemi ora

E quello che volevo era rendervi orgogliosi

È per voi ora, è tutto quanto per voi ora

Quello che mi dispiace è che non avete mai avuto modo di vedervi da dove sono io

E io non volevo morire nella città in cui ero nato

Guardatemi ora, guardatemi ora

E quello che volevo era rendervi orgogliosi

È per voi ora, è tutto quanto per voi ora

L’unica cosa che mi dispiace è che non avete mai avuto modo di mettervi al mio posto e vedervi da dove sono io

Che vista spettacolare che ho avuto di voi

#trophy eyes #suicide and sunshine #sydney #life in slow motion #people like you #my inheritance #blue eyed boy #runaway come home #burden #sean #what hurts the most #omw #kill #sweet soft sound #stay here #epilogue

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betterlifeinoverall-rethabilep · 2 years

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Overthinking Is Self-Sabotage

Overthinking Is Self-Sabotage In Slow Motion!! Notably, To Become A Warrior, You Must Kill You Tears!!! Like, Shares and Follow Please don’t forget to comment

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#Become A Warrior #Book Readings #Dry Your Tears #Emotional intelligence #Evidence In Holy Bible #Holy Bible Readings #Kill Your Tears Before They Kill You #Otherthinking Is Self-Sabotage #Overthinking Is Self-Sabotage In Slow Motion #Self-Discovery #Stop Depression Via Otherthinking #Stop Homicide #Stop Overthinking #Stop Suicide

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abtrusion · 2 months

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Tranny Tango

There's a man on the sidewalk, looking over, then up to see me walking past. He stops in his tracks and stutters back and forth, his read || reaction to me flickering between upstart woman // taller man || hold ground // make space, glitching him in place. When I step off the sidewalk and into the grass, he sheepishly passes me by without a word.

I'm interested in the everyday glitches, the double-takes, the way "everybody is just a little bit disgusted by you," what Susan Stryker calls 'monstrosity' and more than that, the casual experience of being a gaping hole in the gendered world. Stryker attributes this monstrosity to the idea that medical transsexuality, more than any other form of transgenderism, "represents the prospect of destabilizing the foundational presupposition of fixed genders." She takes anti-trans feminists at their word, assuming that their hate stems from some abstract gender trouble that transsexuals pose to female spaces, and her solution is a near-complete identification with that trouble. We can do better. This monstrosity, this glitching, is not just a downstream consequence of spectacular interruptions to some abstract 'fixed genders.' It is certainly not dependent on some unique threat posed by medicalization. It exists through instinctive disgust and constant little glitches in the social infrastructure that is gender, an uneasy response to an uncanny bricolage of the building blocks of gendered life.

Escaping the Cisgender Gaze

The classic trans encounter is to see a visibly transfeminine person out on the street, or as an escort, or in some carefully-curated performance piece, and to realize that gender is a lie. This is part of the utility of transmisogyny, which renders people both constantly accessible and utterly exemplary, and in turn this casts transmisogyny itself as spectacular exclusion instead of a slow social and economic death that sometimes spikes, particularly with multiply marginalized subjects, into horrific violence.

This singularization of transfeminine life and oppression (particularly with trans women of color) through suicide and murder statistics renders both trans life and pain spectacular and implicitly places one as a 'natural' consequence of the other. We need to seriously inspect the many interactions between non-passing transfem people and cis people which do not end with one of them dead. One way to start is Sandra Lee Bartky's understanding of hegemonic femininity as a disciplinary practice.

Femininity as Disciplinary Practice

As the lesbian separatists of the 1970s and 80s intensified the work of rooting out patriarchy from their spaces, they began to discover that nothing was sacred: nearly all everyday social activities were shaped by gender. As Bartky argues, the 'imposition of such discipline on female identity' influences every second of every day:

Iris Young observes that a space seems to surround women in imagination that they are hesitant to move beyond: this manifests itself both in a reluctance to reach, stretch, and extend the body to meet resistances of matter in motion—as in sport or in the performance of physical tasks—and in a typically constricted posture and general style of movement. In an extraordinary series of over two thousand photographs, many candid shots taken in the street, the German photographer Marianne Wex has documented differences in typical masculine and feminine body posture. Women sit waiting for trains with arms close to the body, hands folded together in their laps, toes pointing straight ahead or turned inward, and legs pressed together. The women in these photographs make themselves small and narrow, harmless; they seem tense; they take up little space. Men, on the other hand, expand into the available space; they sit with legs far apart and arms flung out at some distance from the body. Most common in these sitting male figures is what Wex calls the “proffering position”: the men sit with legs thrown wide apart, crotch visible, feet pointing outward, often with an arm and a casually dangling hand resting comfortably on an open, spread thigh. …in a way that normally goes unnoticed, males in couples may literally steer a woman everywhere she goes: down the street, around corners, into elevators, through doorways, into her chair at the dinner table, around the dance floor. The man’s movement “is not necessarily heavy and pushy or physical in an ugly way; it is light and gentle but firm in the way of the most confident equestrians with the best trained horses.”

Bartky concludes that, between behavior and makeup and skin-care, these disciplinary practices "produce a 'practiced and subjected' body, that is, a body on which an inferior status has been inscribed,” and that "the practices that construct this body have an overt aim and character far removed, indeed, radically distinct, from their covert function;" that is, she claims that gender is everywhere, that it is power, and that cisgender women are structurally made unaware of this connection.

What does this mean for transfeminine experience? First, as seen in the sidewalk example we started with (so chosen precisely because of how fucking boring it is), the abstract 'genderfuck' of transfeminine existence congeals into actual examples in the context of gender-as-infrastructure. Gender is a crossing-guard, a gatekeeper, a reviewer -- it performs social functions, all the time, which glitch and shake in our presence. Transmisogyny is not necessarily vitriolic rage at 'boundary-breakers,' it can also just be the passive exclusion of a person whose existence causes a few too many little frictions.

As we've noted, the singularization of transfeminine life makes non-spectacular trans life impossible for cis people to understand, leading to a constant current of disgust/disdain that accompanies their more exciting bouts of transmisogyny. One major inlet to this current is social friction, the way that non-passing transfems are structurally prevented from using social/visual gender infrastructures to do everyday things. The second inlet, which I will discuss in the next section, is the unease provoked by the negotiations transfems take to navigate gendered systems despite this breakage, making small corrections which are ignored, must be ignored, leaving only the horrible lingering fear that they're better at this gender thing than you.

Gender work

Because transfemininity makes no sense from a vulgar gender-power perspective, cis people generally view transfeminine people as either unwitting 'dupes' of gender or as spectacular hyper-aware gender predators, as seen across the HSTS/AGP split, the dead tranny/serial killer media split, the 'scheming eunuch' archetype, and the binarization of transfem identity in queer spaces. But because cis people also generally want to assume that they're talking to someone that isn't an evil serial manipulator, personal interactions encourage and enforce the good tranny archetype, which demands absolute suppression of any sort of informed gender negotiation. This archetype is impossible to fulfill because of the systematic failure of social gender-power infrastructure to account for transfeminine people, which demands some degree of semi-intentional gender work to fill in the gaps.

Fortunately, this work will basically never be understood as such by well-meaning cis people because of transmisogyny, so you don't have to be /super/ subtle about it. Unfortunately, ignoring this transfeminine gender work takes a lot of effort on the part of cis people, particularly if they also have had to perform reparative gender work because of trans-adjacent conditions (divorce, infertility, lesbianism, PCOS). The invisible work cis people must make to keep themselves separate from transfeminine people is then associated with our presence, most clearly articulated in Janice Raymond's lament that transsexual lesbians are feeding "off woman’s true energy source, i.e., her woman-identified self" -- our proximity alone demands intense effort to keep cis gender negotiations distinct from trans ones, growing frustrations that feed the slow current of transmisogyny.

Even if a cis person successfully suppresses their understanding of transfeminine gender work, for folks within queer & women's spaces, this itself leads to a horrible looming anxiety because people in these spaces usually pride themselves on having a full consciousness of gender, and we're a pretty notable exception to that. These anxieties are then channeled into a constant fear of the bad tranny, manifested in the horrible trans woman that your cis queer initiators will tell you to stay far away from. But there is really not much of a difference between the shadowy machinations of the bad tranny and the gender work transfeminine people have to constantly perform to even exist within queer spaces, so transfeminine people are rendered constantly precarious.

What's so deliciously ironic about all this is that this is just a shallow repetition of the cis man // cis woman dyad! Archetypes like 'the poisoner witch' or 'the gossip' or 'the slut' have always been used as a reaction to negotiating power gained via the kitchen, or cloistered social activity, or sex, all routes that men could never understand as a direct consequence of their own gendered power -- so in response to this fear, these roles pilloried exemplary women to structurally terrify the population, but just as importantly to exonerate the rest of the female population, to let men pretend that these weren't tools that everyone was using, to pretend that heterosexual relationships were pure! Just as transfems serve the role of gay best friend^2 in gay mens' films, they serve the role of women^2 in queer spaces, constantly performing gender work which is simultaneously unknowable and terrifying to the cis majority, forcing periodic purges to pick out 'the bad ones' which temporarily exonerate the rest, letting the majority believe that the 'good tranny' actually exists: that mythical trans woman who is not semi-intentionally managing their gender presentation around you, the one you can fuck without worrying if she's just faking it, the one who is good and pure and radical and really, really boring. I have never met a non-passing trans woman like this, but I'm sure plenty of queer people have.

Conclusion

So there are two main forms of everyday experience that express and constitute transmisogyny. The first is the social friction inherent in being freak-gendered in a world that relies on gender to make people move and talk and shit correctly. The second is the friction between the gender awareness demanded of transfeminine people (none) and the practical result of transgendered living in the world. If you want to take some of this back to cis womanhood, I've been trying to reframe the marginalized position of womanhood in terms of articulation work -- that while women have always worked, that work has generally been rendered unreal, always carried out with a dream of not existing, turned into stage-setting for the real boys to grow up and come in and be breadwinners. In this context, our components look like 1) do gender work and 2) don't let it show, and the framing of transfeminine people as socially useless outcasts despite their constitutive role in social life via flexible labor starts to sound a lot like the making of a super-woman, like the mujerísima sometimes invoked in Latin American travesti activism. That sounds just about right. I will become a witch of witches, the lurking terror that eats astrologers, always and ever a little bit too real.

#transmisogyny

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kopilot-pop · 6 months

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[Tired] pt.2

- Le Sserafim x 6thMember!Reader

Summary: After a harsh criticism from one of your teachers, you started to fall into a bad habit again. You started staying overnight at the company, your knees are always bruised, and you probably shouldn’t have 3 cans of Redbull everyday… Thankfully, your bandmates have easily recognized your behaviors and decided to put it to an end.

Warnings: overworking, self-hate, depression, suicidal intentions (very minor), fainting, hospital, needles,

a/n: sorry for the long wait. This is a bit shorter than I expected, but I hope you guys still enjoy.

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The horrendous amount of caffeine started to take a toll on you.

During one of the last practices for your comeback, Chaewon stared at you worriedly.

But you were too busy staring at your shaky hands to notice.

After chugging another can of Redbull, you finished the practice and finally turned on your phone. Several missed calls and notifications from your group’s chatroom covered your phone.

You didn’t have the energy to care.

You fell asleep on the couch in the practice room.

You have a comeback tomorrow after all.

-----

Furious is an understatement.

Chaewon is absolutely mad.

The 6 of you gathered at the studio for Music Bank on the day of the comeback. While getting ready with makeup and outfits, you could tell the girls wanted to talk to you but were too busy to.

When you all finally got up to the stage, the jittery feeling became more intense. As the second verse started your stomach started to churn, your throat closed up - you almost missed your lines-

and once again you couldn’t stop staring at your shaky hands with bloodshot eyes.

Until you froze.

Your eyes met Zuha’s. And you watched in slow motion as she ran towards you, barely catching your body before it hit the ground, and the spotlight in front of your eyes shut down.

-----

“…..ays-… y..… med…-”

You finally woke up with a pounding inside your head.

The moment you could blur out the bright light above your head, you could see Sakura’s face and feel the cool cloth on yours.

She was carefully wiping away the sweat on your head and quickly noticed your eyes open.

“Y/n! How are you feeling?”

At the same time, you could hear a loud crash on the other side of the room.

“Y/n unnie woke up?!”

“Y/N ARE YOU OKAY-”

“G..guys… calm down..”

The three younger girls ran up to you, seeming to have been lounging on the couch together.

Eunchae, with teary eyes, pulled you into a tight hug.

“Hey! She’s not stable yet!! Don’t push her around!!”

Your leader walked through the doors to pull down the three puppies from you.

“Thanks..”

After a few moments of awkward silence, Chaewon finally started.

“You passed out on stage Y/n.”

“Chaewon, don’t be too harsh.” Sakura tried her best to keep the situation calm.

“I know unnie- Y/n. You fainted due to malnutrition. When’s the last time you ate anything?”

“…I’m not sure..”

“Of course you’re not sure. The only thing you’ve been putting inside your body was energy drinks-”

“Unnie..”

“No- We were all thinking so I’m just gonna say it- We thought you were gonna die Y/n.”

She said it so matter-of-factly that you could almost laugh. Almost.

“Why would y-”

“You were barely home, working like a slave every fucking day, starving, and depending on pain meds- so yeah, OF COURSE WE THOUGHT THE WORSE!!”

You finally gained the courage to look up at her teary eyes.

“Do you understand the amount of fear I felt when I saw you drop to the ground yesterday?! How terrified we felt when you didn’t wake up when Yunjin screamed your name?!!”

“I-..”

“Kazuha carried you to the hospital because she was too scared that something might happen to you if she let go!! Can you even imagine being that scared?!”

You looked down at your lap, fiddling with the needle(IV drip) inside your hand. Sakura gently held your hand to stop you.

“That’s enough Chaewon.” She said.

She’s never stern, but this time she was. Sakura gave you this look, something just like the one your mother always gave you.

Worried, angry, but somehow warm.

“We were scared Y/n.. More than the fainting, I was scared of losing you just like last time…”

Last time? Oh yeah. You almost killed yourself during debut.

“We care about you. You know that. All 5 of us love and cherish you, sometimes even more than anybody else in the world. And watching you slowly fade away like that just…”

She started to choke up. It was rare to see her like that, so you instinctively shot out to pull her into a hug.

Holding onto you, as you might just fade away, Sakura softly sobbed into your shoulder.

When you felt another weight on your back, you turned around to see the youngest also snuggling into you. Probably the person you mostly didn't want to catch you in such a depressing state.

"I...I'm sorr-"

Yunjin, with the same teary face all the others choked out;

"It's not your fault."

She slid next to the edge of the bed, gently holding onto Sakura's hand right on top of yours.

"I wanted to be better. Good enough to stand by you guys. I just wanted to-" You felt the tears finally fall free from your eyes as Chaewon with the same frown (albeit a bit softer) held your face.

Gentle. God, they were all so gentle with you.

"You are. You are good enough. You are good."

Watching you sob out, Kazuha finally joined into the pile, right next to Yunjin as she dries your tears with her old sweater sleeves.

You let out another ugly cry as you feel the 5 girls' warmth trap you. You forgot that you were good enough. You forgot how loved you were.

But just like always, they were there to remind you once again.

"You're loved Y/n. By us, always."

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sinkovia · 5 months

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The idea of losing you

Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

Angst, Mentions of suicide, Violence, Blood.

The mission had been intense, with bullets whizzing past and adrenaline pumping through your veins. You and Ghost were working together, taking down enemy operators one by one. Amid the chaos, you called out for Luna, your loyal German Shepherd, who had just finished killing an enemy operator attempting to flank your position.

With a simple command, you beckoned her over, and she trotted to your side, her ears perked up and her gaze locked onto you, awaiting your next orders. Ghost was at your side, urgently calling for reinforcements as you watched from a distance. The tension in the air was thick as you both knew that this mission was far from over.

The faint sound of approaching aircraft grew louder, and you looked up to see an ominous sight—a squadron of fighter jets streaking across the sky. Then, it happened in a heartbeat. The building where your brother was located, the very same building you had just passed moments ago, was engulfed in a fiery explosion.

Time seemed to slow as you watched in horror, the world around you muted by the deafening roar of the explosion.

Your heart shattered as the realization hit you like a tidal wave. Your brother, who had always been there for you, your rock in the tumultuous sea of your life, was now gone. The airstrike had claimed him, ending his life instantly. Beside you, Luna whined, as if echoing your grief. She felt it too; she sensed his presence vanish, and in her own way, she mourned the loss.

For a brief, agonizing moment, the mission, the gunfire, the chaos around you all faded into the background.

Ghost's firm grip on your shoulder pulls you back from the brink. He turns you to face him, and his eyes convey a stern determination. He knows you're hurting, but he also knows that there's a mission to complete. In that silent exchange, Ghost encourages you to hold on, to push through the pain. The mission is still in motion, and you can't afford to lose yourself to grief, not now, not here. With a deep breath, you muster the strength to nod, acknowledging Ghost's unspoken command.

In the days that followed your brother's funeral, your life had taken a downward spiral. Grief had consumed you, making it difficult to eat or sleep. You had distanced yourself from the team, retreating into solitude as you grappled with the loss that weighed heavily on your heart. Your teammates understood, giving you the space and time you needed to process your pain.

Through those dark days, Luna never left your side, her presence was the only thing that seemed to tether you to reality. She stayed by your side, a silent companion that understood your pain better than anyone else. On one sleepless night, you took Luna for a walk. The night air was cool against your cheeks, carrying a faint scent of pine and earth. Luna trotted beside you, her warm presence a comforting reminder of the life that still existed, despite the overwhelming grief that clouded your heart.

As you wandered deeper into the quiet night, you stumbled upon Ghost. He sat on a bench with a cigarette in hand. His gaze was fixed on the mountains in the distance. A cigarette dangled between his fingers, the soft ember glowing in the dark. You approached him, Luna at your side.

"Mind if I join you?" you asked, your voice a fragile whisper in the stillness of the night.

He glanced over at you, his eyes reflecting the dim moonlight. "Be my guest," he replied, his tone a mix of weariness and understanding. You took a seat beside him, the night air cool against your skin, and for a moment, you both sat in silence, staring at the mountains in the distance.

The weight of the world seemed to press down on your shoulders, but here, with Ghost beside you and Luna at your feet, you found a moment of respite from the relentless storm that had become your life. Finally, Ghost broke the silence, his voice tinged with concern that he couldn't conceal.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes shifting to study your face in the faint moonlight.

Ghost wasn't one to readily express his feelings, but his worry had been gnawing at him ever since you started pulling away from the team. He would never admit it to you, but your absence had left a void, and he missed the sound of your voice, the liveliness you brought to the group. Your presence had, in its own way, always been a comfort to him, a reminder of life beyond the shadows of his past.

You grounded him in a way he couldn't quite explain.

You took a deep breath, you decided to be honest with him. "To tell you the truth, I thought about ending it. Several times actually, with one quick bullet to the head. But I realised I couldnt give up, Luna needs me." You softly patted the top of her head and smile as she looks up to you. Ghosts eyes never left you, his gaze scanning over your features, lingering when he noticed the deep bags under your eyes.

"My brother gave her to me after our parents died. She’s all I have left of him. She was just a puppy when she was thrown into this hellish world of war. I can’t leave her behind. Im trying to pull myself together for her sake. Shes the only reason I havent given up."

Ghost listened, his gaze never wavering from you. He saw the pain in your eyes, the weight you carried, and he didn't know what to say. But when you looked at him, he met your gaze with sincerity. Breaking the silence, he spoke gently, his voice a calming presence in the still night.

"You're not alone in this, Y/n. The team, we're all worried about you. We care about you, and we're here for you whenever you need it."

Ghost's gaze remained on yours, his eyes reflecting the concern and genuine care he felt. "Don't push us away, we care about you more than you might realize."

Don’t push me away… I care about you more than you realize…

Words he would never dare speak to you.

"Thank you, Ghost" Your smile, though faint, warmed his heart.

The horizon began to shift, the first soft rays of the rising sun peeking over the distant mountains. Together, you and Ghost sat in the comfortable silence of the early morning, Luna at your feet, as you watched the sun rise.

A couple days after your talk with Ghost you were thrown into another mission. You were meant to infiltrate a building, and the team had split up to cover more ground. Luna was at your side as you cautiously opened a door, not anticipating the nightmare that awaited on the other side. In a fraction of a second, the situation went from under control to utter chaos. Luna leaped into action, her training taking over as she swiftly neutralized the enemy in front of you. But you failed to realize that it wasn't just one target; there was a group of them inside.

Two of them emerged from behind the door, pinning you to the floor before you could react. You struggled against their weight, your heart pounding in your chest as the situation escalated. Panic surged through you as you saw one of them raise their weapon, aiming it at Luna. The deafening gunshot pierced the air, and you watched in horror as Luna was struck, the bullet tearing through her leg. She cried out in pain, collapsing to the floor beside you, her once vibrant eyes now filled with agony. You screamed out as two men began kicking her.

"Please stop. Please dont do this!"

You were mere inches away, your arm slipped from the mens hold on you. You outstretched your hand, fingers trembling as you desperately tried to reach her, to offer any comfort you could. But they were quick to grab your arm, pinning your hands behind your back. All you could do was watch helplessly as she lay there, her gaze locked with yours, a silent plea in her eyes. The pain and guilt gnawed at your insides, the anguish of being so close yet utterly powerless to save her.

"Luna please get up."

You watched as one of the men took the pistol from his holster aiming it at her head.

"Im begging you shes all I have left please dont do this. Please just let her go."

Luna who had been looking at you the entire time lets out a low whine. All you can do is look at her.

"I'm so sorry" was all you can say before the deafening gunshot pierced the air.

The rest of your team burst into the room, and in a flurry of gunfire, they took down the enemy operatives. Ghost hurried to your side, but the tears continued to fall silently as you stared at Luna's lifeless body. Ghost positioned himself in front of you to shield you from the lifeless form her. Gently, he lifted you, cradling you in his arms, and carried you away from the room, heading towards the medevac.

Ghost had been there for you every day, his presence unwavering after the loss of your brother and your Luna. He remembered the words that had echoed in his mind, how Luna had been the last thing keeping you from ending your own life, and that thought scared him to the core. He couldn't bear the idea of losing you.

So, he checked on you constantly.

He would bring you tea at random times of the day, ask you to training sessions , and do anything he could to prevent you from being alone for extended periods. You looked okay, you had accepted every cup he brought thanking him with a small smile, joined him for training sessions, watched movies with him and the team in the rec room. He knew you were faking it, putting on a facade to shield him and the team from your pain.

Then, one day, you finally told him that you were okay.

"I'm okay, Ghost. I'm trying my best to pull myself together. It's just... a lot, you know?"

Ghost nodded, "I know," he replied, his voice gentle. "And I'm here for you, always. Dont forget that."

Ghost, ever the soldier, wanted to believe you. He wanted to believe that you were strong enough to overcome the grief and trauma that had engulfed you. But deep down, he had a nagging feeling that you were still hurting, that you weren't as okay as you claimed to be. He knew that healing from such profound loss took time, and he wished he could do more to help you through it.

You guys had just finished watching a movie in the rec room, the two of you were walking back to your rooms. His room was right next to yours, he stopped in front of his door. The nagging feeling in his heart was screaming out to him to not leave you alone. His mind flashed back to you laughing at the movie with Soap. You had made a joke that Soap thought was hilarious.

He thought that maybe you were trying your best to be okay. So he turned saying goodnight to you before stepping into his room and closing the door. He couldnt fall asleep, he had been tossing and turning for an hour. His mind wouldnt let him rest, he was worried about you. Something had kept screaming out at him to knock on your door and check on you and so he threw the covers off himself.

He opened his door and walked over to yours, he raised his fist to knock on your door when he flinched.

The sound of a gunshot made him flinch.

"Y/n?!" he tried opening the door but of course it was locked. He started to ram his shoulder against it until he finally broke through. He saw you laying on your bed, your eyes were open.

They were far away.

In your hand was a gun.

And you lay in a growing pool of your blood.

Ghosts breathing was labored as he looked at your eyes, you had been crying in your last moments. If only he had come sooner, if only he had listened to the gut feeling that screamed out at him the second he left your side. His eyes went to the small piece of paper in your hand, he carefully grabbed it, slowly opening it. His breath caught in his throat as his eyes read over the letters.

Im sorry Simon.

You noticed how hard he had been trying. Your conversations with him were always one sided before your brother and Luna's death. He was always the one listening, he never bothered to start conversations, never bothered to make plans, never offered you tea, never went to the movie nights.

He had tried his damn hardest to make sure you would be okay but it still wasnt enough.

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seokmthw · 24 days

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in the fire | sung hanbin

⇢ pairing: hanbin x reader

⇢ warnings: dystopia au, zombie apolocalypse au, angst, some fluff, slow burn, major character death, vomiting, blood, gore, violence, explicit language, mentions of/implied assisted suicide (this is the best way to describe it)

⇢ synopsis: a deadly virus has broken out and left the world in shambles as everything you once knew gets flipped upside down and you're fighting for your life alongside your best friends. the three of you decide to follow a pair of strangers to a city that supposedly has an entire community of people, but you didn't realize the amount of horrors you would have to endure along the way.

⇢ word count: 19.08k

⇢ note: i am SO proud of how this turned out, it's one of my favorite fics i have written to date. the plot moves kind of fast but i feel like that happens with most zombie apocalypse media, so i hope you guys don't mind. if you want to listen to the playlist i listened to during the making of this while you read, here it is. i hope you enjoy :]

JOIN MY TAGLIST!

“y/n, wake up!” the deep slumber you were in felt as if it didn’t last very long due to the familiar voice of one of your best friends, taerae, shaking you awake.

you groaned, stirring around beneath your covers, swatting his hands away from you, “what, taerae? i was sleeping so good.”

“that’s not really important right now,” his voice was hushed, a hint of anxiety laced within his words. it was extremely unlike him, and within mere seconds you were opening your eyes and staring at him, sitting up from your cocoon, brows furrowed in concern, “what's wrong?” you asked, observing him as he began rummaging through your bags hanging on the back of your bedroom door.

he tossed your largest backpack at you, “we need to go, within the next few minutes, actually. pack only the essentials.”

“why?” you inquired, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed and touching your feet to the chilly hardwood floors. you were greeted with silence, trying to get your tired brain to catch up with taerae’s actions of grabbing some of your personal hygiene products and tossing them on the bed next to you.

you become frustrated with the boy, snapping, “taerae, what is going on? you can't just barge in here and tell me to pack some of my shit and then not tell me why.”

he stopped dead in his tracks, shoulders tense and a sigh slipping past his lips. he turned to face you, the fear he was feeling clear on his expression now. you searched his face for anything that might be an indicator of what it was, but the words he uttered were something you never expected, “there was just a nationwide announcement broadcasted on the tv that said the most recent round of flu shots contained a nasty string of some virus in it and it's mutating in people’s genes,” he explained, “the people who got it are going crazy and freaking out on everyone around them. biting them, clawing at their skin, swallowing whatever bits of flesh they can get their hands on. it's complete madness. they want everyone to travel to some hospital a few hours north of here.”

you couldn't help the way your jaw fell slack at his gruesome words. people eating other people? there was no way this was happening. you were surely dreaming, or taerae was pulling your leg and taking it a little too far; it wouldn't be the first time he's done something like this during your time being friends with him. you shook your head, balling up one of your shirts and chucking it at him, “stop fucking with me, dude. i can't believe you woke me up for this.”

“i’m being dead serious, y/n,” the bewilderment in his eyes and the nervous bobbing of his adam’s apple was hard to miss, “ask hanbin if you're really that skeptical. you know he would never seriously joke about something like this.” he took your backpack from your hand and began shoving things inside of it, motioning for you to seek out hanbin and find out for yourself.

you pushed past him and out into the hallway, feet padding gently against the floor into the living room where the television was quietly humming in the background. you focused your attention on that, snagging the remote from the coffee table and turning the volume up. on the screen was your local news channel, an anchor braving what seemed to be utter chaos behind them.

/reporting to you live from the streets of atlanta. since the news of the virus outbreak, madness has struck the city. people are in a frenzy, desperate to get out and find some sort of safety. it is highly advised you form a group with whoever you are near now and leave as soon as you can. i will provide you with more updates as they com-/

before the reporter could finish her sentence, someone came barreling up behind them, snapping their neck cleanly. you watched in horror as the reporter’s body crumpled to the ground and the culprit followed suit, crawling on his hands and knees to get to the exposed flesh of their neck. the culprit sniffed deeply before he began ripping their throat out, blood pooling near their head and their face quickly becoming unrecognizable. the look in the culprit’s eyes was nothing short of evil and you felt as if you were going to vomit just watching.

“y/n, there you are!” the sound of hanbin's panicked voice caused a wave of fear to course through your veins. you yelped in surprise, quickly whipping around to face him, taking in his expression, a backpack of his own secured on his back not going unnoticed by you.

this was real. and it was serious.

you felt tears well up in your eyes at the sight of him, still digesting what you had just witnessed on the television. he glanced over at the screen, catching a look for himself, and was quick to shut it off so you didn't have to see anymore. he approached you gently, but you were quick to cling to him, desperate to be grounded, to have a sense of security after being woken up to such intense news. you felt his arms envelope you in an embrace, his hands cupping the back of your head as you whispered, “i’m terrified, hanbin.”

“i know,” he consoled, trying his best to keep his voice steady, “i am too, but we can't let that control us right now. we have to be logical and level headed. let’s go find taerae and get out of here.”

you nodded, pulling away from him, feeling your heartbeat speed up in your chest at the way he wiped your tears away, the softest of smiles on his face. he tilted his head in the direction of your bedroom, and you followed behind him, shaking your head at yourself. now was /not/ the time for you to be dwelling on the crush you developed on him. at this point, you weren't sure if there would ever be a time, but you were hardly worried about it.

you entered back into your bedroom, having seen taerae was almost finished with packing your backpack full of things. you thanked him quietly and apologized for freaking out on him a few minutes prior, earning a small smile from him in return, “i understand why you didn't believe me at first, so it's really okay.”

“so what’s the plan?” you asked, now taking the bag from taerae’s grasp and slinging it over your shoulders.

“i suppose we attempt to get wherever they're saying to go,” hanbin answered. you looked outside of your window, catching a glimpse of the chaos a few streets over, a cynical laugh erupting from your lungs, “looks like that’ll be easier said than done.”

the three of you made a collective decision to at least try, because maybe you'd be guaranteed safety that way. you stayed clustered together tightly upon exiting the house through the front door, every sense on high alert as you kept your eyes peeled out for anyone you suspected might be infected by the virus. you felt as if your heart was in your throat, adrenaline coursing through your veins in a way it never had before.

you slunk to taerae's suv, opening the doors to get in as quietly as you could muster, though you knew it would be harder to keep its old doors from squeaking too loudly. you hopped in quickly, desperate to get out of there and to a place where you wouldn't have to fear so much, and hopefully live in peace until this entire thing blew over.

out of habit, taerae shut the door loudly, and the panic that sank to the pits of your stomachs was enough for taerae to kick it into high gear and speed out of your neighborhood as fast as he could. loud, gutteral shrieks from infected chasing after the car could be heard – the sound was unmistakable. you tried your hardest to keep your head down, to not look, because you genuinely felt like you'd throw up at any given moment.

but your efforts were cut short from the sounds of the tires screeching and taerae yelling, your gaze flicking up to see a body toppling over the hood of the car, blood splattering on the windshield and oozing from their mouth from where they'd likely just gotten done devouring someone. silence hung thickly in the air, the three of you processing everything that just happened.

“i just ki-”

taerae’s words were drowned out by the sound of you wretching in the back seat.

ii.

you never made it to the hospital. there was far too much chaos, and by the time you’d made it to a gas station, everyone had used up every last drop trying to top off before they drove up there. the three of you ended up having to completely abandon taerae’s suv, and despite the sheer amount of infected surrounding you, somehow, you survived.

your new routine had been set in place for quite some time now. find a shelter, scavenge for supplies, and repeat for a couple weeks. then afterward, you would relocate. it was really the most you could do, considering every place you deemed worthy to make a hideout ended up being overtaken by more infected than you could usually handle. you were getting pretty sick of constantly having to move around, having no stability.

you missed life before the outbreak.

it took weeks for you to adjust to seeing so much blood, or having to kill infected who hadn't completely rotted away, some eerily intact despite the virus taking hold. it took an even longer time to adjust to /killing/. it was never something you imagined you would ever have to do in your life, but by now, about a year and a half later since the outbreak, you were immune to it and it didn't bother you anymore. regardless, you still longed for the days where all you did was complain about work and bills.

having taerae and hanbin around made things a lot easier; especially hanbin. he naturally assumed the role of leader within your small group, and even more so if you had others tagging along with you. but just barely a week ago the last person of a group of about 5 you came across got bit and succumbed to the infection, leading to a huge scare of taerae potentially getting infected himself. thankfully, he wasn't, but the prospect of losing either of them to the virus made you feel nauseous.

your tasks for each day were split up so none of you experienced extreme amounts of burnout. some days were dedicated solely to rest, though all three of you felt incredibly guilty when you did that. at any given moment, you could be attacked. or not have enough to eat. or even die. one thing you all had learned the hard way was that you were never guaranteed to live through an entire day.

which led you to your current situation of trying to sneak around a nearby general store in hopes of finding some sort of supplies with taerae while hanbin protected the house you were currently inhabiting. since losing the last of your new group, you often found yourself wishing you could have at least a few more people so nobody was left alone. knowing that hanbin was currently by himself made you uneasy, especially since he couldn’t defend himself against more than two or three infected, or even other people, at once. you shook the thoughts plaguing your mind away; there was no time to think about things like that.

besides, you knew hanbin would be fine. he always was.

you gripped your knife tightly in your hand, allowing your eyes to constantly scan the aisles while you were searching through boxes in hopes of finding anything you could use. you had come to this place a couple of times since settling down a couple weeks ago, but it was nearly empty now. your food supply was running out at an alarming rate and there was only so much you could ration between the three of you before you would inevitably starve.

the moment you came across anything that was edible, you could have cried. it was the millionth can of beans you had come across since you’d been traveling and you were tired of them being the main component of your diet. it was no wonder it was some of the only food left no matter where you went. people still hated beans, even in the midst of an apocalypse.

you carefully stepped over large chunks of broken glass to avoid making too much noise so you could stand next to taerae, who was dejectedly kicking around some garbage that was of no use to any of you. smiling sadly, you asked, “have you found anything?”

“not really, no,” he answered, “i think another group of people came through here and took a bunch of supplies we had seen when we were fighting that mob last week. bastards.”

you knew how frustrated taerae was getting with unsuccessful supply runs. admittedly, you were feeling the same way. it was hard not to have a temper. but, you were actively trying to make sure you didn’t let it crush your spirits too much. if you did, you knew that it would not only bring your motivation to keep searching down, but it would take a toll on everyone else around you as well. that was the last thing you needed, especially since things were looking more and more grim each day.

“have you found anything?” he asked.

you sighed, “other than a couple cans of beans and a box of cold medicine, i haven’t come across anything worthwhile.”

taerae softly whined, and for a minute, you thought he might throw a tantrum, “why does everyone leave only beans? that’s been our diet for what feels like an eternity.”

“i know, but be glad we find anything at all. it’s better than nothing,” taerae huffed in annoyance, but ultimately agreed with your sentiment.

you followed taerae out of the store, careful not to let the door slam shut behind you. making one loud, uneccessary noise would more than likely lead to your deaths, and that wasn’t particularly something you were looking for by any means. you both refused to leave hanbin on his own. you were doubtful he could survive alone, especially if he were to encounter a lot of infected at one time.

there was nobody who was capable of that.

you set off down the road toward your current hideout. night time was creeping up on the two of you, and while you were sure the you could take on a small group of infected together, you knew you couldn’t handle any more than that. you peered over to your partner, taking note of the sour expression adorning his features, and nudged him playfully, “a little success is better than nothing at all, you know.”

“i do,” he attempted to fight the smile creeping at the corners of his mouth, “maybe you’re just bad luck. every time i go on a run with hanbin, we always find so much.”

“hey!” you exclaimed with a light laugh.

taerae shrugged, a small chuckle emitting from his lungs, “you didn’t deny it.”

you fell into a comfortable silence, the only audible sound being your boots thudding against the pavement. you felt a shiver course down your spine; this would be your second time going through this apocalypse in the winter months. it was hard to ignore the fact that it was starting to get icy out and the wind was cutting right through your thin jacket and down to your bones. you leaned a little closer into taerae, who was practically grinning from ear to ear as you did so.

“i take it you’re cold?” though he was teasing you, his arm instinctively wrapped around your shoulders. you nuzzled closer into the boy’s side, soaking up any bit of warmth he radiated from underneath his hoodie.

“no, i’m sweating buckets,” you sarcastically remarked, completely unable to mask your playful smile, “i’m actually freezing. and i think it’s starting to rain.”

taerae tilted his head up toward the sky, his dark eyes scanning the darkening gray clouds overhead. he audibly sighed, and you took note of the cold droplets of water starting to fall on top of your head and seep into your clothes. he turned to you, “we’re only a couple blocks away from the house, let’s just pick up the pace. we don’t want our asses to get mauled by infected when we’re almost back.”

you nearly stopped dead in your tracks at the sound. it was almost as if taerae was psychic sometimes, and you were hoping like hell you were just hearing things. a deep, throaty growl sounded off behind you once more, and when you turned your head to look, your eyes widened at the sight of a mob forming behind you. you supposed that this was to be expected, especially considering it had grown darker a lot sooner than it normally did, but it still put fear in your heart.

taerae gently urged you forward, “we need to go, now!”

even if the size of the mob was manageable, it certainly did not mean the two of you should take it on. the moment you were to do that, more were likely to start showing up and you would be doomed. taerae grabbed your hand as the two of you began to sprint, his grip on you preventing you from falling any further behind from your slight lack of speed. the rain had become heavier the closer you got to your hideout, skewing any good amount of vision you were hoping to have between your hair plastering to your skin and the weather limiting how far ahead you could see in front of you.

you cursed the month of december; it had always been one of your least favorite months, even before the outbreak, but now it was definitely taking the top spot for your most hated. ice had already begun to form on the road and sidewalks of the neighborhood and your boots were no longer gripping to anything. an intense jolt of pain shot through your knee the moment you lost your balance and smashed it into the pavement. you inhaled a sharp breath, struggling to regain your footing as taerae stopped to help pull you up.

“they’re getting closer! come on, y/n, we’re only a few houses away!”

you pushed your legs to keep going, no matter how much your knee was throbbing or your muscles felt like they were on fire. you desperately searched your surroundings in hopes of finding some sort of familiarity, and the moment you saw hanbin standing in the living room window of your hideout, you felt a wave relief wash over you.

taerae pulled you up the front steps of the porch, making sure you got inside before he did, and kicking an infected back into the crowd and following you so it couldn’t force its way inside. hanbin slammed the door and locked the deadbolt the moment he was able to. your legs felt like jello and there was no mistaking the heavy breathing of taerae as he was hunched over, tossing his bag onto the ground.

“did it get you?” hanbin sounded frantic as he shoved taerae’s right pant leg up, eyes scanning every inch of his skin for a mark of any kind left by the infected he had kicked back.

taerae scowled, shoving the older boy away from him with a smirk, “of course not. i would have felt it,” his gaze softened at hanbin’s solemn gaze, “i’m okay, don’t worry.”

hanbin nodded, his eyes flickering over to your hobbling frame as you attempted to make your way to the old couch you had been sleeping on since being in the house. you winced the moment you put any pressure on that knee, though, and within mere seconds hanbin had his arm snaked around your waist to help you get to your destination easier.

you sat down, exhaling a shaky breath as you rolled up your own pant leg. your entire knee was already beginning to form a deep purple bruise and blood seeped from the small scrape that you figured you would have. you gingerly poked around the wound, mentally cursing yourself for losing your footing in the first place.

“y/n took a pretty hard fall out there, i’m surprised they didn’t shatter their kneecap,” taerae spoke up.

a look of concern contorted hanbin’s face, “are you going to be able to function okay?”

“i don’t know,” you truthfully replied, “i think i can as long as i nurse it or have some sort of support. i also think it would be best if we leave and try to find another shelter somewhere, we’ve definitely overstayed our welcome here.”

taerae scoffed, “are you out of your mind? there’s absolutely no way you can travel with your knee like that, let alone fight off any infected.”

“as much as i hate to admit it, i think y/n is right,” hanbin said, “besides, we’ve wiped out everything nearby that could possibly have usable supplies. there’s no way we can survive on what little we have until y/n is fully healed up.”

“not to mention, it seems like more and more infected are showing up around you here,” you added.

your gaze locked with taerae, who looked as if he could explode at any given moment. you knew he had the best of intentions, but it was crucial you left at dawn. sighing, you reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it in reassurance and muttering, “i’ll be okay, i promise. i can hold my own and as long as we wrap my knee up well, i’ll be able to walk normally. you know i wouldn’t say any of this if i didn’t think i could do it.”

taerae finally nodded in agreement, though his expression remained menacing as his eyes flickered between both you and hanbin.

“we better get some rest, we leave the moment the sun rises.”

iii.

it had been a couple of days since the three of you had set out from your hideout. to say you were exhausted was an understatement; you hadn’t found a shelter worthwhile to stay in, so you had to make camp in the most closed off spaces you could, usually in the woods. you hardly slept; it was far too cold to stay asleep for very long at all and if you did manage to get a couple hours in, you felt worse when you woke up.

you had to eat your supply of beans straight from the can because you had no way to cook them. scarfing them down wasn’t exactly ideal, and you dealt with taerae whining about it the most out of all of you. but, food was food, and you were lucky enough to have what you did.

“if this map is correct,” hanbin interrupted the silence as the three of you continued walking down the same road you had set foot on, “this road should take us to the next town a couple miles out from where we are now.”

you felt a pang of excitement hit you, “maybe we’ll find better food there.”

“and somewhere a little more warm to sleep,” taerae added, the eagerness in his voice hard to ignore.

hanbin nodded, “we could probably make it there today if we keep up the pace we are,” he turned to look at you, “can you do that with your knee?”

truthfully, your knee felt like it was going to give out on you at any given moment. hanbin did the best he could with the little supplies you had to stabilize it enough so it didn’t hurt when you walked. it worked for the first day and half, but ever since your last stop to try and sleep, it’s been in an excruciating amount of pain.

you still assured the two with a smile anyway, “i’ll be fine, i promise.”

as the three of you continued your journey, you couldn’t help but feel like every inch of your body was going numb. being out in the cold for the amount of time you had been was definitely not good for any of you, especially since the jackets you had were suitable only for autumn-like weather. snow had begun piling up on the first day of traveling, making things even more slick beneath your boots and the chill in the air to cut through every measly layer of clothing you adorned.

you just hoped that hanbin was right about the town. for everyone’s sake.

— — —

“there’s a stream not too far from here, i’ll go and get some water while you change y/n’s bandages.”

hanbin was currently kneeling on the ground in front of you, teeth gritted together as he tried to keep from shivering too much while he focused on the task at hand, “just hurry back.”

with that, taerae set off into the woods where the stream could be seen from where your spot on a tree stump, his boots crunching the snow beneath them. one of the only perks about winter was being able to see through the usually dense areas a lot easier.

you sighed, frustrated with yourself, “i’m sorry for setting us back.”

hanbin shook his head, “you don’t have to apologize, i know you wouldn’t ask to stop for the day if you were feeling okay.”

“maybe you should just leave me for the infected, i’m more of a burden right now than anything,” you half-joked, one corner of your mouth raising in a smile.

however, the boy in front of you didn’t find it to be very funny. his frown deepened and he locked his dark eyes with yours and grabbed your hand, his fingers chilled to the bone, and a seriousness radiating from his body, “i will never, ever leave you behind, even if it costs me my life. okay?”

“the same will always go for you,” you squeezed his hand reassuringly. you would be an idiot if you didn’t admit the small smile he gave in return made your belly do backflips or the feeling of his hand in yours made you warm up just a little bit.

hanbin taped the remaining bandage together the best he could before rolling your pant leg down, careful not to roll his hard work down with the fabric of your jeans. you mumbled a thank you, standing up to make sure it was still secure and once you gave him a thumbs up, hanbin rose to his feet as well.

by now, taerae made his way back to the two of you, extending the canteen of cool water out to you. taking it graciously, you took a few good sips before passing the object to hanbin.

“what’s the plan now?” taerae inquired, scanning the brush around you in an attempt to find somewhere to set up camp for the night.

hanbin shrugged, “maybe we should wait until morning to finish the hike to the convenience store. it’s almost dark now and i would hate to travel and have that be what kills us,” both you and taerae nodded in agreement.

you parted your lips to speak, “let’s find somewhere to rest then, we have a long night ahead of us.”

— — —

you desperately clung to hanbin and taerae, craving warmth more than ever. you were to the point now that moving hurt from how cold your entire body was. the small fire you had going earlier in the evening had to be put out before you slept so it didn't attract more infected that you wanted, so it was exponentially more difficult than any of your previous nights on the road or inside an abandoned home.

morning began to break through the clouds in the sky, your surroundings illuminated by the dim light it provided to you. the snow glimmered all around you, and bad you not been freezing your ass off, you would have found it beautiful. hanbin began to stir next to you, uttering a quiet, “did you get any sleep?”

“barely,” you mumbled back, taking note of the way taerae was snoring on your other side, sleeping soundly as if he wasn't on the frigid, hard ground in the middle of winter. you envied him, because no matter where you were, he was somehow able to sleep at least a few hours.

hanbin lowly chuckled, “me either, but i’m glad to see it's going well for him.”

you peered up at hanbin through your lashes, taking in the gash just to the side of his right eye that was still healing from an encounter with a hostile group of survivors a few weeks ago. you reached up to touch it, gently tilting his head sideways to get a better look at it. you informed him, “it’s healing really well, i don't think the scar will be all that noticeable.”

“good, i’m glad,” he replied, and you missed the way his eyes followed you as you flipped around on your other side to begin rustling taerae awake. truthfully, you turned away because you were scared hanbin would catch on to the feelings you still somehow possessed for him, but waking taerae was also just as important.

taerae grunted as he woke up, surprise evident in his face; almost as if he were worried something bad was happening, but when he realized it was just you, he relaxed almost immediately. “what time is it?” he asked, and you glanced down at the watch you adorned on your wrist, replying, “just barely after six.”

your morning was pretty relaxed after that. you took your time waking up and even managed to get another fire going so you could defrost yourselves before trekking back out into the snow toward your destination. your knee was feeling a lot better since taking a break and you were able to comfortably walk on it without needing some kind of support from either hanbin or taerae.

your relaxation and bliss of the fire were quickly replaced with dread and hatred toward the cold as you trudged toward the town you were looking for. you still felt better, and your knee was much easier to walk on than previously, so you knew you'd at least be able to make it there while there was still daylight.

a soft gasp erupted from the boy on your right “what’s that up there?” the glee laced in taerae’s voice was hard to ignore upon him catching sight of gas pumps and the building next to them.

you squinted to catch a better glimpse and couldn’t help the grin tugging at either corner of your mouth, “i think we’re here!”

hanbin chuckled, “you two sound like you’re arriving somewhere for a field trip.”

you nudged him slightly, the three of you unknowingly picking up your paces in pure excitement. you pulled out your weapons upon getting closer to the gas station, eyes and ears fully alert for any potential threats surrounding the area – infected or not.

taerae extended his arm, quietly pulling the door open and holding his gun up in front of him as he walked inside. you were the next one inside with hanbin following up the rear, and once you were able to see that there was no imminent danger inside any of the rooms, you put your weapons away.

the sight you were greeted with was enough to almost bring the three of you to tears. there was at least four shelves of food and supplies that hadn’t been touched yet, which was extremely rare to come by at the point you were in with the apocalypse.

“this has been well worth the wait,” taerae piped up, tossing a box of crackers, a package of hot dogs, and a few bottles of water into his backpack, “we finally don’t have to eat stupid fucking beans anymore.”

“and we don’t have to hear you complain about it,” the eldest boy teased, mimicking the younger’s actions as he got a feel for everything there was to offer.

you headed toward the back room, flicking the light on only to be greeted with a few makeshift mattresses the people here previously had left. you searched the drawers of the desk off to your right, greeted with a pad of paper and a pen as well as a few other items you found to be useful to the group.

you tossed everything into your backpack and put it to the side, opting to tidy up the beds so everything was neatly arranged and each of the three of you had a spot to sleep. The padding on the floor was much softer than you expected it to be and you almost screeched in excitement when you stumbled upon a closet filled with thick coats.

as you finished pulling them out of the closet, the other two were entering the room with grins adorning their faces. taerae saw you struggling to hold all the coats at once and came forward to help you, laughing at your misfortune when you dropped pretty much all of them on the floor.

without a word, you began going through them and found ones in your sizes or at least close to them, sighing in content at the feeling of warmth they gave you once you slipped them on. you closed the door to the office, settling down onto the mattresses with the other two.

“do we want to stay here for a little bit before we head out again? or do we want to try and find a house?” hanbin asked, finally breaking the silence between the three of you and the analytical part of his brain speaking for him.

you leaned back against the wall, your eyes trained on the ceiling, “i would be okay with either one. right now we’re at least guaranteed shelter, even if it’s only for a couple of days.”

“maybe we can stay for three or four days and see if we can find a house nearby,” taerae suggested. you all nodded, deciding that was the best plan you could come up with.

you were just glad to have something go your way for once.

iv.

you stirred around on your spot on the floor, groggily coming out of one of the best sleeps you’ve had in months. you felt deliciously warm, sandwiched in between both taerae and hanbin, who were also just beginning to wake up.

you smiled to yourself, propping your body up onto your elbow as your eyes scanned the area around you. it almost felt too good to be true, striking the jackpot with so much in one day. it was very rare the group of you ever had more than enough food to survive for a week, especially if there was more people with you, and here you were with everything you could have ever hoped for. you felt extremely grateful.

“why the hell are you up so early?” taerae groaned, flipping his arm over to look at the time on his watch before he covered his head with a pillow.

you chuckled at him, voice a hushed whisper so you didn't wake hanbin, who was still sleeping peacefully, “i don't know, i just couldn't sleep anymore.”

taerae huffed loudly before eventually sitting up, his hair tangled and messy and eyes still shut as he gained his bearings back. finally, he looked at you, playfully annoyed, and said, “i suppose you and i can rummage around for some more stuff while hanbin rests for a little longer. he never gets enough and he seems to actually be into a deep sleep.”

you peered over at the boy fondly, taking note of his soft snores and slightly agape mouth. taerae was right, and you did everything you could to be quiet before you left. you wrote a quick note on the pad of paper you found the previous day and left it where you slept so hanbin could easily find it if he woke up and you were still gone.

you followed taerae out of the office, careful to not close the door too loudly just in case any infected had wandered in overnight. you seemed to be in the clear, and almost welcomed the crisp morning air as it hit your face and filled your lungs. there were a few other buildings nearby, abandoned cars as well, so you decided to scope them out and see what they had to offer.

as you rummaged through a bag on the ground near one of the vehicles, taerae’s straightforward question caught you off guard, “are you ever going to tell hanbin that you like him?”

you were baffled, to say the least. you glanced up at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, before you finally managed to spit out, “that is not what i was expecting to talk about while we did this.”

“that's not an answer to my question,” taerae teased.

“no shit, sherlock,” you sarcastically remarked, deciding to keep a box of matches you'd found in that bag. you pondered his question before you answered him as you rose to your feet, avoiding eye contact and feeling yourself begin to blush, “i don't know, i mean, we’re in the middle of an apocalypse, i don't think it's the right time.”

“is there ever going to be a right time?”

his question made your mind start reeling. of course you'd /thought/ about telling hanbin, but you didn't want to ruin your friendship and most certainly didn't want to make things awkward considering you had to be around him until you either died and split off in your own ways. you thought he was way out of your league, anyway. there was no way he would ever like you back. you finally looked at taerae, a smug grin plastered on his face, and you stuck your tongue out, “quit being an ass.”

“y/n has a crush~” he sing-songed, skipping in annoying little circles around you and poking your sides annoyingly. you crossed your arms over your chest, giving taerae a blank stare until he stopped in front of you, his smile even wider now “you're blushing.”

you smacked his arm, earning a yelp from him, and hastily said, “no i’m not, it's just freezing out here.”

the two of you kept rummaging around, and after several minutes, taerae had done eerily quiet. you knew he was probably scheming something, because even amidst hell on earth, he always found a way to pull fast ones on you and hanbin. you shook your head, mentally preparing yourself for whatever it was he decided to do.

but nothing came, and you were beginning to get worried. you had your upper body inside of another car, legs still dangling outside, after seeing one of the windows rolls down, and you were trying your best to grab onto a bottle of rubbing alcohol in the passenger seat. you desperately lunged for it, but to no avail. you decided to see if you could find taerae and make sure he was still alive and breathing.

you attempted to shimmy your way backward out of the car, and felt panic set deep in your stomach at the feeling of something grabbing at your ankles. you tried like crazy not scream, but frantically began kicking in an attempt to get the infected off of you. a growl was able to be heard as it pulled you the rest of the way out the car, but you were able to get leverage and fully kick it off of you. turning around, you reached for your knife on your holster, fully prepared to kill it, but stopped with your hand gripping the handle upon seeing taerae standing behind you, mocking an infected far too well.

“damn it, taerae!” you exclaimed, whacking him on the chest with your hand, “i could have killed you!”

he pointed menacingly, “but you didn't.”

“having fun out there?” the sound of hanbin’s voice broke the two of you out of your bickering, heads turning to see him leaning against the door frame of the gas station convenience store, a small smile curling up the corners of his lips, “looks like he got you good, y/n.”

you groaned in annoyance, “i can't believe you saw that,” you pushed taerae for good measure, “and you thought it was funny.”

hanbin shrugged, laughing along with you, “what can i say, i love a good prank when i see it.”

you continued this little escapade at the gas station for a few days, more because the office was much warmer than outside and less because there was a plethora of supplies. all of the surrounding buildings ended up being a bust, completely ransacked before you even got there. thankfully you had the gas station, but it was only a matter of time before you would have to relocate. again.

the three of you were sat in the office on the foam pieces you'd been using to sleep on, looking at the map smoothed out in front of you to determine your next route. you pointed to a small town north of where you were, but before you could say anything about it, you were pulled from your thoughts at the sound of voices and rummaging out in the main area of the building. you turned to the other two, eyes wide in panic, “do you hear that?”

“yeah,” taerae was already moving to get up, his hand reaching for his gun placed on the desk beside him, “it sounds like people are trying to take our shit.”

“taerae, don’t” hanbin attempted to stop the younger boy from leaving the room, but his words went through one ear and out the other. his impulsivity never failed to amaze you.

you sighed, shaking your head as he opened up the door, completely giving away your location to whatever was out in the main lobby. you rose to your feet as well, quick to follow him out and grab his hand in a futile attempt to pull him back and keep him from going on an unintentional murder spree.

you were greeted by the bewildered gazes of a couple of boys, both very obviously malnourished and freezing, hands up in the air upon seeing taerae’s gun pointed at them. the boy in front of you two spoke up, subconsciously moving in front of the other one in a means to protect him from any harm.

“we aren't infected, i swear, we’re no threat to you,” his voice held both confidence and fear at the same time. you felt your gaze soften at their petrified expressions.

you heard a harsh slap. “ow!” taerae exclaimed, turning around to face the eldest in your group, who had a grin on his face. taerae's hand gingerly rubbing the back of his head.

he looked at the others, “you’ll have to excuse him, he can be a bit of a dickhead at times.”

you shoved taerae’s arm down, preventing him from holding the two at gunpoint any longer. he defeatedly sighed, tucking the weapon away into his pocket. he gave hanbin a scowl before muttering, “sorry.”

“that’s okay,” the taller boy spoke up, “we apologize for intruding, but we haven’t been able to eat for three days now and we were just happy to find supplies.”

“take whatever you want,” hanbin motioned to the shelves in front of them, a kind, gentle smile causing his eyes to take the shape of tiny crescents.

“thank you,” the boy opened up his bag, “i’m gunwook, by the way,” he motioned to the boy standing next to him, ”and this my brother, gyuvin.”

he smiled, giving a small wave, “nice to meet you.”

“nice to meet you too. i’m hanbin, and these are my friends taerae and y/n,” hanbin replied. he seemed almost giddy that you’d come across more people to speak and potentially form a group with.

you cleared your throat, pointing your thumb at the office, “you guys look like you’re freezing, we found some coats if you want some.”

a wave of relief washed over gyuvin, “yes please, this is all we’ve had since winter started creeping up. i’m surprised we haven’t gotten frostbite yet.”

you led him back into the room you slept in, opening up the closet door to reveal the remaining coats. you helped him find his size, and when he couldn't zip it up from how stiff his fingers were, you did it for him, smiling at him afterward. gyuvin smiled back, but it held a hint of sadness. you didn't want to inquire why, especially since you’d just met them.

he sifted through them and picked out one for gunwook. “thank you so much, really,” he sounded more grateful than you had felt when you first found them, “i’ve been really worried about what would happen the deeper we get into winter.”

“it’s not a problem. we weren’t going to use them anyway,” you looked at him as you began walking back to the rest of the group, “are you just passing through or finding somewhere to stay?”

gyuvin made eye contact with his brother, as if he were scared to say anything, but gunwook gave him a nod of approval. he parted his lips to speak, facing the entire group, “we’re actually headed to seattle.”

“for what?” taerae inquired, brows furrowed in thought, “from what i’ve heard, it’s a dead city.”

gunwook chimed in, “a few people we met not too long ago told us they were going out to try and find others to bring back to this community they’ve built and sent us on our way. apparently they have a farm, horses, and a lot more supplies than people like us could ever hope to have,” he seemed so hopeful at the prospect of so many resources.

“if you want, you guys can come with us. it would probably be a lot more beneficial to travel in a larger group anyway,” gyuvin offered, mainly making eye contact with hanbin since he was the one who appeared to have the most authority in your group.

he looked a bit hesitant, scanning the faces of both you and taerae, “do you guys want to talk about it?”

“yeah,” taerae was quick to answer, pointedly looking at the other two, feigning a fake smile, “we’ll be right back.”

the three of you locked yourselves away into the other room. taerae turned around, the expression on his face unreadable, but his words shocking both you and hanbin, “i think it’s a horrible fucking idea.”

hanbin scoffed, “and why is that?”

“these people literally just showed up not even ten minutes ago and you’re giving up our supplies and considering going with them to some community that we aren’t even sure exists,” taerae exclaimed, “plus, we /just/ lost the last of the other survivors we picked up. i’m sick of losing the people we grow close to.”

“i don’t know, taerae, i think we can trust them,” you told him, “besides, it’s better to have a larger group. you have to admit, traveling and finding supplies has been a lot harder with only three of us,” his shocked gaze met with yours and you did your best to reason with him, “they are extremely malnourished and only came to try and find food and you’re mad about that. what if it was us instead of them?”

he opened his mouth to retort something, but quickly closed it and shook his head, staring down at the floor. you gave hanbin a knowing look, a small smile on your face.

he nodded, “it’s settled then. we’re going to seattle.”

vi.

as you walked with your newly formed group, you couldn’t help but feel a little giddy. taerae was right; you were still navigating the feelings of your other group mates dying, but you were still less anxious when there was more of you together. you had almost given up hope that there even was anyone else.

taerae had remained silent almost the entire time you had been traveling. he was still nervous about grouping together with the strangers you had met the previous day, which you understood, but you were confused as to why it was suddenly a problem when you'd done it countless times before. another thing that bothered you was the fact that he was giving both you and hanbin the silent treatment. you scanned the other three in front of you, who were conversing about when they should set up camp for the night, and sighed, grabbing taerae's arm and making him wait until you were a few paces behind. hesitantly, you met your gaze with his, your voice as stern as you could make it when you spoke.

“what’s your problem?”

taerae looked taken aback by how blunt and straightforward you were with your question. his bewildered gaze almost immediately went back to the scowl he had previously been adorning. he shook his head, his response short as he said, “it’s nothing, y/n.”

“well, you sure aren’t acting like it’s nothing,” you retorted, rolling your eyes at how stubborn the boy was being. however, your gaze softened upon seeing his frown deepen, “talk to me. this isn’t like you.”

taerae pondered your words for a moment before finally admitting his worries to you, “i guess i’m just scared.” “scared about what?”

“getting close to them and losing them like we did the others. they could be selfish, too. we don’t know a single thing about them and if we get in a situation where someone’s life is on the line, i fear they’re going to leave us without much thought,” his voice grew quiet upon his confession. you swore you could feel your heart break in your chest at his next words, “i can’t lose you and hanbin.”

you reached out and laced your fingers with his, squeezing gently in reassurance and forcing him to look at you, “as long as you, hanbin, and i are loyal to each other, that’s all that matters, right? all we have to do is back each other up if the other two happen flake on us.”

taerae’s eyes were glossed over in clear appreciation for your words, his grip tightening on your hand, “thank you.”

“you don’t have to thank me. it’s what i’m here for,” you teased, nudging the boy playfully with your shoulder. the smile on his face was refreshing to see after having him upset the entire day since leaving the gas station.

the two of you caught back up with the rest of the group, who had come to a halt to scope out the area surrounding you all. the woods appeared to be significantly thicker, which provided more protection from any of the infected that lurked in the shadows at night. it would also be easier to make a shelter to sleep in overnight.

gunwook turned, asking the two of you, “what do you think?”

taerae was the first to speak, “i think it’s definitely a decent spot for now. it looks like we might be able to have an area for a fire as well.”

to say you were shocked was an understatement. hanbin shared a look with you, a grin threatening to tug at the corners of his mouth. you knew the eldest was worried that taerae was going to stay in his funk for days on end, but the look of relief was enough to cause you to feel it too. the boy winked at you, asking the group, “should we split into shifts to keep watch over everything?”

“i’m not opposed to the idea,” gyuvin piped up, pulling his coat closer to his body. it was clear he was still freezing despite having a lot more warmth than when you first met him, “i can take the first one if you want.”

it was your turn to pitch in, “i’ll join you, it’s best to work in teams of two.”

he gave you a grateful smile. you honestly thought that he’s someone you could wind up being really good friends with. you just wished it didn’t have to be because the apocalypse brought you together.

— — —

the evening came quickly once camp was set up for the night. hanbin and gunwook had managed to get a pretty decent fire going considering the fact that most of the wood you all found was damp or frozen from the snow. you all had welcomed the warmth with open arms.

since everyone was able to take most of the supplies from the gas station, the thin foam that you had used for mattresses the night before were now neatly laid out on the ground in a dense thicket of trees that had already formed somewhat of a shelter. It was certainly a lot better than what you, hanbin, or taerae had made in the past.

one thing taerae was particularly happy about was being able to warm up some of the food you guys had. he even accepted the beans with a smile instead of turning up his nose to them, which caused both you and hanbin to giggle at him.

the five of you sat around the fire, recounting your stories of what happened when the outbreak was first announced. taerae was laughing his head off, stating, “y/n really thought i was joking when i went into their room and told them what was happening.”

you threw a wadded up wrapper at him, “in my defense, he is constantly messing with me,” you looked at gyuvin and gunwook, who were laughing along with you, and joked, “watch out for him, because soon he'll be pranking you guys too.”

“what were you guys doing?” hanbin asked the two of them, and they sat deep in thought for a moment, gyuvin finally telling them, “i’m pretty sure we were staying the night at our brother’s house. if i’m remembering correctly, it was a friday, and we usually did stuff together after school.”

“yeah, it was, i think we were getting ready to go out to dinner,” gunwook added, “and instead of getting in the car normally, it felt like we were the main characters of an action movie or something. ricky drove like a maniac.”

you laughed at the image you had in your head of not only their experience, yours as well, “taerae ran one of our neighbors over when we were trying to get off of our street.”

gunwook’s eyes widened, his smile stretched from ear to ear as he said, “becoming a murderer early on, i see.”

your laughter began to die down as the sun started to set, and your playful conversation turned into solemn ones. hanbin stared at the dancing flames, quietly asking, “i hope this isn't prying too much, but how did it end up just being the two of you?”

gyuvin sighed. you could tell this was a touchy subject, but he was willing to answer hanbin's question, “he got turned not too long ago. we got ambushed by the biggest mob of infected we’ve ever encountered since the outbreak,” his voice cracked as he said the next part, “he shielded us the entire time we were fighting them.”

“he ended up getting bit and made us tie him to a tree so we would have time to run,” gunwook’s solemn gaze made your heart twinge in sadness for them. you couldn't imagine losing hanbin or taerae like that, if at all, and wondered how your new friends were even managing to push through.

taerae gave the pair a close-lipped smile, “it sounds like he was an amazing brother to have.”

“yeah,” gyuvin seemed deep in thought, a stray tear racing down his cheek, “he was.”

— — —

as soon as darkness engulfed the woods, gunwook, hanbin, and taerae settled down and drifted off to sleep, which left you and gyuvin sat by the fire to keep watch over the camp. the boy was sat across from you, his knees drawn up to his chest and his gaze fixed on the flickering flames that illuminated his face. he was practically glued to gunwook’s side.

softly, he questioned, “hey, can i ask you something?”

you glanced at him, confusion painted across your features, “of course, what’s up?”

he sighed. it looked like he was contemplating even saying something to begin with, but finally, after you assumed he won his internal battle, he asked, “does taerae hate gunwook and i or something? he seemed angry when we first met and i don’t want us to intrude on whatever the three of you were hoping to do.”

“no, he doesn’t hate you at all,” you reassured, which caused his shoulders to visibly relax. you fell silent for a moment, gazing over at the boy who was curled up as close to hanbin as the eldest would allow. he looked so at peace, which you rarely ever saw from him. you turned back to the boy across from you, “he’s just incredibly protective of the two of us. it’s really been only us together since the start of all of this and he doesn’t want to lose either of us, is all.”

“i completely understand that,” gyuvin replied, shifting to now lean back against the tree stump behind him, “i hope you never have to go through what we did, that's for sure.”

“could i ask you a question now?”

gyuvin nodded, “sure.”

“i noticed this the other day, but you just seem to get sad whenever i’m around, and i wanted to make sure it was nothing i was doing,” you were hoping that you didn't seem like you were accusing him of anything, and he most definitely didn't take it that way.

he offered a sad smile with his answer, “you just remind me a lot of ricky, is all. you guys are very similar in terms of personality.”

“well, i know i can't ever fill his spot, but i can still be there to support you throughout this entire journey we’re on.”

a small cry escaped gyuvin’s lips as he angrily wiped his tears away from his cheeks, “thank you, it really means a lot to hear that.”

once he collected himself, the two of you fell into a comfortable conversation, telling stories from your childhood and even some crazy ones of times where you thought you were going to die in the midst of the apocalypse. for the first time in a while, you felt content. at peace, even.

you hoped it would happen more often.

— — —

the woods were serene at night when you didn't have to fear for your life. the soft chirps of the crickets, the occasional hoot of an owl, and even the crackle of the fire brought you a sense of comfort and security you hadn't felt for a very long time; since the start of the apocalypse, really. but for whatever reason, you just couldn't sleep.

maybe it was because you were thinking back on your conversation with taerae and the concerns he expressed about losing you or hanbin. or maybe it was the added stress of gyuvin and gunwook’s story. it could have been something entirely different, but you just couldn't doze off for the life of you.

you huffed out a frustrated sigh, eventually sitting up from your cocoon on the ground and scanning the areas surrounding the fire. the only one awake was hanbin, taerae having dozed off again shortly after being woken up for his shift. hanbin insisted he didn't mind, especially since everything seemed to be relaxed, but you still felt bad he had to stay awake entirely on his own.

he glanced over at you, gentle smile quirking up the corners of his mouth as he whispered, “can’t sleep?”

you shook your head as a response, eventually making your way over to his post and plopping down next to him, the fire emitting a slightly warmer flow of air in your direction. hanbin peered down at you, a fond smile ever so slightly on his lips, and you swore the butterflies in your stomach might give your feelings away. instead, you scooted closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder and fixing your gaze on the fire.

you could feel the pressure of hanbin’s head resting on top of yours, his voice almost inaudible as he asked, “do you think anything will ever return to normal? like sometime in the future, do you think there's a chance things will go back to the way they used to be?”

a heavy silence hung in the air as you pondered his question, absentmindedly beginning to pick at a string hanging down from inside of hanbin’s coat sleeve. you could feel your eyes begin to gloss over as you thought about the nights you'd spend pestering hanbin while he attempted to do his coursework for college, or how you'd always give taerae advice on songs he'd written on his guitar. everything was so much simpler, so much /better./

“i don't think so,” you gave your honest response to him, “i mean, everything is destroyed and gone. it'll take years and years to even get rid of the infected, let alone rebuild the entire country to what it used to be,” a shaky sigh from you followed suit to your words, leaving hanbin to think on them.

he clicked his tongue, “then i guess we’ll have to make a new normal, right?”

“i suppose so,” you hummed, “but how would we go about that?”

“i don't know, but hopefully we’ll figure it out.”

conversations with hanbin were always something you treasured. he gave you new perspectives on things that you wouldn't have even considered before and logically thought through everything. you admired him for that, and it was one of the many reasons you developed feelings for him in the first place. but you knew, deep down, that you wouldn't be able to live the life you wanted with him. you doubted he even returned your feelings.

besides, there would always be infected in the way.

vii.

having new friends that you actually got along with made a huge difference in your travels. there was a lot more team work, laughs, and supplies that you were able to get your hands on. it was arguably the most productive you'd ever been and the quickest you had gotten to know strangers. it felt like you were friends for your entire life.

it didn't take gyuvin very long to catch on to your feelings for hanbin, and soon he was teasing you alongside taerae when you weren't in earshot of him. gyuvin’s antics were far less intense, and he asked you lots of questions about why you'd grown so fond of the eldest boy. he listened with open ears and was able to see the mannerisms that hanbin displayed easily after your conversations with him.

it felt nice to just gush to someone who would listen to you.

you were currently attempting to break into a shed to see if there was any useful weapons inside considering gyuvin’s was starting to give out on him. you lunged forward, hitting your hip into the rotted out door, and it gave way easier than you thought. you coughed as dust and wood chips rained down toward the dilapidated floors.

there was a lone infected inside, which was fighting for its life to even hobble over toward you, and you swiftly put it out of its misery, watching in disgust as it crumpled to the floor. you stepped over its now limp body, gyuvin's following closely behind, exploring the shed further than just standing in the doorway. you kept your knife out just in case you were to come across anymore, eyes scanning your surroundings in an attempt to fine something that would hold up.

“i don't think this is a question i asked you yet,” gyuvin broke the silence, “but have you ever considered telling hanbin how you feel?”

you had to hold back from bursting into a fit of laughter, taking a deep breath, before you chuckled, “you and taerae are so similar it's crazy.”

you ducked under a cobweb in front of you, careful not to disrupt it in fear of a spider crawling on you. gyuvin mimicked your actions, inquiring, “why do you say that?”

“he asked me the same exact thing.”

you were now standing in front of a wall of rusted weapons. gyuvin looked slightly defeated, but instead of dwelling on that, he turned his attention back to you, “well, it's not a horrible question. i mean, it's better late than never, right?”

you just giggled at him, crouching down to open up a door on a workbench, “i guess so. maybe i will someday, when we’re in seattle or something. that way if he rejects me, i’ll have a home to go into and sulk.”

gyuvin’s cackle echoed inside the barn. you flared up at him, pulling the machete you found out from the self, pointing it at him jokingly, before you threatened, “keep it up and i’ll cut your head off with this and feed it to an infected.”

“hey!”

you handed your find to gyuvin, who admired it in awe, mouth slightly agape and a plethora of thank you's slipping past his lips. the two of you made your way back outside, meeting up with the other three who were attempting to get a car started, but to no avail. gunwook was turning the key in the ignition but had no success of getting the engine to turn over.

“i take it this whole car thing is a lost cause?” you inquired, looking at the three of them inquisitively. taerae and hanbin had their heads underneath the hood of the car, inspecting the engine in order to, what you assumed, find out what was wrong with it.

gunwook attempted to turn the key again, and while the vehicle made sound, it was more along the lines of grinding than anything else. he finally looked at you and gyuvin, “i think so, we’ve been working on it for an hour now and nothing has worked.”

“i mean, we’ve walked this much already. we really can't miss what we never had, right?” gyuvin reasoned as he attached his new machete to is pants.

gunwook shrugged, “i suppose so,” he looked almost bummed out, “it just would have been nice to take a break from walking.”

hanbin shut the hood of the car, now gaining your attention. his hands were smeared with grease and a fine layer of sweat had broken out across his forehead. you blinked a few times, finally finding it in you to tear your eyes away from him.

you parted your lips to speak, motioning to the road ahead, “guess we better get moving while it's still light out.”

— — —

you’d volunteered to take the last shift of watch for the night. you knew you wouldn't really be able to sleep anyway, so you didn't mind, and would rather everyone else get some well deserved rest instead. this was a common thing for you now, not being able to sleep. you just couldn't get your mind to ever shut up. usually, it was creating the most morbid scenarios, which would either cause nightmares or for you to be so paranoid you felt you had to stay awake.

you supposed that's what came with life during an apocalypse, but it didn't make it any easier. you wished so badly that you could just go back to normal, or that this was just some cruel, twisted dream you could wake up from. but it wasn't, and you were stuck here fantasizing about a life you would never have again.

the fire crackled softly, illuminating the surrounding area in a peaceful orange glow. you could hear the soft breaths of everyone, a slight snore emitting from taerae, and you smiled to yourself. seeing the people you'd grown to care about so still and calm brought a sense of comfort to you, and almost made it feel like you were at a sleepover of some sort.

you heaved a sigh, drawing your knees up to your chest and resting your chin on your arms. you sat like that for a while, mind reeling with all the opportunities you were missing out on, and a stray tear raced down your face. there was gentle rustling next to you, and soon after, hanbin rose up from his place on the ground, a sleepy smile stretching across the expanse of his face.

“i feel bad you're not getting any rest,” his voice was raspy with sleep as he spoke. he shifted his body so he could be sitting up next to you. he extended his legs in front of him, a yawn catching him by surprise, “if you want to try and get some before we leave, i can take over watch.”

you pondered it for a moment, finally nodding in defeat, and began to stretch out on the ground yourself. however, he caught you off guard, putting his lap, and murmuring, “you can use me as a pillow if you want, i know not having one isn't the most ideal.”

you could feel your heartbeat in your throat at his offer, silently nodding as you shifted your weight around, finally settling onto the ground and lowering your head onto his thighs, a content sigh slipping past your lips. you had to admit, he was right, and you didn't think you would be doing this when you first woke up that morning. hanbin pulled the blanket over you, enveloping you in a warmth you hadn't felt in a very long time.

delicately, he threaded his fingers through your hair, and your eyes fluttered shut at the contact. you sighed contentedly, mumbling a soft, “thank you,” to which hanbin chuckled quietly.

the feeling of his hand massaging your scalp caused your body to relax much quicker than you thought it would, and you were soon fighting to stay awake and relish in the feeling of it. before you finally succumbed to sleep, you swore you could could hear him barely whisper, “i’ll be here when you wake up, my love.”

viii.

“y/n, hanbin, wake up!” a voice pulled you from the surprisingly deep slumber you had fallen into despite the frigidly cold temperatures. an extremely panicked voice, though, the person’s hands gripping your shoulder and shaking you lightly in an attempt to get you to hurry.

you shot up from your nest of blankets and hanbin’s legs, body close to taerae the moment you did so. your gaze locked with his, and instantly, you knew something was horribly wrong. he was quick to answer your suspicions, “infected, there’s a lot and we need to get moving,” hanbin cursed quietly under his breath next to you, angry at himself for even dozing back off in the first place.

quick to get on your feet, you began shoving the blankets into your bag - rather haphazardly, might you add - your hands shaking from the anxiety you felt from the situation. hanbin remained close to you throughout the process, packing away the food you guys had left sitting out through the night. you glanced around, taking note that the other three were still within your line of vision, and you felt slightly relieved knowing everyone was still in a general vicinity of one another.

a deep, rumbling growl resonated to the left of you. you turned, being greeted by an infected with outstretched arms haphazardly swinging at you, and his jaw hanging slack as he approached you. his flesh was missing in chunks around his cheekbones and his eyes were beginning to sink in from the disease. his hair was in matted, pale blonde tufts on his head. you’d never gotten the chance to actually see an infected’s features in tact like this before, and to say you were shocked was an understatement. he must have been freshly turned.

you scrambled backwards the closer he approached, pulling your knife out from its holster on your pant leg. however, the pained cry of gyuvin stopped you from killing it right then and there.

“ricky?”

the walker turned his head quickly at the sound of his name and you felt your heart lurch in your chest. the boy was attempting to run forward, but gunwook was able to wrap his arms around him before he could make it any further, “gyu, you can’t, there’s no saving him. you know that.”

you made eye contact with his brother, desperately searching for what to do, but his solemn and knowing expression told you everything. he turned gyuvin around, pulling him close to his chest, one of his hands holding the back of his head as he sobbed, “don’t look, okay?”

to ensure you didn’t overthink what you were about to do, you swung your knife forward, sinking it deep into the side of ricky’s neck. he sputtered loudly, dark crimson blood spraying out from the wound and onto your hand and sleeve of your jacket, some of it speckling on your face in the process. you twisted the knife and pressed your boot to his chest to shove him away as he fell, throwing your bag onto your back in a haste.

“come on, there’s more following in behind him,” hanbin grabbed onto your arm the moment you hesitated, realizing just exactly what you had done.

it wasn’t supposed to be difficult killing infected, yet here you were.

you followed behind him, meeting up with the rest of the group before everyone began to run on the same road you had been following to seattle. none of you really had time to take in everything that had happened in the past five minutes due to the large mob following hot on your trail, their wicked screams echoing through the empty fields that surrounded you.

your breathing was erratic, legs and lungs both burning from the amount of energy you were putting into getting away from them. the road was slick with thick ice and it made it difficult to get any sort of traction. over the yelling, you were able to make out taerae’s voice, “keep an eye out for any kind of shelter!”

you squinted, scanning for anything up ahead that could prove useful to the group of you. however, gunwook was the first to notice something, “right over there! it looks like an old farmhouse!”

you took a sharp turn onto the gravel driveway that led up to quite a tucked away house, pushing your legs to go faster. the sooner you got there, the better it was for the group overall. the mob behind you was starting to lessen the more you ran, thankfully, and by time you got to the front door the five of you only had to kill a few before you could stop and catch your breath.

nobody hesitated to go inside, careful to clear each room and make sure infected hadn’t wandered in. taerae rounded the corner of the kitchen, announcing, “i think we’re safe for now. we should probably rest for a minute before we leave again.”

“would it hurt to explore? see what this place has to offer?” gyuvin asked, the tremble in his voice hard to miss as he spoke. tears stained his face, streaked through the layers of dirt caked on his cheeks and revealing the pale skin beneath it. he was suffering, and rightfully upset, so you knew there was no consoling him until he was able to calm down and have some time to just himself.

hanbin gauged everyone’s reactions, eyes resting on your blood splattered face, gaze softening. he parted his chapped lips, stating, “honestly, depending on what’s here, we could always stay for a few days and actually think of a better plan instead of just winging it and something like this happening again.”

“i’d have to agree on this one,” gunwook replied, “i don't want something like that to ever happen again, really.”

everyone wordlessly began to rummage around in the house, searching for anything that could be useful. you took note of how clean the place was despite the apocalypse occurring in the outside world. you turned into the bathroom, twisting the knob of the faucet on as a joke, only to be pleasantly surprised at the sound of running water. “guys! the water here works!” you called, dipping your finger under the stream, excitement bubbling into the pit of your belly, “and it’s warm!”

“the pantries and fridge are stocked full of food as well,” hanbin piped up, the excitement evident in his voice, “and there’s power? this place is loaded!”

“the people who were here previously must either be out or newly turned,” taerae remarked.

it only brought you to the harsh reality of what had just happened.

your gaze snapped up to your reflection in the mirror. ricky’s blood managed to get smeared across your cheek and mixed into the dirt and grime that had made a home on your skin quite some time ago now. your hand was stained red and your sleeve still heavily damp with blood, which you swore you could smell, and it made you feel sick.

you hurriedly shut the door and fell to your knees in front of the toilet, wretching at the stench and realization that you killed someone’s brother, gyuvin and gunwook’s brother, and you had to live with that for the remainder of time you were with them. a soft cry pushed out of your lungs as you vomited again, completely emptying the contents of your stomach, and you felt you couldn't do it another time. you flushed the toilet and sighed, staring at yourself in the mirror once more.

a quiet knock was able to be heard on the bathroom door and you opened it, greeted by hanbin, who’s eyes were concerned and his lips were contorted into a deep frown. “y/n?” hanbin’s voice was soft, “are you okay?”

and you burst into tears.

hanbin pulled you close, his embrace strong around your body. you were sure you’d collapse onto the ground if he wasn’t holding onto you at that moment. he rocked your bodies slightly, humming into your ear as a means to calm you down in some sort of way, “you did what you had to do. gunwook wouldn’t have told you to do it if he didn’t think it was necessary.”

you tried like hell to get the butterflies in your stomach to go away as he pressed a quick, comforting kiss to the crown of your head. not when you had just killed gyuvin’s brother and you were reaping the consequences of that.

you shook your head, getting ready to respond to him, but were stopped by the sound of gyuvin choking on his sobs as he sat on the couch. gunwook’s voice attempted to comfort him, “i know it hurts, but you and i both know ricky would rather be put out of his misery than stay infected.”

“i could have prevented this all, wook, that’s the problem.”

“don’t do that to yourself. he wouldn’t have let you stay with him no matter the circumstances,” gunwook reassured him, “let’s go see about a bath for you and clean up, yeah? maybe that’ll make you feel better.”

their voices faded away as they headed upstairs. you gripped onto hanbin tighter, fists balled into the fabric of his jacket, letting out your own cry. you wouldn't blame gyuvin if he hated you for the rest of your time together. you would be angry if the roles were reversed, so you couldn't even fault him for that.

“y/n, i think maybe we need to do what gyuvin and gunwook are doing and get you cleaned up,” hanbin was gentle with you, pulling away from the hug slightly to get a better look at your face. his thumb came up to wipe the fresh tears away from your eyes, and you found solace in how nicely he was treating you.

you sat there for a moment, relishing in the feeling, before you pulled out of the hug to avoid getting overwhelmed with any more emotions, shrugging your jacket off to rid yourself of the reminder of what you’d done not even an hour ago. you sat down on the toilet after putting the lid down and allowed hanbin to get a shower started, your entire body going numb in the process.

at this point, you hoped an infected would take you.

viiii.

you felt unusually warm, though you weren’t complaining in the slightest. sighing softly, you shifted around on the mattress beneath you, tired eyes attempting to open but failing miserably. an arm was slung lazily around you, soft breaths of the sleeping boy in front of you the only thing able to be heard other than the rustling of the blankets.

you finally gained the energy to open your eyes, at least halfway, and you were greeted by the sight of a peaceful looking hanbin, his hair sitting beautifully across his forehead and his lips curled up slightly in the corners.

your heart felt like it was found to beat out of your chest. You had cuddled with both him and taerae a number of times throughout your attempts to survive, but never like this. you were the only one in the room with the dark haired boy, eyes trained on his serene face and your stomach doing backflips.

hanbin took a deep breath, his eyelids fluttering open, and he gazed at you with a quiet chuckle. he parted his lips to speak, voice deep and raspy from having just awoken from his slumber, “good morning, sleepyhead.”

“i don’t think i’m the sleepyhead here,” you giggled, poking your index finger into his chest, “i was awake way before you were.” you paused before asking, “how did i end up in your bed, anyway?”

though he woke up with a slightly playful demeanor, it quickly faded with a frown that tugged harshly at his lips, his brows creased and his eyes searching yours, “i figured you were too out of it to remember. you had a really rough night trying to grasp the fact that you killed ricky. taerae had fallen asleep relatively early and i just offered for you to sleep in here so you didn’t have to be alone.”

you were so caught up in the bliss of feeling safe and warm you almost forgot about ricky.

hanbin caught on quickly to your mood change and to the fact that tears instantly glossed your eyes over. he reached his hand out, calloused thumb collecting the liquid as it dropped down onto your cheeks.

“you did what you had to,” he reassured.

all you had to offer him was a sad smile, “it definitely doesn’t feel like it. i wouldn’t be surprised if gyuvin doesn’t talk to me at all, i know if the roles were reversed i wouldn’t say a thing to him.”

he opened up his arms for you, inviting you to snuggle deeper into his chest. you obliged, allowing the boy to hold you while soft sobs erupted from your lips. quietly, he said, “once he realizes you did it out of good intentions he’ll come around. i know he will.”

you nodded, trying your best to convince yourself that what he was telling you had some sort of truth to it. you closed your eyes and relished in the boy's embrace, fearing that he would be able to hear how loud your heart was beating while you laid with him like this. you felt his lips graze your forehead, his warm breath fanning across your skin as he said, “i have something i wanted to tell you.”

you opened your eyes back up at his words, looking at him inquisitively, “what's that?”

“i know now might not be a good time, but i just wanted to tell you that i have a c-”

he was interrupted by the sound of knuckles rapping against the door to your shared room, “hanbin?” taerae’s voice called from the other side.

the door knob twisted and he swung it open, beginning to step into the room before stopping dead in his tracks at the sight of the two of you cuddled up together. his posture was still and something unreadable flashed in his eyes, his tone monotonous as he spoke, “apparently i’m interrupting something, but i just wanted to let you know that gunwook is almost done cooking breakfast for whenever you decide to join us.”

with that, he shut the door rather harshly in his wake, the sound of his heavy footsteps receding down the stairs the only thing filling the silence he left behind. sighing, hanbin was the first to speak, “i assume he’s in one of his moods.”

“probably so,” you agreed with a nod, “i’m going to head down and attempt some sort of damage control. maybe we can finish this conversation later?”

hanbin nodded, “okay, i’m going to change my clothes and i’ll be down after that,” he replied offering you a soft, reassuring smile as you slipped your boots on and opened the door.

once you reached the dining room, you took note of taerae’s hostile attitude as he shoved scrambled eggs down his throat, his facial features set in a deep scowl. he looked up when you entered, shoving his chair back, the legs scraping harshly against the floor. the boy rose to his feet and stalked past you, spitting, “i’m going on a walk.”

“you can’t go alone, it’s too dangerous,” gunwook called out in an attempt to get taerae to stay within the confines of the farmhouse.

taerae scoffed, “i don’t think i fucking asked.”

he stepped out onto the front porch and began walking down the gravel driveway, his hands shoved into his pockets as he did so. you heaved a sigh, “i’ll go with him. i think it’s me he’s upset with anyway.”

“just be safe, we can’t afford to lose anyone,” gyuvin’s voice was quiet, but you still gave him an appreciative smile before following taerae out the door.

you broke into a jog to catch up with his long stride, finally managing to walk beside him. you grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. searching his eyes, you asked, “what’s wrong? did i do something?”

a look of annoyance adorned his face as he shook your hand away, “when i said i was going on a walk, i meant /without you/.” he started walking again, this time his pace much quicker than before in an attempt to get you to go back to the house. however, you were just as stubborn as he was. you stood your ground and continued following him.

“i don’t think it’s very fair for you to be in a pissy mood with everyone and not give a reason as to why,” you snapped, now gaining his full attention as he whipped around to face you, anger evident in his eyes.

“you’re joking, right? /i’m/ the one being unfair?” he scoffed, “that’s rich coming from you, y/n.”

you gave him a dry laugh, rolling your eyes in the process, “i don’t even know what i did.”

“go ask your new boyfriend, i’m sure he could know.”

“so that’s what you’re upset about? we literally just shared a bed,” your futile attempt to reason with him went in one ear and out the other as he turned his back to you again and trudged onto a path in the woods, his fists balled up beside him.

he suddenly stopped in a clearing, his shoulders tensing and his head bowed as if he were contemplating something. he sucked in a breath, though you didn’t expect him to raise his voice at you, “i don’t think you’re capable of understanding signs that are put directly in front of you and it’s so fucking frustrating!”

“i genuinely don't know what you're talking about taerae, please just tell me so we can fix it,” you shouted back, “it's not okay to just yell at me and not give a reason why.”

taerae closed his eyes and took a deep breath, almost as if to calm himself down, and in a completely different tone he said, “i just feel like you and hanbin are excluding me. it's obvious you two like each other and i just feel like an outcast now.”

“first of all, i doubt hanbin likes me back,” you started, holding your hand up to hush him when he tried to interrupt you, “and second, i’m sorry if we have made you feel that way. i never want you to feel sad because of something i have done, so i will do better and fix it.”

taerae nodded, “i’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“it's okay, if you have any other issues just come to me like this instead of getting mad and storming out,” you playfully scolded, beginning to walk back toward the house. hanbin was stood in the doorway watching the two of you, a fond smile on his face.

taerae leaned over, whispering in your ear, “he's crazy about you, trust me.”

you blushed a deep red, smacking him on the arm, “stop it!”

“just speaking the truth,” he shrugged matter-of-factly, unable to suppress the grin on his face as he bounded up the stairs and greeted hanbin, returning to the dining table to finish up his breakfast.

you stopped outside, locking your gaze with hanbin's, trying like crazy not to blush or make it obvious that you were flustered. he was quick to ask, “is everything okay now?”

“yeah, he just needed calmed down,” you told him, laughing as you said, “i’m shocked we didn't get attacked by infected with how loud he was yelling.”

“maybe he scared them away,” hanbin mused.

hanbin allowed you to enter the house first, muttering something about how you should have grabbed a jacket because it's freezing out, and you playfully bantered as you sat at the table with the rest of the group. you were across from taerae, who gave you a knowing look, and you had to look away from him.

it was comical to watch him try not to yell because you kicked him under the table.

your group had made the decision to stay at the farmhouse until you ran out of resources. its owners never returned, never fended you away from their property or supplies, and you sure as hell didn't want anyone else to take it from you. besides, if you could be stable there for a bit, it would give ample time to rest and complete your journey to seattle when it was warmer outside.

spring came quicker than you'd hoped, but while the weather was still unpredictable, you didn't plan on going anywhere. instead, you build a functioning garden to at least try and sustain yourselves as much as possible, opting to grow some vegetables. you mainly took care of them, which is where you were currently, your hands deep in the potting soil in an attempt to move a few of your crops around to some bigger pots you'd found in the shed a couple days ago.

your heart jolted in your chest when a figure crouched down next to you, but soon relaxed upon seeing it was hanbin, offering you a helping hand, “i always feel bad you're out here doing this on your own most days.”

“i don't mind it, really,” you shrugged, scooping up some dirt in your hand and patting it around the plant to stabilize it in its new home, “it brings a little bit of comfort, reminds me of the days before the outbreak.”

he nodded in understanding, helping you finish up what you were doing before he quietly asked, “wanna go for a walk?”

you weren't sure why he was suddenly asking this, but you could use a break to stretch out your legs. you you wiped your hands off on your jeans to shake the excess dirt off, and then ran them under the water spigot to clean them as much as you could. hanbin opened up the gate after you signaled you were ready, allowing you to go first and step down onto the path you used to walk down to the creek in the woods.

a comfortable silence fell between the two of you, the quiet chirps of the birds filling your ears and the cool breeze ruffling through your hair. it was peaceful, and you had to admit, it was bringing you a sense of happiness you hadn't felt in such a long time.

hanbin stopped once he got to a clearing, settling down on a patch of grass by the water and patting the spot next to him for you. plopping down almost instantly, you quirked an eyebrow up at him, questioning, “is there any particular reason we’re here?”

while you expected him to say he just wanted to make sure you were giving yourself a break, he surprised you by answering, “yeah, actually, there is.”

you cocked your head to the side, silently urging him to go on. he nervously swallowed, finally turning to face you, a sudden confidence dancing in his dark irises, “you know that conversation we were having a couple weeks ago before taerae threw his tantrum?”

“yes?” you answered hesitantly, not entirely sure where he was wanting to go with this. you felt the butterflies in your belly begin to dance when you took note of the way his eyes briefly flickered down to your lips, but it was over as soon as it happened.

“well, um, i just wanted to finish that conversation, because it's been bothering me for a while and i just need to get this out.”

his burning gaze met yours, a fond smile curling up the corners of his mouth. you could feel your heart begin to beat in your chest, praying to god he couldn't tell how visibly flustered you were. he reached his hand up to brush a strand of your hair out of your face, parting his lips to speak, “i have a crush on you, y/n, i have for a while.”

while it was a simple confession, it was something you would treasure for the rest of your life. it was a breath of fresh air amidst chaos and fear, something that made you feel like you were floating for the first time since the outbreak. you felt stupid smiling so big, but to mask your hint of embarrassment, you told him, “i have a crush on you too, bin. i feel like it's been obvious.”

“not really,” he said, “i could kind of pick up little hints, but it was nothing too major. you honestly held it in well, i was worried you wouldn't return the feelings.”

“well, i promise i do.”

hanbin took your relaxed stance as a sign cup your cheek with his hand, inching closer and closer, finally muttering, “can i?”

you timidly smiled, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks, “of course.”

without any hesitation, he closed the distance between the two of you, melding your lips together perfectly. you weren't sure if it was because he was hanbin, and he was perfect already, or if it was because this moment had been anticipated for so long by the both of you, but it was everything you could have ever asked for. he filled you with warmth and made you melt into his touch. your eyes fluttered shut, relishing in the moment before he broke away, his forehead pressed against yours, “i can't wait to do that more often.”

“me either,” you smiled, leaning forward again to steal another kiss from him, “i think i could get used to it.”

the two of you decided to scrounge around and look for any useful supplies before you went back to the farmhouse. you found a canteen and a gas lantern by the water, assuming someone had left it there - whether it was on purpose or not, you'll never know - and attempted to find anything else before you began your trek back up the trail to the farmhouse.

you began laughing the moment you caught sight of taerae on the front porch a “thank fucking god” erupting from

his lips the moment he saw your fingers intertwined with one another. he said something along the lines of it being painful to watch the mutual pining and no one making a move. you nudged him playfully, admitting to him that he was right.

your group would be leaving out within the next few weeks, and you anticipated everything seattle had to offer you, and you could only hope it would be as good as this.

it was close.

xi.

saying goodbye to the farmhouse was a lot harder than you hoped it would be. while you knew it was for the best, it killed you to leave running water, a thriving garden, and cozy bed to sleep in every single night. you knew you would have those things in seattle, but the remainder of the traveling there was going to be difficult, mainly because you'd all gotten spoiled on the luxury of not worrying about where you'll be staying.

you set out on the rest of your journey early that morning, backpacks filled to the brim with supplies and plenty of food and water to get you through what you hoped would only be a week. you didn't run into many issues along the way, and had made an agreement to meet on the outskirts of the city if everything went wrong; and you hoped it wouldn't.

the air was thick with humidity, and the feeling of grime caked on your skin wasn't something you missed by any means. you were filled with hope upon seeing a metal sign on the side of the road, and while it was rusting and filled with holes, you saw the words outlines clearly in white, highly contrasting with the green background.

seattle, 1 mile.

you gave hanbin’s hand a firm squeeze, peering up at him

through your lashes, and feeling tears sting at your eyes. you were finally almost to the place you would call home, where you could get as normal of a life as possible, and you'd be able to do it with your friends and boyfriend. maybe, just maybe, it was finally your time to have something really good happen for you.

“what kind of food do you think they make there?” gyuvin asked, earning laughs from most of the group, and you all began to make small talk of what was to come, unknowingly picking up your pace.

the sun was beginning to set, casting a beautiful glow across the horizon, and illuminating the sight in front of you. it was breathtaking, and making you all the more excited to finally get inside the safety of the gates that lie ahead.

but the harsh reality was, in this lifetime, nothing good lasted forever.

something felt off as you approached the edge of the city. there were no signs of life to be found; you were greeted with empty streets and eerie silence. taerae stopped in his tracks, eyes frantically searching the map, a mantra of “no, no, no” falling from his lips at a million miles a minute.

“what's wrong?” gyuvin inquired, peeking over taerae's shoulder to see if he could figure it out himself, but to no avail. taerae folded up the map in frustration, shoving it in his back locked, and turning to the group to say, “there is no settlement.”

gunwook’s voice held a hint of worry, “why do you say that?”

taerae chuckled frustratedly, spinning around with his arms wide open, motioning to the deserted, crumbling city around you, “we went exactly to the place you said those people told you to, and here we are, with no other person in sight,” he quickly met gazes with you and hanbin, “we're completely doomed.”

“maybe we can try going back to the farmhouse, we were doing so well there,” hanbin suggested, attempting to bring some sort of level headedness to your current situation, but taerae was far from receptive to it.

he began walking around, his behavior growing a little more irrational. he turned around, pointing at gyuvin and gunwook, who both adorned bewildered looks, and stated through gritted teeth, “this is all your fault, i knew we shouldn't have listened to you.”

“kim taerae!” you intervened, catching the attention of the dark haired boy, a glint of anger evident in his expression, “you are being a little ridiculous, we can figure something out.”

“no, we can't,” he scoffed, “we traveled miles and miles and miles to be greeted with nothing, i feel like my frustration is completely justified,” taerae allowed a yell to rip through his lungs, the sole of his boot loudly stomping on a bent “welcome to seattle” sign that had made its home on the crumbling concrete beneath you.

before anyone could hush him, or ask if he was stupid, the resonating sound of infected filled your ears, but it was unlike anything you'd ever heard before. it sent panic shooting straight to the pit of your stomach, and it wasn't long before the filled your line of vision completely.

hundreds of them.

the five of you began to run, desperately trying to stick together, but it was proving to be a lot more difficult than you thought. you heard hanbin holler a “split up” before you headed off into different directions, gyuvin and gunwook together one way, and your original trio the other. you clung to hanbin's hand for dear life, keeping careful watch of taerae to make sure he was keeping up.

you were all too soon met with a fork in your path, and hanbin was quick to think on his feet, letting go of your hand and pushing you toward taerae with an apologetic smile, quickly telling him, “make sure to keep them safe.”

you let out a cry, “hanbin, no!” but it was too late, because he was taking a pipe and banging it on a dumpster nearby, gaining the attention of the infected that had been hot on your trail, and pushing his legs to move him faster down the alley and out of your line of vision.

you attempted to run after him, but taerae grabbed your arm and pulled you back. you shook yourself from his grasp, screaming through your tears, “we can't leave him, taerae,” a sob raking over your body, “please!”

“hanbin will be fine, y/n, he always is,” taerae reasoned with you, “he'll make it back to us and you know it.”

before you could argue with him anymore, taerae was grabbing your arm again and dragging you along with him, attempting to find the edge of the city again. your legs were burning with each push you made to keep running, and by time you finally made it to a clearing, your lungs felt like they could collapse at any given moment.

you desperately looked around, trying to find hanbin, or gyuvin and gunwook, and your eyes finally settled on the trembling figures of the two brothers on the ground up ahead, panting hard and trembling from the realization of the events that just occurred.

you caught up to them, but before you could say anything, you turned around to face taerae, finally allowing the rage you'd managed to keep at bay during that mess to unleash itself on him, “i cannot believe you would put our whole group on jeopardy like that,” you stepped toward him, palms of your hands meeting his chest and shoving him backwards, “you made hanbin feel like he had no choice but to sacrifice himself so we could live, you know that right?”

taerae’s mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, not knowing what at all to say to you. scoffing, you said, “you are so fuckinh selfish.”

with that, you stormed off, ignore everyone’s futile attempts of getting you to calm down. the three ended up following behind you, making sure to keep your remaining group together as night approached, and you eventually stopped and set up camp for the night, but refused to utter a single word to taerae.

you could only hope hanbin would survive the night.

— — —

you and the other three waited on the outskirts of the city like you planned, anxiously awaiting hanbin’s arrival to your small camp, if it ever came. it had been hours now, and you were still not speaking to taerae, now having graduated to refusing to look at him. his attempts at apologizing to you were futile, because he knew sorry would never be enough to heal the ache in your heart and the constant worrying on your mind.

as the morning sun broke through the sky, you sat in front of the smoldering fire, knees drawn up to your chest and eyes stinging with fresh tears. gyuvin was sat down next to you, his hand rubbing your back in a comforting way, his presence greatly appreciated, but you had a hard time croaking anything out.

a flash of brilliant red came into your vision, causing you to finally tear your gaze away from the ashes before you, seeing a rain of fiery glitter shimmering down from the sky in waves. you blinked a few times, wondering if your mind was playing tricks on you, but gyuvin had stopped rubbing your back in return for staring at the sight before you, mouth agape.

it had to be hanbin.

you began silently packing your things into your backpack, gyuvin closely following suit, but you were interrupted by taerae’s voice piercing the silence, “what are you doing?”

“what's it matter to you?” you snapped, managing to look at him, nostrils flaring in annoyance. he held his hands up in defense. muttering, “i’m just trying to watch out for you, y/n.”

you stepped toward him, teeth gritted and your patience with him wearing dangerously thin. you pointed to the color illuminating the sky, your words assertive, “that could be hanbin, and i’ll be damned if you stop me from going to look when you're the reason this happened in the first place. whether you come or not isn't my problem, but if you want to prove you're worthy of forgiveness, you’ll come with.”

you turned on your heels, back now facing him, and met the determined gazes of gyuvin and gunwook, who signaled they were ready to follow you back into the heart of the city.

you trudged onward, careful not to let the thudding of your boots draw attention to you, and glanced behind your back, taking note of taerae following suit. good.

it wasn't long before you made it through the entrance to the forgotten city, and you slunk against walls to keep a low profile in case a hoard of infected were still nearby. you felt your heart beating in your throat, a layer of sweat now coating your forehead in anticipation for what was to come.

another flare was lit, this time much closer to where you previously were. you dashed across the street from one alley to the next, taking note of the same dumpster that hanbin had hit before he ran on his own path. you figured following it wouldn'td hurt, and led your group onward through the maze of rubble, the stench of the flare smoke now filling your nostrils.

before you could take another step forward, gunwook grabbed your hand and pulled you back down into a crouch, his finger pressed over his lips before he pointed ahead, a bus in the distance, but a crowd of about 15 infected surrounding it. they seemed desperate to get something, and as your eyes trailed up, you realized it was someone.

hanbin.

he looked up, a wave of relief washing over his face upon seeing the four of you few yards away from him, and you fought back your tears as you made a cutthroat motion to the other theee, quietly creeping along the edge of the road, planning to sneak attack the infected.

taerae was the first to leap forward, twisting an infected’s neck with a sickening crack. its body crumpled to the ground, falling entirely lifeless within an instant, and it didn't take long for the rest of you to follow in his footsteps. you swung forward, your motions eerily similar to when you killed ricky months back, blood sputtering out from the infected and soaking through your clothes.

but this time, you didn't care. you continued your actions, the putrid smell of iron and rotting flesh violating your nose, but within a few minutes the crowd was gone, and you were surrounded by bodies on the road. you quickly entered the inside of the bus, noticing there was only a few seats left inside, and a previously made shelter from someone else having been made in the back.

taerae pulled the doors shut to prevent any other infected getting inside, visibly relaxing once he realized your group was safe for now. hanbin slipped down from the top of the bus, his hair disheveled, and exhaustion evident in his expression and body language. you moved forward to give him a hug, but he stepped back, shaking his head at you.

you felt your stomach twist in a knot, “hanbin?”

his next words were ones that would have made you fall to your knees if he wasn't standing directly in front of you, “i got bit.”

it felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the small space, the entire group falling into a dreadful silence.

you blinked back tears for millionth time in the last few hours, swallowing harshly as you met your eyes with his, desperately trying to see if he was pulling some cruel joke. you laughed, “no, no that's not possible! you're fine hanbin, you don't have to pull my leg like that.”

his frown only deepened, and he took a step forward, pulling the sleeve of his jacket up to reveal a gnarly wound on the inside of his forearm, the resemblance of teeth marks deeply penetrating his skin. blood oozed from the gashes, and the flesh surrounding it appeared as though had already begun to rot away.

“what are we going to to do?” taerae asked, and you almost turned around to slap him, but somehow managed to contain yourself.

hanbin’s expression said everything you needed to know. his next sentence was quiet, and had the nobody there been completely still, you wouldn't have been able to hear it, “i’m going to have to take care of it myself, i won’t let the virus take over. i don't want to be one of them.”

“hanbin, no,” taerae said, “we can't just let you kill yourself, there has to be another way.”

“but there's not, taerae,” hanbin’s tone was gentle but firm, “there's no cure, and i won't be able to handle being one of those disgusting creatures,” a tear raced down his cheek, “i have no other choice, unless one of you do it for me, and i would never ask that of you.”

you didn't feel like yourself as the gears turned in your head, before you finally asked, “can we at least say goodbye?”

his eyes softened, and he nodded in return. you let the others go before you, gunwook and gyuvin going first, thanking him for allowing them to tag along, and always making sacrifices to make sure everyone else was taken care of.

you didn't miss the sobs shaking taerae’s body when he went, their hug the tightest one you had ever seen. “i’m so sorry” moving past his lips repeatedly, and hanbin kept reassuring him quietly. the two had a quiet conversation, hanbin’s gaze intensely staring into taerae in what you assumed was advice on how to move forward.

and then it was your turn.

your legs felt like jelly as you collapsed into his embrace, his arms sturdy and the scent of his cologne having barely lingered on his clothes as you burning your face into his chest. you could feel him breaking down, and the two of you cried more than you ever have before. he pulled back a little bit, pressing a deep, loving kiss onto your lips, and you could taste the salt of your tears mixing in between.

he looked at you, adoration in his eyes, as he whispered, “i love you, y/n.”

your bottom lip quivered, and you were barely able to get out an “i love you” in return, relishing in your final moment with him. you shifted a bit, slipping your dagger out from the inside of your sleeve. you pushed it between his ribs, hearing him softly grunt in pain, and a quiet “thank you” coming from him.

he grew weaker by the minute, and you helped him lower to the ground. laying him down on his back and settling down next to him, your hand coated with the warm bloom spilling from his body. your free hand reached up and pushed his hair out of his eyes. thumb moving down to collect his tears as his eyes fluttered shut and the breath left his body.

your pained weeping echoed throughout the barren wasteland around you, and you wanted so badly to turn back time, to do something differently, because if you did, he would still be alive. you'd still be searching for seattle.

but seattle wasn't real, and the boy you loved was taken from you by the very thing you hated the most.

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neurologicalanguish · 2 months

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pathetic and sad and depressed leon thoughts cause he’s a dumb fuckin loser who should die (i would do anything he told me) erm… this is also my first post so… bare with me

cw/tw: olderbf!leon(age gap not specified), erectile dysfunction(i know, not my fault he’s a pathetic traumatised mf…), suicidal ideation, nsfw after read more, slight misogyny, porn addiction, choking kink, reader has afab anatomy, nonchalant leon…

would definitely thrash and cry in his sleep sometimes, the amount of horror and gore he’s experienced first hand wouldn’t be taken away just cause he has a pretty thing like you to love.

i feel like he’s always so detached and constantly disassociating that whenever you try to initiate something, anything at all, he just sort of does it out of inertia, just so you can get the relief you want.

he’d be rubbing lazy circles on your clit as you cling and squirm against him, as he has you all nuzzled into his chest with his arm under your head.

but that fucker is probably thinking about something else entirely, he’s just glad you haven’t gotten sick of him yet. how you still so desperately seek his love and validation.

sex doesn’t excite him anymore, sure, he needs to stick his cock in something warm and wet from time to time, but he’s fucked so much in his youth that he doesn’t even see the appeal of it anymore. not to mention the porn addiction he had…

hours on end, just spent in front of magazines, or shitty cassette tapes, that were so old and fucking beat that he’d have to fix them himself in order to not have the whore’s moans sound like they’re from within the depths of hell because the cassette would play in slow motion.

how he’d gotten so desensitised to anything that had to do with sex, that at one point he needed to start reading erotica, just to get his dick hard. he’d just sit on the shitty mattress of the floor of the apartment he was supposed to call “home” , while watching the TV playing porn, like it was some fuckin’ game show.

so it doesn’t come as a surprise, at least to him, that with the years, he doesn’t find pleasure in sex, or anything at all really.

but when he sees such a pretty thing like you, so pathetic and constantly begging him to be pounded, guilt would just wash over him, saying to himself that “it’s the least i could do for the fuckin’ world, right?”

so again, he’d have you under him, peppering wet kisses on your neck, or choking you sometimes. how he’d wish to actually snap your fragile neck at times, it didn’t help when your skin would turn slightly pale, it was almost like it was doing something for him, but he decided to ignore it.

his aging, and the shitty way he had lived up until the time you met him, and even as he’s with you, doesn’t attenuate the fact that his “stupid fuckin’ useless cock” doesn’t even wanna work anymore. he feels so pathetic and helpless. he’d rather jump off a bridge, the sound of his body weight reverberating on cold harsh concrete, as his corpse splays out in a million fuckin’ particles as it hits the ground, leaving behind just a burgundy mess of what was once your “handsome old man” , than have to explain to you that he doesn’t wanna fuck, his dick doesn’t work.

he just tries to be grateful for what he has, at least you cook good food. he’ll keep attending to your needs, eating you out, buying you toys, fiddling with your clit, he’ll keep pretending for his “pretty girl”.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x fem!reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #resident evil #resident evil smut #resident evil 4

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chocsra · 9 months

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"I'm glad you understand me, though."

15! Dazai x fem! doctor! reader

a/n: sorry I haven't been posting! school starts on tuesday and i am not prepared to deal w these shitheads 🤧 (update, its friday and they are no new fine boys 😔😔)

to all my dazai fans 🫶🫶 also im working on a 15! chuuya x reader oneshot atm too!

also @sosograndii who wanted a dazai fic 😭 also lmk if any of you want a platonic! fem! reader x pm! dazai where its like "when I say I like all women you might actually be the exception" bc that would be hella funny

content: being teenagers, oneshot, swearing, mentions of suicide, injuries, dazai being dazai, reader is lowkey suicidal too, Mori is kinda creepy beware 😨

"Mori?"

"Yes, Dazai?"

The brunette adjusted his white cast, scribbling doodles on the supposed paperwork he was supposed to do. He currently sat across from the Port Mafia boss, Mori Ougai, who was folding Elise's clothes attentively in his leather seat. Dazai shifted and set down the chipped pencil he usually chewed on, facing him properly.

"Do you think there is anyone else in the mafia who rivals my skills?" The Demon Prodigy asks, it may seem like an arrogant or overconfident question, but the boy has been used to being a genius at such a young age; it was rather a question out of genuine curiousity.

"Besides me?" Mori 'charms' with a smile, not so charmingly earning a scowl from Dazai in return. "Yes, besides you." He grumbles begrudgingly, slumping in his seat thinking what to draw next. "No, not at all." The mafia boss states with full confidence, "You are my pupil, afterall." Dazai groans again, dropping the pencil yet again before yawning. "Not every intelligent person is of your work, Mori." He retorts with a bored face, causing the grown man to exhale loudly. "Fine. I suppose there is one person who may be up to your level."

Dazai's ears perked up, turning to Mori interested. "Who?" The man in the white lab coat adjusted his purple tie, fluttering his eyes shut mindlessly. "A girl your age, she wants to be a doctor just like her Boss." He smiles genuinely, causing Dazai to sigh in irritation.

"Yuck."

Yuck.

Is what you thought as you stare at the lanky boy who rested on your procedure chair. He was battered and bruised, previous bandages and a large cast wrapped around his left arm stained with sweat and blood; you put on a pair of gloves before grabbing a few tools to clean him up. He was a boy about your age, or so you thought, he was tall and lanky, a black suit with an oversized black overcoat messily draped upon his shoulders. He had messy brown hair thst framed his face, one eye wrapped around bandages along his face; shame, his eyes were a pretty sight.

"Where is your boss?" The brunette asks, watching you attentively as you grab his hand and begin to wipe his beaten knuckles, pushing the bandages wrapped around his hands up. "Out. I'm supposed to take over Mori's job while he's gone." You inform, scooting your chair closer in order to clean all the gashes on his hand. "Oh. So you're that girl?" You cock a brow, turning to look at him.

"That girl?"

"Mori's pupil."

You finish wiping one of his knuckles and dispose of the cloth, motioning the boy to remove his arm bandages before the cut bleeds again. "Oh. I guess." You quip, causing him to tilt his head in interest. "What's your name?" The brunette asks, complying and removing his stained arm bandage, placing it gently on the chair; you picked it up and disposed it yet again, grabbing disinfectant wipes as you wipe his knuckles once more. "[Y/N] [L/N], you?"

"Dazai Osamu, I'm fifteen." You nod politely, wrapping a new set of bandages around his hand. "Cool, me too." Dazai's eyes light up a bit at your responses, "I know." he nods, extending his other hand to repeat the same process.

"So," you pause, carefully applying the new bandages on his other hand, they were quite cold to the touch. "what happened to you?" Dazai sighs, tapping a nimble finger on the hospital chair. "I was trying to kill myself," Your eyes widen a bit at the honesty, giving a casual nod as if it were an everyday occurrence. "However, I didn't know that there were a few men who held grudges against me at the end of the river, so I had to take care of that." He answers, you gave a listening hum at his story.

"That's interesting." You reply, causing him to raise his brows a bit; looking at you as you get up and lift his messy bangs, urging him to take off his facial bandages. "Yep, I'm assuming you get a lot of cases like me?" You wipe his bleeding forehead, causing him to pinch a brown eye shut, "Not exactly; but I mean, I understand you."

Dazai tilted his head in confusion, crimson blood collecting on the abrasion on his forehead; he seemed rather amused yet surprised. "You do?" the boy asks, you nod your head in response, finishing cleaning the wound. "Elaborate, please." he requests, his brown eyes almost sparkled into yours. As if you two weren't terrifying mafia members, as if the world just for a second; stopped to understand a few dumb teenagers in weird situations.

"Who wants to live in this world anyway?" You ask rhetorically, chuckling a bit as you grab a few bandages and carefully guide them around the side of his face. The brunette for a second, was caught off guard; no one underestimated the Demon Prodigy, the greatest mistake for Dazai's enemies is that, they're Dazai's enemies, no? But, this time it was different, just one sentence and accomodating gesture, and he felt a knot tighten in his stomach. Weridly enough, Dazai hummed in satisfaction and fluttered his eyes shut.

"I see." He replies, you finished wrapping the bandage around his head and take off your gloves, feeling satisfied with the mutual agreement. "[Y/N], right?" the brunette asks casually, causing you to nod your head in agreement. "Yeah."

"Would you like to elope out of the mafia with m-"

Dazai Osamu, that fucking womanizer.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #spotify #15 light novel bsd #bsd x reader #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #dazai x y/n #dazai x you #15 dazai #15 dazai x reader #Spotify

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hidtired · 1 month

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Hangman [Part 2]

(Daryl Dixon x Reader) Masterlist

Description: Y/N Dixon was to be punished for her husbands actions at the line up. Negan decided to do it in style. Daryl watches you hang before being dragged away. But you had still been alive by the time you were cut down. What will Daryl go through before reuniting with you?

2.8k words

Warnings (Mentions of suicide, gore, ANGST, violence, injury, ect.)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Daryl POV

He saw you getting dragged to stand on that wooden box. Noose swinging back and forth in the air. He had threatened and then pleaded when the rope went around your neck. ‘He had done this, the reason for you standing there.’ You were looking at him. A sweet smile on your face. How could you possibly not be furious with him. He was getting dizzy from moving so much and the amount of blood he lost already. He watched the tears slip down your face but then your face straightened and you glared at Negan. How could you look so brave into death?

Negan was still yapping but the ringing in his ears muted most of his words. He registered, “Any last words?” You didn’t even hesitate stating, “See you in hell.” The look in your eye must have been murderous under the bag that been dragged over your head. Negans chuckle in amusement sent his skin ablaze, “Hope I don’t keep you waiting-“ the silence that followed had Daryl’s mind racing to replace the noise, ‘How do I stop this?’ ‘I can’t lose her!’ The abrupt kick from the box under your feet felt like a stab in the heart. He felt like he was watching it in slow motion. Your slow decent to the ground. To hear the rope pull tot again the tree branch above you.

He watch in shock no noise coming out of him. The bounce of the rope tightening around you suspending you in the air. It was Carl he heard the loudest make a pained grunt at witnessing it. Then you were clawing at the rope that suffocated you. Feet dangling and kicking. You had made a surprised yelp at the first impact. It burned into his mind as soon as he heard it. He took a sharp intake of breath for the first time and he mumbled incoherent please through his cry’s.

When your head fell back you then went slack. Your stillness punched all the air out of his lungs. Everyone’s cry’s and faces pulled into disbelief at your now motionless body. Daryl’s eyes remain glued to you. It felt like he was pulled into a sinkhole and had an empty feeling flowing through him. Negan’s proud voice cutting through the noise of grief, “That was like a damn witch hunt! Shit, didn’t think she would be flopping around so much!” He turned to the people shaking on their knees. “Damn, seems to have learned an important lesson finally! We got there in the end though. THEY GET THE SPIRIT AWARD FOR SURE!” Negan turned to Rick, “I JUST GOT A FEELIN’!” Negan yelled prancing around… putting on a show. “YOU PROVIDE FOR ME!” Rick slowly nodded, “SPEAK WHEN SPOKEN TO!” He gulped a flash of light making him squint before speaking, "W-we provide-" Negan nodded with a pleased smile getting what he wanted. He pointed to Daryl, "Load him up."

Daryl had dug his hands in the dirt still staring at your body, looking dazed. He felt them pull him and he only struggled a little, tears streaming down his face, noise unable to release from his tight throat. He couldn't leave you. They throw him back in the truck they had dragged him out of in the beginning. He struggled to get back up so he curled into himself. The door slammed making him jump. His mind getting dragged to flashback of you. The moment you saw each other after the prison. When you first admitted to being in love with him. Remembering when you took his last name as yours.

Till death do us part.

Now that it had happened he couldn’t comprehend it. To live without you. For your existence to simply cease. His grief rolled into anger. At the world, at the saviors, but mostly himself. You had always disliked when he got worked up, ‘It will be the death of you!’ But in the end it was the death of you. You had yelled it at him during an argument. He would have said something back to that if you hadn’t started to get worked up tears shinning in your eyes.

‘Your love for me got you killed.’

He quietly sobbed at the thought. The van he was in started to move. He was being taken to who knows where. Whatever it was he would burn it to the ground with everyone who had hurt you in it, including himself.

He passed out somewhere along the way. Only waking at the feeling of stitch’s digging into his shoulder. He was later stripped of his clothes and put in a dark room. He would sit in the corner huddled together playing with the remaining ring on his finger. That’s when the torture here began.

He was feed poorly. Sleep deprived with a song that play on loop at full volume. He felt weak, sometimes thinking he would hear your voice off into the darkness. He would perk up and cry apologizes to you. Blaming himself, soon your presence turned into a haunting after a rough day. He tried to run but was tricked and beaten. He was on the cool floor hearing your voice ring in his ears, “Your fault. If I never took pity on you I’d still be here! YOU KILLED ME!” He would often pull on his hair to quiet you.

A day later, he was dragged to Alexandria. His face was swollen and he had a remaining shake in his hand. He was in a constant state of fighter flight. When he had got to the gates he couldn’t meet anybody’s eye. They had succeeded in breaking him. But not the way they intended. They broke him to comply. To be one of them. But he continued refusal. They broke him by making his life meaningless. With a sole purpose of destroying the ones who took his love from this world.

He was helping move boxes from Alexandria homes. Rick standing next to Negan near by. Rick had spoke to Carl from the porch, “You should go check on Lori. Make sure that she is okay.” He said it loud enough for Daryl to overhear. Daryl was perplexed at the sentence, was he trying to insinuate something? Lori had been dead for a while now, had he lost it again? Carl chimed in, “I’m sure she is doing fine.” Were they talking about you? There’s no way in hell you would be ‘fine’ after the shit that happened. It was hopeful thinking, he probably didn’t even say Lori and he imagined it.

Rick pleaded for Daryl being able to stay but when asked to make his case he knew he wouldn’t let him go. He also didn’t feel he deserved it. He had looked to his brother, his face screaming he cared. It only made him more guilty. You had cared for him, that’s why you were dead.

That was only solidified more back in his cell. Dwight was on him to join them, that all the torture would be over. Even if he did, the torture would still continue in your absence. Daryl said somethings that struck a nerve, “And be like you? Lettin Negan bang your wife, wow you sure saved her.” Dwight threw the dog food sandwich to the floor, “At least she is still alive.” He threw a polaroid to the floor, slamming and locking the door behind him.

Daryl’s hands were balled up. The burning ache in his chest at the mention of you. He slowly moved for the picture flipping it over. The crack of light coming from under the door revealing the picture. It was you hanging in that tree. He immediately looked away, clutching a hand to his chest. The hard tension of emotion bubbling out. He silently wept while the music changed. How stupid could he have been? To think maybe Rick was suggesting you were OK.

Your POV

Daryl was right about that, you were everything but ok. Alive yes, but struggling. When you had gotten to hilltop you were rushed to the doctor. He had done a endotracheal Intubation, shoving a tube down your throat to assist you with breathing. Maggie held your hand while Glenn pinned you down. You relaxed when it was in place. Breathing fully and properly, your eyes rolled in the back of your head going unconscious. All adrenaline leaving your body, now unable to process the pain and shut itself down.

You woke startled. The intrusion down your throat causing a panic. You pulled it out but struggled to cough to clear your airway. You rolled over the side of the bed letting gravity do it. It was hard to work any muscle in your throat. You felt something rapped around it. Almost like a pillow. It was a neck brace but the feeling reminded you of having the rope around you. The pillow case under you reminding you of the bag. Someone grabbed you and propped you up to sit. It was the doctor. You froze from your panic seeing panicked eyes all watching you. Maggie sat leaning into Glenn’s shoulder with a hand clasped around her mouth.

It was like a slap of reality. Eye contact with everyone in the room. They explained things to you while still a little frazzled. You were asleep for 14-16 hours. Your bottom lip trembled and you waved everyone closer to you. You enveloped people in hugs. You had never been so close to death. You gesture for something to write on. After getting it you wrote, “Is everything Ok?” Sasha who now sat in a chair next to the bed spoke first, “You should get better, only concern was how you would eat.” The doctor chimed in, “The damage to your throat is unknown. I can’t say for sure if you could eat solid foods or even talk ever again.” You rub the tension between your eyes grabbing the paper and writing again.

“Daryl?”

Glenn put a hand to your leg, “He’s alive. You should know the saviors took him before they left.” You ran a hand through your hair eyes closed tight. The burning in your eyes from the need to cry only added to the pressure in your growing migraine. You bit your lip and tried to swallow down the tightness growing in your throat from tears. However, the sensation of gulping made your whole body tense, slamming your fists down at the pain. A shaken inhale coming out of you. Everyone cringed around you. You collected yourself before writing again. “How the baby?” You had pointed the paper to Glenn and Maggie. She smiled, “We’re ok.” You breath in relieved about the first good news.

Then came the recovery. Not just physically but mentally. Any rope, tie, or, string set you off. You now no longer slept with a pillowcase. You had to eat everything in a paste. You’d crush it and dilute it with water. Felt like dog food. You were persistent when it came to asking about updates on Daryl. ‘When were people going after him?’ ‘When are we fighting?’

Everyday with the same answer. To think of what they were doing to him as each day passed. You started to debate going after him yourself. No opportunities presenting itself until Sasha and Rosita went off to kill Negan and hadn’t come back. With everyone distracted by them you follow after them. You left a note that read,

“I’m sorry for not telling you I ran off, but I need to go get Daryl. Anyone would do the same in my situation. So, no being mad when I come back! Preferably with two Dixons.”

You while still unable to talk and less than great ability to even drink water, were going to save your husband. You followed old tracks from the girls. Knife in hand and an empty gun holster. Also a black hoodie that was a few sizes too big, (you stole from Jesus.) You were by far behind in your tracking ability compared to your Husband. You remember all the times you would go with him to hunt. Being out there alone often lead to other activities you will admit. Probably what took you so long to learn. You found a factor type building the near the end of the trail. You would wait until the sun goes down and seeing what you were working with.

You had rounded the building a few times preparing for when it became sunset. You also took notice at a lot of cars that had left. You decided to act while they were gone. There was a lot with cars and to your surprise Daryl’s motorcycle. It seemed empty and unguarded. There was already holes in the fence tied with zip ties. You avoided the walkers attached to the fence. Breaking the zip ties with your knife and sliding through. You quickly and quietly made your way through a side door.

The hallway had minimum lighting. Any door you would pass you slowly open to look inside. Footsteps on the other side of the hall caused you to go up a flight of stairs. Quick to make your way down the upstairs hall when you heard women chatting. Ducking into a room closest to you. Pressing your ear to the door listening for the people to pass. Taking notice of the room there was a big bed, and a jacket all too familiar. You were in Negan’s room. Stepping back outside you paused and looked at the door.

Deciding to carve a little message in his door before continuing your search for Daryl.

____ | | | o | /|\ | | | / \ |_

"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _."

You made your way back downstairs. Passing door after door until you saw one cracked open. It was another bedroom. You slowly opened it spotting the key to Daryl’s bike. You pocketed it then saw another thing you recognized, Rick’s python. You moved it to your holster while moving back to the door. You ducked your head out of it looking both ways before continuing. Your heart raced every second you were there.

There was 3 doors left at the end of the hall. When opening the first one it opened to reveal a small space that was empty. It was dirty with full brick walls and concrete floor. You moved to the next one but it didn’t budge, it was locked? You moved to the last door and it popped open like the first. You back tracked to the other door and made a small knock against it. Leaning your ear to the door you heard a deep sigh. Someone was locked in one of these small rooms. Inhaling and hoping it was Daryl. You looked around again to make sure no one was coming.

Jamming your knife in the key hole and pulling out a Bobby pin from the back of your head. You were used to lock picking doors open since all the scavenging you’ve done. It was a habit to always have it on you. You fiddled with the lock looking around from time to time. When you finally got it to turn and unlock you put the pin back and held your knife out for whatever was behind the door. The door slowly opened light illuminating the dark room with a beaten and dirty Daryl. Your heart dropping. He was sat down staring at the floor squinting from the light. You slowly feel to your knees.

He looked up seeing you. A mix of a panicked and heart breaking look flashing across his battered features. You put a finger to your lips telling him to be quiet. You crawl over to him and grab his face. He leaned into you making your heart feel strained, ‘what have they done to him.’ Daryl whispering apologies, “It’s all my fault… god I love you.” His hands hovering over your face. You leaned over to lay your head in his hand. He seemed surprised at the contact. He leans forward looking at your face searching your eyes. His hand traveling down gently to your neck his eyes catching a sight glimpse of the bruise around it before you flinched at the contact to it. He breath comes out ragged,

“Y/N?”

You nuzzle your face in his and leaning down to give him a quick kiss on the lips. He was looking at you with amazement. You grabbed him by the arms and tried to get him to stand, trying to hint that you both needed to leave.

You were going to get him out of here.

Part 3

Next part is final! Feedback welcome and requests always open! What do you think the Hangman game spelt?

This feels like I wrote it poorly so apologies.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl imagines #daryl x female reader #daryl x reader #norman reedus #twd daryl #angst #fluff

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fangsandfracturedhearts · 19 days

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Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Chapter 16: Riddles

Summary: After embracing eternity as a vampire spawn under Astarion's wing, the Crimson Palace becomes a haunting symbol of the man he once was. As his personality unravels into a dark abyss, you flee. A year of hardship unveils the harsh reality of existence as a vampire spawn.

Just as all hope seems lost, a twist of fate reunites you with Astarion, revealing a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows. As you navigate the complexities of your relationship, you must confront the unsettling truth behind the Rite of Profane Ascension and the devilish secrets it holds.

In a race against time, you embark on a daring quest to save Astarion from his descent into darkness. With each choice you make, the stakes grow higher, testing the limits of your courage and determination.

Will Astarion find redemption, or is he destined to succumb to his own inner turmoil?

Word Count: 6.8k

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x female!Tav Spawn

Warnings: [Will try to continue to add more, but in general expect explicit content for mature audiences]

Possible spoilers. Eventual Explicit Content. Slow Burn. Thoughts of Suicide. Violence. Blood. Injury. Mature Content. Self-Harm. Mentions of in-game content. Completely fabricated camp events. Mentions of Astarion's Trauma.

If you notice a very critical tag missing, please don't hesitate to let me know

Rating: Explicit 18+ - [Meant For Mature Audience]

The manor is mute except for the scratch of paper as you flip the page of Astarion’s sketchbook and contemplate the detailed drawing of yourself. You frown as you try to brush the name over the woman, painting her with the letters and hues of every syllable. It doesn’t matter what portrait you look at; the name still feels foreign and unrecognizable.

Whoever the woman in these drawings is, she is lost to you. She took her name to the grave, and some things cannot be exhumed. You close the book, your eyes sailing up the wall toward the ceiling.

Should you miss her? Grieve her? Forget her?

Climbing onto the bed, you hold your palm out, summoning the flames from the candles. You close your fist to extinguish them and let the black wings of darkness envelop the room. You have a strange feeling that you’re not entirely that woman any longer, which you can’t put into words. You were disassembled somewhere between life, death, and this everlasting afterlife, and your pieces weren’t arranged in quite the same pattern.

You have lost and gained so much in so little time. Would you recognize yourself even if you had a reflection?

There’s an ache in the vacant chamber where your dead heart hangs, frozen in the static state of death. The pang of discomfort doesn’t belong to you, though. Astarion has been leaving the link open more and more, and you’re learning what he meant when he said the world around him seems to move in slow motion.

You once made the mistake of thinking Astarion could no longer feel, but you couldn’t have been more wrong. The reality is that he feels everything with an intensity you cannot begin to fathom. His emotions are like shooting stars. They streak through him, blazing bright and winking out in the blink of an eye.

His beating heart gives away Astarion's return. He doesn’t bother lighting a candle when he enters the room, hanging his formal suit coat.

You light a candle with a twitch of your finger. “You must forgive yourself, Astarion.”

Astarion sighs, rubbing his face. “What gave me away this time?”

“The same thing.” You splay your hand across your chest. This is not the first time you’ve mentioned the ache, as if your heart is in a perpetual state of being torn. “When you hurt, I hurt.”

You feel his intention to cut the coupling, to give you a break from the pain, and you fight against it.

“Don’t,” you rebuke, narrowing your eyes at the increasing pressure in your head. “Please. Stop trying to shut me out.”

Astarion’s eyes fall to the sketchbook you left on the bedside table. “Do you not recognize your name still?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head and fidgeting with your fingers. This is the whole reason for the pain he’s been wallowing in—a bog of guilt and shame. He’s more upset over it than you are. You smile, making your voice a gentle hug. “Give me some time, and I will get used to it.”

“You should not have to get used to your own fucking name,” he hisses, squeezing his eyes closed, and the pain in your chest increases. It feels like your heart is warping itself into knots. “Not even Cazador went as far as to remove my name from my memory.”

“You are not Cazador,” you snap back sternly. “Stop comparing yourself to him. The situation is entirely different.”

“No,” Astarion growls, raising his voice, overtaken by repulsion. “I’m something much worse. At least there were limits to his power. No restrictions hinder me.”

“Good Gods! Just stop!” You yell, jumping off the bed. You’re unsure if your anger is partly due to what Astarion is feeling or your irritation at his self-loathing. At least he cannot remember taking you to the kennels. You don’t think he will ever recover. “You’re not him, and you’re not the darkness inside. You must separate the two.”

Astarion scoffs, turning away and waving dismissively, “I think it best if you rest in your room tonight.”

You deflate, anger being replaced by his disregard and the sharp sting of rejection. Astarion has been making you sleep in your room for days. At first, you thought he needed space, but he’s only become increasingly distant and withdrawn.

“Why are you doing this?” You step toward him, but he tenses and shies away, making you halt. You try to decipher his retreat through the bond, but Astarion is carefully guarding his emotions.

“Doing what?” He asks casually, keeping his blank stare on the wall.

“You show me an open door, then slam it on me and pull the rug out from under my feet!” You look up, hating that tears have begun crawling down your cheeks. “You think keeping your distance from me is keeping me safe, but you’re tearing me apart. Do you even want me here anymore, Astarion? Should I go?”

“Don’t go,” he whispers, brittle and weak. If your hearing were not so sharp, thanks to your vampirism, you wouldn’t have heard him. There’s another stab in your chest that feels like it rips the muscles right off your bones, and you whimper, clutching at your skin. “Please.”

“I can’t take this anymore,” you plead, taking another step, only to watch him tense. Your arms drop to your sides. Your heartbreak is affecting him. You can see it in the way his jaw clenches, and he winces almost imperceptibly at every sob you stifle. “Why are you pushing me away?”

Astarion finally turns, wracking his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know if I can be what you need me to be—what you deserve.”

“I know you don’t love me,” you sigh, shrugging. It always comes back to this. “You need to listen to me; let my words sink into your skin and fade into your soul. I missed you with such intensity that it felt like I died every day we were apart. You are my forever, even if I am not yours, and that’s okay.” You shake your head dismially, unsure how to get through to him. “I love you. Goodnight.”

You’re near your room when Astarion appears in front of you out of thin air, and you bump into him. He vaults you off your feet and into his arms before you can register his movement, making you yelp at the surprise of having your feet swept out.

“Shit,” He holds you firmly against him, his lips pressed to your forehead in a lingering kiss. “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to leave. Stay with me, little love. I need you.”

“Stop pushing me away.” You tangle your fingers into his hair, with your face nestled into the crook of his neck.

“I will.” His hand comes to the back of your head as he walks back to his room and places you gently on the bed with adoration in his eyes. “You are my forever, Illyria. Aeterna Amantes.”

“Lovers forever,” you finish, sidling up close to him and laying your head on his chest.

The teeth of guilt gnawing inside your chest cavity have finally relinquished your heart as their chew toy, and all that remains is the steady thrum of Astarion’s borrowed heartbeat.

“Until the world falls down, my love,” he purrs, placing a finger under your chin and his lips embracing yours.

The slow rocking rise and fall of his chest is like the sway of gentle waves; the beat of his heart is a lullaby whispering serenity into your soul, and you slip peacefully into your trance.

Upon waking, your hand meanders across the silken surf of the sheets, only to find Astarion’s side of the bed cold and void. Rolling onto your back, your eyes drag open, and you listen for the telltale susurrus of a heartbeat. A frown creases your forehead when you’re met with nothing but the anonymous creaks and groans of the manor.

Astarion doesn’t usually leave without mentioning his absence as a warning to stay indoors and away from the windows. A florid scent catches your attention, prompting you to turn your head.

On Astarion’s pillow, a red rose rests and a folded note with your name penned in his delicate, flowing hand.

“Good morning, beautiful.

I apologize for my absence, but I am not far. I’ve left blood for you in the kitchen.

Eternally yours,

Astarion.”

The promise of awaiting blood stirs you to your feet hastily. Your belly coils with anticipation, and you barely have enough restraint to dress and run a comb through your hair before you’re bounding down the stairs.

A golden goblet, elaborately etched with prismatic dragon scales that mirror yours, sits on the counter. You snatch it greedily and bring it to your lips. The blood is cool, so you allow your palms to heat slowly, warming it as it inspires your taste buds to recite their devotion to the ambrosial elixir. It’s unmistakably Astarion’s blood. It knocks you over in a wave of delirium that makes your knees weak, and you lean into the counter to keep yourself from melting into the floor.

You’re not sure if it’s your imagination or reality, but you veritably hear Astarion chuckling in your head.

The meal is finished too soon, and you groan as you clean the last traces from your lips. When you open your dreamily heavy eyes, another folded note, previously hidden by the flared base of the goblet, catches your attention. You blink rapidly to clear the insensibility glazed across your sight before you can make any sense of the words before you.

“Find me using the clues I have scattered for you, my clever Illyria.

We have much to discuss.

“Reminisce beneath the faded tapestries, where laughter once echoed; seek the embers of our stolen kiss."

Clues? What in the Hells is Astarion up to, and what the fuck do you have to discuss? An icy shock runs from your dead heart into your feet. Is it possible he found out about Mizora and knows you’ve been keeping something from him? Would he play a game of cat and mouse with you?

You would not put it past him.

He’s left the link between you open, and you cannot feel any malice vibrating in the orchestra of emotions. If he’s figured out your secret, he’s hidden it well.

You stare at the hint with a furrowed brow. Embers of your stolen kiss? Faded tapestries? The pad of your finger rubs over the fringe of scales scored into the goblet’s surface while you think, and then you realize the damn chalice itself is another tip.

This does not belong to Astarion, or it didn’t before you and he stole it after breaking into a shop one night during your adventure. Astarion caught you eyeing it while you were buying supplies. You deemed it an impractical purchase. There was a far more dire need for healing potions and other necessities than to waste coin on frivolous trinkets.

He woke you up that night, dressed entirely in black, and dragged you back to the shop for a thrilling night of thievery and resulting debauchery. Where did you two go after to celebrate?

The Blushing Mermaid.

You dress quickly in a red dress with lace sleeves and a glimmering, golden dragon that snakes up your side. The skirt hugs your hips, flares slightly, and flutters around your knees. The golden bands of the matching hairpiece and circlet wreathe your forehead and long hair.

Throwing on your sandals, you stop dead at the door. The sun still shines outside, as evidenced by the tawny luminance glowing between the cracks in the drapery.

Astarion’s voice frisks across the bond: “You needn’t fear, love. You are safe.”

“What are you up to, Ascendant?” You query back, opening the door slowly and sticking your hand in the small ray to validate his claims.

He giggles, “Solve the riddles, and all will be revealed in time.”

The sky sings of sunset in hues of fire hearths gilded with golden inlays. Despite Astarion’s assurance, your skin still flinches over your muscles as if trying to pull itself away from your figure. Your eyes keep steadily on the majesty of the horizon as you trot through the streets to the Blushing Mermaid.

With the recent meal sloshing around in your stomach, your bloodlust is easier to manage. Still, when citizens brush by with their dainty necks on display, you’re tempted to give them a nibble.

The tavern is as busy as it typically is for late afternoon, but most patrons take no notice of you, engrossed in their revelry.

“Ah, the leaking blood bag.” Captain Grisly’s voice drifts from her quarters. “Nice to see you again. I hardly recognized you without your quarterstaff and haggard, blood-soaked robe.”

When you turn and her eyes catch the cracked crimson of yours, she gasps but holds her tongue with a clenched jaw.

You smile reassuringly and taunt, “Don’t worry. I won’t bite unless you ask very nicely.” There is something about people being afraid of you that’s thrilling. You cannot explain why. Perhaps you’re learning to accept this new you instead of feeling ashamed. It’s freeing. “Was my pale companion here earlier?”

The woman eyes you skeptically and nods, “Yes, Lord Ancunin was in earlier, but he warned me not to assist you.”

“Of course he did.” You roll your eyes as Astarion chuckles in your head. “It was nice to see you.”

“Please try not to make a meal out of my patrons,” Captain Grisly smirks. “The cleaning bills are already enough of a menace.”

You chuckle while your eyes dart around, trying to remember what you and Astarion got up to that night. The memory is garbled under the lagoon of ale you must have drunk.

You drank a lot. You danced. Oh Gods. You danced on the stage.

Your eyes swing to the faded tapestries hanging above a small alcove. Astarion had dragged you off the stage when your provocative swaying earned the attention of too many ogling eyes for his comfort.

“You are a godsdamned delinquent, Illyria,” he’d purred in your ear while he ironed his body to you possessively, shielding you from the onlookers with a forearm pressed above your head. “I have half a mind to take you right here, enchantress, to show these fools you belong to me.”

A small table sits in the alcove with a single candle lit. A white rose rests on it, with a dainty silver chain wrapped around the verdant stem. Unwrapping it, you hold a locket in your hand. The edges are adorned with two exquisitely detailed dragons, one light silver and one dark, forming a heart. In the middle, a black diamond is held by the silver dragon, and a normal diamond is held by the dark one, creating a magnificent contrast.

Opening the clasp, your eyes anchor to a sketch you haven’t seen before. It’s not of the mortal woman you don’t remember. It’s of you, as you must appear now. Your eyes are the only thing in vivid colour, and your fangs peek out of your smiling lips. Even though the picture is small, it holds an impossible amount of detail.

The smooth metal of the back is engraved with Astarion’s nickname for you, Amarillis. It’s Elven, your mother tongue, for Flame-Flower.

Putting the locket on, you find another note nestled between the petals of the rose.

“Where the forgotten lay to rest under the celestial canopy, find the crimson-kissed stone where a single star shines alone.”

If you know Astarion, he’s left another hint somewhere in plain sight, like the goblet. You scan your surroundings for anything that looks out of place, and you find an image hanging on the wall behind the stage that you don’t recall being there.

You recognize the statue, Balduran Looks Out to Sea, located in the Tumbledown district of the outer city. It’s not an area you’ve spent much time in. Astarion and you went to sit on the cliff and watch the sunrise the day before you went to kill or be killed by Cazador.

Now, you just need to get there without eating anyone.

Twilight is a tangible whisper, bruising the stretch of sky in purple and navy when you return to the streets. Alleys and paths are easiest for you to traverse, and sometimes you Misty Step and skate over the roofs when you feel bloodlust evaporating from your control.

At least Tumbledown is far less busy than the Lower City, thanks to the misty veil that never seems to disentangle from the town. The soft percussion of waves from the River Chionthar pulsing upon the cliffside is rhythmic as you walk up the quiet path leading to the statue.

You reread the note, “Where the forgotten lay.”

Cliffside Cemetery.

The large graveyard spreads before you, composed of a bafflingly complex network of headstones, tombs, and old mausoleums. You keep your eye out for anything red, which will appear brazenly against the drab background of the assorted greys and greens of the mossy tombstones.

The moonlight casts eerie shadows that stretch and disfigure the terrain. The stars ignite the velvet wreath of night as you finally come upon a headstone with a red rose draped over it.

The weather over the centuries has worn, stained, and cracked the stone. Crouching, you carefully wipe off the grime that dulls the worn epitaph.

“Astarion Ancunin,” it reads.

Rest Peacefully Beneath a Canopy of Stars.

Your fingers trace the jagged lines unconsciously as tears brim in your eyes, sinking to your knees.

“I have not returned since I punched a hole in my coffin and dug through six feet of dirt nearly 200 years ago.” Astarion’s voice floats from behind you.

Leaping to your feet, you whirl with more agility than you’ve ever possessed and thrust yourself into his arms. Astarion is dressed in clothing reminiscent of his camp clothes, leaving the typical opulence of the Vampire Ascendant behind.

“You are not forgotten, Astarion,” you whisper against his chest.

Astarion’s arms wrap around you. His timbre is angelic and deep, vibrating through your skin and massaging your spirit. “I was. For 200 years, I was a ghost stalking the streets while whoever I was, whoever I could have been, lay dead and buried."

Taking your hand, he walks toward his grave, letting his fingers coast over the roughened stone. “Cazador was waiting for me when I surfaced, hacking up dirt and congealed blood. I was his from that day forward. Even this grave is located on lands once owned by the Szarr family. Yet another nod to his ownership of me, I suppose.”

His finger taps the headstone, but he’s smiling when he turns to look at you—a real, genuine smile that fills your heart with warmth. “Then you fell like an angel from the heavens, quite literally, and waged war on everything I thought I knew about the world. You gave me something I had been without for centuries—hope.”

“I’m no angel,” you whisper.

“You’re my angel, Illyria,” he asserts. With Astarion’s attire and the way he’s speaking, which is so entirely familiar, there’s a shot of recognition that stirs your psyche. For the first time since you relearned it, your name is not an abstract word in your head. Astarion must feel it because he smiles broadly and continues, “No one cared, no one gave me a second look, and no Gods answered my prayers. No one is like you; you’re you. You stood with me through bloodlust, pain, and misery. You trusted me. You were patient. You cared. You were the only one who never gave up on me. You still haven’t given up on me, even though it’s an objectively stupid thing to do.”

“You were being very sweet until you called me stupid.” You giggle as he wipes the tears from your cheeks.

“Sweet and savoury, my dear,” he chuckles. “I’ve been free for over a year. Yet, I am just beginning to figure out who I am and what I truly want out of this newfound life.”

“What do you want, Astarion?” You lean into him. “The world is yours for the taking.”

“Not what,” he says, shaking his head, sliding an arm around your waist, and his fingers grazing over the locket on your neck. He smiles, “But you will have to finish this little quest to find the answers you seek.” He hands you another note and winks, “I’ll see you soon.”

Astarion gives you a small, playful shove and strides away with a smirk. He bows and shifts into an unnaturally large, white bat with crimson eyes you would recognize in a sea of them, soaring around you while you laugh.

“You’re adorable, but are you soft?” You ask.

He answers in your head with a lilting laugh, “Shall we find out?”

He lands, folding his wings and resting on his headstone, and cocks his head. Your fingers tremble, unfoundedly afraid you might hurt him, as they stroke down the alabaster fur.

“Soft and cute.”

“I aim to please,” he snickers, taking off to kiss the stars. “You are wasting time, my treasure.”

You giggle at his jeering and watch him streak through the sky, so beautifully free, before reading the note.

"Seek the shore’s embrace, where stars align, and ascend the steps, bathed in candlelight’s shine. There, seek the terrace above the riverside; a question to decide.”

Shore’s embrace. Now, this you know well. When Astarion turned you he insisted on renting a villa with this name near the river in the Lower City.

The trek back to the Lower City somehow feels lengthier as nervousness hits you, ticking away in your chest, every beat of Astarion’s heart amplifying your anxiety as if the seconds were grains of sand slipping away, impossible to grasp.

You can’t entirely tell if it’s yours or his. With the bond open and uninhibited, you are entangled, a tapestry of threads entwined so seamlessly that it’s difficult to distinguish where one of you begins and the other ends.

If Astarion has figured out you’re hiding something, he’s given you no indication, but some part of you still wonders if you’re walking into a trap. It’s hard to control your thoughts so they do not transfer to him, which he’s been trying to teach you so that you can keep the bond open, but your private thoughts can remain your own.

It makes you wonder what thoughts he keeps from you.

You smell the aromatic perfume of roses before you round the corner. The villa hangs onto the wall and overlooks the River Chionthar. The silver waves sway and reflect the impending dawn’s early light, cradling the morning’s first blush. Candles light the steps covered in white and red rose petals. It almost feels wrong to step on something so wonderful.

The beat in your chest thrums with anticipation, like your extinct heartbeat has woken and risen from the grave as you ascend the staircase to the grand entrance. Your breath catches in your throat as you enter the foyer. The sparkling crystal chandelier is lit, casting scintillating rainbows across the room. Rosemary incense burns, filling the air with an aroma that reminds you of home—of Astarion.

You follow the scattered rose petals leading to the terrace as the golden crown of the sun crests the horizon. Fear typically follows such a sight, but you’re revelling in grandeur.

The heartbeat behind you is the only thing that alerts you to Astarion’s presence. The man seemingly appears out of thin air, but if you had that ability, you would take advantage of it too, you suppose.

“This is beautiful,” you say, and your words are abruptly cut off.

As your eyes fall on Astarion in his resplendent tailored suit, he descends to one knee. His crimson eyes meet yours, sparkling with a celestial constellation mirroring the infinity of his love. The newborn sun lights up the adoration in his features.

“Illyria, my love,” he begins in a soft whisper before your brain can catch up to what is happening. “You are the fire that lights up my darkness, a melody that soothes my troubled soul. After being with you, there is no doubt that I have touched the heavens.” He hesitates momentarily, and the bond surges with warmth, longing, devotion, and good Gods, love, “I love you, and I fall more in love with you every day. I do not know what tomorrow brings, but right now, with you, the world feels right.”

His hand reaches into his pocket and produces a small, velvet box. Lifting the lid, the quick breaths you didn’t realize you'd been taking catch in your throat as your eyes fall on an exquisite ring, nestled on a bed of crimson silk, intricately crafted with a dragon claw, clutching a heart-shaped diamond to match the locket.

Astarion’s warm caramel baritone holds the sweet promise of eternity: “Will you marry me?”

Your hand shoots to your mouth to stifle the sound that erupts from your throat, somewhere between a whimper and a squeak. Your knees fold, unable to hold your weight any longer, and you drop, folding your arms around his neck and draping yourself over him.

His hand comes to your back, and he kisses your cheek. “Is this happy crying, or have I made a grave miscalculation?”

“Happy crying,” you stutter through shaky breaths.

He chuckles, nuzzling you. “Is this a yes?”

“Yes!” You pull back, nodding in case he cannot understand you through your weeping. “But I need one thing from you."

"Ask, and I shall make it yours,” he purrs.

You cradle his cheek, sweeping your thumb across it. “Say it again.”

He smirks, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “I love you.”

“One more time,” you choke out.

“Gods above,” he giggles. “Is this all you will have me say now?”

You smile, the tips of your fangs peeking from your lips. “It sounds very good in your mouth.”

“You know I do not repeat myself for anyone,” he taunts. “Anyone but you, my love.” Astarion takes your hand, slipping the ring onto your finger, looking deeply into your eyes. “I love you, Illyria, my wife, my everything.”

“I love you, too, Astarion, my husband, my shining star.”

He beams, “I do rather like that, you know,” he muses. “When you call me husband.”

His arm wraps around your waist, easing you to your feet. You clutch onto him to keep yourself upright as your knees wobble like a newborn fawn and try to watch the sunrise with your head on his chest, but your eyes keep drifting to the ring adorning your finger, reminding yourself that this did, in fact, just happen.

“Do you like it?” He murmurs, catching your eyes moored to it.

“I love it,” you whisper. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I should hope not,” he chuckles. “I designed it. No one will ever have anything similar.”

“How do you know?”

“Oh, you know me,” he shrugs. “I killed the jeweller to make sure he could never replicate it.”

Your head snaps up, wide-eyed, to look at him. He glances at you and bursts into laughter. “A jest, sweetheart.”

“I hope you at least compelled him to forget it,” you snicker. “Or I may have to drain anyone I see with anything similar.”

“Oh,” he giggles. “I do so adore it when you’re murderous. Speaking of draining someone, I’ve had you running around the city all night. You must be positively famished.”

“You fed me,” you say, arching a brow at him. “Lucky for the citizens of the Lower City. Some of them smell very tasty.”

Astarion’s hands find the back of your thighs, and you wrap your arms around his neck as he lifts you. “Not as tasty as me, I hope.”

“No one could ever be as tasty as you,” you purr. “Your blood is nearly as charming as you are.”

He chuckles, taking you into the villa and setting you on the lofty mattress. “Well, who am I to deny your hunger? I would not be a very good husband if I did not keep my lovely wife satisfied. Would I?”

“What are you saying exactly?” You sweep your fingers through his hair as he undoes the elaborate clasps of his suit jacket. He discards it and loosens the collar of his shirt. You quirk your head at him. “Speak plainly.”

“I want you to bite me,” he purrs, pushing your legs to part for him with his knee and leaning over you. His lips mould to yours in a reverential kiss as his hands wander your body and ignite your desire.

“Bite you?” You breathe. “You said I couldn’t.”

“No.” Astarion removes his shirt, and your palms skim over his chest. “I said you can’t unless I permit you. You are as close to a True Vampire as you can get, my consort. It will not change you.”

“I don’t want to change,” you murmur, your fingers pressing firmly into his sculpted muscles. The offer of blood is tempting your hunger. “You’re giving me permission?”

He smirks, “Go on then. I’ll allow it.”

“Where?” Astarion cranes his neck to the side in an invitation. It takes everything you have not to leap for that magnificently pulsing vein. “Your neck?”

“Is there something wrong with my neck, my dear?”

“No. Of course not,” you giggle. “You have a very lovely neck. This is just new, that’s all. I didn’t think you would want to be, uh, well, bitten.”

“Your bite, my sweet,” he purrs, pressing his chest against yours and pinning you between him and the mattress. “Is divine. Only you will ever get the great honour of biting the Vampire Ascendant.”

“I godsdamned better be!” You huff, “I don’t share, Astarion. Not your body, not your blood, and definitely not your heart. You are mine and only mine. ”

He giggles, “Possessive little thing. Aren’t you? Not to worry, my love. I do not intend to share. I am yours. Wholly, and completely yours.”

You trace your lips down the shell of his ear. Your heart frolics at the ardent shudder that courses through his body and how the breath hitches in his throat. Kissing his neck until you feel the vein pulsing against your lips, you wait until he whispers his shaky, anticipatory approval.

The razor-sharp points of your fangs kiss his skin, and you wait for your body to seize up, but it doesn’t. You bite quick and sure, trying your best to be gentle. You feel the pop of your fangs puncturing his skin. His blood erupts into your mouth, caressing your tongue with heavenly heat that cascades through the channels of your veins and nestles between your thighs. You drink from him slowly but deeply, and your body trembles.

Astarion groans, deep and rich, his hot breath fanning the cool skin of your neck, and you feel the icy pinch of his fangs sink into you. You wash through him, and he passes through you in a paradisiacal torrent. The pleasure that harmonizes over the bond is transcendent. You swear you could come undone for this alone, and you ease your fangs from his neck and moan.

He kisses you with a bruising intensity. His tongue parts your lips so you can taste the essence of each other, and he bucks his hips into your aching sex, sending you spiralling into that frisson of pure delirium.

The clothes on your body feel much too restricting, and you whimper. The barrier of fabric between you feels unbearable. Astarion’s fingers go to his trousers, but his usual adroitness is nowhere to be seen as his fingers fumble with the laces.

He stares at his fingers dumbfounded for a moment and then looks at you with an arched brow and giggles gleefully, “Do you by any chance feel absurdly intoxicated?”

You writhe on the bed, unable to contain your ardent lust, as your brain awkwardly processes his question.

“Entirely,” you laugh. Gods. You thought you were high on him last time, but you are almost senseless in your need. You’re not even sure if you’re walking on the planes of reality or in some delightful hallucination, and you cannot find it within you to care. “Is this not normal?”

Astarion throws his trousers to the side, rucks up your dress clumsily, and tosses it away. “I’m not entirely sure. I may have read something about it, but I cannot quite remember where or when.” He shrugs. “We will have to experiment.”

Precum glistens, dripping from the head of his swollen cock. You are overcome with the absolute need for his salty, heady taste on your tongue. You lunge at him, bowling him over. Your movements are somehow swift and equally ungainly.

You lick up his shaft with a long, broad tongue stroke, feeling the ridges of his distended veins, before you engulf him in the wet heat of your mouth. Swirling your tongue around the blunt head of his cock. He sucks in sharp, shuddering breaths, fingers in your hair as you worship him, hollowing out your cheeks and sucking, taking him deeper and deeper until his cock tickles the back of your throat.

“Illyria,” he moans breathlessly. “Hells. You’ve got to stop before I lose my composure.”

But you’re not entirely sure you could stop, even if you wanted to. No. You want to feel his cock twitching on your tongue and his seed shooting into your throat. You want to drink his essence like a fine wine.

“Illyria,” he warns, trembling fingers curling into your hair. You feel the telltale pulse, hear the way his breath becomes ragged and uneven, and you take him over the edge in a few bobs of your head. He cries out, your name a sweet litany in his voice.

His seed bursts into your mouth, and you moan at the salt of him, swallowing every drop he gives you like a thirsty traveller. He is candied like heaven, wicked like hell, and, oh, so fucking delicious.

He pulls your head back by your hair and stares at you like he has found an oasis in an arid desert. You lick your swollen, red lips, determined to get every last drop of him that you can.

“Bad girl,” he purrs, shoving you flat on your back and pressing his lips to yours. He explores your mouth. “I taste exultant on your tongue.”

His fingers run through the seam of your dripping folds, coating them in the sleek of your arousal and easing into your fluttering channel. Astarion presses the pads firmly into that sweet spot inside that blinds you with pleasure, the heel of his palm caressing your clit with mind-numbing friction.

It does not take him long to settle into a rhythm that throws you somersaulting over the cusp of your own release with a lewd, wild cry, and he does not stop until he’s lured every possible shockwave from your body.

Astarion grabs your waist, tugging you down the bed as he settles between your thighs, sliding his length through your folds, his head teasing your overstimulated pearl. He guides himself into you, working your sex open inch by inch as you stretch to accommodate his girth.

Where everything before this was wild, almost savage, and borderline uncivilized, this is slow, passionate, and unhurried. He rocks his hips in languid pumps, coming to his forearm with his forehead pressed against yours. He is not fucking you. He is making love to you.

“You are mine,” he rasps through shaky gasps. It is not a proclamation of his ownership of you. It is not a command. It’s more of a plea for reassurance. “Yes?”

“Yours,” you confirm breathlessly, your eyes squeezed closed in pure rapture as he massages every one of your ridges poetically. Your fingers slide into the hair at the nape of his neck, and you cling to him as if you might float away on this cloud. “I’ve always been yours.”

“Gods. I love you,” he shudders between uneven breaths.

You will never tire of hearing those words, tasting them as they hinge off his tongue, and feeling them as they dally over the bond.

You clench around him, expelling a sighing groan from his mouth that you catch on your lips, determined to taste his ecstasy. His arm folds around your waist, forcing you to arch into him with his other hand at the back of your head. Astarion changes the angle of his thrusts but keeps the easy tempo. The blunt head of his cock waves over the sensitive pad of nerves inside you with every roll of his hips, and his groin grinds against your needy clit.

Astarion purposefully brings you close to your climax and then eases you away from it until you’re a whimpering mess beneath him.

“Astarion,” you pant, unable to take this withholding any longer. From his taut muscles and the way Astarion shakes, you know he cannot either. “Gods.”

“Open your eyes and come with me, my love.” Astarion increases the sensual pace rhythmically. The building pleasure pools in your abdomen, coiling tighter and tighter with every snap of his hips.

You open your eyes, blinking away the daze of passion, and cradle his cheek as he gazes at you affectionately. You’ve never seen his eyes so vividly crimson, as if his love for you itself was shining through the scarlet depths.

He knows the moment you begin to tread the fine edge of euphoria, gripping his girth and begging him to flood you with his pleasure. You shatter, spasms and white-hot pleasure ripping through you so intensely that the candles in the room go out and reignite with every contraction of your walls.

“F-fuck,” he moans loudly, a roll of purring thunder echoing in his chest. With one last pump, Astarion tremors, cock pulsing, and spilling into you. His hips stutter, pulsing deeply within you with every twitch of his cock.

He pushes the sweaty strands of hair from your face as you both struggle to catch your breath. You may never get used to his new speedy movements because, before you even realize you’re moving, he’s rolled you so that your limp body blankets his.

His fingers caress up and down the valley of your spine as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck, heaving a sigh of pure happiness while you are once again captivated by the ring wreathing your finger.

Astarion kisses your palm, placing it on his chest, and plays with the ring on your finger. “Will you tell your friends?”

“Our friends,” you correct, even though many don’t fancy him. “Of course. I am not ashamed.”

Astarion nods with a lopsided grin. “Even Gale?”

“Especially Gale,” you giggle.

“I simply must be there when you do,” he snickers. “The look on his face is sure to be exquisite.”

“I am positive he will have choice words for me,” you laugh.

Astarion bristles, “He best watch his words when I am near. I will not tolerate him speaking down to you.”

“Easy, Ascendant,” you tut, clicking your tongue at him. “I am capable of dealing with Gale and his words. I am not a maiden in need of saving.”

Astarion relaxes, chuckling, “A maiden you most certainly are not. I am going to have to field noise complaints.”

You pat his chest, smirking, “All in a day’s work, husband. Our neighbours are going to hate us.”

“We will simply purchase all the houses in the neighbourhood if they become too bothersome,” Astarion chimes, jostling you. “Think of all the places I could make you scream for me.”

You both break into laughter together, still immersed in the intoxication of each other’s blood.

But your bliss doesn’t last long as reality grips its claws into your rapture and bleeds it dry.

You cannot possibly continue to keep what you know for him. How can you expect your love to thrive where secrets sleep? He has to know he can trust you to be honest with him, even when that honesty frightens you. You would want him to tell you if the roles were reversed.

Guilt and fear tangle together and ball in your throat. Astarion jolts at the sudden change in your mood as it resonates over the union, sinking into him as if it were his own. His brows furrow and his eyes dart around aimlessly as he tries to understand the trouble he feels.

“What is wrong, little love?” He coos, taking your hand in his. You can feel his anxiety and the quickened pace of his heart in his palm. “You are frightened. You needn’t be afraid. I am getting better at controlling it. You can tell me anything.”

You steel yourself against the panic. His. Yours. Your combined dread.

You swallow and force the words out of your mouth. “I know what ails you.”

Big thank you for everyone who takes the time to read/reblog/comment, and all the other magnificent things. Your support gives me the motivation to keep this fic going, and I appreciate each of you!

As always, please enjoy.

AO3 [Crossposted]

Master List of Chapters: Fangs and Fractured Hearts

If you're interested I write another fic with Spawn Astarion x Tav called - Shadows of the Past

Small Notes:

-We finally got Astarion to say he loves her, multiple times, and a lot more than that. ❤️💍

How is he going to react when she finally comes clean? 🫣

#ascended astarion #astarion fanfic #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x you #astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion smut #ascendant astarion #soft ascended astarion #named tav #bg3 fic #astarion x oc #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #fangs and fractured hearts

76 notes · View notes

asumofwords · 8 months

Note

So I see you’re going to open up requests soon??? 👀

Lemme just put this one there to marinate because some of the asks have really put the thought in my head with no sign of it leaving me be.

Spooky season is coming!!!!

I rewatch the Haunting series on Netflix every October so I’m kinda feeling a Bly Manor type possession fic. SFA one shot or not, but Aemond’s dead and they were definitely in love. When reader moves on after his death and eventually meets someone she can fall in love with again, maybe she brings him home and Aemond possesses her new man just so he can fuck her again. Bonus points if she doesn’t know the first few times but keeps wondering how her new boo knows exactly what she likes before Aemond finally reveals himself and ultimately, she lets it continue because she gets her Aemond again.

Just some thots

Word Count: 8.6k

Warnings: Death, murder, sadness, depression, thoughts of suicide, talks of blood and gore, moving on, haunted estate, possession, fear, anger, smut, chasing, blood, choking, slapping, fucking, creampie, degradation, rough sex, angry sex, dub-con, slight non-con, confusion, grief, Cregan being possessed by your late husband, spooky vibes.

Pairings: Ghost!Aemond x Reader / Aemond Targaryen Possession Fic, Cregan Stark x Reader, Possessed!Cregan x reader

Notes: Look.... I'm such a Cregan Stark slut, I'm gonna throw him in wherever I can... Hope you enjoy!!!! Hehehe, I hope I have done your request some justice!!! I really enjoyed writing this <3

Aemond Targaryen was a man that could not be summarised by mere words. You didn’t believe that you could ever find enough of them to describe him, if any could come close to it. He was kind, quiet at times, calculating, but passionate. And that was why you had married him. His passion for you was so strong it almost burnt, the flames of it constantly flickering over you like fire.

You had been married for some time, meeting at University, Advanced History and the Politics of Old, and instantly falling for the quiet man who had sat up the back, hand constantly writing notes on paper. He had this charm that surrounded him, and the day you had gotten the courage to ask him out, pacing in front of your mirror all morning, practising the words over and over in your head and aloud, he beat you to it, seemingly having done the same thing.

You were married a year later, a quick turn around, but happy with bliss and the love that you had for each other. Years flew by together and eventually you began to plan for a child, and Aemond in his excitement, invited his family over to announce this to them. His mother, unbeknownst to him, invited his half-sister Rhaenyra, her children, and her husband, Daemon; A man Aemond had once admired, but now despised.

And because of this, tragedy struck.

At first the evening went well, but with the presence of his nephew, Lucerys, the boy who had taken his eye in an accident at a young age, Aemond’s anger simmered that night between him and his uncle, Daemon, and with the alcohol that flowed heavily from the table during your celebrations, a fight broke loose.

You could still see it. Still see it move behind your eyelids like a film, slow motion, then quick, then slow again.

Aemond’s fist flying into Daemon’s cheek, a man much taller and broader than your husband. You had shot up from your chair to reach them, but Alicent had held you back whilst Rhaenyra tried to pull her husband away from her half-brother, who Daemon knelt over, fist after fist striking the younger mans face. You had screamed when Daemon was finally pulled up and away by his angry wife, concern thrown down to her estranged sibling, her violet eyes roaming him for injury.

But your Aemond, your sweet, sweet Aemond, head strong and stubborn as he was, didn’t know when to stop, and so, jumping up from the ground, face bloodied and lips bleeding, Aemond’s hand had snatched a steak knife from the table, charging for Daemon, who pushed Rhaenyra out of the way.

The next thing you knew, Aemond lay lifeless on the floor, knife in his unseeing eye, blood pooling on the floor around him. You had screamed and ran to him, sobbing over his corpse as Daemon stood in shock, looking at his now bloodied hand whilst Alicent blinked down at her son.

Daemon went to jail, a short term for murdering your husband, self defence they had said, since Aemond made the first move and grabbed the knife. And whilst Daemon sat in a cell, visited by his children and wife, you were left alone in the large estate that you had together, bereft with grief and uncertain if life would ever move on without him.

You had thought about it, once or twice, grabbing a razor or taking one too many of the pills the doctors had prescribed for your debilitating depression, or perhaps reaching beneath the sink to grasp at Aemond’s old pain medication and taking the entire lot. But each time you thought of it, you just couldn’t do it. Too cowardly to go forward with it, which almost always ended with you on the floor where he had died, sobbing into the flagstones.

It had been five years when you met him, five years when you decided to get back out into the world. Or not really decided, more like forced to by Helaena, Aemond’s older sister, who had been your life boat through grieving the loss of her brother. She had told you that Jacaerys, her nephew she had no qualms with despite the family tension, had a friend that you would get along with. Someone kind and gentle, and so far away from being anything like Aemond, that it was a safe bet.

And so one night of a blind date with Cregan Stark, Helaena and her girlfriend Cassandra joining as a buffer, turned into two, which then turned to three, then four, until soon enough, you were falling for the man.

He was courteous. Tall and broad, with long, dark hair and a short beard, or more like stubble that had been left untouched for days on end. He had kind grey eyes, that looked like a winters storm that swirled each time he gazed at you.

And he was different. That’s what you likened as to why you liked him.

He was the complete opposite of Aemond.

Where Aemond was fiery and warm, Cregan was cool and patient, always waiting for you to make the first step. Whenever you would fight, if at all you would manage to get him to react, it would always end with him apologising to you.

Even when you were in the wrong.

That was one thing you hated about it.

He would never rise to your goading, never rise to the bait you would set for him to flare his temper. Sure, he would get angry, his wild grey eyes alight with something, but it would pass as soon as a storm, and he would leave to walk it out, or ask for space.

You missed how it had been with Aemond. How you could goad him into anger, to have him fold you over any surface and have his way with you, rutting into you violently and cruelly, as he ripped peak, after peak from you, until you begged for mercy, tears falling down your cheeks.

But Cregan was different, softer, sweeter, and not at all like your hot headed late husband.

And this, you were thankful for.

In some ways at least.

It had been over a year of dating when you finally asked him to move into the estate with you. He lived awhile away, and you were alone in a house that had close to a hundred rooms and only memories to haunt you. It only felt right to fill it up with one more person.

The estate was old, and although Aemond had died within its walls, you just couldn’t leave it.

You were stuck.

Feeling drawn to its stones and halls, and even the mere thought of parting with it made you breathless.

Though, there was something about the old estate that made your skin crawl.

It had always made you uncomfortable, and it was something that you had voiced to Aemond upon many a times, and he would always assure you, that they could not touch you, whoever they were.

But something was different.

Something had changed in the years past since Aemond had died.

Helaena had once come to the estate, months after the fact, and gone pale, looked right past you as though she was looking at someone there. But when you had turned, there was no-one. Not a soul, or wisp, or a particle. Just air.

But it was cold. And Helaena had told you, whilst staring behind, that Aemond would always be with you.

But you knew he would. You had his memories, his photos, his clothes that you had folded in trunks in the attic, or the blanket that still smelt very much like him that you would curl into on lonely nights and breathe in his scent.

Of course he would always be with you.

He was your first love.

But there was something about the estate.

You just didn’t know what.

It didn’t help that no matter what you did, you felt like you were being watched. But the building was as old as the hills, and your therapist had told you it was likely just your hyper observance and PTSD to blame.

There were no ghosts in the house, no ghouls or monsters. It was just you.

You and the empty walls, and halls that used to house his voice, and his smile, and his laughter.

You were lonely, that much was sure, and although you loved Cregan, you truly did, it would just never match the love you and Aemond had. Not that you were comparing the two to each other in that way. Aemond was fire, Cregan was ice. They were both two very different people who loved in two very different ways. And you knew, much to your grief, that it was time to move on.

Time to move forward with your life.

And so you did. With Cregan. And that feeling of being watched only amplified. The feeling of heat on the back of you neck, being watched wherever you went, multiplying by tenfold with Cregan’s now permanent presence.

The rooms would suddenly get cold, to the point that he had even noted it, but had explained it away; His home back in Winterfell was older than this estate, and it too had cold spots in it.

It didn’t mean anything, it was just the old buildings, with old drafts, and terrible old insulation.

But something felt off since he moved in.

You always felt like you were being watched but it had changed to something more angry. Like something was always in the corner of your eye when with him, especially when intimate. But Cregan, with this kind eyes and unbendable patience, listened to your worries, and ensured you that it was fine, and even if there was an entity in the estate, it could not touch you, nor harm you, and probably didn’t even know you were there, lost in a world of its own.

Yet, you still couldn’t shake the feeling of it. Maybe it was because you were moving on, and feeling guilty about doing so.

You didn’t move into your old room that had been yours and Aemond’s. That was off limits. Closed for good, unless you wished to go in there and sit for a while. It had been over six years, six long years without him, but maybe, just maybe, Aemond would want you to move on.

Yes, you were sure of it.

He would want you to be happy, to move on. Not forget about him, but to continue on with your life without him, despite the feeling that your life had stopped with him the day he was killed.

You still had night terrors about it, picturing his body on the floor, lifeless and cold, blood pooled beneath his head, seeing eye staring up unfocused.

The terrors had gotten worse when Cregan had moved in. You would wake with a scream, and the vision and smell of blood before you, body covered in a light sheen of sweat, and the feeling as though something, or someone, had be pushing down on your chest. And each time, Cregan would be there for you, to ground you, to bring you back to the present and hold you as you sobbed in his arms, and eventually went back to sleep, skin tingling with the feeling of an extra eye on you.

But Cregan made you feel safe.

There were many things about Cregan that you adored. His loyalty to his friends and family, his smile when excited or pleased, the way he would hold you tightly against his chest, head tucked beneath his chin as you inhaled deeply.

And to top it all off, he was an amazing lover.

Sleeping with Cregan was different to what it had been like with Aemond. He was gentler, softer, less rough and violent. Which was something you actually missed. When once you had asked Cregan to wrap his large hands around your throat, he had blushed and looked away, saying he needed time to work his way up to that. And so you dropped it, and respected that boundary.

It wasn’t that the sex wasn’t good, it was. Cregan knew how to bring you to your peak with practised skill. It was just that it wasn’t what you needed. You needed a release. A cathartic bloom of pleasurable pain, submission and dominance, to not be in control, to let someone take the reins and bring you to a warm and fuzzy place that Aemond called ‘Sub Space’. You needed to feel the ache of being roughly handled, to see the bruises of Cregan’s love on your skin the next day or week after, but he was almost afraid of hurting you.

Gods bless that sweet man.

Footsteps clumped from down the hall as the tv softly played the previews of a new show on Netflix. You leant back against the couch, tucked under a thick blanket as you watched Cregan enter the lounge room with two bowls in hand.

“What are we watching?” His deep voice curled around the room, eyes darting to the tv as you scrolled down, trying to find something the two of you could watch.

“I don’t know.” You flicked to the Recommended For You section, the couch dipping beside you as he sat, placing the steaming bowls of pasta in front of you, “Thanks.” You pecked his cheek lightly, before looking back at the screen.

“What are our options?” His fork clinked on the edge of his bowl as he twirled the long pasta up his fork, shoving it into his mouth beside you.

“Pride and Prejudice-“

“-2005 or BBC?” Cregan interrupted.

“2005 obviously.” You smirked, turning back to the tv, “Jurassic Park, Knives Out,” You flicked through the recommendation list, hearing a snicker beside you as you moved past 365 Days, “Gone Girl-“

“Gone Girl? What’s that?” Cregan asked between chews, large hand reaching to place your own bowl into your lap.

You grinned, “Only one of the best movies ever. Have you really not seen it?” You turned to face him, watching as he shook his head. “Gone Girl it is.”

The movie began to play as you settled in at his side, eating the dinner he had made you both. Cregan was engrossed in the film, and made you laugh as he screamed profanity at the tv, already hating Ben Affleck's character thinking he had killed his wife.

Towards the end of the movie however, Cregan was cheering Amy on, getting excited as it went through her step by step revenge plan. You were almost at the crescendo of the film when you felt Cregan shift beside you, his audible stream of consciousness suddenly stopped.

You turned your head to look at him.

The large man was sitting stiff as a board beside you, grey eyes narrowed onto your face. It was as if all emotions had slid away, leaving a cool exterior. You frowned, turning your body to face him completely, watching as his eyes slid carefully over your body.

“Are you okay?” You asked, wondering what had changed his mood so suddenly.

Cregan’s eyes blinked slowly, lids half hooded as he peered at you.

There was something about it that was familiar.

Something about it that sent a shiver down your spine.

And as if it didn’t happen, Cregan blinked again, shaking his head slightly, large hand coming to press at an eye as though in pain.

Your hand reached out to rest on his shoulder, “Hey, are you okay?” Concern written on your features.

Brows furrowed, he winced, pressing the heel of his hand into his eye, “Sorry.” He apologised through gritted teeth, “Migraine came out of nowhere.”

Sympathy rolled through you. Standing from the couch you clicked your tongue, “That’s no good. Let me get you some pain killers.”

Your bare feet pressed into the cold flagstones as you headed to the large kitchen, bending at the waist to rifle in the small medicine box under the sink.

The box was old, something left over from Aemond, with the painkillers still inside that he used for whenever his eye and scar was giving him bother. You spotted the small silver packet of pain killers beside Aemond’s old ones, out of date and not useful to anyone, and yet you still could never bring yourself to get rid of them, as though your brain worried that they would be needed out of habit despite him no longer being there anymore.

Bypassing your late husbands medication, you pulled at the small packet of regular painkillers and made your way back to the lounge room, worrying over Cregan’s sudden pain.

He never usually had migraines or headaches, but it had become something more frequent since he moved in. His doctor had said it could be allergies, or perhaps even the presence of black mould in the old estate, but you had hired mould cleaners, and even mould detecters who brought in an old dog to sniff about the property, and they, not once, found any sign of damp or growing fungus.

Entering the lounge you spotted Cregan, sitting stiff backed on the couch, head immediately flicking to you.

“I got you some pain killers,” You walked towards him, popping two little pills out of the foil packet, “Is it bad?”

Cregan’s lips twitched slightly as he watched you, eyes narrowed, and yet he did not answer.

Must be bad if he’s not talking.

“Here.” You held your hand out, waiting to place the two painkillers into his palm.

Cregan Stark watched you with hawklike eyes, not taking the pills from you. Suddenly he stood, large frame towering over you as he looked down his nose at you, face devoid of any emotion, and a certain strike of familiarity sparked inside your mind.

Why does this feel familiar?

A large hand struck out, grabbing you neck roughly, squeak falling from your lips as you were tugged towards Cregan, his lips finding yours in a rough and bruising kiss, his straight teeth nipping at your bottom lip roughly, tingles climbing up your spine. He kissed you until you were out of breath, hand not releasing itself from your neck, keeping you firmly to him until you parted bare centimetres away to catch your breath, lips brushing against each other as you heaved.

“What's gotten into you?” You breathed heavily, want coursing through you.

The pink of his tongue darted out to wet his lips, though moving slower as though he was savouring the taste of you on him, “I’ve missed this.” Came a deep purr from within his chest.

A smirk pulled at your mouth, “You had me last night.” You teased, nibbling at your bottom lip, wondering where this sudden burst of lust had come from.

Cregan merely grunted as he crashes his lips back against yours, fingers tightening around your throat in a way that you had begged him to do for months, cutting the supply of blood flow making your head spin. You mewled as he broke the kiss, spinning you around to push you over the edge of the couch arm.

Air was ripped from your lungs as he pushed his weight onto your lower back with his hand, fingers ripping at your clothes to reveal your slick folds to the room.

There was no preparation, no warning, just the sudden and sharp bite of his length pushing into your walls. You cried out, hands grasping at the pillows as he set a rough pace, his length dragging in and out of you sharply as he grunted from behind.

Cregan’s weight pushed into your spine as he continues to rut into you wildly, feet dangling uselessly as he fucking you over the arm of the couch, hands gripping the pillows tightly in your hands. It was the first time he had ever fucked you with such vigour, without care, and it set your nerves alight.

You whined beneath him, feeling closer and closer to your peak, slick coating your thighs and his length, the wet sound of flesh against flesh behind you.

“Always such a good little slut for me.” Cregan growled, and the sound sent tremors through you.

Your brows furrowed, a nagging sensation in the back of your mind telling you that something was not quite right. That Cregan would never call you that, had never called you that, and that it was something that Ae-

Blinding white pleasure burst through you as you came, Cregan moaning behind you as he felt your walls tighten around his length. You whined beneath him, body going slack as he sought out his own peak, rutting into you frantically until he came with a grunt, warmth filling your walls.

You slumped against the couch, mind hazy as your climax scrambled all thoughts. A kiss was pressed against your shoulder blade and a small hiss came from behind as your boyfriend pulled out of your core. Too tired to move, and the man clearly sensing that, you were scooped up into two large arms and carried off to your bedroom.

The rest of the evening a blur of being cleaned, given water to drink, and then the soft sheets and warmth of a body pressed up against you in bed, large hand stroking over your hair lovingly as you drifted off to sleep.

When you woke the next morning, it was to a grunt of pain and not pleasure. Cregan was laid on his back, hand once again pressed into his eye as his brows furrowed, desperate to alleviate the pain that settled behind it.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, turning to face him, watching as he tried to compose himself, a soft wince pulling at his features.

“Migraine again.” Cregan whispered into the early morning air.

Your hand out of habit, moved to soothe the hair at the top of his head on the side of the eye pain, in a way that was purely instinctual, in a way that you had for many years with Aemond whenever he would wake in pain, or lay in silence, biting roughly at his own lips to try and get through it alone.

Pressing a kiss to the side of Cregan’s face you crawled out of bed, “You didn’t take the painkillers last night that’s why. I’ll go get you some more.”

You had brought him the painkillers and forced him to take them with a whole glass of water, before settling back into the covers with him, soothing his long brown hair away from his face as the pain slowly dissipated away from his features.

The next week, it happened again.

The headache.

The cool half lidded gaze.

The sudden change in demeanour.

The things that he did and said reminded you so much of Aemond, that you felt immediate guilt for thinking of your late husband whilst in the throws of a rough fuck with your new boyfriend. But this time you took the reins, and told him to slow down, told him that you wanted it softer, more loving, more him.

“Sl-slow down.” You pleaded from below, thighs pressed against your chest as Cregan pushed his whole length inside of you, tip of his cock pushing against your cervix.

His eyes narrowed on you as he grunted, fucking into you harder instead, “No.” He growled, and a small spark of fear sparked up your spine.

Tears welled in your eyes as you pushed at his chest, “S-stop. Cregan, stop.” Your nails dug into his chest as you tried to push him off of you, yet his pace didn’t falter.

Your brain in its confusion pushed out a word you hadn’t used in years, a word that was reserved for you and Aemond only, a word that was to be used if you wanted all things to end.

“Perzys.”

Fire.

Cregan immediately stopped, eyes blinking suddenly as he looked down at you in a moment of confusion, and then concern. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you looked at him, your own confusion and sorrow swirling inside of you.

How did he-

“What’s wrong?”

A tear slid down your cheek as you felt him looking over you, blinking again as though trying to rise from a fog, and yet he had stopped. He stopped with a word that he shouldn’t have even known.

Or maybe you had told him. Maybe you had, a long time ago? Maybe he was confused by your sudden use of the foreign word? Maybe-

“You’re scaring me.” Your words came out breathlessly, all desire having leaked from your body and replaced with a myriad of others.

Guilt.

Fear.

Confusion.

Grief.

It was too real.

It was too familiar.

It was-

“I thought this was what you wanted, ñuha-“ Cregan’s hand flew to his eye, pressing into it roughly as he gasped out in pain.

You scrambled to sit up, pulling his length from inside of you as you held onto his face, soothing his hair away, fear replaced with worry.

“Hey, what’s going on?” You asked in concern, watching as Cregan’s teeth ground down on each other, low grunt of agony passing through his clenched teeth.

“Let me see.” You begged, mind going into autopilot as you gently grasped his wrist, pulling his hand away from his eye as he blinked down at you in surprise for a moment, a multitude of emotions flashing across his face before his hand rose, and then his face crumpled once again, and the heel of his hand pushed back into his eye.

You sprung into action, body already taking you immediately to get painkillers for him, hand reaching for the little yellow pill container before having to grab the others.

Eventually you got him to settle into bed, begging him to see a doctor, before the two of you finally agreed to see one later that week.

And what an uneventful doctors visit that was.

Two MRI’s, CT scans, and blood tests later, the doctor gave him the all clear. No growths to be seen, or unusual brain activity, not even a simple vitamin deficiency; Cregan was the pinnacle of health. The Stark came out of the doctors office with reassurance that there was no malignant growth or anything to be worried about, but a warning that perhaps stress was the causation for his sudden pains. He was given instructions to rest, and so Cregan took sick leave for the rest of the month.

Two weeks into Cregan’s rest, and the both of you were pleased to find that Cregan didn’t have another migraine attack. Nor did his demeanour suddenly change like the last time, much to your relief.

Winter had begun to roll into the realm, and the estate, being as old as it was, became far colder at times, inside than out. The fires were constantly lit to keep you both warm, and it made for a rather romantic setting for the two of you.

That morning you had gone out to get a nice bottle of wine to bring home. You were going to surprise Cregan with a home cooked meal, a nice bottle of red, and then after, if you were both feeling inclined, which you knew you would be, a slow and gentle fuck in front of the fireplace.

You had gone out of your way to avoid him that day, going to the shops to buy ingredients, prepping the dinner as quietly and quickly as you could, lighting candles in the casual lounge room for the two of you, and placing some fluffed pillows before the hearth to lounge in.

It was perfect.

Your dinner was cooked, and you were ready for the evening and with good timing. You heard Cregan walking through the hall as you put his bowl next to yours on the coffee table, placing the nice bottle of wine in the centre as you brushed down the sides of your dress and made sure your hair was perfect.

The dress you wore was tight and black, and although you had thought of wearing heels, there was no need to in your own home, so you went bare foot. Beneath your dress lay a lacy surprise. You waited to see Cregan enter the room, to see his smiling eyes and warm grin at you, but he kept on. Walking straight past the lounge, his footsteps disappearing down the vast hall.

You stood in confusion for a moment.

Maybe he was going to the bathroom.

Maybe he didn’t know you were there or that you had cooked dinner.

But he would have smelt it.

And he would have known.

You waited for a while longer, hoping he was making his way back, but when he didn’t, you began to grow impatient, leaving your steaming dinner behind to go in search for him. In that moment you cursed the vastness of the estate, but knew that Cregan wasn't really one to explore it. He kept to what he knew, and so you went to those spaces.

He wasn’t in your shared room.

Or the dining hall.

Or one of the many bathrooms.

Nor was he in the kitchen.

The estate was cold, and dark, and the coolness of the home creeped up your bare feet and into your spine, sending shivers running down it. You called out his name, hoping he would come to you so that you would eat.

But no response came.

It wasn’t until you were climbing the stairs back to your bedroom that you noticed a light on in a distant room.

A room far down the end of the east wing. A room in which Cregan knew he wasn’t allowed inside. A room in which you had not been inside of for a long, long time.

A pang of hurt and anger rose inside of you as you went towards it, feet slapping against the stones as you got closer and closer, unready and unwilling to be reasonable for such a boundary being crossed.

This was not what you had planned for the evening.

The hallway became shorter, as you got closer, and the air in the hall changed. It became colder. Sharper. More charged. And the anger that you had within you, slowly began to crackle as you came to a stop, spotting Cregan standing in Aemond’s study, his large back to you.

“What are you doing?” You demanded, hurt rising within as he stood in front of Aemond’s old desk.

There was the smallest of whispers of something not being right that began to grow in the back of your mind.

But Cregan did not answer you, nor did he turn to look at you when he would have no doubt heard you enter.

The room opened a wound you thought had been closed.

And Cregan had done that.

You stepped towards him again, no answer still from his lips.

You thought he was better than this.

You thought that he respected this boundary.

What did he want from coming into this room?

Why would he be in here?

You looked at his posture.

Bone straight.

His large hands clenching and unclenching at his side as his head stayed straight on.

Something wasn’t right.

“You shouldn’t be in here.” You told him, voice wary as you stopped yourself mere feet away from him.

Again, no answer.

Did something happen?

Was this a test?

“Cregan?”

And then you heard it.

A low chuckle.

A sound that in your years of dating Cregan, you had not heard once.

And in your years of his absence, you had missed.

It was a chuckle that sent ice running down your spine.

And yet, your feet took you forward anyway.

“Cregan?” You asked again, wariness in your voice as you tried to peer around his side and look at his face.

Was this a dream?

A nightmare?

A hum. All that came from his chest, was a deep and oh too familiar hum.

“Hm.”

Your spine stiffened, and it felt as though the air in the room turned to ice, goosebumps rising on your skin.

“This isn’t funny, Cregan. Get out.” One last attempt of courage, one last attempt of standing your ground, or at least your first attempt, which came and flew and crashed to the ground in flames.

Cregan finally shifted, turning to face you, and although it was the face of your boyfriend, it was the mannerisms of your late husband which caused you to gasp out in fear. On Cregan’s soft lips, was the sharp pull of a smirk that Aemond almost always reserved for you.

“I’ve missed you zaldrītsos.” Little dragon.

Horror flooded you.

“Cregan.” You warned in clenched teeth, afraid that if they were open, they’d chatter, “This isn’t funny.”

Growling, a tear fell down your cheek, your hands clenched into fists as you looked at him.

He had no right to be in this room.

He had no right to call you that name.

To act as he did.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Another smirk, and a step towards you, “Cregan is indisposed.”

Another tear fell down your cheek as you took a step backwards and away, watching as his eyes roamed down your body, “Cut it out, Creg. I’m serious.”

Brown hair cascaded over his shoulder as he tilted his head at you, clicking his tongue, “Oh, I'm deathly serious.” Came his purr-like response.

Your heart raced against your ribcage, blood rushing into your ears as you stared at him in shock and fear.

This-

It couldn’t-

It wasn’t-

“Aemond?” You breathed.

And it was the smile that did it for you. The smile you had prayed and hoped and dreamed to see every day for the years without it, yet now, seeing it up close on the face of your boyfriend scared the living wits from you.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he shifted lightly on his feet, not at all in the clunky manner that Cregan would have, but it in a smooth, calculated way that was every movement Aemond would make, “Have you missed me?”

You couldn’t move.

You couldn’t breathe.

You couldn’t speak, even if you dared to.

It must be a dream.

A cruel dream.

A nightmare in which you would wake from soon.

But it felt too real.

It felt too sure.

He was here.

There, right in front of you. But it wasn’t him.

It wasn’t his body, his face, his voice.

But it was him.

He took another step towards you, and your stumbled backwards, mouth agape as you looked at him, the shadows of the dark lit room falling across his face.

And then there it was.

That Cheshire Cat smile.

“Run."

Your feet bound on the flagstones as you fled in terror, racing down the stairs to try and escape, to leave the estate, to get to your car and go, or your phone, or anywhere that wasn’t near him. To get away from him. It wasn’t him.

It wasn’t him.

It was.

It was him.

Air struggled to get into your lungs as you ran as fast as you could, hands catching themselves on the stone walls, nails biting into them as you caught yourself taking sharp corners, the dark halls and stairways causing your heart to race faster, feeling as though they were closing in on you.

You didn’t dare look back.

You knew he was there.

You knew he was chasing you.

Something you had done together for fun, for pleasure, but now, you were struck with terror.

But there it was, sweet salvation.

The floor crashed up towards you as you landed heavily on your knees, tripping on the last step, not wasting anytime to check for injury nor even feel the blood that dripped down your legs, knees skinned from landing on the ancient stone floors.

But there it was.

The main hall.

And there at the end, your way out.

Your escape.

The front doors of the estate.

You raced for it, heart in your throat, air barely in your lungs as they screamed for a reprieve, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you got closer and closer, fear still crawling up your throat, threatening to break through as a scream.

And scream you did as your body was hauled off of your feet and into the air by a pair of large arms, wrapped around your centre. You kicked and clawed as you tried to get away from him, mind racing a million miles an hour, unsure of what was happening, and if it was even possible, but desperate to get away.

Not a sound, nor a jeer, nor a tease came from the man behind you. Not even a word to reassure you that this was a game, that it was Cregan, that you were safe, that this was just a long planned part of a fantasy you had expressed you wanted and he had denied.

There was no reassurance.

There was no check in.

Because it wasn’t Cregan.

It was Aemond.

And as he hauled you back down the hall and up the stairs, kicking and screaming, back to his study, tears falling from your cheeks, you knew that it was him. You knew that it had been the slightest glimmers of him in Cregan the past month. Those migraines were more, those changes were more, and you had ignored them.

Your hips collided with the desk of Aemond's study as he threw you into it, hands desperate to catch your fall, spreading across the desk knocking over items that had not been touched nor moved for years.

“I’ve had to watch him fuck you, every night.” He growled from behind, as you tried to push yourself up, his body caging you into his desk. There was a flicker of familiarity of the times you had once found yourself in a similar predicament.

“I’ve had to hear your moans and whines, knowing they were for someone else.” He said angrily, pulling at your dress, ripping it upwards as you tried to pull it back down, hands clawing backwards at his arms.

“You’re insane!” You screamed at him, “Get off me, Cregan!”

Aemond chuckled from behind, “You know it’s me. You always did like it rough,” His hands smacked yours away from him, shoving your face down on the desk again, “And poor Cregan just couldn’t do that for you, could he?”

Tears fell onto the desk below you, brain short circuiting as you didn’t know what to do or how to react, “Cregan, this isn’t funny.” You tried one last time, hoping his name would reach him, to snap him out of whatever this was, “Please, stop.”

Two large hands wrapped themselves around your wrists, bringing them both into one as he squeezed, face coming to the side of yours as he growled deeply, “Stop. Calling. Me. That.”

Aemond’s free hand ripped at your lace panties that you had worn for Cregan, tearing them to shreds from your body, the burn of the material hot against your skin. His hips pressed into you from behind roughly, and you stifled a confused and frightened sob.

“I’m going to fuck this little pussy like I’ve wanted to for years.” He emphasised with a grind against your backside, “I’ve had to watch you cry over me, my sweet byka mēre.” Little one, You sobbed loudly at the name, “Ao sagon ñuhon. Iksan dōrī ivestragī jā.” You’re mine. I am never letting you go.

It was him.

It was truly him.

Cregan couldn’t speak Aemond’s native tongue.

Cregan didn’t know the names your late husband had called you.

It was him.

It was Aemond.

You sobbed beneath him, you didn’t know if it was in relief, in horror, or in fear.

You were so confused.

“Valzȳrys?” Husband, You cried, trying to turn your head, but knowing that you would be met with a face that didn’t match.

Long fingers brushed through your folds, finding them slick already, “Shhh.” Aemond quietened you, “Let me take care of my ābrazȳrys.” Wife.

Aemond smeared your slick through your folds with the tip of his cock as he brushed against your bud and then pushed inside of you. A long groan fluttered through his chest, vibrating against your back.

He set a brutal pace immediately, the old, heavy, wooden desk jutting with each thrust, your hips no doubt bruised from the force. Tears still fell from your eyes as you cried out, feeling him pull you by your hair, causing your back to arch up against his front as he fucked into you harder, hot pants in your ear.

Aemond fucked you in a way that only he knew how, pulling mewl after mewl from you with every stroke, large palm squeezing at your throat whilst the other moved to grasp at your hip, pulling you back onto his cock roughly, slick dripping down your thighs as the coil within you began to tighten.

“So fucking tight for me.” He grunted from behind, hand coming to your front to gather some slick from your folds as he parted them further, his cock plunging inside of you from between them, “So fucking wet. I have missed this little pussy.”

His fingers pressed against your bud, swirling in time with his thrusts, causing your pleasure to mount faster and faster, the tears having stopped falling from your eyes as you moaned loudly, head thrown back against his shoulder.

Your release was bounding towards you rapidly, and Aemond felt it.

“Squeezing me so good, you gonna cum for me already?”

You nodded, feeling a smirk beside your cheek as he pressed harder against your bud, “Cum for me.”

The coil snapped, and warmth flooded over your body as your writhed in his grip, walls gripping his cock as you came hard. Aemond increased his pace, fucking into you harder as he squeezed your neck roughly, mind spinning and vision going black in the corners.

You felt like you were floating.

You hadn’t felt like this in years.

Aemond moaned from behind you as your walls clamped down on him, “Such a perfect little pussy.” He thrusted deeply into you, grinding the air out of your lungs as your mouth dropped open, “Made me for me. Only me.”

You body began to feel heavy as he continued to squeeze your throat, mind going fuzzy as you floated in bliss, his cock drilling into your walls, the sound of your slick release obscene in the room as he clapped his hips against yours.

“You’re mine.” Came a growl that sounded just like Aemond’s voice and not Cregan’s, tip of his cock jutting into your cervix painfully, “Forever.”

You nodded weakly and whined, “Yours. Only yours.”

Tears began to spring into your eyes again, knowing that this was Aemond. Knowing that this was him, but also knowing that you could never have him truly. Knowing he was gone, and never coming back, and although you had tried, although you did love Cregan, you would never truly move on from Aemond.

You would always be his.

The grip around your neck pulled away and blood rushed to your head, strange euphoria taking over as you felt his pull out of you from behind. You stumbled forward slightly before he caught you, turning you around and lifting you onto the desk. And although you were staring at Cregan’s face, with his stormy grey eyes and his brown hair, you could tell just by the way his features contorted, by the way he moved or talked or fucked you, that it was Aemond.

And at this, more tears came.

Aemond sucked his tongue at you, wiping away a tear roughly as he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, and without waiting another second, slid back inside of your walls, a needy moan falling from your lips as you continued to cry.

Aemond began to rub at your clit again, sending blinding pleasure back up your spine. It was almost too much, too intense, added with everything else, your mind was running in circles.

You whimpered and tried to run away from his fingers, which only served to anger him.

“Stop crying.” He ordered, hand slapping at your clit in warning causing you to yelp.

You hiccuped and sniffled, body jolting with every thrust as he pushed you backwards to lay down on the desk, hovering over you, one hand gripping your shoulder to pull you back down on him, the other pressed onto your swollen bud, “You like when I fuck this little pussy?” He grunted, and you closed your eyes, trying to imagine his face instead of seeing Cregan’s.

“You’ve been thinking of me, haven’t you?” He chastised you, tutting meanly as you nodded your head with a suppressed sob, “He could never fuck you the way I can.”

Pleasure mounting within you again, all you could do was nod and babble yes.

This seemed to both please and anger Aemond, his thrusts speeding up as your spine rubbed painfully into the hard wooden surface, “Cregan could never give you what you want. What you need. He’s useless.” A tear tracked down your cheek as you turned your head away, looking at the far wall as he ploughed into your cunt, “It’s only me. Only I can make you feel this good.”

You moaned beneath him as you felt your second peak rising just as rapidly as the first, his hand not once relenting. But your non-answer came at a cost. Pain bloomed in the side of your cheek as you squeaked, slap having caught your attention as Aemond pinched your jaw in his hand to look up into eyes that weren’t his.

“Say it.” He thrust into you sharply and as deep as he could go, sparks of pain rippling through your cervix in a haze of confusing pleasure.

“Only you,” You whined, “Always you, Aemond.”

“Good girl.”

Aemond’s pace increased, determined to bring you to your end as well as reach his, each thrust jolting the desk against the floor and punching the air from your lungs. You knew that by morning you’d be an aching and bruised mess, but that thought only brought you closer to your peak.

Loving kisses were dotted against your cheeks as Aemond soothed the tracks of tears away with his lips. Your hands reaching up to wrap themselves around his shoulders and your legs around his waist, desperate to pull him in closer.

“Please.” You whimpered, but you didn’t know what for.

Aemond’s arms scooped under your back and pulled you closer to him, changing the angle so that his cock pressed deeper and at a higher angle, one that he knew you loved the most.

And it was all that you needed before you fell of the edge with him, head tossed back in ecstasy as you came for the second time, Aemond following you with a long moan, pressing as deep as he could inside of you.

“I love you.” You whispered into his neck, feeling his cock pulse inside of you, cum filling up your walls.

Your hands soothed the hair at the front of his face in a way you knew he liked, and you felt him shudder from above, kisses pressed into the crux of your shoulder and neck as he whispered into the skin.

I love you.

All too soon, the high of your ecstasy fizzled away, and reality came crashing down around you. Your arms and legs tightened around him, small hiss coming through his teeth as your walls clamped around him.

The stinging prickle of tears filled your eyes again, “Please don’t leave me.” You cried, heart beginning to feel as though it was breaking all over again.

Aemond pulled away from you, though not without a struggle, a different face looking down at you with a familiar sign of love. His hand came to brush the tears away from your cheek slowly, before he leant down to pull you into a kiss, your lips shuddering as you poorly contained a sob, “I will never leave you.” He whispered against your lips, “Not now, not ever. I am always here.” He pulled away, soothing your hair from your face as his brows pulled together in a way that you knew pain was coming.

You tried to sit up, to try and soothe his pain, to instinctually run for the medication you had kept all these years, but he stopped you, cupping your cheek with his large hand as he looked down at you, eyes now full of determination, “I am always watching you. And one day, Cregan won’t be a problem anymore.”

You blinked in confusion as you looked at him, your own brows furrowing, but before you could even respond, his eyes shut in pain and a groan whittled through his lips, heel of his hand pressed into the side of his face where Aemond had lost his eye.

“Aemond?” You whispered quietly, unsure what was happening.

Grey eyes opened slightly, looking at you in confusion as he blinked a couple of times, “Huh?” A low groan came from deep within his chest as he clutched the side of his head, “Wha- Wher-“

“Cregan?”

His eyes opened at you again, and then did a sweep of you and the position you were in. You looked no doubt a mess, hair tousled, neck red from where Aemond’s- Cregan’s hands had squeezed, down to your ripped dress, to finally where you were still connected, your combined releases leaking onto the old wooden desk.

Blinking rapidly he noticed the tear tracks staining your cheeks, and suddenly the pain was pushed away by concern. Cregan’s hand came to touch your neck tentatively, fear rising on his features, "Are you okay?” His voice was rushed, “Are you hurt? Did I- Did I hurt you?”

Guilt and pain struck in your chest.

He thought you were hurt.

He thought he hurt you.

You shook your head rapidly, clutching the sides of his face in your hands, “No, no. You didn’t hurt me. Not at all.”

Cregan seemed to relax at this, though there was still confusion as he looked at you, forehead pulled in pain as he tried to piece everything together.

“Did we…”

You bit at your lip, worrying it between your teeth, “Are you okay? Do you remember anything?”

The man closed his eyes for a moment, trying to think, “I remember smelling food, and then I had this urge to go somewhere.“

Your heart began to race in your chest as you looked at him. You wet your lips with your tongue, eyes searching his face for any sign of Aemond left.

What had just happened?

Was any of that real?

What was happening to you?

What was happening to Cregan?

“Hey.” Cregan caught your attention again, lowering his face to your height, “Are you okay?”

Your mouth was dry.

Were you okay?

No.

Yes.

You didn’t know.

“I’m okay.” You lied.

Cregan frowned at your obvious avoidance, “You sure I didn’t hurt you?”

“Positive.” You reassured him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, your stomach turning.

When you pulled away, Cregan was watching you with caution again.

“What?” You asked quietly, fear beginning to rise inside of you.

Did he remember?

Does he know?

Did he-

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You couldn’t help it.

You couldn’t stop it if you tried.

A broken sob fell through your lips like a half laugh.

Had you?

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