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taevbears · 6 months

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Magic Shop - 11

You find out what Seokjin calls you behind your back.

⤑ pairing: OT7 x witch!reader, Seokjin focused ⤑ genre: magic au, romance, angst, hurt/comfort, found family, domestic/slice of life, action/adventure ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 12.0k ⤑ warnings: smut (penetrative), seokjin gets a little jealous and touchy (risky touching?), verbal sexual harassment, pet names, minor character death, public torture (whipping, implied starvation, not y/n or the boys), description of bodily harm, oppression of mages, implied shady business dealings, a bit of piracy, probable inaccuracies with 92 liners, mentions of violence, y/n and seokjin are so ride or die for each other lmao. ⤑ note: this is the 2nd half of jin's story! if you haven't read the ch 10 yet or need a refresher, please do so before reading this chapter! but man, the amount of times i had to re-write some scenes bc i was afraid it was getting too complicated. even though it's a long one, i hope you guys enjoy! i'd love to hear your thoughts on everything :)

Chapters: Series ML | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13

In the time that Seokjin is away, there hasn’t been a single day where he isn’t thinking about you.

In the throes of battle, surrounded by enemies. Swords viciously clash against each other and arrows of fire shoot across the sky. An anguished cry from a fallen opponent pierces the air. And Seokjin, unceremoniously running his sword through an incoming enemy, wonders if you’re having a good day.

During a third round of drinks in a noisy pub. Drunk comrades are crooning classic love songs, their words slurring together as they belt out notes off-key. One of them is in their feelings and is crying under the table. Glass shatters from the corner of the bar and a brawl is let loose. As a chair flies over his head, Seokjin worries if you’re eating well and sleeping okay.

Late at night, in their makeshift camp that’s located in the middle of nowhere. The cackles of a small bonfire, the snores of his team, and the chirps of crickets fill the quiet night. Above him, the stars and moon are beautiful, and Seokjin gazes up at them forlornly as a wild bear approaches the camp. He ignores the menacing roar and the panicked screams as he realizes how much he misses you.

It feels like he’s been away from you longer than he really has. With every begrudging step, he and the Freelancers travel on foot to their destination. The location of their target is far, and the threats of wild animals, bandits, and other ailments make the roads dangerous.

But nothing – not even the merciless wrath of the Devoted gods – could withstand the constant bickering between the two leaders of the Freelancers.

Day in and day out, it feels like the two brothers – Adnan and Tariq – can’t settle on anything without a disagreement. Diplomatic and a pacifist, Adnan tries to help anyone he comes across who are in need. Tariq scolds him for giving away needed supplies and for wasting their time. But while Adnan is checking local inns and encouraging the guild to turn in for the night, Tariq and his followers unwind at pubs and bars until the early hours of the morning. They’ve been nothing but hostile toward each other. Not only are they getting on each other’s nerves, but it’s affecting everyone else as well.

“Have they always been like that?” Seokjin asks, keeping his voice low as he eyes the tent the brothers are in. Everyone is pretending they can’t hear them yelling at each other again.

Byulyi nods her head solemnly. “It’s been getting worse. Ever since their father got sick, he’s been giving Adnan the responsibility to lead the guild. But Tariq has his own ideas and wants to run things very differently.”

Just then, Tariq storms out of Adnan’s tent. A silence follows as the guild gauges his angered expression. And the tension continues to linger even after Tariq enters his own tent without a word.

Their mission comes directly from a wealthy nobleman.

There’s a looming threat of something in the nearby woods. Every night, the villagers hear a horrid groan. It spooks the dogs and the livestock. To make matters worse, those who’ve dared to investigate the strange sound have yet to return. No one knows if it’s a beast, a cult, or witchcraft. Whatever it is, it seems to be getting closer to the town.

The mission is considered complete if they are able to successfully investigate the mysterious sound and get rid of the threat.

“This feels spooky,” Junghwan whispers, inching closer to Seokjin. He nods his head, eyes flickering wearily at the treetops. A thick fog has settled around them, obscuring the path beyond what their torches can illuminate. Aside from their footsteps and the cackles of their burning flames, everything is so quiet.

Adnan and Tariq are in the lead, but a fork in the road has the group split. Some follow the leader down one path while the rest follow his brother. Seokjin pauses as he looks down the crossroads, not sure which way to take.

What would you do in this situation?

It’s funny how, even now, Seokjin is still thinking about you.

His friends stop as well. Nervously, Heeyeon asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Shh. Did you hear that?” Jaehwan whispers. Everyone falls quiet, barely breathing.

It’s then, they catch it. The sound of rustling.

Sunwoo is the first to jump into action. He draws his weapon, stepping closer to the source of the sound. Seokjin and Byulyi flank to his side, ready to assist, followed by Junghwan, Jaehwan, and Heeyeon. Seokjin unsheathes his sword as Sunwoo charges forward.

Caught in a small clearing is a group of three. One man and two women. Humans, at least at first glance. Seokjin would’ve thought they’re from another guild had he not seen the small, glowing light from the tips of their wands.

Mages.

The two groups point their weapons at each other, but no one makes the first strike. Sunwoo’s brows are furrowed as he demands, “Who are you?”

“We’re just trying to get away from it,” the man explains, urgency in his voice. “Let us pass and we won’t harm you.”

Byulyi frowns. “Get away from what?”

In the distance, Seokjin sees it.

Through the thick fog, a tall figure emerges. Its height reaches the tall tree tops, and its body is entirely made of roots and wood. It’s as if an old, rotting tree has come to life, but its shape has morphed into something humanoid. In its wooden face, glowing, yellow eyes stare back at them.

“Please, don’t hurt us,” a woman pleads, her lip quivering with fear. She looks like she’s been through hell. “Our friend got trapped in the Veil. We were trying to perform a ritual for her, but she didn’t wake up. We were just trying to summon her back, but something else came instead.”

The others look confused, but Seokjin knows exactly what’s going on. He’s seen this once before, when something Wicked possesses a mage’s body.

“Do you feel her?” Seokjin quickly asks the group. “Do you still feel your friend’s energy in that thing?”

“Barely,” she answers. The two beside her nod their heads.

“Then we’re not too late,” Seokjin sighs as he sheaths his sword. His friends look even more confused as he turns to them and explains, “That creature is a person. Human, like all of us.”

Their eyes dart to the mages, who stare at him with a stunned silence. Byulyi’s frown deepens. “But—”

“Human. We’re human. They’re human. That’s human,” Seokjin emphasizes, pointing at each of them, including the mages and the beast. He turns his attention to the mages again. “You guys are her friends, right? You have to keep talking to her, then. You have to help her remember who she is so she can snap out of it.”

A flicker of hope shines in one of the woman’s eyes. The other two aren’t quite as convinced. The man is the one who answers. “Don’t you think we’ve tried that?”

“If you care about your friend, you’ll try again.” Seokjin doesn’t waste any more time to persuade them. He gestures toward the creature, telling his teammates that they can weaken her a little and stop her from doing any more damage, but they can’t kill her.

As they reach the creature, she’s even bigger in person, more intimidating. Even the mages are trembling a little as they crane their necks up to see her. The creature sees the group approaching her, and when she moves, a terrible, haunting groan escapes from her. To Seokjin, it almost sounds like a cry for help.

Taking his advice, the mages call out to their friend, shouting her name, trying to comfort her, assuring that they can still feel her energy. And much to everyone’s surprise, it’s working. The creature leans down, body aching and cracking as she tries to level with her friends.

“S-Scared…”

That’s the only word she utters before a shriek of pain pierces in the air.

Adnan and Tariq have followed the sound of the groaning and see their comrades in the face of a terrifying creature. They unleash their attacks, raining fire upon her, even as Seokjin and the others scream at the brothers to stop.

“Good work, son,” Adnan tells him, clasping the former warden’s shoulder proudly. Seokjin feels the sting of frustration in his eyes. “We’ll take it from here.”

The creature in the woods is slain and the Wicked mages that summoned it have been arrested. Thanks to the Freelancers of New Haven, the village is at peace.

The nobleman pays the group handsomely for their efforts. The pouch of coins feels heavy in Seokjin’s hands. It’s enough for him to take a break, visit his hometown with you and the others, and still have more to spare toward the shop.

Seokjin doesn’t feel right when he’s handed his share by the grateful nobleman.

Although the mission is considered a success, Seokjin can’t help but think about the mages and the monster in the woods, about Adriel from Blackstone Castle and his similar fate. He can’t help but envision you, Hoseok, or Namjoon as the creature instead and witnessing your ends before he could stop it.

“I’m sorry about your friend,” Seokjin says to the mages, speaking quietly as the others around him celebrate their victory. The mages are held together, wrists bound with nullifying ties that prevent them from using their magic.

Their fates are undetermined. But with the way things are in this world, injustice will be their demise.

He doesn’t expect the mages to forgive him. He doesn’t even expect them to accept his apology. Yet, one of the female mages looks at him with kind eyes.

“How did you know… about her? That there’s a way for mages to regain their humanity after they turn Wicked?”

Seokjin isn’t sure how to answer. He’s seen the head enchanter of Blackstone call out to his apprentice. He’s seen Adriel come back to his senses when his friend, Jackson, broke through to him. And although he didn’t completely transform, Taehyung is living proof that it’s possible to become human again.

“I’ve come to realize you mages aren’t all that bad,” he decides. It’s a long story to explain otherwise.

“Because you know one?”

Seokjin stares at her with surprise. “I-I don’t—”

“It’s okay. Your secret is safe with me,” she says with a knowing smile. She glances at the charmed bracelet around his wrist. The one that Hoseok and Taehyung made for him before he left on his mission. The one that you had enchanted to keep him safe while he’s gone. “Whoever you know must care about you a lot. Those are some strong protection spells.”

“Yeah…” Seokjin trails off as he looks down at it. Everyone at the shop made sure he was well-protected and taken care of before he left. It makes him miss you all more.

And it makes him feel even more guilty about how things transpired.

The mission is completed and Seokjin has been paid, but he knows that deep down, he’s failed.

“Have you gone mad?” Adnan remarks as he stares at his younger brother in disbelief.

“Either this, or they be sent to the gallows,” Tariq reasons, and before his brother could reply, he adds, “It will be a waste of their talent if they’re just hung to death or sent to a fortress to rot.”

Another argument is brewing between the two brothers, but this one has everyone split. Before the guild could leave the village to return home, Tariq proposes to bring the captured mages with them. To atone for their sins, he suggests that they work for the guild instead.

“No way. The Devoted leaders will have our heads if we allow such a thing,” Adnan reminds him as a murmur of agreement comes from the crowd. Working with a mage is bound to be trouble. It goes against the teachings of the Devoted.

Tariq rolls his eyes. “The Devoted leaders can kiss my ass. Those pompous prudes have their heads so far up their own asses, they—”

“Brother!” Adnan snaps, interrupting him. “We are not taking the mages with us! What if one of them turns into another one of those creatures? Or something even worse? We’ll be endangering the town. We’ll be tarnishing the reputation our family has built for the Freelancers.”

“Fine. Then I quit the Freelancers.”

With the tension rising between the two brothers, it shouldn’t have been surprising. Yet, Seokjin is still stunned to see the guild fall apart before his eyes as they speak.

“Brother, where are your senses?” Adnan asks, exasperated. It seems like this isn’t the first time his brother has threatened to leave the guild. But it’s the first time Tariq seems to mean it.

“You do things your way, and I’ll do things my way,” he concludes as he turns to the quiet guild. “I’m making a new guild – The New Order. Anyone who has what it takes to join my side is more than welcomed to.”

Those in favor of Tariq, who’s morals seem to align with his questionable practices, immediately get up to follow him. Some are a bit more hesitant, standing with Tariq out of fear that he’ll attack the remaining Freelancers than anything else.

Unexpectedly, however, Seokjin begins to stand up as well.

His friends look at him with shock. Jaehwan asks, “What are you doing?”

Truthfully, Seokjin doesn’t know. Before New Haven, he was part of an order that is similar to what Adnan envisions for the Freelancers: knights of the Devoted protecting the town from magic and all things evil. Clearly, that didn’t work out for him. Seokjin can’t be in a guild that hunts mages for profit.

Seokjin looks at his friends with a half-hearted smile. “Hopefully, the right thing.”

Somehow, the journey going back home feels longer than having to leave. Without Adnan keeping things in order, Tariq and his men are like a crew of pillaging pirates. They spend their new earnings sleeping with women, drinking at pubs, intimidating the villagers with violence, and finding ways to make quick coin through threats and theft.

Seokjin doesn’t want any part of it.

Someone pushes him a pint of cold ale. Tariq grins at him from across the table. “It’s on me, kid. Live a little.”

“Thanks,” Seokjin mutters, taking a sip. It gives him something to do than just sitting there, ignoring the sultry women around him who are batting their eyelashes and giggling to get his attention. It’s times like this where he really wishes you were with him instead.

Tariq sees the way Seokjin is visibly uncomfortable with the women around him. “You have a wife or something?”

“Yes,” Seokjin answers. Technically, you’re not married to him. But you’re still his.

“You heard the man. Go find someone else,” he orders the women. They sigh in defeat, but leave him alone.

“Thanks,” Seokjin tells him, more sincerely.

“I’m surprised you didn’t go with my brother,” Tariq continues, trying to make small talk. “You seem the type to follow him. Well-mannered, honest, a good person. Loyal to your wife, too. People like that love to kiss the ground he walks on.”

“I have my reasons,” Seokjin says vaguely.

“We’ll have plenty more missions like this one in our future,” Tariq assures him. There’s a twinkle in his eyes that makes Seokjin mildly uncomfortable. “That thing in the woods was a mage too, right? Imagine having a monster like that on your side of the battlefield. We’d be unstoppable.”

Seokjin frowns. “Sir, what exactly are you going to do with the mages?”

Tariq doesn’t answer him. He just laughs heartily and tells him, “Just drink up, kid. You deserve it.”

Before he left, Seokjin made you a promise. That as soon as his mission is over, he’ll run straight home to you.

When he was still in town, he’d usually return to the shop by sunset. Yellows, oranges, and pinks would color the sky in a beautiful twilight, basking the town with a golden glow as he makes his way back to you. Every afternoon, you’d be the first to welcome him back, stepping out of the shop to meet him outside. All the anxiousness and worry melt away the moment your eyes lock with his and you see him running toward you.

Sometimes, he’d throw his pack aside and pull you into a tight hug. Sometimes, you’d trip over your feet to reach him first. Despite how hard the day is, no matter how tired and sweaty he is, or how busy you’ve been, nothing else matters as you both end up in each other’s arms.

You have no idea when Seokjin is coming back this time.

But every afternoon, you still come out of the shop to welcome him home.

Most of the time, one of the other boys keeps you company while you’re waiting. Other times, you keep yourself busy by sweeping the steps, watering the flowers, or hanging up laundry to air-dry. But lately, you’ve just been sitting on the steps of the shop and watching the sunset, wishing that Seokjin was there to share this moment with you.

“Do you think he’ll come back today?” Jungkook asks, sitting next to you on the steps. Even though there’s plenty of space around you, he’s huddled close to your side.

You smile a bit and lean on his shoulder. “I don’t know. I hope so.”

Jungkook hums, shifting around and pulling you closer to him so that you’re both comfortable. Out of all the boys, it’s Jungkook that comes out and waits with you the most. He helps you with the chores, he sings and shares a drink with you, he fits you between his legs and in his arms as the sun disappears and the air gets colder. You know part of it is because he’s adamant about spending more time with you, but you also know it’s because he misses Seokjin too.

All of you do.

Everyone has felt his absence since Seokjin has been away. It’s hard to walk past his room in the hallway and know that it’s empty. Or to eat dinner together and see the vacant spot at the table where he sits. You miss his silliness, his dramatic antics, the sound of his laughter, the sweetness of his smile seconds before he does something completely unhinged.

The sun dips lower and lower, and night begins to color the skies in dark blues and purples. More of the boys come out for a bit, and Jimin crosses over to say hello. The conversations between you and the boys drift from one topic to another, until Hoseok invites Jimin to eat dinner at the shop. The moon and stars appear in the sky, and one by one, the boys begin to head back inside.

Until it’s just you and Jungkook again.

“Come on, you two. It’s getting cold,” Namjoon says, opening the door to the shop. The light and warmth from inside feel welcoming compared to the chilly air around you.

“Maybe he’ll be home tomorrow?” Jungkook suggests, helping you to your feet.

“Maybe,” you reply, a bit sullen. You try not to look too disappointed as Jungkook wraps his arm around you and starts to lead you inside.

Just as you’re about to cross the threshold, you hear the sound of footsteps running toward you guys. The three of you look at the source of the sound and your eyes widen as you feel Jungkook’s arm suddenly slip off you. He sounds a bit choked up as he utters, “Jin-hyung?”

Hoseok passes by at that moment, most-likely to check on you and Jungkook as well. His eyes widen at what he hears. “Jin’s here? He’s home?”

Inside, there’s a commotion of chaos as the others stop what they’re doing and rush to the door. And sure enough, after some time apart, Seokjin is finally standing before you. The cold air makes his breath visible and his face is a bit flushed from running.

He looks exhausted and travel-worn, but he’s as handsome as ever. “I’m ba–”

You don’t give him a chance to finish his sentence as you throw yourself at him, so happy and relieved that you’re nearly in tears. The others follow after you, greeting him with long hugs and affectionate squeezes. Seokjin keeps you close to him, one arm around you as he uses his free hand to return their greetings. As the excitement starts to spill back inside, Seokjin finally turns his attention back to you.

“I missed you,” you tell him, gently caressing his handsome face.

“Not as much as I missed you,” he replies, and he kisses you like he’s been waiting forever to have you in his arms again.

Tonight, the shop is the liveliest it’s been in a while.

Hoseok serves his best brews, and it isn’t long until the table is surrounded by flushed, giddy faces. The food Yoongi has made is extra delicious, and he smiles shyly but proudly when he receives compliments for his work. There’s loud chatter and laughter, and having the eight of you all together again fills you with a warm feeling that can’t be anything else but love.

Tonight, Namjoon keeps the shop closed. The curtains are drawn, the doors are locked, and a sign on the window reads that it isn’t open. Regulars frown and try to peer inside, wondering what’s happened. And perhaps, through the disguising glamor of a quiet and empty building, they’d see all of you have moved to the parlor.

“Tell us about your mission, hyung,” Jungkook asks, eyes wide with excitement.

“I’d rather talk about what you guys have been up to,” Seokjin replies, shaking his head slightly. “I’m sure you guys will hear more about it in the morning anyway.”

“That bad, huh?” Jimin asks with an arched eyebrow.

Seokjin grimaces as he takes a swig of his drink. The heat of the alcohol burns his throat as he swallows. “To put it lightly, I think the Freelancers are done.”

You all look at him in shock. “Really? What happened?”

“Decisions were made, and the guild split up,” Seokjin vaguely explains, though it only makes you all even more curious. “The good news is that I’m technically on a vacation now. I think I know how I want to spend it, too.”

Tonight, Seokjin unpacks from his long mission and begins to sort through the things he wants to take back to his hometown. As he tries to remember the things his parents and brother like, he hears a knock on the door.

He doesn’t need to turn around to know that it’s you.

“It’s nice to pass by and see that you’re here,” you tell him quietly as you step inside. The room is as pretty as he is, iridescently white walls and floorings that match the soft pastel furniture. Tables made of glass and light fixtures made of crystal. The room hasn’t changed since he’s been away, but you see small souvenirs of his travels on a shelf. Subtle things like the alpaca doll Namjoon snuck into his pack, a super tuna charm made of wood, toadstool mushrooms in a jar. “I’m sorry about the Freelancers. I know the guild was really important to you.”

“I’ll survive,” he says, coming to wrap his arms around you. He places a kiss on the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent as he holds you close. “I thought about you all the time.”

“Yeah? In what way?” you ask cheekily, and Seokjin laughs as you turn to face him.

Tonight, Seokjin shows you exactly, making up for lost time. You shudder as his soft, plush lips worships your body, how his large hands feel against your heated skin. Your soft moans and sighs only encourage him as you guide his hand down between your legs, whispering against his lips for him to touch you. Moonlight bathes upon your skin as he hovers over you, watching your reaction as his fingers slip inside you. There’s something addicting to the way pleasure is shown on your face, how warm and wet you are just with his fingers pumping in and out of you. How incredibly good you feel when he replaces his fingers with his cock.

He feels your nails scratching his back as his steady pace quickens, his thrusts become a bit harsher, and he adjusts your legs over his shoulders so he could go deeper. Your little mewls and whimpers become progressively louder as you arch your back and clench around him. And Seokjin moans loudly when he nearly climaxes when you do,

You feel him pull out of you, and his fingers easily slide into you again. You twitch a little and whine out his name, a bit sensitive. But Seokjin smiles warmly and kisses you. “One more, beautiful. Can you do that for me?”

Tomorrow, all hell will break loose once word goes out about the Freelancers. But tonight, Seokjin puts that behind him. Tonight, he puts his attention all on you.

Word about the demise of the Freelancers spreads around town like a wildfire.

Two brothers, who once stood together in the face of danger, are now enemies in a competitive race to gain more influence and success to be the bigger, better guild. Many are loyal to the mission of the reformed Freelancers, and all the hard work Adnan has done to keep his family’s legacy. But there are just as many people who are equally willing to throw away their values and morals to join Tariq’s side, the admired and well-respected war hero of New Haven.

And Seokjin, like many others in the guild, is caught between the crossfires.

“Stay inside today,” Seokjin tells you and the others after explaining the details of his mission. Things he couldn’t say in front of Jimin without exposing any of them, He sees the expression on each of your faces when he described the creature, the mages in the woods, and how Tariq wants to bring them into his guild. He sees the sadness, anger, and weariness in each of you, and how the same thought crosses all your minds: that what had happened to those mages could’ve easily happened to you.

“Especially you, Taehyung,” Hoseok adds seriously, meeting his gaze.

No one knows how the town will react to the news, but the raven familiar has already dealt with angry mobs and burning stakes a lifetime ago. He shouldn’t have to witness history repeating itself with another mage.

“I’ll be fine,” he replies, but holds you a little tighter to him, afraid to let you go. Seokjin sees your subtle nod when Namjoon mouths for you to stay with Taehyung.

A heavy weight fills Seokjin’s heart as he imagines the awful things that would be said about the captured mages. And how those words, in turn, would hurt any of you.

“We’ll be careful, Jin. Don’t worry about us,” Hoseok assures him with a tiny shrug. “It’s nothing we haven’t heard before. The wardens at Blackstone used to say a lot worse.”

“The wardens used to do a lot worse,” you add on quietly, looking at Seokjin. He visibly stiffens as he remembers those men harassing you at the castle, of the reasons Adriel became Wicked in the first place. It makes him worry that those captured mages could be going through something equally worse by the hands of Tariq and his men.

“What’s going to happen to those mages?” Yoongi asks with a frown.

“That’s what I’m going to find out.”

As much as he wants to take you all away to his hometown where it’s safe and away from this mess, he can’t, without good conscience, just skip town when people are in trouble. When he is the only one who understands their situation better than anyone.

“I love you. Be safe,” you tell him before he goes, caressing his face. He kisses you deeply and promises that he’ll come back to you.

Seokjin isn’t sure what he’s expecting when he heads out, but he knows it’s going to be a mess. Jimin catches his eye from across the street. His face is unreadable as he informs him, “There’s something going on at the town square.”

“Yeah, I told them to lay low and keep the shop closed,” Seokjin briskly explains as he makes his way to the square. Jimin follows after him, only a couple steps behind. “Things are going to be pretty rowdy today.”

“Is it true what Tariq has done? He brought mages into New Haven?”

Seokjin stops so abruptly that Jimin runs into him. He turns to face the florist, trying to keep his expression neutral. “Is that a problem?”

For a very brief second, Jimin looks conflicted. But he says, “No. It isn’t.”

Two mortals stare at each other, once on the same ground when Seokjin was still a warden, and now, assumingly, on opposite sides. Raised Devoted, Seokjin has been warned all his life about the evils of magic and mages, but it isn’t until he met you that his heart has changed. That magic could be beautiful and mages can be kind. But Jimin doesn’t know your secrets or the shop’s affinity with the unnatural. If he did, would he still oppose you all? Or would he stand together with Seokjin again?

“Seokjin? You’re here?”

Both of them turn and, to his surprise, Jaehwan is there. Seokjin hasn’t seen his friends since the guild had split up with the others choosing to follow Adnan. He offers a small smile, but it quickly fades when he sees the concerned look on Jaehwan’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“You better come to the town square. It’s getting bad.”

The last time the town square was this crowded, there was a fair for the guilds to bring in new recruits. People far and wide came to New Haven with the promise of new adventures, meeting new comrades, honing their skills, and opportunities for wealth. The eagerness and excitement from that day is still fresh in Seokjin’s mind.

Riots fill the streets. Opposing sides are brawling against each other and damaging property. Some are trying to contain the crowd, but their demands fall on deaf ears as arguments continue to escalate. A mob of people form around the stage where Tariq and the mages are. Vile things are shouted to their faces. Garbage and food are thrown at them. Even from his distance, Seokjin can see the mages are still cuffed with bonds that suppress their magic, terrified and defenseless.

“What’s happened here?” Seokjin asks when he, Jimin, and Jaehwan join the rest of Team Seokjin. They looked relieved to see him, happy that the team is reunited again, though they clearly wish it was under better circumstances.

“Tariq is holding a demonstration,” Byulyi informs stiffly.

Seokjin’s eyebrows furrow together. “A what?”

“Fear not, friends. The New Order – our new guild – will have everything under control,” Tariq assures the crowd, as if the hatred isn’t directed at them. “Soon, we won’t have to look at these mages as enemies, but as allies. I’ve seen with my own eyes what they can become once they unlock their full potential. Together, with the mages, The New Order will be an unstoppable force.”

“He’s truly gone mad,” Jaehwan murmurs with a frown. Even Jimin stiffens slightly at what Tariq is implying.

The younger brother suddenly grabs the male mage and drags him away from the others. He seems to be commanding him to do something, and the male shakes his head and trembles. At his refusal, Tariq extends his hand toward one of his lackeys, who gives him a cat o’ nine tails whip.

The first strike has the entire crowd silenced. Heeyeon gasps and covers her mouth, eyes wide. Junghwan’s jaw falls open. Byulyi and Sunwoo avert their gaze immediately once they realize what’s happening. The others are stunned in a mix of shock and horror.

The second strike, Seokjin doesn’t even think. He doesn’t realize he’s making his way toward the crowd to stop them until he feels his friends pull him back.

But it’s after the third strike when the male mage finally gives in. On a clear, cloudless day in New Haven, the weather changes. Snow begins to fall from the sky.

Seokjin is taken back to that day in the library of Blackstone Castle, where you showed him the beauty of your magic for the first time. How you remembered that he liked the snow, but hated the cold, and made a winter wonderland for him.

This time, as Seokjin sees the snow fall, he feels sick to his stomach.

Tariq has proven his point. The mages, through methods of torture and pain, are under his command. One hint of disobedience, and he’ll be sure to break them physically and mentally. The public flogging is only a small taste of the lengths Tariq would do, and if they are successful, they’ll recruit more mages. Under the guise of equality and freedom, the mages who join would be doomed to a fate worse than imprisonment in their heavily-guarded fortresses.

When Seokjin became a warden, he was taught that he needed to protect people from the mages. Over time, he’s learned that it’s the other way around. In many cases, it’s the mages that need protecting.

“You’re not going to work for that guy, are you?” Junghwan asks him as the crowd around them begin to disperse.

“Even though they’re mages, that’s still too cruel,” Sunwoo quietly agrees with a frown. It seems like the others share the same sentiment. Many mages get locked away as soon as they awaken their powers, so it wouldn’t surprise Seokjin if his friends have never seen a mage until now.

“I’m not going to work for him. But I can’t let him keep hurting those mages,” Seokjin decides as his gaze turns to Jimin. The florist has been awfully quiet.

Jimin meets his gaze, but his expression is unreadable. Then, quietly, he asks, “Why do you care so much about them? You’re only human.”

“I care because I’m human. Whatever your stance with magic is, I don’t care, but this isn’t right. Mages are humans like us. They bleed the same as we do. They feel the same emotions: fear, anger, joy, sadness, love.” Seokjin holds himself back, almost slipping that Jimin, of all people, would know this as much as he does. He looks at his other friends and tells them, “I understand if you guys see me differently because of this. I didn’t join Tariq because I agreed with his methods, but he was the only one in town that had me believe he’d give everyone a fair chance.”

But he was clearly wrong. Tariq treats the mages worse than animals. He doesn’t need to point it out for them to know that.

There’s a short silence that falls between them. Even Jimin frowns in silence as he thinks about what Seokjin said.

Then, Junghwan looks around and asks, “So, what’s our plan?”

Seokjin blinks at him. “What do you mean?”

Byulyi smiles. “Well, we can’t be Team Seokjin without you, right?”

Unfortunately, it’s impossible for Seokjin’s plan to happen overnight.

First, he’d have to find out where Tariq keeps the mages. Even on their journey back to New Haven, he has them tightly secured and under his control. On the rare occasions Seokjin even saw them, they were never without Tariq or any of his trusted men.

Taehyung perches on Seokjin’s shoulder when he attends the first guild meeting of the New Order. Tariq rambles on about his vision of the future: conquering quests and vanquishing foes with magic, expanding overseas, having a powerful army under his command. When the meeting is finally adjourned, the raven follows the leader of the New Order.

It isn’t until later that evening when Taehyung returns and informs, “He keeps them in a cellar. There’s a key to it around his neck.”

“That’s going to be hard to get,” Hoseok points out with a frown.

“What are things that Tariq likes?” Namjoon asks Seokjin.

“Fighting, coins, beer, women,” Seokjin lists, then pauses. Several gazes drift to you.

“No fucking way,” Yoongi hisses, standing in front of you. “We’re not going to use her to be objectified by those people.”

“It’s fine, Yoongi. I want to help,” you assure him, gently rubbing his back. You can tell the others are uncomfortable with the idea as well. “I just have to talk to the guy until someone gets the key, right?”

“Flirting would help,” Namjoon adds, a bit regretful for even bringing it up with the way his jaw clenches at the idea. He glances at your breasts and mutters, “Showing some cleavage too.”

“Namjoon!” Hoseok snaps.

“It’s a suggestion!” he shouts, throwing his hands up in defense. “Her body is nice! I really like it!”

“You don’t have to do this, angel. I’m planning on asking Byulyi and Heeyeon to help too,” Seokjin reminds you, taking our hand in his.

“I can take care of myself,” you assure him, squeezing his hand. More quietly, you ask, “You’ll watch over me, right?”

Just as softly, he promises, “I always do.”

“Good.” You lean back with a smile. “Because if this Tariq guy tries anything, you might have to hold me back from taking him down.”

Seokjin laughs and kisses your hand. “I would love to see it.”

Then, he’d need to figure out how to break them free without anyone noticing. With all of New Haven knowing that there are mages in the town, it feels like everyone is high on alert. Keeping them in the shop is out of the question. Seokjin doesn’t want to risk anyone recognizing them and putting you and the others in danger.

“My uncle might be able to get them out of town,” Jaehwan tells him when Team Seokjin reunites after the demonstration. “He travels pretty often, so he rarely keeps up with news about the town and the guilds. If we can pitch in some coins, I’m sure he won’t mind dropping them off on his next trip.”

“I know a lady who might be able to take them in for a few days,” Byulyi quietly brings up with a sad smile. “Her daughter had an awakening. She couldn’t do anything to stop the wardens from separating them, but she’s helped a couple mages since then.”

Seokjin nods, feeling a bit hopeful. Maybe this can all work out after all.

As they pass through the marketplace, someone catches Sunwoo’s attention. He nudges Junghwan, who looks over. “Whoa, who’s that?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve seen her around town before,” Sunwoo says, eyes glued to someone in the crowd. “Do you reckon she’s new?”

Seokjin doesn’t know who they’re talking about, but as he looks up, his heart flutters at who he does see.

You.

Unexpectedly, you’re by the fruit stand, carefully examining apples before placing them into your basket with some eggs and flour. At your ankles is Yoongi in his cat form, seemingly having a staring contest with a toddler who keeps trying to pull away from her mother to pet him.

Like a moth to flame, and much to his friends’ surprise, Seokjin walks straight toward you. “Hey, sweetheart, what are you doing here?”

“Oh, Jin! Hello.” You smile happily when you see him, equally surprised to be running into him at this time. “I’m thinking of baking apple pastries for the boys. Want to help me make them?”

“I’m busy right now,” he tells you, and it’s then that you notice that he’s with company. “But if you haven’t started when I get home, I’ll help.”

“Okay.” You wave hello to the group that are just staring at you two. A mix of shy smiles and knowing smirks are on their faces as they wave back.

“Ah, I should introduce you,” Seokjin scolds himself as he places his hand on the small of your back and faces his friends. He tells you each of their names. “Guys, this is—”

“Your wife?” Jaehwan finishes.

“Wife?” you repeat as Seokjin’s eyes widen.

“Ah. The neck-biter.” Heeyeon states with a glint in her eyes. Seokjin’s entire face feels incredibly hot as you look at him, thoroughly confused.

“Jin, what are they talking ab—”

“Honey, I don’t think you have enough ingredients in your basket. Why don’t you buy more apples?” he interrupts, giving you his entire pocket money. Even in his cat form, he could swear he saw Yoongi rolling his eyes.

You blink in surprise, but laugh in disbelief. “Sure. I’ll see you at home, husband.”

If Seokjin was a mage, he’d probably have the ground swallow him whole right then and there. There’s still a curious look on your face as you kiss him briefly and wave goodbye to his friends. But for now, you don’t question it. Instead, you pick up Yoongi and turn your attention back to the elderly woman selling apples.

Byulyi throws him a knowing smile. “So, that’s her huh?”

“Yeah, that’s her,” Seokjin confirms bashfully, rubbing his neck.

“No wonder he always wants to go home after missions,” Junghwan comments. “I would too if my wife was that pretty.”

It will also take time for Seokjin to get into Tariq’s good graces, have him trust him enough not to warrant any suspicions. Without a team, it’s harder to do these difficult missions alone. It also doesn’t feel good biding his time while he knows that mages are suffering the longer he stalls.

“Here.”

“What’s this?” Seokjin asks, taking the map from Jimin. It’s of New Haven, but there are certain areas that are marked and circled.

“Those are the coordinates of hunter territories,” Jimin carefully explains as Seokjin’s eyes widen. “If you’re going to sneak those mages out, you need to avoid those areas. Especially during the witching hour.”

“How did you find this?” he asks, a bit baffled. He hadn’t even considered hunters would be patrolling around as well. “Did you steal it from a hunter?”

Jimin merely shrugs. “I want to help too.”

“Thank you! This is really helpful!” Seokjin praises as he continues to look it over. He notices that each hunter has initials, and frowns when he sees just how many there are in New Haven now. Ever since Blackstone Castle’s fall, it seems more of them have moved into town.

His eyes linger to where the shop is and notices that there’s a designated hunter marked there too. At least, there was. Black ink crosses out the initials, but if Seokjin were to hold the map up under a certain light, he might be able to read it.

J.M.

But finally, things are starting to fall into place. They only have one shot to get this right, and failure is not an option.

Everything goes according to plan.

After a successful quest, the New Order has taken over the shop’s tavern. A feast fit for kings is being served to them, as well as endless rounds of ale and lager. Music plays a lively tune in the background of the boisterous laughter and noisy chatter. The shop’s residents are all in position: Namjoon behind the counter, Yoongi cooking in the kitchen, Hoseok tending the bar, Taehyung in charge of entertainment and setting the mood, Jungkook standing guard and forcibly escorting people out when they’ve have too much. And then, there’s you.

You’re doing your usual tasks as well: cleaning tables, serving food and drinks, collecting coins after meals, and chatting up customers. Tonight, you pay extra attention to the leader of the New Order, smiling sweetly and fluttering your eyelashes when he speaks. You indulge in his stories of his latest conquests, fascinated with how the war-time hero managed to save his men from perilous dangers, and fake-laugh your way through his flirtatious advances. Sometimes, you’d follow Namjoon’s advice and subtly push out your chest or sway your hips when he has his eye on you.

And it’s working. Perhaps, a little too well.

You have Tariq’s full attention. But Seokjin can’t stop staring at you either.

When you pass by, Seokjin waves you over. When you’re close enough, he motions you down and asks against your ear, “How’s it going?”

“Hard,” you admit, keeping your voice low as if you’re afraid one of the patrons would eavesdrop in the conversation. “I feel so awkward.”

Seokjin pulls back and looks around the tavern. Most of Tariq’s crew are starting to pass out from gluttony. The delicious food and alcohol that keep coming from the kitchen and bar make it too easy to overindulge. One bite sends tastebuds to euphoria; one sip has them craving for more. Listening carefully, it isn’t just the music that’s playing on a loop, but so is the sound of their laughter and chatter, making it hard to tell that one by one, Tariq’s men are starting to surrender to their slumber.

Part of it could be from eating and drinking too much. But more-likely, it’s from the sleep powder Yoongi and Hoseok have slowly been slipping into their food and drinks. With bellies full and their thirst quenched, they won’t remember anything when they wake: not the shop, not any of your faces, and not what will transpire tonight.

Tariq, none the wiser, sits in the middle of the tavern. He doesn’t notice that his men are slowly disappearing, being escorted by Namjoon and Jungkook into a mysterious door at the entrance of the shop. He doesn’t notice how one chef and one bartender could produce such a quantity of excellent foods and drinks within seconds, or that they’ve been tampered with. He doesn’t notice the seamlessly endless loop of music, ambiguous chatter, clinks of utensils, and faint laughter around him as Taehyung steps away from the parlor to assist you.

All Tariq can focus on is you. He can’t take his eyes off you. The glamor spell you put on yourself makes it hard for him to look away.

“Could’ve fooled me. You’re a natural,” Seokjin replies, turning his gaze back to you. Then, more seriously, he reminds you, “If you start to feel uncomfortable, we can call it off and go with another plan.”

“I’m okay because you’re here,” you tell him honestly. You trust Seokjin more than anyone, and he feels his heart race at your words as you smile at him softly. So sweet and innocent. Then, you lean toward his ear again and confess, “Besides, I pretend that it’s you I’m trying to seduce.”

His eyes widen, frozen from shock, as you casually pull away and return to your duties. He feels his entire face flush red as you look over your shoulder and smirk at him.

Perhaps, you’re having more fun with this than he initially thought.

The little exchange between you two doesn’t go unnoticed. Tariq suddenly waves for him to sit at his table. The key to the cellar hangs around his neck. Seokjin sees it as he slips into the seat in front of him.

“She’s a pretty little thing, isn’t she?” Tariq inquires, gesturing at you with a nod of his head. “I saw you eyeing her all evening.”

“She’s beautiful,” Seokjin replies sincerely. With or without the glamor, Seokjin always thought you were attractive. He sees you working hard for the remaining guests, asking Taehyung to clear out a couple tables while a group calls you for more drinks.

“You like her, huh? Don’t worry. I won’t tell your wife,” Tariq jokes with a sly smile. A rush of heat colors Seokjin’s face red. He’s forgotten how everyone in the Freelancers, including Tariq and his friends, think he’s a married man. “I think she might have a sweet spot for me. I told her I’m going to change the world by bringing mages into the guilds. She asked me how that’s possible, and you know what I said?”

“What?”

“Control,” he casually answers with a sadistic glint in his eye. “You have to put them under your thumb. Let them know their place. These mages are vicious forces, and they have the power over all things natural and unnatural. Humans like us have to show them who is in command.”

“Or you could respect them,” Seokjin counters with a frown. “Mages are humans too.”

As a former warden, Seokjin has seen the abuse of power over mages first-hand. How worthless their lives are to the Devoted, who weed them out through Harrowings and false claims of corruption. Eventually, the mages will fight back. Like Adriel. Like the forest mage. And, inevitably, like you.

Tariq scoffs and waves you over. “Funny. She said the same thing.”

“Hello, sir. What can I get for you?” you direct your question to Tariq, but your eyes flicker briefly to Seokjin. The two of you are pretending not to know each other – the less Tariq and his men know about his personal connections to the shop, the better – but Seokjin can tell that you’re a little nervous.

“I just wanted to let you know that my buddy thinks you’re very beautiful,” Tariq tells you, trying to tease Seokjin.

You turn to him with a knowing smile. “Does he?”

“I do,” he replies, honest. Without thinking, his hand reaches out from under the table to touch the back of your leg. You nearly jump from contact, throwing him a bewildered look, but Seokjin remains cool, calm, and collected. There’s a small, smug smirk on his lips. Payback for what you told him earlier.

“I think he’s very handsome too,” you say, a bit flustered. It’s cute that you’re trying not to let him affect you. But he can feel the way your body tenses beneath his fingertips, how forced your smile is as you look at him nervously because Tariq is right there.

Seokjin doesn’t know what’s gotten into him. When he reached out, he meant to just comfort you, let you know that he’s there if you need him. Maybe it’s because you’re flirting with another man. Maybe it’s the way Tariq is looking at you. But the way Seokjin’s fingers tease up the hem of your dress becomes a bit possessive. A subtle reminder that, at the end of the day, you’re still his.

“Two ales for me and the kid, pretty thing,” Tariq finally orders, unaware of what’s going on with you two.

“I’ll be right back with your drinks,” you tell him with a pleasant smile, and nudge Seokjin’s hand away. As you turn to leave, you shoot him a look. And Seokjin has the audacity to wink back at you.

“I think she might have a sweet spot for you too,” Tariq comments as he watches you leave. His gaze lingers a little too long for Seokjin’s liking. “How was your mission?”

“It went well. As expected,” Seokjin lies with ease. Before coming to the shop, he was personally tasked to take care of some goons Tariq had a hit on. People he suspects are conspiring against him. Little does he know, Seokjin plans to do the same.

You give Hoseok the order, both of you eyeing the table where Tariq and Seokjin are. When Seokjin gives the signal – a very slight nod of his head – Hoseok grabs two clean glasses and fills them with ale.

“I knew I could count on you,” Tariq continues with a proud smile. Instead of killing them off, Seokjin had warned them of Tariq’s intentions and told them to skip town for a while. “I think you have the potential of being a great guild leader one of these days.”

“You think so?”

Seokjin watches as Hoseok sprinkles a light-blue powder in one of the drinks and mixes it in. A faint smoke emerges from it, indicating that it’s been tampered with.

“I see a lot of myself in you, kid. You’re driven, strong, and with a good head. You’re not influenced by the bullshit ideals that my brother and most of the town believes.” He pauses as he looks at Seokjin curiously. “Are you Devoted?”

“I was raised to be, but my beliefs don’t align with the teachings anymore.”

Before he hands the drinks to you, Hoseok tells you which one is which. You nod your head, making sure you don’t mix them up as you start to walk toward their table.

“Good. Same as me,” Tariq agrees with an approving nod. “The Devoted like to think their war against the mages is a noble cause, but at the end of the day, war is nothing but death and destruction. It doesn’t matter if the enemies you’re against are magical or not. I hope your family doesn’t give you a hard time about it like mine does.”

“Here you go. Two ales,” you announce as you place the cold drinks in front of them. “Is there anything else I can get for you?”

“I think we’re good for now,” Seokjin answers, looking at you with a softer expression. The hardest part is almost over. It’ll be easy to snatch the key around his neck once the potion hits. “Thank you.”

“This is an interesting place you found here, kid,” Tariq tells him, looking around the shop. Something about this place feels so whimsical and enchanting. “I know New Haven like the back of my head, but I’ve never been here before. It’s almost magical.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Seokjin chuckles and raises his glass to Tariq. “To the New Order and to you, Tariq.”

“To the New Order.”

Clink.

Their glasses touch and they take a drink. For a moment, the loop of music and background ambiance stops. It’s quiet, and the shop’s residents watch as the golden liquid slides down Tariq’s throat. He finishes the last drop, and once he sets down the glass, everything resumes as normal. The lively tune plays on, and all of you are back to work and taking care of the remaining customers.

Everything is going exactly as planned.

Until it doesn’t.

“You’re really working that thing, aren’t you?”

Nearby, a group of drunk men have turned their attention to you. Seokjin sees their hungry stares before you meet their gaze. The way their eyes trail up and down your body, lingering blatantly on your ass and tits. He sees their smirks and hears their snickers as another man faces you and pats his leg. “Yeah, why don’t you take a break and sit with us, sweet thing?”

Seokjin feels his whole body tense up, ready to step in and snap at them to leave you alone. Tariq watches as well, more humored than angry, as his men drunkenly cat-call you and make lewd remarks.

“No, no. I’m quite busy,” you tell them firmly. Your eyes lock with Seokjin as well, a wordless assurance that you can handle yourself.

In situations like this, Namjoon would take over certain tables when they become too rowdy. He’d be the one who’d calmly but sternly have them wrap things up before they cause a scene. Before things escalate.

“Don’t be like that, baby. Come on. Give us a smile. We’re just trying to be nice.”

But Namjoon, nor any of the other boys, have realized what’s happening yet.

The men chuckle darkly, and the way that they continue to undress you with their eyes makes Seokjin’s blood boil. It’s subtle, but the lights around the shop flicker briefly, as if a breeze has just passed through. As if the shop senses your uneasiness.

“I think you’ve all had enough to drink,” you start, glaring at the men before you.

“For a pretty girl, you sure are a bitch with a smart mouth,” one guy remarks as he suddenly grabs your arm. “Instead of talking back, why don’t I show you what else your mouth can—”

Ice-cold water from a canister is unceremoniously dumped on his head. The man instantly lets you go, and Taehyung pulls you close to him. Soaking wet, the man turns to the raven familiar and the empty canister in his hand.

With a blank face, Taehyung casually tells him, “It looks like you need to cool off.”

“Asshole!” the man snaps, getting into Taehyung’s face. A plate shatters to the ground, causing the remaining patrons – and the other residents of the shop – to stop what they’re doing and see what’s going on.

Taehyung remains unfazed by his aggression, but moves you behind him.

Before Seokjin realizes what he’s doing, he suddenly stands up and makes his way toward you two before the others do. He pushes the man away from Taehyung.

“Back off. Don’t you dare touch them.”

“Didn’t you see what this fucker did? If this little slut—”

The man yelps in pain when Seokjin suddenly grabs the front of his shirt and shoves him hard against the table. Plates and utensils clatter, and drinks spill over. Tension rises as the friends he was eating with stand up as well.

“I’m only going to warn you one more time,” Seokjin informs, his voice low and with an anger you’ve rarely seen in him. “Leave my friends alone, or I won’t hesitate to run a sword through you.”

Stubbornly, the man grits his teeth and clenches his hand into a fist. “Who the fuck do you think you are, huh?”

“Guys, that’s enough. Apologize to the pretty lady and her friends,” Tariq commands as the fist comes close to Seokjin’s jaw. The man looks ready to argue, but even he knows he can’t go against the leader’s orders. And once a half-hearted apology is made, Tariq continues to look at Seokjin curiously. “It seems you know about this shop and the people here more than you let on, kid.”

Seokjin doesn’t know when, but all the other boys are suddenly with you. Jungkook cracks his neck, mouth twitching as he stares at the group with darkened eyes. Yoongi stares at the group with a look that could put a wrath demon to shame. Hoseok has his hand firmly on your wrist as Namjoon murmurs for Taehyung to take you to Jimin’s.

Not because you necessarily need protection.

But because they know how fiercely protective you are of Seokjin.

Seeing the man nearly hit Seokjin made you furious. Seokjin realizes that Hoseok is holding your wrist so you don’t use magic, murmuring against your temple to calm down. Even as Taehyung tugs you to come with him, you refuse to budge. Your eyes are glued to the group of men, and perhaps it’s the lighting, but Seokjin had seen that look on your face once before.

When you almost turned Wicked.

Yoongi steps in front of you, blocking your view of them and Seokjin. Whatever he says to you snaps you out of it. And when Seokjin peeks at you, your eyes are still the same. No trace of golden Wickedness in your irises. Even though you’re still angry and refuse to leave him out of your sight.

“I should’ve known this was some kind of set up,” Tariq begins, laughing in disbelief. “What’s this all about, Seokjin? Do you want money? Glory? Who the hell are these people anyway?”

Seokjin turns to him. In a tavern where most of his men have been knocked out, and where the remaining will soon forget, a truth is revealed. “This is my family.”

“Looks more like a coven to me,” Tariq states, eyeing the others. It starts to make sense to him why Seokjin picked his side over his brother’s. Why he seemed so concerned about the mages to begin with. “Is this about the demonstration? You’re upset that I hurt one of your kind, aren’t you?”

“Boss…” the man behind Seokjin croaks out, voice heavy with sleep. He wobbles on his feet and his eyes roll to the back of his head before the spell overcomes him.

One by one, the others start to fall into a deep sleep as well. And it’s only then that Tariq realizes he’s the last man standing. Without his crew, and for the first time in a very long while, Tariq looks terrified. “What have you done? What did you do to us?”

“Don’t worry. You won’t remember,” Seokjin assures him, stepping closer to him. “Not this shop, not any of our faces, not even the mages you tortured after the mission. To you, it will be just a dream. And you and your men will travel far from here and won’t harm another mage again. Am I clear?”

Tariq nods his head, eyes glazed over as the command settles in. His body begins to relax, fall sluggish, and then he slowly starts to slip to the ground. Already, the faces of Seokjin, you, and the others begin to blur before his eyes. Memories start to escape him. He wants to travel, get out of town, sail the seas, but to where?

“Good,” Seokjin finishes, holding out his hand as the hypnosis takes its effect completely and Tariq begins to pass out. “Now hand me the key around your neck.”

In the dark and damp cellar, three mages are barely alive. Old and fresh wounds are all over their bodies, and it feels like months since they’ve eaten anything but scraps of moldy bread or rusty water. They’ve lost count of their days, but at this point, anything is better than this hell, even the Veil itself.

A flinch of fear twitches in their bodies when the sound of the cellar key unlocks. It must be that man again, coming to torture them more, until they’re obedient like dogs to use as tools for his quests.

“Are you guys in here?”

One of the women dares to lift her head, seeming to recognize the voice calling out to the darkness. Her voice is barely a whisper when she answers, “Yes, we’re here.”

Light shines upon them like a candle of hope. And Seokjin is holding the torch. He looks relieved to see them, to see that they’re still alive, but frowns at the urgent conditions they’re in. He reaches into his satchel and pulls out small vials. “These should help a little.”

As the liquid touches their lips, they’re surprised. It’s a healing potion.

Already, the warm and rejuvenating effects surges an energy in them. Pain melts away in an instant. Life starts to shine back into their eyes. It’s a small and temporary fix, but it’s the best they’ve felt in ages.

With stiff and sore joints and muscles, they help each other out of the dark cellar and under the bright moon and its blanket of stars. Tears fall from the male mage’s eyes as he leans his weight on his friend, barely able to walk on his own. The team Seokjin was with is there to meet them, and Seokjin explains that they will help them safely get out of town and to a place where they can stay for a little while.

There is another group with them as well. Two male mages, one female mage, and their familiars. Another human is with them too, astonished by an entire guild of ruthless, cutthroat men snoring away as you all help carry them into Tariq’s house.

“Is that them?” the female mage that Seokjin had talked to after the mission inquires, looking at you all. Seokjin follows her gaze and sees Jungkook flexing to impress you before he hoists one of the bodies over his shoulder.

“Yeah. That’s my family.”

“Family, huh? That’s nice,” she continues. Despite how hectic and draining the night has been, you laugh and playfully smack Jungkook as you follow him inside. It’s once the two of you are out of sight where she finally looks away. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten your name.”

“Ah, that’s right. My name is Seokjin,” he says, a bit embarrassed that he had planned a whole rescue mission and didn’t even properly introduce himself yet. “And you?”

She smiles. “You can call me Lilah.”

“We’ve been here for hours and we didn’t catch anything,” Taehyung whines, visibly glum that the group decided to return back empty-handed. Hoseok chuckles and pats his shoulder to comfort him.

“It was still fun. I liked it,” Yoongi admits as Seokjin practically beams at him.

“What about you, honey? Did you like it?” he asks you, hoping you had a good time. Though, he can’t help but feel a bit disappointed that your first fishing trip together wasn’t as action-packed as he’d like.

“I won’t lose points with your parents if we show up without a fish?” you ask him, half-joking but also like you’re ready to go back out there and use magic to lure in the biggest catch if he says you would.

“Don’t worry,” Jimin says, putting his arm around you. “We can go to the market, buy a fish there, and say we caught it.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” Namjoon mutters, thinking about it.

“Oh! I want to look at the marketplace here!” Jungkook states, eyes wide with interest when he realizes there might be new food to try in this small town.

Seokjin laughs. “We can go check some places out, but we’re not lying to my parents.”

The trip that Seokjin has been wanting to take you all to was finally happening. After saving up for it, and pushing it back, all of you have arrived at his small, fisherman town. Not much has changed since he left, and his parents were surprised that he had returned home with so many people eager to meet them.

But after they received his letters, they were equally eager to meet you. The one who changed their son to be a braver, more open-minded man. To see with their own eyes that their son is still good and hard-working, and is also very-well loved by his new-found family.

After a quick trip to the market, you, Seokjin, and Yoongi prepare a nice dinner for his parents. The rest of your group offer to clean up afterwards. As Seokjin adds vegetables into his stew, he hears his mother call for him to her bedroom.

“This belonged to my grandmother,” she tells him, revealing an old ring she’s been looking for. “When you marry that girl, use this ring.”

Seokjin smiles as he looks at it. He feels touched, surprised, but also sad. Mages aren’t allowed to marry. There won’t be a beautiful ceremony for you and Seokjin that his parents would attend. Giving you the ring won’t change the way things currently are between you and him now.

“I will, Mom. Thank you.”

“It’s beautiful, Jin.”

You look down at the ring around your finger. Under the sunlight, the diamonds sparkle beautifully. It reminds you of stars, and the way the surfaces of clear water glimmer. Coincidentally, it has seven stones embedded in the band.

“Even if it’s just pretend, my mom will be happy when she sees you wear it next time.”

You look up at Seokjin, and you see him staring at the ring as well. It’s a perfect fit.

A moment of silence passes between you two before you finally ask, “Jin, why do you pretend that we’re married?”

He meets your gaze, a bit embarrassed now. He remembers when you met his friends at the marketplace and how they referred to you as his wife. Awkwardly, he looks away again and rubs his neck. “Oh, they just assumed. I never bothered to correct them.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.” Maybe it makes him happy to pretend as well.

“Do you want to marry me?”

He sighs. “You know I would if— why are you kneeling?”

When he looks back at you, you’re kneeling on the ground, holding his hand with the ring he had put on your finger. Then, you wrap your pinky around his.

“I don’t know if I’m doing this right,” you tell him, a bit shyly. “But maybe we can find someone who can officiate us. Maybe if the other guys want to be married too, we can include them. Maybe we can find our own way to make it work. But I love you, Kim Seokjin. I truly do. And if you’ll have me, I wouldn’t be opposed to having a worldwide handsome husband either.”

Seokjin stares at you, shocked, happy, and so full of love. He laughs and kneels down with you, holding your face in his hands as he kisses you.

Two weeks later, after you and the others return from the trip, Seokjin meets up with his team at the shop. They look around in awe and wonder before settling in the tavern. It feels strange that it wasn’t that long ago that everything with Tariq had happened.

Now, he’s embarking on a new journey overseas with his trusted men. None of them remember what had happened after they woke up. Tariq doesn’t even remember why he and his brother have fought, but he had decided that staying in New Haven was no longer what he wanted to do anymore. And Adnan could run the Freelancers however he pleases without arguing with his brother all the time.

Seokjin got word that the mages made it safely to a place, but the one named Lilah had left the group and seemingly disappeared.

The other boys were upset that Seokjin didn’t give them a head’s up about giving you the ring or the proposal, but none of them were opposed to the idea of marrying you eventually either. Even Jimin returned to the flower shop and muttered about trying to find a ring that he had somewhere.

“Here’s some drinks for everyone,” you announce, setting down the beverages in front of each of them. Seokjin murmurs his thanks and pulls you down for a quick kiss. It makes Byulyi and Junghwan scrunch their noses as Sunwoo, Heeyeon, and Jaehwan smile at him.

“So, you and your wife are doing well,” Heeyeon remarks, resting her chin on the palm of her hand.

“She’s great. We’re great,” Seokjin confirms with a tiny, shy smile. No one else is at the shop at this time, so you talk to Hoseok at the bar and pet Yoongi, who is sleeping on it in his cat form.

“I guess you could say things have been pretty magical lately?” Jaehwan inquires as Seokjin turns to him, surprised.

Byulyi laughs at his expression. “We figured it out a long time ago, Jin. It’s okay. We won’t tell anyone about them.”

“Oh. Okay.” He sighs with relief. “They’re the reason why I had to save those mages.”

“We know,” Sunwoo says with a smile. “It was kind of nice doing a mission like that. Without Adnan or Tariq. Just us, your mage wife, and your magical friends.”

Junghwan groans. “What are we going to do now? I still want to go on quests with you guys, but I don’t think I want to join the Freelancers again.”

“They’re slowly becoming like any other guild now,” Heeyeon agrees, shaking her head. After the rescue mission, they don’t think they could join another guild that sees mages as enemies either.

Seokjin is quiet as he thinks about the past few months. He used to be traditional, following his orders and duties diligently, listening to words of the Devoted. Now, he’s changed a lot as he thinks about what Tariq said, about how you and him are willing to make things work in your own way, how they’ve all started to see mages as friends and not enemies.

“Why don’t we just make our own guild?” Seokjin suggests, as he looks at his friends before him. They look back at him with interested looks and excited smiles. “We’ve done missions on our own before. We can do it again.”

“Yeah, we can just register as our own guild in the town square and start off by taking missions at the local community board,” Byulyi reasons, already starting to organize it together. “We’ll need a name though. What should we call ourselves?”

Seokjin glances at you and sees all the things he’s promised to you with the ring you wear around your finger. “Let’s call ourselves the Oathkeepers.”

Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reviews are greatly appreciated!

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#magic shop series #seokjin x reader #seokjin x you #seokjin smut #bts fantasy au #bts smut #bts magic au #bts fanfic #bts witch au

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jack-the-nibbler · 6 months

Text

Voretober Day 6: Comfort/Bet

You're quite the horror lover and thought that you would have little problem spending a few hours in an abandoned castle. Unfortunately, it wasn't quite abandoned...

Why had you decided to take this dare? That question repeated itself in your head again and again with each step you took towards the entrance to the castle. For centuries, your town had circulated rumors that a vampire count lived in the dismal keep that towered some distance from the town. You were a bit of an urban legend and horror junkie, and had tried to do your fair share of research on the history of the castle.

In the week leading up to Halloween, some of your friends had dared you to visit the keep and try to find the vampire that lurked there. It seemed fun at first, and appropriately spooky, but the drive there had you filled with doubt. After all, there was a difference between saying and doing. But the place looked stable enough up close…you’d be in and out. Just an hour or two hour adventure. Right?

Equipped with your phone, a flashlight, a water bottle, and snacks, you swallowed your nerves as you stepped up the stairs to the massive, oak doors. One of them was open just a crack, giving you enough space to shimmy your way inside. The inside was appropriately massive; there was a surprising lack of dust or debris for an abandoned keep. Moonlight flitted in through the windows, illuminating a long, red rug leading down a vast hallway.

Heading down the main hall, you gazed at a line of portraits hung up along the walls. Each one depicted men and women with ashen flesh, white or silver hair, and fancy clothes in red, black, and gold colors. It really did feel like you were in some vampire movie. You chuckled softly to yourself, half expecting a swarm of bats to burst out of nowhere.

Each room of the castle seemed to be well maintained. You’d honestly been expecting something more spooky and dilapidated. Who was keeping this place up and running? Was some dedicated preservationist camping out here, or repeatedly making that drive up the mountain road? As you stepped into what looked like a parlor, your eyes traveled over the plush furniture, blood red rug, golden candelabra holding flickering candles…

Wait a minute…that candelabra was lit. If this place was abandoned, then where did the fire come from? The sound of footsteps made you freeze. Either that was another explorer, a thief, or this place really wasn’t vacant. You looked over to the nearest hallway, trying to think of what you might say to this stranger. But when the man stepped into the parlor, all possible words left your mind.

The man was about eight feet tall, as pale as the people in the portraits and having messy silvery hair. He wore an incredibly ornate coat and suit; red, gold, and black, decorated with bloody rose pins and shiny rubies. He wore an equally fancy top hat with a golden bat pin, and long, thin batlike wings extended out from his back. His blood red eyes sized you up, his pointed ears perking up.

“Ahh…a visitor? I haven’t had any visitors in quite a long time…” he said. “Welcome to my home, dear. Please, don’t be so afraid.” But you were frozen. The vampire was real…here, in the flesh, and you were an intruder and likely prey. Fear and instinct kicked in, and you turned and fled back down the way you came. Screw the bet, you weren’t being drained tonight!

“Wait! Please, don’t run!” he cried. But you ignored him, trying to find your way back to the entrance. As you dashed around corners and through hallways, it quickly became apparent that you were lost. The moment you stopped to catch your breath, a large, silver bat flapped up before you, instantly transforming into the vampire you’d just fled from. “I’m sorry, but I cannot let you leave just yet!” he exclaimed, towering over you.

The Count’s ruby-red eyes suddenly glowed. You cowered back under his intense stare; he somehow seemed taller now, growing by the moment. Looking down at the floor, you realized that it was getting closer. He wasn’t growing-you were shrinking! You turned to run again, but the Count grabbed

“There we go…it’ll be okay, luv,” he said softly, gently petting your head with his thumb. “I’ll just tuck you away for a bit…keep you close to me…” You wriggled in his hold, trying to make sense of his words…and then he held you up and opened wide. The candlelight caught on his fangs, glinting like ivory spears.

“No! Don’t eat me!” You cried. The Count only gave you a soft look before slipping your legs into his mouth. You froze in fear of being sliced on his razor sharp fangs. You shuddered at the feeling of his saliva soaking your pant legs, his tongue sliding against your lower body. All you could do was watch helplessly as your feet slid into his throat.

The vampire was slow and gentle as he slipped you further into his mouth. Your hips slid past his lips, your legs engulfed by his throat. You tried pressing against his lips, but he slurped in your belly, then your chest, leaving only your head visible. The tip of his tongue slid out and curled around your head, pulling you all the way inside.

Your fate was sealed as the Count’s mouth closed behind you. You were up to your hips in his throat, your back pressed against his tongue. Now that you were completely inside, the Count was swallowing you faster, pulling you closer to your slimy doom. Your struggling did nothing to make the vampire spit you out. You tried to grab onto his uvula, but your hands slipped from the fleshy tab. One last strangled cry left you as you were engulfed by the pulsing abyss.

You clawed at the slimy, squishy walls of the vampire’s gullet, one more futile attempt to save yourself. You felt your devourer shudder, his fingers pressing against the bulge in his neck. It was a long, constricting slide down to his stomach, and by the time you were squeezed inside, you felt like your very bones had been beaten.

Shivering, you took out your flashlight and looked around. It was a pink, balmy pouch, about the perfect size to hold you. As if you belonged here. You curled up, whimpering, especially as the Count started to rub you from outside, as if you were just a snack to him.

“I’m…I’m sorry, my dear…I shouldn’t have done that…” he murmured, gently stroking over you. “For decades it has been only my butler and I, and the loneliness has been crushing. I promise not to hurt you…and I will let you go before sunrise. I hope that you can forgive me.”

You laid there in shock. He wasn’t going to hurt you? He did sound genuine…not to mention deeply sorrowful. You tried to think of what it would be like to essentially be alone for possibly hundreds of years. Perhaps you’d be just as desperate for company. And you had to admit, it was surprisingly warm and cozy inside this undead creature’s stomach.

Hearing the Count starting to weep, you reached over to gently rub the stomach walls. He froze, shocked. But he slowly started to purr, rubbing over you in return. He’d spent countless years longing for affection. For the first time in so long, he felt loved…even if just a little. “Thank you, my dear…” he murmured.

You smiled softly, nestling into one of the stomach folds as you rubbed him more. This really wasn’t so bad. Come morning you would likely chew out your friends for putting you through this. But at the same time, you would surprise the Count with quite a few visits after this. Perhaps more than one where he happily tucks you away again.

#soft vore #safe vore #nonfatal vore #male pred #unwilling prey #vampire pred #halloween vore #voreville voretober #voretober #prey pov #pov vore #I was supposed to post this last year lmao #vore writing

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taggedmemes · 3 months

Text

SENTENCE MEME BALDUR'S GATE 3 / PART THREE

i heard what happened.

thank you for protecting the child.

we can risk violence here or face it for certain on the road.

a low thought, but i'd be lying if i said i hadn't considered it.

i'm not some murderer for hire.

to get these people to safety, there's nothing i won't do.

if your people survived that, they'll survive anything.

it's unusual for them to organize so cleverly.

you're equal to the task.

try not to keel over with the first blade drawn.

might not look it, but we're tough.

there's optimism and then there's stupid.

how are you going to take my gold if you're dead?

just leave the gold on my corpse.

i wish we could at least give them a proper burial.

gold ain't any use if you're too cold to spend it.

you're giving up?

you should leave it, or destroy it.

at best it's worthless. at worst, who knows.

do not trifle with that moon witch or her trinkets.

only trouble will follow.

we've enough troubles and burdens as it is.

perhaps you can sell that for a couple of coins.

i should pluck your eyes out.

a cursed book? how obvious.

this quarrel sours our feast.

be you friend or food?

am i not astonishing?

i am by all accounts a student of higher commerce and extortion.

it's not what it looks like, i swear.

i wasn't going to hurt you.

i can't believe i didn't see it.

i'm not some monster.

why didn't you tell me?

i needed you to trust me.

you can trust me.

do you think you could trust me just a little further?

let's make ourselves comfortable, shall we?

i was just swept up in the moment.

i'm looking forward to seeing you fight.

you're invigorating, but i need something more filling.

this is a gift, you know. i won't forget it.

good morning. how do you feel?

i just feel a little woozy.

i thought you'd be more powerful.

someone, or something, wants me alive.

as for my other quirks — well, we can figure those out in time.

i'm just glad you're being sensible about these revelations.

i was worried people might turn up with torches and pitchforks.

that explains the pallor.

we're each monsters in the making.

i taste absolutely awful.

we need him, like it or not.

we're bound together, no matter what comes.

you say all the right words, but i'm not so sure you mean the right things.

i will respect the decision that was made.

we're all friends again.

there's a long day ahead of us.

what a manner of place is this?

is this a path to redemption or a road to damnation?

your journey is just beginning.

what would suit the occasion?

i am [name], very much at your service.

if you want to threaten me, don't disguise it.

you're paranoid, aren't you.

must be the surroundings.

rather bleak and lonesome, one feels so exposed.

this quaint little scene is decidedly too middle-of-nowhere for me.

enjoy your supper. after all, i might be your last.

are these theatrics leading somewhere?

are you not entertained?

far be it from me to disappoint.

how dear is one's soul?

you're made if you think i'll make a deal with a devil.

what is madness but a denial of reality?

exhaust every possibility until none are left.

when hope has been whittled down to the very marrow of despair, that's when you'll come knocking on my door.

i'll have the last laugh in the end.

one might say you're a paragon of luck.

i've something important to discuss with you.

we've been travelling together for a while now and it's just about time that i shared something with you.

are you telling me you're addicted to magic?

i would not burden anyone other than myself with this were the stakes not so high.

if not out of the simple goodness of your heart, then perhaps your own self-interest might be sufficient motivation.

please, trust me.

your help could be the difference between life and death.

i'm afraid that's not going to work on me.

let us agree on actions first and explanations later.

i didn't come seeking battle.

you're different than the others, i can tell.

i'm afraid proper thanks must wait.

your boldness is a blessing.

it takes more than mere fire to break me.

i must ask again for your aid.

why entrust this to me?

i know him better than most.

i'm not interested in your lineage.

you shouldn't keep secrets like this from me.

he named me friend, and that meant the world.

they're a powerful friend with a keen interest in privacy.

i'm sworn to say no more.

i spent more time dueling than rubbing elbows with lords.

not to say i didn't develop a taste for good win and a talent for courtly dance.

it's been a badger's age since i've twinkled my toes.

a drunk ogre could put on a better show.

we can learn a lot from fairytales, don't you think?

he'll require of you only what you're least ready to part with, and then require more still.

the devil won't take just anything, he'll take everything.

that is a story reserved for lifetime friends and calmer days.

i question the wisdom in that decision but so be it.

there's no way you could have known.

i doubt a fight against them would go your way.

seems you have good survival instincts.

i go my own way — alone.

#rp sentence meme #sentence meme #sentence prompts #sentence starters #starter sentences #rp memes #rpc #memes

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farfromharry · 2 years

Text

Beth [ 17 ] | Dad!Eddie Munson fic

Seventeen, Birthdays and makeups

Word count - 7417

Warnings - minimal angst ig, language?

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

November 1995

It had been two whole months since your fight with Beth and the two of you still hadn’t made up. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried, you definitely had— her? not so much— but you were unable to put so much of a focus on it when you had a very needy newborn to take care of. It was tearing Eddie up inside, he was basically begging you daily to take action, but nothing changed.

The perfect moment arose as Eddie’s birthday approached. You and Tulip wanted to do something sweet to celebrate Steve and your husband’s shared day of birth– despite the fact the younger man would probably hate that with everything in him. However, it wasn’t up to them, so the two of you planned it all out as a delightful surprise.

Before the actual date, closer to mid November than late due to Tulip’s impending due date, the four of you– plus your lovely kids– were going to stay in a house overlooking Lake Ontario for a couple days. It was a long drive, almost thirteen hours, which was completely unbearable to the heavily pregnant woman, but you were doing it for your husbands not yourselves. Bat would be staying with Wayne for the duration, the man having quite the soft spot for the feline. You had tried to worm him onto the trip with you, but it’d been met with a hard no from Steve.

The original idea had been that you had the chance to talk with Beth on the drive, when there was nowhere for any of you to run, but she had convinced her pseudo aunt and uncle to allow her to go with them. You were unaware until the time for you all to leave came, your heart sinking as she climbed into the Range Rover beside the two car seats containing the Harrington twins. “What are you doing?” Eddie asked, glancing between his daughter and his best friend.

Tulip looked a little worried she’d overstepped. “She asked if she could come with us, she said she wanted to spend time with Halley and Lyra. Is that okay?”

You could tell your husband was going to say no, push his daughter to sit through a very awkward car journey for both of your sakes. It was honestly quite selfless of him to be willing to sit through so much tension for so long just so you had the opportunity to make up. However, though you appreciated the sentiment, you were still nervous that forcing this on Beth was only going to make her resent you more. “That’s fine, Tulip. She loves those girls,” you jumped in, ignoring the look Eddie shot you. “Plus, it’ll let Lola sleep if she’s with you.”

There wasn’t much more to debate, and you missed the longing look the nine year old sent in your direction. You wanted to get on the road as quickly as possible and no one would argue with you about that.

Once inside the privacy of Eddie’s old van, he brought up what had just happened, even as you tried to ignore him by busying yourself starting the shitty engine and such. “Why did you do that? This could have been your moment.”

You were avoiding eye contact with him and he knew it. Instead of looking into those puppy eyes, which you knew would have you spilling your darkest of secrets. As you responded, you quickly checked on Lola, made sure she was okay and still sleeping calmly. “I just thought she’d be happier with them. We have time to talk at the house.”

He noticed you were getting yourself worked up again, and in an attempt to make you feel better, place his hand over one of yours. The look on his eyes was full of love and sincerity. “We’ll fix this. She loves you just as much as you love her.”

With that you started the engine of the van, leading the way to what would be your home for the next few days.

The first day you arrived, none of you had the energy to do anything. After so much traveling, and pulling over thanks to Tulip’s tiny pregnancy bladder, you were all exhausted– well, all except Lola who had taken many many naps during the journey. It was late when you pulled up outside of the large house, almost nine in the evening which was definitely past all four children’s bedtimes. They were taken straight to bed, Eddie carrying a sleepy Beth while Steve was tasked with carrying both of his twins. The three were staying all in one room, while Lola would be with you and your husband so you could keep an eye on her.

You and Tulip sat yourselves down to finally have some rest. She stretched herself out on the couch, hands cradling her bump as she tried to fight her drooping eyes. She didn’t want to fall asleep without Steve by her side. This second pregnancy– she wouldn’t admit it happened in the first too– had found her a lot clingier with her husband, specifically when she got tired. It had become almost an impossible task for her to try to sleep without the man somewhere nearby or with a hand on her.

You had taken a seat in the armchair across from the couch, blanket thrown over yours and Lola’s laps to keep you warm. The November chill didn’t seem as harsh with the warmth from the blanket and the crackling fire.

Tulip was practically passed out by the time the two men came back down the stairs. She had been watching on as you amused your daughter, your fingers tickling her pudgy belly to hear those happy baby giggles that made your heart so warm. At the sight of his sleepy wife, he was grinning like an idiot, taking big strides over to the couch so he could join her, maybe stroke her hair or hold her as she napped.

He was careful when he lifted her head to rest it in his lap, trying not to shake her too much in case he roused her out of the content daze she was in.

In the meantime, Eddie was joining you and your daughter in the roomy chair, beaming at her when she babbled mindlessly to him as he sat down. In a motherly move, you threw some of the knitted blanket over his legs, hoping to keep him cozy. “How’s Beth?” you asked, adjusting your position so your husband could wrap his arms around your frame, tucking you into his side while Lola rested between you happily.

“She’s okay. Tired. Would probably be better if her mom had said goodnight.” You scolded him under your breath, not wanting to have a conversation like that when your friends were right there. Steve could probably hear everything you were saying. The way he was looking at you both as he subconsciously drew circles on his wife’s arm, told you exactly that.

It wasn’t his place, but his curiosity got the better of him after he watched the two of you whisper-yell at each other for a few minutes. “What’s going on with you and Beth? Did something happen?”

You sighed, sinking further into your seat as you hoped to avoid the question entirely. Despite Eddie’s encouraging nudges to just tell him, you were praying the other man would simply lose interest and change the subject, or that if you were silent for long enough he would get the gist that you didn’t feel like answering. Eventually Eddie’s elbow in your ribs became far too irritating to ignore, scowling at him as you prepared an answer for Steve. “She thinks now that we have Lola, I don’t love her cause ‘I’m not her real mom,’ which is crazy.”

“Is it though?” he asked, seeing the confusion spring on your face. “Crazy, I mean.”

Hearing those words coming from the dad of two, soon to be four, didn’t fill you with much confidence. You were beginning to rethink everything you had felt the last couple months. Was Beth in the right? Were you really picking favorites?

“I know newborns are clingy, trust me I do– but kids feel left out, it’s not crazy or absurd for her to feel that way.” He wasn’t intending to make you feel bad, but that didn’t mean guilt wasn’t bubbling up in your chest. “I’m not blaming you– either of you. Just something to think about.”

The conversation was cut short when Lola began to babble excitedly, almost like she knew what you were talking about and wanted to make the mood lighter. Whereas Eddie was happy to entertain her in an instant, the smile on your face was much less excited and a lot more forced as you tried to pretend to be unbothered by the information Steve had just relayed to you. That same mood continued for the rest of the night, not that anyone really noticed. Or if Eddie did, he didn’t bring it up.

The next morning, after everyone was refreshed and feeling much more wide awake– and you were less upset about your conversation last night, you all decided to go swimming. Eddie wasn’t particularly happy about that decision, he was a big hater of anything water, but he was at least a bit grateful that it wasn’t by a beach— god he hated the beach.

You and Tulip had opted to stay out of the water for a little, to her the thought of swimming while almost full term with two babies wasn’t a pleasant one. As for you, you were just happy to observe everyone having fun. Eddie was trying to introduce your five month old to the water as gently as he could, while Steve was occupied with the three kids. He was attempting to teach Beth how to paddleboard, making sure he gave her extra attention after the news he was made aware of the night before. He didn’t want her to feel left out for a second. His own two girls were paddling just a short distance away with their floaties high on their arms, giggling away as the two twins splashed at each other. Although Tulip wasn’t obsessed with the idea of them being ‘on their own’, she did accept that Steve was close enough that he could jump in at any time if they needed him. Plus he was a certified lifeguard, that got him brownie points too.

As for you and Tulip, you were trying to narrow down the plans for your husbands’ joint birthday surprise. The two of you wanted to throw a mini party, but details had yet to be discussed. Now was the perfect time.

“What kind of cake does Steve like? I was thinking if he and Eddie don’t like the same, we could make two,” you said. You had slipped in the ‘make’ part so casually that she almost missed it, but luckily she did hear it. Up until this point she hadn’t considered the fact they would be homemade.

“I thought we were just buying them. Are you making them?” Owning the diner, she assumed you knew how to cook pretty well. Eddie had mentioned to her in passing before that you were the one in the relationship that cooked; he was notoriously just as bad as she was when it came to the skill. They never took the opportunity to learn, or really had to thanks to Petal, unlike Steve and you.

You chuckled. “Me? We’re making them,” you confirmed. There was no way in hell you were making two separate birthday cakes yourself. She might have been heavily pregnant, but the least she could do is pass you the ingredients.

The woman pouted, deflating in her seat. “Why me? I can’t bake.”

“He’s your husband, ‘m sure he doesn’t care how good it is. Surely he’d love something made by you.”

“I can guarantee he wouldn’t. He wants nothing home cooked by me, ever.” Her confession made you giggle. You didn’t know to what extent her skill was, didn’t know one time she had set off the smoke alarm burning a meal for Steve, but in your eyes she couldn’t be as bad as your own husband. That was up for debate though. “Did you at least get him a gift?”

She gestured to her large bump, widening her eyes a little like it should have been obvious. You knew she wasn’t much of a material gift giver, so you don’t know why you expected any less. “He’s getting nothing more than his daughter,” she shrugged.

“D’you think it’s too late for me to try that one on Eddie?” you asked, playfully. You’d already gotten the man you loved a gift, combat boots to replace his old, worn out ones and a signet ring with his children’s fingerprints (shaped into an adorable heart) to commemorate him turning the big thirty.

As Tulip looked over to Lola, she grinned, turning back to you with the same happy expression. “Maybe just a few months too late. But ‘m sure if you're adamant enough you could convince him.”

He must’ve noticed the glances the two of you had been occasionally sending his way, because his eyes were fixated on you both firmly, even as Lola whined for his attention. Or at least that was what he thought she was beginning to blubber for. The woman beside you obviously had to take every opportunity to tease her best friend, even if the intense staring wasn’t bothering her as much as she let on. “What’re you looking at, ugly?”

He rolled his eyes, ignoring the way you didn’t even try and protest to her words. Instead he chose to fire back where he knew it would strike a nerve. “Look Lols,” Eddie cooed, bobbing the girl in the water carefully. Her eyes followed where he was pointing, as did all of you that were curious, until they landed on Tulip on the deck. “A beached whale.”

There was a series of gasps from you and the two other adults. It was the first time Steve had taken his attention away from the kids since you first got into the water a couple hours back. There was a proud grin plastered on the metalhead’s lips, but it would be quickly wiped away at the threat of death from the woman. Although he did try his hardest to prevent it, not exactly in the most moral way though. “You can’t hurt me, I’m holding a baby,” he announced, holding Lola up to where the two of you could see her better than before.

“Are you using your infant as a shield?” Steve asked.

He held no shame as he nodded. But just like clockwork, the girl in question began to cry, her gaze searching for her mother. You were quickly on your feet, meeting your husband halfway so you could tend to your baby. “Not anymore,” you grinned, taking the little girl whose arms were outstretched to you. Her eyes had been growing much more watery as her feeding time approached. Unfortunately for your husband, that meant he no longer had a shield stopping his best friend from giving him a piece of her mind.

If it wasn’t so much work for the pregnant lady to even think about, she would have attempted to kill him in some way– maybe drown him for the convenience of it. He was lucky, this time, but that didn’t mean he’d be protected the next.

That didn’t mean he was safe from her children though. In an attempt to protect their mother’s honor, the two little girls went right for him. They made battle sounds as they basically threw themselves at him, knocking him back in the water. The sight produced a lot of laughter, none of it from Eddie though who was being used like a jungle gym by two four year olds. She cheered them on, ignoring her best friend’s playful pleas for her to call back her army.

They ceased a little while later, growing bored of their Uncle Eddie and ultimately deciding they needed to bother their dad again– though he was more than happy to have their company. That was when your husband decided to take to entertaining Beth, trying to make sure the girl felt included to the best of his ability.

He’d noticed how she had stayed away from him when he had been cradling the five month old, barely even looked at him in fact. This wasn’t the relationship he expected his daughters to have. She had been much more interested in hanging out with the Harrington twins. The two four years being more like her sisters than Lola was. It broke his heart to think, and he couldn’t even imagine how it made you feel. He noticed the looks, the frowns that you thought no one saw when you looked at her. When you first properly talked to Eddie about Lola, you gushed to him the idea of the two girls being the bestest of friends– the way you wished you could have been with a sister if you had had one. To know that fantasy of yours was rapidly going down the drain must have been ruining you inside.

If anyone had taken to counting the longing looks you and Beth sent to each other throughout the day, they would have been up in the millions by now. It was clear to everyone that you both missed each other, and no one had any clue why you were letting this mini feud go on for so long. No one was more confused than the father of the child himself.

Most of the day, besides lunch and the frequent bathroom breaks– specifically for Tulip, was spent in or beside the lake. All went well for the most part, but it swiftly came to an end when Steve brought up the brilliant idea of putting the grill to good use. Any single one of you would die for the Harrington man’s cooking, especially his currently pregnant wife. The second the words left his mouth, it was like a competition of who could get out of the water faster.

You would have joined them, had it not been for the man blocking your way on the deck. He thought it’d be fun for the two of you to have your own swim in the lake, just the two of you. And you would have agreed, had he informed you it was going to start with him tackling you in off the deck.

“What are you doing?” you asked, eyeing him warily as he approached you on the end of the dock. Your eyes were narrowed in his direction, suspicious of every move he made closer to you. He shrugged, trying to act as innocent as he possibly could, but his acting skills could use some heavy work. The mischief in his eyes was blatant, and only someone with an ulterior motive would smile at someone like that.

He wanted you to think he was only going in for a hug, and maybe if you hadn’t already suspected he was up to something, you might have. When his arms reached out for you though, you took a step back, pointing your finger at him sternly as if to tell him to quit while he was ahead. Your motherly authority didn’t work on him though, he knew all the weaknesses you possessed that would convince you to forgive him in the long run. “I’m not doing anything, I swear.”

“Eddie,” you cautioned.

Your warning was completely ignored as he lunged for you, tackling you into the lake below like his plan had been all along. As the two of you emerged from underneath the water, he was giggling like a mad man, putting a little bit of distance between the two of you so you didn’t kill him straight away. He’d experienced enough attempted drownings for one day.

The sound of his laughter was contagious, but you were supposed to be mad at him. You were trying your hardest to hold back the laughter that desperately wanted to leave your lips, but it was becoming close to impossible the longer he grinned at you with that dreamy smile.

“You’re an ass,” you complained, chuckling towards the end of your words. He didn’t care, you could call him anything in that moment and it wouldn’t change the love he was feeling for you. Not even when you splashed him as some sort of payback. When he finally deemed it safe, he closed the gap between you, his arms snaking around your torso under the water. Yours looped around his neck, the two of you now so close that your noses almost brushed against one anothers.

If you had looked hard enough, you would have seen Tulip standing at the door of the house, video camera in hand as she caught the sweet moment on film. There was a warm smile on her face as she captured the sight, but the little girl next to her was staring at you both in almost a hateful scowl. Beth couldn’t help but wonder why you had enough time for Lola and her dad, but not for her. Did you love them more than you did her? She didn’t know what she needed to do to get attention from you at this point, but she had a feeling that the empty spot on her wrist where her half of your matching bracelets used to be, might help. Losing it wasn’t intentional, but surely it would only work in her favor.

The two of you planned on getting out early, but were given reassurance from Tulip that her and her husband could watch your kids. That was all you needed to be given the green light to act like carefree kids for a little bit.

Eddie might have been turning thirty, you close behind, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t take a second to feel like the twenty year old kids you used to be– only this time without a toddler to care for. If you and him had started dating earlier, back in highschool, maybe you would have gotten more moments like this. Moments where you frolicked in Lover’s lake, splashing each other in the hot Hawkins summers to cool each other down. Where you made out under the school bleachers and maybe made fun of the jocks. Where you went on late night drives together to get away from your overbearing families.

None of that was to say that you didn’t love where you were with him now, or that you didn’t love the child that became yours when you and your husband got together. But sometimes you wondered briefly what would have been of your relationship if Beth wasn’t involved from the beginning, if she had been born later– come from you instead of the wretched woman she had to call her birth mother. If you and Eddie had just been regular, non parent, twenty year olds dating, would you even still be together now?

“Hey,” he whispered, bringing you out of your head. You flashed him a smile, brushing some of his wet hair out of his face. His bangs were blocking his view from how the water had shaped them. He resembled a drowned rat a little you thought, but you wouldn’t tell him that. “You looked a little in your head, y’okay?”

You nodded. “Perfect.”

The next day was party day. The first thing the two of you did was send your husbands out on a wild goose chase with your kids. You didn’t care what they did, as long as they were gone for long enough for the two of you to make two cakes and put up some decorations.

You started with Eddie’s, a chocolate cake with chocolate icing. It was simple enough, bland even, the kind of thing you were always whipping up in the diner. That was where his love for the flavor cake had stemmed from, all those nights together the two of you spent eating leftover cake after closing. Who was there to tell you no? The owner?

Although the baking would have been easier with four actively working hands, you still appreciated the way the woman was handing you ingredients as you required them. You tried to encourage her to join you, you tried so hard, but you hadn’t realized how truly poor her skills were when it came to baking. All you’d had her do was crack an egg into a bowl, and somehow there had been more shell than yolk, so you allowed her to continue sitting it out. It was going to work best if you baked and she just sort of sat there, sneakily tasting the batter.

“So, where’d you learn to cook like this?” she asked out of curiosity.

“I was alone a lot as a kid, and my mom had a lot of cookbooks lying around, so I pretty much taught myself the basics so I could survive,” you explained. You didn’t mean to make the mood so sullen, but she did ask. “After that, the diner’s old owner and his wife taught me. I started working there when I was fifteen. They basically raised me for a while, so they were happy to teach me.”

The woman frowned. She didn’t know how she managed to do it, but almost every person she had befriended had a sad, difficult, upbringing. It really put things into perspective for her, but she worked to make sure none of her friends, or her kids, would ever have an experience like that. “Maybe you could try and teach me, if you’re up for it. I know both me and Eddie would benefit from a great teacher.”

She delved into a story about a time where Steve had attempted to teach the pair when he and Tulip first moved in together. Apparently it ended in tears and an almost fire because they were just that terrible– though she didn’t tell you who the tears were from. You had your suspicions though. From that day on, he had banned Eddie from basically ever stepping foot in their kitchen again and Steve was now the designated cook for the Harrington family.

While Eddie’s cake was in the oven, it was time to start on the other mans, confetti cake with strawberry icing. You’d learned from his wife that it was his favorite, though you didn’t sell it at the diner. That led to a bit of a time wasting conundrum where the two of you had to scour through various cookbooks the place housed for some sort of recipe. It definitely deducted some time that would have been very useful, but that didn’t matter now, there was nothing you could do to get it back.

When everything was in the oven, it was time to decorate the place with the minimal birthday banners, balloons and such that you sneaked onto the trip. This was where Tulip’s help really came into play. Your job was sticking up banners so the woman didn’t have to stay on her feet for too long, while she took to blowing up the colorful balloons. You already knew Lola was going to have a field day when she saw the bright inflatables. To be fair, so was your husband. The last thing you had to do was ice the cakes, and you had to do it rather rapidly if you wanted it to be finished by the time the pair walked through the front door. You didn’t do anything special, nothing more than a happy birthday for Steve, and a happy thirtieth for Eddie.

It was safe to say when the two walked back through the door, they were surprised. Both of you had made sure not to spill a single thing to any of the kids. You knew them all too well, if you told them anything, there was no doubt at some point during the day they would relay the information back to their dads— on accident or not. You couldn’t risk it. And you were glad you hadn’t when you saw the look on their faces.

“Surprise,” you cheered, engulfing Eddie in a tight embrace before doing the same for Steve.

After moving away from the brunette, your husband pulled you back to him, itching to have his arms around you. You leaned back into his embrace, watching the kids run in and immediately take to the decorations around them. You turned in his hold, grinning up to your husband. “Happy birthday, honey.” The smile on his face couldn’t have been any bigger if he tried. Instead of verbally responding, he was drawing you in for a sweet kiss.

When you pulled away, you leaned away from him. “I can’t wait for you to see your gift.” Even though the man was turning thirty, he was still a child at heart, even more so a boy. You knew he had turned your words into something they didn’t mean based on the smirk on his face. “Oh? Why? What is it?” You rolled your eyes at his insinuation, walking away from him, taking the babbling baby with you as you went.

From your place against the counter, you could see your friends and family enjoying themselves. Beth was singing along to a song on the radio with your husband, the pair mimicking the guitar in the background with matching grins and similar laughter. The Harrington twins were arm-wrestling (and winning) with their father while their mom watched on fondly, her hand resting subconsciously on her bump. And Lola was chatting to herself and giggling in your arms. Eventually, you could see the growing restlessness in everyone, especially Tulip who just wanted some cake.

Handing Lola to a passing Tulip, you made quick work of placing the candles on both of the cakes and lighting them. Steve and Eddie turned to you after you’d dimmed the lights, eyes lighting up as you walked to the dining table with two cakes in your grasp. Being a waitress really paid off at this moment. You set them down and motioned for them to blow out the candles, the camera you had tucked in between your arm and ribs recording.

The kids were more than eager when they finished, basically jumping on you to cut the cakes. When you did so, you made sure to serve them the dessert first. When Beth begrudgingly walked up to you with her hand out, you swallowed. The blue jewelry piece that usually adorned her wrist was gone, and it made your heart constrict. You knew that she was less than pleased with you, but you never expected her to do such a thing. That bracelet, as childish as it may have seemed, meant that she had finally accepted you. You had placed so much importance on it and you didn’t expect her to just rid herself of it simply because she was mad at you.

With a terse smile, you handed her a slice and watched with a heavy heart as she ran off without a second glance. Steve was behind her in a makeshift line. Having seen the interaction between the two of you, he couldn’t help but ask. “You okay?”

“‘M fine,” it was an obvious lie, but he didn’t push. He gave you a stilted nod before turning back to his little family. You couldn’t stay in your pity party for too long, this night was about the man you loved and one of your best friends, your feelings could wait. Plating a piece for yourself, you joined Eddie and Lola on the couch– the man doing his best at keeping the infant from getting into his slice.

Despite this being Eddie’s second baby, he had no idea if they could have sugar this young. Did that stop him from feeding his Lola some of the icing off of his cake? No. The two were sitting together on the couch, her situated comfortably in his lap. He had been trying to eat the slice of birthday cake you cut for him when she had shown a sudden interest in the food. Rather than wind up with a baby hand right in his food, he decided to offer her some of the chocolate icing. He only took the tiniest bit on the edge of his finger, bringing it to her mouth for her to try. He wasn’t surprised to see that she loved it. They basically ended up sharing it.

The party went well for the most part, despite the prominent ache in your chest the whole time. You didn’t mention it to anyone, just plastered on a smile and let everyone else enjoy the party.

It was that night getting ready for bed when you decided to bring up what had been bothering you. Eddie had noticed, he always notices when something’s off with you. But as usual, he didn’t push it. You could be just like Beth at times, the more he pushed the more defensive and reserved you became; the problem was never solved that way. So he reminded you he was there, but overall let you come to him.

You had been brushing your teeth in the room's adjoining bathroom while he was on the bed with your youngest daughter. Her tiny feet were planted on his stomach, her back leaning against his bent legs, and her small hands clasped in his. He was singing some silly, made up song to her, and she was loving every second of it. She was bouncing along in an attempt to dance as well as a small baby could, she was also giggling loudly at the joy her father provided her with. He was just as happy, cheeks hurting from grinning so hard as he watched her. His new ring, the birthday gift from you, was sitting proudly on his ring finger just above his wedding ring, his shiny new combat boots tucked away in his bag so he couldn’t forget them.

It should’ve been a moment you watched with silent awe, heartfelt father-daughter bonding time that made you coo. But you were unable to swim out of the thoughts that were drowning you.

Your husband didn’t notice at first, too preoccupied with the little girl. It wasn’t until you called him that he realized you were ready to confide in him, and it was his time to listen.

“Honey?” Mocha eyes flickered over to your figure, standing there looking like you were holding on by a thread. One look at his sweet face and you were spilling everything. “She took off the bracelet.” There were tears lining your eyes as you spoke the words. The matching blue bands you and the little girl had around your wrists meant everything to you. She had given you yours the day you married your husband, it was the something blue Eddie had told her you needed. She’d been more than happy to oblige. You noticed it was missing when you had handed her a slice of cake, the space on her wrist was barren, no longer resembling yours that you wore so proudly.

At first he was unsure what you meant, but then his eyes flickered down to your hand that was messing with the familiar fabric on your arm; that’s when it clicked. “Sunshine,” he frowned. Amusing Lola was no longer his biggest priority. The sounds of your cries filled his ears as heart moved the girl to the makeshift crib in the room with urgency, hoping she would fall asleep so the two of you could talk.

Once she was okay, his brain was set on taking all of your sadness away. That was all it was thinking about; you, you, you.

His first plan of action was moving you to a more comfortable place. He led you to the large bed that sat in the middle of the room, the two of you taking a seat together. Your fingers were intertwined with his, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over the back of your hand. “Talk to me.”

As he listened to you cry, he made a decision. He was going to be the one to put his foot down, take the first step to getting his family back to how they were before this whole, silly mess. He was positive he could make more progress in a couple hours than either of you had in months.

“It’s been two months, Y/N. You have to make up.” You were slightly shocked by the sudden turn in his tone. Before he had been comforting, sweet and understanding to what you were feeling. But now it was like he was sick of hearing it.

You frowned. “I’m trying, Eds,” you defended. You knew it was futile; he was right. “She doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

He didn’t mean to get angry, he hadn’t intended to at all, but he was sick of hearing the same excuses over and over. If there were less excuses, from both sides, and more actual talking, this would have been resolved days after it happened. “You’re not trying hard enough!” The reaction on your face was far from what he was aiming for, and also considering the baby sleeping in the room, he knew he needed to take a second to breathe. As soon as he felt more relaxed, less angry, he was trying again. “I love you both, but what you’re doing is hurting me too.”

You hadn’t really thought of it like that before. In your eyes the ones suffering had been you and her, you didn’t bring into consideration that both Eddie and Lola must be struggling because of it too. He must have seen the realization cross your face. “You’re the adult here. She’s only a child, she doesn’t know what she’s doing.”

He was right, and you knew it. After Eddie put his foot down regarding the fight with Beth, you had no choice but to talk with her, whether she wanted to or not. He essentially all but locked the two of you in a room together and demanded you fix things if you wanted out. She’d been stubborn at first, attempting to call his bluff, but soon realized this time her dad wasn’t going to give in.

You were the first one to break the silence. “I don’t want to fight with you. I hate that you’re mad at me, Bethy.” She was pouting, just sitting there with a sad look on her face like her father had committed the most unspeakable act she had ever seen. How could he lock her in a room with you right now? She sort of felt betrayed. “Beth, please look at me.”

When she finally did, it was obvious she was fighting tears. She didn’t mean to cry, she was trying her best not to, but the whole thing was so overwhelming. She didn’t want to face the possible idea of you admitting that you didn’t love her. It was such a scary thought.

“Tell me what’s going on,” you pleaded.

“I didn’t think you cared about me.” Those were basically the first words she had spoken to you in months, and they hurt to hear.

You frowned, timidly reaching for her hand. At first you were scared she would reject it, but she was actually happy for you to hold it. “Why wouldn’t I?”

She sniffled, roughly wiping at her tears with her other hand. “Because you care about Lola more.”

If you were talking to anyone else, you probably would’ve scoffed, maybe even laughed at how ridiculous that sentence was. But you knew she was fragile and feeling particularly sensitive, so it would be the absolute worst thing to do.

You shuffled closer to where she was sitting on the bed, wrapping your arm around her shoulders. You weren’t as hesitant this time, not now that she was crying and you felt the overwhelming motherly urge to comfort her. This time around you were also more certain she wouldn’t try and reject your love. “No, I don’t,” you promised. Not a single part of you wasn’t telling the truth.

She was still trying to find a way to support her worries though. “But, she’s your real daughter, not me. You love her more than me,” she ranted. “You only half love me.”

“There’s no such thing as half love,” you told her. “She might have been the first baby I gave birth to, but you were my first daughter, Beth. I’m your mom just as much as your dad is your dad.” Maybe that part was a gray area. You weren’t her mother, you hadn’t birthed her, but you were sure all you had done to raise her over the years would classify you as her mom. You had been the one to show her love and care. You earned that title.

Her wide brown eyes flickered up to yours, tears still lining her waterline. “Do you promise? You love me just as much as Lola?”

“Of course I do. She just can’t do a lot for herself right now, she’s really relying on me and your dad.”

It seemed like the majority of the issue was solved. She had the knowledge of a promise that you loved her just as much as you loved Lola, and that was all she was really asking. Over the next few days she would come to see it in real time too. You and Eddie were certainly going to be more careful about distributing your time between kids. Plus pushing the two girls to bond so Beth could see her baby sister wasn’t all that bad— maybe then she would see how needy the little girl was and understand your side more.

Now that all was essentially calm and sorted, you had the chance to ask about the one thing that had been plaguing your mind for hours. “What happened to your bracelet?” you asked, timidly. You were rather scared to know the answer.

“I lost it,” she admitted, through a sad cry. It made you feel slightly better to know she hadn’t taken it off out of spite, though it meant it was completely gone now. But you could always make another. “It fell off when we were swimming. Can’t find it.”

“S’okay,” you reassured, offering her the warmest smile you could muster in the moment without crying yourself. “We’ll make new ones, together.”

She nodded, but she was still very visibly upset. You wiped away some of the tears staining her face, not caring that your hands were now wet. With as much strength as she could, she produced a smile, her own way of telling you she was okay without words. You knew her so well. So well in fact, that you were already anticipating the moment where she would crave your comfort. Ever since being a toddler, you observed when she got sad and cried she often liked to be held after. It wasn’t a problem for you.

When the moment came only a few short minutes later, you assisted her in climbing into your lap, the girl wrapping herself around you like a koala to bamboo. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her breathing still uneven from the tears. “I love you, mommy.”

Her apology wouldn’t take back the two months of time that you had missed together, but that was perfectly okay. You believed you could make up for that. All that mattered was that it was all in the past and everyone was forgiven and happy.

You shook your head, securing your arms around her tightly. Having her back in your arms for the first time in months felt surreal. Her head was tucked into your neck, one of your hands lightly resting on the back of it. Your other rubbed over the expanse of her back, like you were checking to see if she was even real. “I love you so much, Beth. You’re my little rockstar.” Your lips pressed to her temple in an affirming kiss, hoping she could feel the love that was currently radiating off of you. There was no better feeling than having your baby back safe and happy in your arms.

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

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mamichigo · 1 year

Text

His subordinates are just as surprised as him when they cross paths at the road leading up to Alhaitham's house. Cyno has just returned from a mission, weary from the travel, but the unexpected encounter awakens all his senses back into full alert. He eyes the Matra who was just about to cross the threshold to Alhaitham's home (the door left ajar, although Alhaitham is nowhere in sight).

It doesn't take much thought to figure out that something is wrong. "What's the situation," he demands, leaving no room for discussion.

The Matra look at each other, none of them willing to speak up. After a few beats of awkward shuffling and terse silence, Cyno's demeanor grows colder.

"Tell me what brought all of you here," he says, chillingly quiet. "That's an order."

The Matra stand straighter. A woman--the person lingering at the door, as well as one the bravest among his subordinates--takes a step forward. She can't quite meet his eyes.

"The Grand Scribe has been reported missing for... quite awhile now. The Matra were asked to take over the case just this morning."

Cyno stares at her. His tongue feels numb, his fingers grow cold.

"...Alhaitham?"

It's obvious who they meant. No one else holds that title. But Cyno needs to hear the name, needs that last bit of confirmation. The Matra nods her head, and the rest look away from them, a pained wince escaping them.

"Who assigned you the mission?"

"The Dendro Archon herself. Lesser Lord Kusanali had wanted to wait for your return, but the situation was growing urgent so..." She trails off. Even her seems to run out of words for him.

Cyno clenches his fists, and takes a step forward. His feet are surprisingly steady. When he's sure his legs won't buckle, Cyno marches past all the frozen Matra, past the door, and into the unwelcoming silence of that familiar house.

A building doesn't change when its occupants are absent, and yet Cyno feels like he's wandering through a completely different place. There are no signs of Alhaitham; no half finished books on the couch, no dirty mugs at the table. His absence is tangible, and it's already settling on top of his breastbone. It robs him of his breath for a long minute.

"What are the current theories?" Cyno forces himself to ask. "Kidnapping? Assassination? He could also be fleeing from a crime."

"That's the thing, we... don't know."

Cyno pauses in his inspection of the living room. He turns to the Matra watching him and narrows his eyes.

"Explain yourself."

"The Dendro Archon tried to get in contact with him. Uhm, with her powers. She can't reach him."

She couldn't reach him. The Dendro Archon can connect with the mind of any Sumeru citizen. Yet, she couldn't reach him.

That isn't possible,unless the person is no longer--

Nahida should be able to talk to him. Alhaitham was--

Cyno's heart slows to a crawl. He's painfully aware of the sound of his own breathing.

"What's the list of suspects." Electricity sparks around him, shocking the tip of his fingers. Cyno can't feel the pain of it.

"We don't know! We don't know anything! General Mahamatra--""

"I'll deal with this myself," he growls, voice not entirely his own, "get out."

She watches him, chin raised defiantly. Her mouth hangs open, as if she still has something to say. At the end, no words are uttered, and she storms out of the house with tears in her eyes.

He paces through the house, mind racing. If there was a sign, a clue, anything-- he needed to find it. He needed to *think*. Alhaitham would know how to leave a message behind, if this was planned at all. It was unlikely that man would ever be caught unaware. He'd never disappear without a trace. There had to be something--

Then suddenly, a distant memory. Something that felt like a different life altogether now. Whispered again his forehead like a blessing: "If you get lost in the desert, you should look at the stars."

Without fail, Alhaitham would always repeat these words whenever Cyno left for a mission. All this time, he had thought of it as a nonsensical prayer.

Cyno rushes to the library, heart in his throat. Look at the stars. He gazes upwards.

The ceiling is decorated with the traced lines of constellations, Lupus Aerus at the very center. Nestled among its strokes, there are small scribbles engraved into the stone. A mix of the scripts of the Abyss, the old Desert language, and current day Sumerian.

Something that couldn't even begin to be deciphered by anyone other than a well studied linguist.

Something that couldn't be read by anyone other than Cyno.

There, clear as day, it says: "We'll see each other again." For the first time that morning, Cyno inhales a full lungful of air. He closes his eyes for a moment, forcing his muscles to relax. Cyno takes exact five seconds to savor his relief. Then, he's off. The Matra watch, bewildered, as he walks right past them.

"He's not dead," Cyno declares firmly. "Inform the Dendro Archon I've taken over the mission and I'm currently in search of the Grand Scribe. This takes absolute priority. All other missions--"

"General," that woman interrupts, her gaze unyielding. "Are you sure?"

"...All other missions shall be in your hands. Unless there's an emergency, I won't be coming back until the Scribe is found." He nods towards her. "He's not dead. Are we clear?"

"Of course, General." She smiles a little. "Good luck. May the stars guide you."

The similarity of her words is haunting. Cyno swallows the lump in his throat.

"They will," he whispers.

#cyno #alhaitham #cytham #haino #genshin impact #drabbles #my writing

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bonniebird · 1 year

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Aemond x Fem!Reader

Requested by Anon

Valentine event

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Made up dragon for request named Sepheron :)

The rain gave you more cover than you needed as you hurried out of the castle. You managed to weave your way through a long line of corridors you’d mapped out in your mind as you prepared your escape.

You managed to sneak away to the very edges of the Red Keep. Then, narrowly missing being spotted by some guards you slipped through a gap in the gate that you had made over several months. You’d spent so long planning your escape that it had not been terrifying. It had not dawned on you that fleeing could end up with you locked away or killed. Knowing that you could not turn back you went on. While it would be quicker for you to go straight up the street of looms you knew that there would be guards patrolling that way. If you wanted to make it to the dragon pit without being caught and sent back to the Keep you would have to head through alleyways and occasionally cut across The Hook, Rose Road and through an alleyway in Flea Bottom to get close enough to the part of Street of Sisters that connected to the Dragon Pit.

As you reached the steps of the Dragon Pit you pulled your cloak tightly around your face as you hurried forward. The doors were still open and you didn’t have long before they would be closed for the evening. The night had deepened as you had travelled across the city.

“You! Stop!” You heard as you managed to get inside and slip away to a side passage. You knew that they wouldn’t follow you down to the depths of the Dragon Pit so you paid them no mind and hurried onward. You carefully made your way to your dragon.

Your dragon was large and silvery. Not as big as Vhagar by any means but bigger than Dreamfyre but nowhere near as large as Vermithor. On a cloudy day, you could not pick Sepheron out for the clouds. There had been an uproar when you had seemed to tame the beast Sepheron that had roamed around the seas for years. But no one planned on trying to change his mind so that was how things stayed.

Sepheron raised his head as you quickly worked to free him. You could hear voices echoing around. You could hear the gentle sound of dragons being roused as well. Climbing up into the saddle you gave orders to leave in a shaky voice. Sepheron wasted no time hesitating and bolted to freedom. As soon as he was up into the open space he started to take flight. The doors had begun to close but he just made it through as shouts and cries filled the air.

You had no clue where you would go now you were free. In all honesty, you hadn’t expected to get this far through with your plan. For a while, you guided him a little way north but then hesitated, doubting there would be anywhere you could go that way. The rain fell hard over Sepheron’s back but you held on to the saddle and let him lead the way. As long as he didn’t stop near Kings Landing you were more than willing to let him decide where to go for now. You realised as you let him decide where to go until the storm cleared, Sepheron was heading in the direction of Driftmark or Dragonstone. Perhaps Lord Velaryon or Princess Rhaenyra would take pity on you, you thought to yourself. Perhaps they would allow you to fly off across the narrow sea.

You’d been in the air long enough that your eyes were growing heavy and the cold bite of the storm had numbed your face before you noticed something was wrong. The rain above you suddenly stopped but when you looked around you could still see the storm raging. Sepheron tilted and tipped the two of you seemed to try and evade something. When you looked up and saw Vhagar illuminated by lightning you realised what was happening.

There was a large forest up ahead that stretched for miles. With Sepheron’s size, he should be able to manoeuvre closely to the trees and get lost in the storm as he was hard enough to spot without a storm. Vhagar wouldn’t be able to manoeuvre so easily to follow after you. The plan worked and the cover Vhagar provided from the storm subsided. As Sepheron reached the coast you thought that you were free. Until the sky exploded with dragon fire and Sepheron had to pull up abruptly to avoid both of you being burned.

"You're fleeing the castle under the cover of darkness?" Aemond called. His voice whistled around the wind and seemed to come from all sides. “You will not get away.”

Your dragon landed heavily on the cliffside and refused to move. His head tilted up watching the sky carefully as he made nervous noises. You wouldn’t force him onward. Not until you were sure you both had an advantage that would let you get away unharmed. You could hear his laughter before you spotted the shape of his dragon landing not too far from you.

“Will you not get down to we can speak civilly?” He called out.

“I find myself comfortable where I am.” You said trying to sound firm and strong.

“Would you not be more comfortable back at home?” He pressed again. Aemond walked towards you with no fear even when Sepheron growled deeply at him. “You will catch a sickness out here in the storm.”

“I shall be fine.” You tried to keep emotion from your face as you stared him down and waited for him to back away. But he stopped closer than you’d like and smiled at you.

“You are not safe out here alone.” Aemond continued. His arms were folded behind his back and he swayed arrogantly back and forth on the balls of his feet.

“I was perfectly safe until you attacked us.” You spat out and moved in the saddle ready for Sepheron to take flight if he felt he should. That movement caused Aemond to move as if he was suddenly uncertain of what you would do and if he could react in time. “Did you think you would scare me into coming back to that prison?”

“A prison? You would not survive outside of the castle walls.” Aemond insisted and sounded somewhat offended.

“I will not be returned to the eighth hell. Seven Hells is a bad enough thought but it brightens my mind when compared to…” You were cut off by Aemond who sounded as if he were scolding a child.

“You are asked to do a duty expected of any woman. You can not flee because you do not want to do it… it is expected.” Aemond began to sound a little defeated at the end and your face twisted with anger.

“Helena has done her duty. The future usurper has his heirs. The greens have the power and position that they desire. Why must I marry some old man? I do not want to be taken from the sky.” You now sounded like a child that needed scolding but it seemed to soften Aemond who tried rather hard not to look directly at you as you sniffled and sank further into your saddle.

“They will not allow you to become a withered spinster.” Aemond send more gently this time. He looked down at his feet as if ashamed that he had not thought that you were being taken from the sky. He scuffed his feet before adding. “I will speak with them.”

“They will not hear you.” You warned.

“I will not allow them to make you feel imprisoned. Things will change. I can make them change if you just come back with me.” Aemond began to sound as young as his years and he suddenly looked quite small and meek as you watched him carefully.

“Liar!” You snapped. His face hardened and you shook your head. “If that were true you would have wed Helena. Not even the favourite may interfere with the schemes for power.”

“That was different! That was not something I could change but I could change this. Allow me to try.” Aemond was pleading now as he looked up at you, dangerously close to your dragon who seemed to sense his sincerity and let him a little closer.

“I cannot go back with you! There will be no chance! I will have no chance… they will give me no time to flee and you shall have no time for pleas and begging.” You watched as he thought about what you said and seemed defeated.

“Fine.” He said quietly. The wind hung his voice in the air as he turned his back. You quickly urged Sepheron on until he was off the edge of the cliff and flying against the storm. He turned towards Driftmark and you hoped that you would be greeted with acceptance at the very least. The rain stopped as Vhagar flew over you but this time she made no move to set you down, only leading the way due to her massive size. As you approached Driftmark she turned and went back the way she came.

When you arrived you were immediately escorted inside to find Lord Corlys and Rhaenys waiting in their night clothes.

“You’re later than we thought you’d be.” Corlys said as he excused himself to make sure Sepheron was safely set away with Meleys.

“You were expecting me?” You asked with surprise.

“Well news of the wedding plans for you spread and we imagined that you would try to get out of it. Leaving you with those people…. I will never understand. We would have had you hear but no he would not hear of it.” Rhaenys rambled on leaving you to guess at what she was cross about but you were so relieved that they accepted you that you didn’t press your luck by asking. “You know you cost me three gold pieces.” Rhaenys muttered as she led you to a room that was made up for you.

“I did?” You asked and she smiled as she patted your hand affectionately as she guided you to sit in front of a lit fire with you while dry clothes were found.

“Oh yes. He had five pieces of gold on you arriving after the storm… I had five on you being here before. If you arrived during the storm he gets three and if you had arrived I would have gotten three.” She chuckled when you smiled and seemed amused. “Though neither of us imagined that green beast would follow you this far.”

“Aemond has promised to speak with them… to try and get a better deal. They told me once I was wed I would not be able to take Sepheron with me.” You mumbled and Rhaenys scoffed.

“Well. We’ll see what negotiations that weasel of a man gives before you have to go back.” She assured you. She continued to complain about Otto for several more minutes until someone hurried into the room to say they had found some clothes for you and she left you to retire for the evening.

It took half a year, Corlys and Rhaenys joining the negotiations on your behalf and Aemond threatening to leave Kings Landing and stay at Driftmark, something that Corlys complained about for weeks before he arrived, to even have Otto consider changing his plans for you. In the end, he budged, though you got the feeling Alicent had come down on him as well.

You would return. You would return. You would marry. But this time It would be Aemond that you wed.

Aemond tags:

@the-caravello-post @killing-gremlin @aegonandaemondtargaryenslut18 @lchufflepuffcorn @geekyandgay98 @lightqueen16 @savagemickey03

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #bonniebird #valentine2023

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priceof-freedom · 2 years

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Drabble: Savior in a hat (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x F!Reader (Outer Range)

Summary: With your engine dead and heavy downpour, this could be the worst day ever. However, the fates didn’t seem to completely hate you since it sent you a savior in the form of Rhett Abbott.

A/N: My humble contribution to the growing Rhett Abbott fandom: the one bed trope! After reading all the wonderful Rhett fics, I wanted to give it a try myself. I hope you guys like it!

Not beta-read, so errors are entirely my own.

Word Count: 845

MAIN MASTERLIST

When you woke up this morning, this was not where you expected to be.

“Got only one room,” grunted the grumpy motel receptionist.

You blanched and froze. “Oh— um…”

Earlier that day, you traveled to another town about two hours away to pick up some materials needed for the renovation of your barn. It had been much cheaper for you to get them yourself instead of having it delivered, thus the need for a long trip. The drive there wasn’t much of a problem, but you couldn’t say the same for the drive back. Your trusty old truck decided to throw in the towel: with a final sputter, the engine died and left you stranded on the side of a long stretch of road. To make matters worse, it started raining.

The fates didn’t seem to completely hate you since it sent you a savior in the form of Rhett Abbott, the younger of the Abbott boys. He was driving back to Wabang from god-knows-where when he spotted the hazard lights of your truck blinking off the road.

Despite the dirt on his jeans and worn out flannels, he looked every bit like a guardian angel standing in the rain under an umbrella, offering to drive you back to town. The flashing lights cast a glow on his handsome face beneath his hat, one that you’ve admired from afar since you were a teenager.

Too bad your luck seemed to run out: not long after you hopped into Rhett’s truck, the downpour turned unforgiving. With zero visibility and slippery roads, both of you decided to wait it out until it was safer to head back.

That’s how you ended up in an old motel in the middle of nowhere, seeking shelter for the night. And you were facing yet another problem you didn’t anticipate.

“I’ll sleep in my truck,” came the quick response of Rhett.

There was nothing on his strong features that said it was a disingenuous offer. For all the faults of one Rhett Abbott, and there were quite many if you listened to whispers of people of Wabang, you couldn’t deny that he was actually a gentleman.

“We’ll take it,” you announced to the receptionist, much to the surprise of the man beside you. The receptionist grunted again and handed you the key.

Naturally, Rhett started to protest, but you stopped him. “Rhett, it’s fine. I’m not about to let you sleep in your truck with it raining cats and dogs.”

He smiled and tipped his hat gratefully at you.

Upon entering the room, you landed yourselves in another predicament. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, to be honest, but the room had only one bed. Neither of you acknowledged it. Instead, you asked, “Mind if I head to the bathroom first?”

“Go ahead,” he said, looking every bit as anxious as you were.

The hot shower did little to calm your nerves. The closer you got to heading back to the room, the more the reality of your current situation was sinking in. Just on the other side of the bathroom door was Rhett Abbott. You tried hard not to consider the possibilities of where this might lead, actively forced your brain not to go in that direction, and it just left you with your heart racing.

When you exited, you found the room in a slightly different state. Lying on the tight floor space by the door was Rhett, head on one of the pillows he took from the bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Rhett, why are you on the floor?”

“So you could have the bed,” he said simply, like he was wondering why you were even questioning it.

The frown on your face softened instantly. Apparently, the gossiping town folk have never seen this side of Rhett. In the short amount of time you spent with him today, he was nothing like they said.

“No.”

“No?” he repeated, propping himself on his elbows. You tried to ignore the way his biceps moved under his thin white shirt.

“The bed is big enough for the both of us,” you answered adamantly.

This was how you discovered, hours later, that Rhett Abbott was a cuddler in his sleep. Yet another thing that you did not expect from him. You had woken up in the middle of the night to a loud crash of thunder, and you found a strong arm wrapped around your waist. Warmth was radiating from his body as it was pressed against you, with his breath tickling the back of your neck. Instinctively, you sank further into him.

Thunder boomed again outside. A small squeak escaped your lips, both at the loud sound and at the tightening of the arms around your middle. Still asleep, Rhett gathered you closer to him. Whether he was aware of it or not remained to be seen. You’d just have to deal with that in the morning when he woke up.

What was clear to you was that given the choice, you’d never leave the safety of his arms again.

A/N: Am not 100% satisfied with this, but it helped me get into the writing mood. I might take a stab at a smutty morning after follow-up to this one. If the inspiration strikes!

Please do leave a comment and reblog. 💖 My ask box is also open for prompts for headcanons / blurbs / drabbles!

Currently, I do not run taglists. I might in the future. :)

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #outer range #outer range fanfic #lewis pullman #drabble #fanfic

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artdecosupernova-writing · 2 months

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OC Kiss Week Day 2: Rain

WIP: WASTE Pairing: None Timeline: so this is interesting. for whatever reason I've decided to take a totally canon event and write it in a completely different POV cuz I had a beautiful vision idk call my lawyer about it CW: Death, minor drug mention Rating: T Words: 1,480

***

I pride myself on being a level-headed woman. I pride myself on having the ability to stay focused under duress, and to maintain an air of confidence and wisdom that maybe I don't feel inside at times.

And very rarely does something happen to rock me to my core and shatter that illusion into millions of pieces.

I found myself sitting beside a shuttle pilot, tense and on edge because in the days leading up to this rendezvous—capturing one of the galaxy's most notorious criminals, leading to possibly the biggest victory in the careers of several individuals including myself—I felt in my gut that I had to be there. I had to be present and in the trenches, I had to see this out first-hand against the advisement of my peers.

The tip was, as I'd come to trust, that Oren Altavian planned to make a scheduled drug drop-off with a paltry two lackeys to guard him as he posted for a while on Earth. Two bodies was an unprecedented low number for the kingpin, who normally traveled with no fewer than a small troop of military disappointments wherever he shipped himself. He'd gotten comfortable on Earth, and it looked as if it were shaping up to be the slip-up that would get him off the streets for good.

We had to intercept him seconds after the exchange. Timing would be crucial; any sooner and we'd have nothing to pin on him, and any later and Altavian would disappear once again into the ether.

I strapped on a layer of armor and made sure the other operatives did the same before the shuttle landed. Eight of them, a good fraction trained by the Aerospace Force. Formidable soldiers armed to the teeth and prepared for everything and anything to go wrong.

The drop-off coordinates led us to an abandoned warehouse on the side of a lengthy highway to and from nowhere. Pouring rain. Slippery, muddy ground and puddles making our approach less than totally covert. We landed a distance away to not draw attention, and I grabbed a shotgun as the operatives began to file out of the shuttle.

"Recon the warehouse," I said to them via the comm in my armor collar. "Give the all-clear before taking a cover position. I want everyone spread out."

"Copy," everyone murmured individually. Montgomery, Neallson, Unssue, Yamin, Lorrie, Fitzhugh, Hermann, Rescho, all gave their callsigns and confirmation.

Neallson went in first to check the warehouse. He, Rescho, and Lorrie all reported the building clear. It wasn't a very big place, but it was large enough and full of enough broken-down shipping equipment and old containers that we had ample cover while we waited.

I took my position outside with Unssue behind a pile of aluminum crates, taking advantage of the ideal angles I could see of both possible entrances.

We waited for a long while, in rain that battered and cleared up and battered again, which we anticipated as the exact time given was unclear even to my trusted source. With nothing to accompany us but the sound of the deluge and the occasional vehicle driving up and down the highway, I peered around the corner of a crate and kept an eye on the stretch of shadow hugging the cliff face across the road. I couldn't help but feel that something was there, watching us.

Unssue nudged me with her elbow and nodded toward something on the ground beside us.

A cord? Some kind of wire? It looked to have been partially buried, and the rain washed away most of the dirt packed onto it. Oddly straight, trailing to the warehouse and through the door nearest to us.

I turned away from the direction of the highway. "Anyone in position by the back door?" I whispered into my collar.

"Yeah," said Montgomery. "Got eyes on the door."

"There's a wire leading into the warehouse. Where does it go?"

Radio silence for a moment or two. Unssue frowned.

"...It leads to a pressure sensor," Montgomery said. "...Rescho's standing on it."

"What kind of—"

The unmistakable sound of small aircraft—sky runners, decked in military-grade weaponry—cut through the rain and through my concentration. They found us fast, zipping practically around the drops to get to us.

Unssue was the first to fire at one of the manned vehicles converging on our positions...she was also the first to die. She went down a foot away from me and I could do nothing for a moment but stare in shock and horror.

"Fall back," I managed to wheeze into the comm, though the spray of bullets sliced through the warehouse like a red-hot knife. "F-fall back!"

"Delegate!" Lorrie cried out, and I could hear him from inside the warehouse. "Neallson's—Hermann and Yamin are down, we have to—Delegate DeCosta, get the fuck out of here! NOW!"

I jumped to my feet, about to rush in, when the entire ceiling of the warehouse imploded and collapsed on itself. Waves of mud and debris showered me, and I dove behind the crates to keep myself hidden from the destruction and the runners. Flaming bits of warped metal and stone fell to the ground around me, the hissing of the smoke and the sharp, tangy stench of chemicals and rain and then...

Unnerving silence.

I almost didn't dare move. I didn't hear the runners anymore, but I also didn't hear anybody else. With mud on my face and armor, I moved to talk into my comm.

"...S-sound off." I reached for my shotgun, which had fallen beside Unssue. "...Anybody."

Not a single reply.

Unssue told me as I recruited her for the mission that she looked forward to seeing her parents again, as this would be her big hurrah before leaving the Consortium and going home.

Neallson mentioned something the other day about reconciling with his ex-partner. Montgomery had four grown children. Yamin was also close with their family, Lorrie and Fitzhugh wanted to see where things went with each other, and like the others, Hermann and Rescho were damn good soldiers and people.

I got to my feet and shambled to the rubble. Shotgun clutched tightly in my hand, I peered around for any sign, anything to tell me any of them were alive. I dug, I shoved, I pulled apart...I couldn't move the pieces of rock and metal myself, called in for an emergency rescue effort.

I didn't know why I was limping at the time, but I staggered through the front door and stood on the side of the highway, gun in hand and no feeling left in my body. I glanced down at my leg to find a negligible piece of metal shrapnel sticking out of the shin, and when I raised my head again, something across the road caught my attention.

A pulse of purple light. Slow. It took my eyes several moments to adjust.

A man sat on a motorcycle, staring at me, a lazy purple light breathing in his temple, indicating activity from his SCOT. Guetry Sympa, the best operative the Consortium had ever hired, the best I'd ever hired, straddling his idling electric bike and watching me in the shadow of a cliff face.

Guetry Sympa, the former romantic partner of Oren Altavian. Guetry Sympa, whose parting ways with the drug lord was famously difficult and taxing on him emotionally and mentally. Guetry Sympa...the man who'd tipped me about the drop-off.

My chest hollowed out. I couldn't make out Guetry's face that well, but I knew he could see mine. Nothing made sense. He'd told me in person that the drop-off was happening. He'd had a lead and he shared it with me. He anxiously awaited the day Altavian would be locked up or taken out, and he didn't seem too concerned over which one happened first. I knew him as a survivor, a champion of strength and wherewithal when things turned abysmal for him from every angle.

Through the rain, I started to see him better. He had his arms folded over his chest, the invisible weather protection shield emanating from his bike keeping him dry, and I watched him bring his hand to his mouth, poised with his fingers over his lips...

And he blew me a silent, emotionless kiss.

And then everything came crashing down around me. Guetry revved up his bike and zoomed away faster than I could process. I raised the shotgun at him, knowing it would be pointless, that he was already out of range to begin with, that I had nothing to prove that he was behind this, that I would never have anything to prove he was behind this, that I was going to make sure I never let him out of my sight again.

I was going to make sure he never forgot the people whose trust he betrayed.

#ockiss24 #WASTE #hahaha I don't have a lawyer I am poor :3c #the problem here is that it works so much better in this POV than in the actual canon whoops

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anarchywoofwoof · 7 months

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I don't remember being 6.

I remember the blood draining from my mother's face. I remember the way her fingers felt as she attempted to grasp onto the reality of the moment by way of my shoulders. I remember the frantic phone call, screams accusing betrayal, and consternation over lasting effect - albeit short-lived, mind you. I remember the melodrama. Allegedly, time heals all things, and silence soothes. As faulty the plot, so too the premise; the relentless ticking of the clock like a rhythmic shield masking the intrinsic chaos.

I don't remember being 8.

I remember the way the front door sounded when it slammed shut. I could easily differentiate between the various slams of each individual door in my childhood home. Furthermore, I was able to discern — judging by the force behind the slammed door — whether there was genuine reason to worry. Whether the circumstances necessitated my involvement or if it was simply another fleeting moment of displaced anger manifesting itself in theatrical exits or entry.

I don't remember being 12.

I remember how the tires squealed on the pavement as they pulled away. I remember the contentious dinners that followed, blame to pass in every direction. I remember the confusion on her face. I remember the messages sent each June 14th, unrequited, and rightfully so, the memories simply too painful and complex to bear witness and lay testament to.

I don't remember being 16.

I remember the distance. The sheer number of miles between my bedroom, everything, and everyone else, mostly myself. I remember the desperation, the longing for understanding and community. I recall yearning for something greater than red and blue walls, cigarette smoke, and bridges to nowhere. I remember the urge to shatter the confines of everything familiar to me. I remember my own naïveté, which perhaps wasn't so clear to me then.

I don't remember growing up. I don't remember the roads that lead me here. For so many miles, I slept to avoid the storm. So so many miles. And now that I've arrived, I don't know where I've been. I know that I'm here, and I know that the storm is behind me for now, and I have to embrace the light. But I mourn for the journey. There are few stranger feelings than traveling 10,000 miles and waking up in a land you no longer recognize, unsure of why you ever left to begin with.

#text #trauma #cptsd #prose #tw trauma #tw cptsd

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farmerlarrry · 11 months

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Orange Slices (Joel Miller x f!reader)

masterlist | chapter two | chapter one | read on ao3 | playlist

story summary: A story about finding companionship and love in the midst of chaos.

a/n: **updated for mistakes**

word count: 4298

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Chapter Three

Tommy had been right, the following days were long and grueling. There was little luck finding any supplies as most of the rest stops along the highway had been picked over pretty well; just the occasional can of food was found underneath a pile of broken pieces of wood and trash, or a collapsed shelf. Every time you and Tommy left a building, usually without finding anything, he’d tell you the one thing he was happy about was that this run wasn’t about food. They were pretty well stocked in Jackson, growing what they could according to the season. They have goats, cows, chickens; multipurpose livestock is what he referred to them as. Canned food was mainly kept for the winter and emergencies, as a backup if the crops failed or something happened to the animals. Thankfully, we haven’t run into any issues so far, and Joel and I are usually pretty lucky, scoring a few more each run to add to the stash. The whole point of this supply run was to find things to enrich the community—clothes and books. More importantly, medical supplies such as medicine and bandages. You found out Tommy set up a trade in Denver, it was a lot further out than he wanted to go, but he decided to take a chance on it. These people needed food, and Jackson needed pills and other medical supplies, which they supposedly had. Unfortunately, when he entered the city, he was ambushed, resulting in him having to ditch the truck to escape safely. He confided in you that he had the feeling that the attack was actually the group just trying to get free shit. He was upset that they succeeded. If Joel had been there, Tommy shook his head, they wouldn’t have known what was comin’ at ‘em.

The thing that has sucked the most during this journey is the lack of coverage, Tommy often expressed his anxiety over this fact. Sleeping in the shallow ditches was about as much coverage as there was at night, only to be walking out in the open by day. The side of the road had been flattened, offering nowhere to run or hide unnoticed if something were to happen. The main worry wasn’t infected, they don’t stay in low-populated areas, the main worry was other people, especially since you were following a main road between states. Tommy said he would feel better walking through the woods or at least sleeping there at night, however, he didn’t feel confident enough to do so, Joel had always been the one leading them through heavily forested areas. The last thing we need is to get lost, Tommy told you, always with a nervous twinge in his voice. The only thing keeping you going is the car that’s supposed to get the three of you the rest of the way back to Jackson. Your feet are pretty beat up from your shoes not being broken in before going on such a long trek; blood has seeped through your socks, now leaving behind dry, hard brown splotches.

The trip from Fort Collins to where Joel is waiting for Tommy was only supposed to be a day and a half at most by foot, at least according to Tommy, however, you guys are now on your fourth day due to some unfortunate happenings. The second day was honestly the roughest, Tommy fell asleep the previous night while on watch, he didn’t sleep the night before but insisted he was fine and urged you to get some rest. With your luck, there had been a group of people traveling through; something must have alerted them of your presence, even though Tommy was careful to camouflage yours and his things in the thick brush on the side of the road. You instantly awoke to the clicking of one of the gun’s hammer and twigs snapping beneath their feet. The two of you booked it into the forested area a few yards from the side of the road, and the group of men tried chasing you guys down, firing shots in your direction. Luckily, because of how dark it was, they quickly gave up. You overheard one of these guys yell in the distance to the others that it wasn’t worth getting lost over. Unluckily, though, due to the darkness, Tommy tripped over a large tree that fell, banging his shin up pretty badly. It took you a while to find him, only having the sound of his whispered voice guide you to him. When you found him, unsure if the men were still following you, you pulled him into a bush at the base of a tree. For the rest of the night, the bush was where you both stayed, only sharing hushed whispers when you were sure the group had finally taken off.

When the morning came, you got a better look at the damage Tommy had received. His shin had a deep gauge, and dried blood stuck to the hair on his legs, clumping it together. His knee looked all sorts of fucked up, and he couldn’t straighten it out completely. You were no doctor, but you could tell that his kneecap was definitely not where it was supposed to be. You helped Tommy wrap up the gouge with a bandage as best you could with what he had.

“Thank God I have my emergency oxys” He shook a small zip-lock bag before downing the pills, taking a larger dose than he honestly should’ve taken. You let out a nervous laugh, worried about what the rest of the trip might bring.

Although he swore he couldn’t feel a thing after a while, he still walked with a severe limp. Not long after trying to find a way out of the forest, Tommy found a long stick that he used as a crutch. That seemed to help him quite a bit. The rest of the day had been spent trying to find a way out, thankfully, you had been walking straight towards the road, so it didn’t set you back too much. It could’ve been a lot worse, like walking in the wrong direction; neither of you wanted to say it out loud, but that was the truth. Now, all you can think about is how you can’t wait to reach the cabin, you keep picturing a small wooden house in your mind, getting closer, and closer with each step.

Apart from yours and Tommy’s misfortune, you do have to admit you were happy to be out of the city. Not only was there less of a chance of running into infected, but there were also a lot fewer areas that required your gas mask; every time you had to put it on, you felt like you were on the verge of passing out due to the lack of pure oxygen. Out in the open, the cordycep spores couldn’t linger like they could in the basements of buildings and other dark, secluded areas. It had always haunted you that you could turn a corner and unknowingly walk right into the spores, only realizing it after it was too late.

“I have to be honest with ya’,” Tommy says, breaking the silence that had ensued for the majority of the day, not hiding the concern in his voice. “I’m worried Joel won’t be there when we get there.”

You both come to a standstill, mirroring each other’s stance: hand on one hip, mouth agape, eyes squinted due to the brightness of the sun. Tommy stares at you with a defeated look as you bring your hand up to your forehead to further shield your eyes from the sun.

–

While on your journey to Wyoming, Tommy shared a fair amount of information about his brother Joel, however, he didn’t go into too much detail. Just the normal stuff someone would share about their sibling with a new friend, you suppose. Joel is older than Tommy by four years, making Joel 41 years old (earlier, Tommy told you about the celebration the community held for his 37th birthday before he and Joel departed on their outing). He expressed the stubbornness of Joel, most of the time making him out to be an asshole, but Tommy loves him regardless, partly because of the guilt he feels for all the shit he put Joel through both before and after the outbreak. All they had left from before was each other. He's always been kind of like this, life was... hard, for the both of us, more so for him, I realize now, but after outbreak day, the shit that happened...I worry about him, I really do. Tommy expressed, you saw the sadness in his eyes when he told you this. He kept his gaze averted from you. Tommy also told you about himself, although he said he didn’t have anything that interesting to tell you. He told you a little bit about himself before the outbreak, he grew up in Arlington, joined the Army when he was eighteen, and did some time in Operation Desert Storm during the Gulf War. After he was discharged, he joined Joel’s business as a contractor and ran various jobs with him. He also told you about his girlfriend back at the community; he knew of her for quite some time, but they officially met a few years ago at a community gathering. His eyes light up every time he mentions her. Joel isn’t the biggest fan of her, not because of who she is, but because he thinks it’s stupid to get involved with anyone given the state of the world. She’s a fine woman, Tommy, but you can’t protect her from the world, there is no guarantee you or her will be alive tomorrow, Tommy mocked Joel . He seems hurt about not having his brother’s approval, and as much as you feel for him, you kind of agree with Joel. You don’t understand why anyone would be open to that kind of pain and suffering if anything were to happen.

At this point, Tommy and Joe had been out for about two and a half weeks, separating after the first week because Joel wanted to go one way, the opposite way Tommy had planned. I went over the plan with him before we left, multiple times, and regardless, I’m not surprised the tough-headed son-of-a-bitch decided to go off by himself once we were far enough from Jackson; it completely makes sense now why he insisted on taking two vehicles instead of just one. Tommy told you, making it very apparent that it annoyed him. For Tommy, this has been the longest he’s been gone since joining the community, and his girlfriend was very hesitant about him going. She’s going to freak out when she sees me, Tommy told you with a small laugh and kicking his injured leg out.

Of course, Tommy asked questions about you, too. However, you mainly focused on your life after the outbreak; you weren’t the same person as before, and there was no point in talking about her. She’s a ghost of the past, someone who is now a stranger, even to yourself. The only thing you told him from before was that you were attending an all-girls boarding school in Texas and that you were 16 at the time of the outbreak, which is how you ended up at the Houston QZ. You also told Tommy you originally planned to head east because you had some family out there. Man, Joel and I went to Boston for a bit, stayed at the zone... tough shit it was out there. He changed the subject after, giving the impression he picked up on your cue that it wasn’t something you were willing to expand on. You appreciated that. You continued to share more of your story, including how you went from Houston to Denver with a group of people, leaving alone to head north. You told him more about a small group of survivors at the apartment building and the attack, which is why you were out alone just before the two of you met. He looks at you like you're some sort of miracle, unable to fathom how far you’ve made it, mostly on your own with next to no supplies. As he expressed his amazement, you thought to yourself, If only he knew what you had to do to get to where you are today, and all that you lost.

“Now you are one that Joel has to meet,” he continued. “You are a badass, missy. You know that?”

You both laugh in unison, you feel somewhat guilty for forcing yours. Tommy is a good companion, he’s a great person to talk to, and he’s kind. You like Tommy.

–

“Really?” You respond to Tommy’s uncertainty, taking a step towards the edge of the now familiar highway, kicking at the loose rocks and tarmac, your left hand reaching into your front pocket and grabbing a hold of the green stone, rubbing the smooth surface with the pad of your thumb. “What makes you think that?”

Tommy’s face twists up, taking a moment to think before responding.

“One thing I didn’t tell you earlier,” Now sounding defeated. “Joel is known for leaving, running away from the people around him because he just won’t fucking open up about whatever's going on in his head. Just got him back too long ago.”

He’s looking down at one of his hands, picking at the skin around his nail bed.

Tommy began to tell you how he and Joel stuck together when everything first happened, meeting a woman named Tess along the way and inviting her in. When they got to the Boston QZ, just as he had said, everything was so fucked up, which made him pissed off. He eventually left to join the Fireflies, I just wanted to help liberate what was left of the world from those FEDRA bastards. He heard they had been looking for a cure and decided he wanted to be a part of the search . Joel wasn’t happy with me at all, but I couldn’t sit there every day workin’ my ass off for little to no payout. Tommy didn’t last long with the Fireflies, it turned out they were just as messed up as FEDRA, so he left again, not knowing where to go, and headed west. He ended up meeting Maria and her dad, which is how he found out about Jackson.

A few years later, Joel and Tommy found each other again. Tommy brought him back to the community, walked him through Jackson, and showed him everything it had to offer. Although it was small at the time and still needed improvement, it was a lot better than what the world was like beyond the gates. The fucker left a few nights after I brought him in, just leaving me a note telling me not to come lookin’ for him. Then the cycle began, he came and went a few times after that, returning to Boston under the guise that he couldn’t just leave Tess there. I know that’s not the reason, I practically begged him over and over again to bring Tess with him, she was family at this point. Tommy gave up on the idea of him and Joel ever truly coming to peace with each other, so he gave up trying to make him stay, started focusing on the future of Jackson, and building a life of his own. He showed up again... five, maybe six months ago, however, something was different about him this time, I still can’t put my finger on it, but he’s different. So far he’s stayed, but… Tommy left it at that.

“Tommy,” you sympathetically start, but he quickly cuts you off.

“Whatever happens, happens, you know?” He abruptly says after clearing his throat, quickly wiping his eyes, secretly hoping you don't notice. “Gotta get you back to the community to meet everyone.”

Tommy takes a few steps towards you with a smile on his face, the lines around his eyes showing more prominently now. He puts his hand on one of your shoulders and squeezes it for a short moment, before beginning to head down the road again.

Since Tommy showed you the photos of the place in Jackson, you'd been meaning to ask him more about it, he’s told you bits and pieces of information, mainly at night when neither of you could sleep, but you were eager to know more. You wanted to know everything about this place that would soon become your home. Before, you were scared to ask questions about it, you convinced yourself in your mind that there was no way Tommy was being serious about you being welcome to join. Now you felt it was the perfect time to get his mind off of Joel, and he gave you an opening. Gotta get you back to the community to meet everyone.

“Hey Tommy,” Your voice is a little louder than you meant it to be. He must have felt some sort of urgency in your tone, causing him to abruptly stop, turn his body towards you, and furrowed his brows together.

“What’s up?” He asks in a soft, concerned voice, bringing his brows together as he speaks.

“Tell me more about this place, would ya?” That glimmer of hope ignited in the center of your chest once again.

Tommy starts with how friendly the community as a whole was; it is now home to more than twenty families, including Charles and his two kids. It was safe as they had people on watch at all times of day and night, and besides that fact, life was pretty much normal within the wall, almost as it had been before the outbreak. He did tell you about the occasional issue that arises with the bandit group that lives on the other side of the dam, however, they rarely have the upper hand in the fight. Maria and her father had originally founded it; you remember the photo of Tommy shaking a man’s hand and a woman standing off to the side, and you make a mental note that it was Maria. They desperately wanted to find a way to follow how life used to be. The key to Jackson’s success was the North Teton Dam, a hydroelectric dam that generated power for the community. There were greenhouses to grow crops, something that turned out to be very successful, as well as livestock, as he told you about earlier. Children were able to grow up without fear, going to school, playing with their friends, watching movies, and reading books. For the most part, everyone lived in peace. There were people of all ages, and people felt secure enough to create families. Everyone works together, whether it’s helping in the greenhouse, teaching children in the school, or helping out in the kitchen. Wherever help was needed, people were there. There’s a medical center, and while it does need some improvement, it gets the job done, Tommy is usually the one who makes sure it is well stocked with the help of Joel since he’s been back. There’s no such thing as public beatings, very few things are punishable by death, though they have yet to have a situation happen that would result in that.

“Sounds amazing, ” you say, enamored.

“Well, we have our issues occasionally,” Tommy runs his hand down the back of his head, “‘bout as normal as things are gonna get. Think of it as one big family, there are issues at times, but we always manage to pull through. There’s a place for everyone, really. I think you’ll find your spot quite quickly.”

Tommy nudges your arms, before pointing off into the distance.

“You see that?” He’s still pointing, as you strain your eyes, squinting them. “Off to the right of the highway.”

You can’t tell what he’s pointing to until you come up the road a bit more.

“Is that,” you trail off, Tommy picking up on what you were going to say.

“Yep,” He starts walking a bit faster, with much more pep in his step than before. “It’s just down that dirt road.”

Tommy is practically running, as best as he can, down the road. You quickly join in, just as eager to get there, although for a different reason.

The farther down the dirt road you get, Tommy starts calling out to Joel, you fall behind Tommy as the back of your heel is now stinging with an immense sensation of pain, you are running with a slight limp. The cabin had come into clear view. It was made out of dark wood, parts of the external framing were falling apart, and the front left window had been smashed in, but other than that, it looks like it is in okay condition, enough to offer a safe place to stay for a little while.

“Joel?” Tommy calls out once again.

The front door swings open, hitting the wooden wall behind it; a man, a little taller than Tommy, appears in the doorway. Joel, Tommy breathily mutters under his breath and smiles. Joel begins jogging toward Tommy, meeting him in the middle before embracing him in a tight hug. Nothin’ like brotherly love, you think to yourself as you watch the two.

“It’s about goddamn time, Tommy.” Joel declares, sounding slightly annoyed, but there was a sense of relief behind his tone. “What the hell happened to you?”

You gaze behind the two, noticing the beat-up station wagon sitting just to the side of the home. The front windows are down about halfway and the back is propped open, you notice the back is full of some sort of fabric, most likely clothes and blankets, canned food, piles of books, and a large tank of water that could probably last the three of you for a week.

“Sorry, brother,” Tommy says, letting go of Joel and taking a step back. “Got caught up in some shit, had to leave the truck...”

As Tommy is explaining what caused his delayed return, you and Joel make eye contact. His demeanor instantly changes; his brows furrowed together, a sinister look resonates in his dark eyes. His body language is practically screaming, who the fuck are you? Tommy had yet to pick up on this shift and continued talking before finally mentioning you.

“Joel, she’s an absolute badass,” he brags in a playful tone, patting Joel on the back while turning towards you. “This is my brother Joel, who I’ve been telling you about.”

Tommy was right, Joel is an ass. The pure look of disgust on his face when Tommy introduced you to him. You’re not sure what to do, it’s not really accustomed nowadays to shake hands and exchange ‘ nice to meet you’s’, not like Joel seems pleased to meet you anyway. Usually, when people greet each other now, it’s with a gun to the head and a swift kick to the ribs. Although, his expression sort of conveyed that if Tommy weren’t here right now, you'd be getting a good ol’ ass kicking.

“It’s, uh, it’s nice to meet you,” you stammer, breaking eye contact with him, feeling intimidated by his presence. Tommy glances between your faces, finally picking up on Joel’s feelings and rounding his shoulders, dropping the smile he previously had.

"C'mon, man, don’t be like that,” He slightly whines, following Joel, who is now heading in the direction of the vehicle.

Now feeling awkward, you follow behind, keeping a distance, eventually making your way over to the steps that lead up to the porch of the cabin.

“Woah,” Tommy exclaims, causing you to look up from the ground. “Looks like you hit a gold mine, do I want to know what you did to get all this?”

Tommy’s tone changes to a much more serious one when questioning Joel. Joel is leaning up against the side of the car with his arms crossed, he has a devilish look on his face.

“Don’t worry about it,” He's now looking Tommy directly in the eyes. “What’s done is done.”

A look of anger washes over Tommy, and Joel quickly reacts with a chuckle, pushing himself off from the car.

“I’m joking,” He rolls his eyes, and he walks over to Tommy. “Went through a lot of different places, a lot easier and quicker when you actually have a car... and not injured.”

Tommy shoots his hands up in protest, Joel’s comment obviously hitting a nerve.

“How was I supposed to know I was going to be ambushed, and then fucking jumped?” He shouts, Joel is now laughing much harder, starting to mock Tommy’s facial expressions.

“That’s what happens when you decide to live in this magical dreamworld, little brother,” Joel harshly says before looking at you, “You get sloppy and make stupid decisions.”

Ouch.

They continue bickering as they make their way up the three steps onto the porch. Joel passes by you as if you didn’t exist,

Tommy softly pats you on the head and gestures for you to come inside and join them as he one-steps his way up the porch steps. He has a few cans of food in his hands, it’s hard to see the faded labels, but it looks like canned green beans and some sort of stew. Your nose crinkles when you see the stew, is that shit still even good after all these years?

You take one look up at the sky, the sun is quickly fading, you no longer feel as optimistic as you did earlier, and a sense of anger washes over you.

Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him. You think over and over again.

read chapter four here!

painting divider | credit: @cottage-writings

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #tlou #joel miller x you #joel miller angst #joel miller x oc #orange slices #farmerlarrry #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x fem!reader

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scattered-debris · 5 months

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#FFF229

A/N: yay for first submissions. (just realized time zones make this late whoops--regardless). I had seen a post on here discussing the Scott Pilgrim comic, which had a clip of Ramona explaining the concept of subspace highways to Scott. I wanted to riff on the idea, so here's that.

"Well, are you sure this is the way?"

"I mean, I think so, this is what the map says."

"The map has been glitching out ever since we got it! It told us to get off of Sub-I-A where there wasn't even an exit, and that was a highway. There's no way it's going to know where a subspace road is."

"We'll just have to feel it out then, won't we? Put our academy lessons to good use."

"Ugh, you know I hated those exercises, especially that one. Like--"

Hands spread out in front of them, or they would've if they had actual hands in this sub-cranial region. This motion was lost on Everett, who also could not see Jamie's hands (or lack thereof).

"--there's nothing here!"

The statement rang out into nothingness. Or really, rang out into Jamie and Everett's temporary neural link they used for communicating, and at a volume a touch too loud for Everett's liking.

"We'll be fine. Here you go first, and I can help get you started."

Jamie stepped out ahead of Everett. Thankfully, they had a sense of where the other was, but that luxury was only in place so they didn't drop into each others subconscious. It took far too long to convince their boss it was a necessary mod to install. Unthankfully, the sense of each other was about the only sense they got. Once, little underlings had asked Jamie to describe what they saw when travelling through someone else's subconscious via subspace highway, not knowing that it was a question neural scientists had been debating about for the past four sub-cranial conferences. Jamie had answered, "Uh, gray?" before the little underlings sighed and moved on. Really, Jamie thought subspace travel looked like how white noise sounded, but hadn't been able to articulate that very well on the spot.

"Ok, so right now, you're on the road. Can you feel it?"

"No, Everett."

"Then take a step to your left, you'll be off of the road. Can you feel the difference?"

"Not really?"

Everett sighed inwardly. Jamie heard it.

"What does it feel like to you, Everett? Maybe that will help. Here you go." Jamie stepped back. Everett stepped forward, and pacing left and right slowly, humming.

"It feels a little clearer-- being off the road, surprisingly. Like, when I'm off it, I have more of a sense of where I'm going, what I'm doing. When I'm on the road..." Everett paused, then started again. "I mean, think about it: the whole reason subspace travel works is because we're relying on people's neural pathways to move around. We're stuffing our consciousness into theirs for a brief period of time, and the particular neural pathway we end up using might not line up with ours. So everything gets all hazy, ya know? Nebulous."

Jamie said nothing and stepped forward. The subspace input jumbled in Jamie's head. It was everywhere, like getting full-body pins and needles while watching TV static and listening to white noise. It caused an odd, simultaneous feeling of nothingness, nowhere-ness, to Jamie, what they imagined floating in a sensory deprivation tank would be like. They felt Everett cringe at the image. But underneath all the input, Jamie felt (saw? heard?) what they hadn't before. If those underlings asked again, Jamie would say now that it felt like a river. An extremely subtle, but stubborn current, a silent riptide that would lead Jamie...somewhere. Jamie could guess where they and Everett would end up, but the current was certainly unsympathetic to it.

"It's funny. It's kind of contradictory when you think about it. A road is a defined means by which to travel. It's not a trail, or a footpath, it's something established. But this one is hazy--nebulous, like you said-- and it's existence, what sets it apart from the rest of the subconscious for us, is its very obfuscation. A subspace road is a freakin' oxymoron."

"Huh!" Jamie felt Everett's consciousness return next to theirs. "Yeah, you're right. I didn't even think about that." What Jamie guessed was their heads both looked out onto the road.

"Well, whatever. Come on, let's go. A road doesn't stop being a road, no matter how confusing it is, and we gotta get to the next sub-cranial region."

@flashfictionfridayofficial

#fff229 #flash fiction friday #writeblr #nebulous roads

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romeoandjulietyouwish · 11 months

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in these walls (beauyasha week day 2)

Prompt: home @beauyasha-week Read on ao3

At the end of a long, winding road is a house.

The house is old, overgrown with vines and the plants that must have been confined to the gardens now overflow into the yard and over the brick path leading to the porch. Some of the windows are broken, some from storms, most of them probably from neighboring kids. The unbroken windows are clouded with a thick layer of dust or shuttered against the wind.

The wrought iron fence and gate are creaky and bent in places, the plants starting to swallow them into the earth. The boards of the front porch are warped and broken, the stain all but washed away. And even through the grim and plants covering the house, the faintest bit of blue siding can be seen.

This is a house that is full of stories, as all houses are. It has been long since abandoned, but still stands against the wind and weather to deliver its stories to anyone brave enough to open the door. There aren’t many people like that anymore, people are much happier to wait and stay where it is safe than to venture into the unknown.

The second Beau sees it, she knows that this is the one.

She can so clearly see Yasha tending to the garden on a spring morning. She can see Imdrin sitting in the bay window, doing his homework. She can see Cricket running about the whole place, her footsteps echoing through the whole house. She can see their family living here happily.

It’s big enough to host the Mighty Nein and their families and it’s close enough to the city that Beau won’t need Caleb to teleport her to work anymore.

She and Yasha have had it in the back of their mind to start looking for a new house, big enough for the kids as they grow and to act as shelter for their friends when they need it. Yes, it will take lots of time to fix this one up, but it’s more than worth it to her. The second she tells Yasha about it, she is completely on board.

Later that week, Beau and Yasha sit the kids down in the living room. “So,” Beau begins with a smile, “your mom and I want to ask you something. How would you two feel about moving into a new house closer to the city? It’s going to be bigger and with an even bigger yard.”

Imdrin’s face slowly starts to break into a smile, “Would I be able to go to school in the city?”

Yasha nods, “You would and so would your sister. And it would mean your uncles Caleb and Essek get to visit more often.” Immediately Imdrin lights up, as the only other drow he knows, Imdrin has grown incredibly fond of Essek. And though he almost never says it, Beau and Caleb both know how good talking with Imdrin has been for Essek.

“What do you think, Cricket?” Beau asks, turning to their daughter. Unlike her brother, Cricket doesn’t seem convinced, in fact she seems incredibly concerned. Instead of answering the question, she gets off the couch and runs to her room, the door shutting behind her with a soft click.

“I’ve got it,” Yasha says, ghosting a hand over Imdrin’s hair as she follows Cricket upstairs to her bedroom.

Cricket’s door is covered with drawings, one Imdrin drew of a cricket sits right in the middle. Yasha approaches quietly, rapping a single knuckle against the door. “Bug? Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” Cricket responds softly.

Yasha slowly pushes open the door and scans the room. Cricket is nowhere in sight, but Yasha knows her daughter well enough to know her hiding places. Which is why she just sits against the wall beside the bed, knowing Cricket has tucked herself underneath it.

“You know, long before I met your mama, I was part of a tribe that traveled all over. We were hardly ever in the same spot for more than a month. So I know that moving can be scary-”

“Not scared.”

Yasha smiles fondly, though Cricket can’t see her. “What are you then?”

Cricket is silent for a long moment and Yasha can hear her fingers tapping against the floor as she thinks, “I’m nervous.”

“Why?”

“Leaving this house means going to a new one and then a new one and then there aren’t any more houses and then we’ll have to live in the mud. And you’ll have to leave me behind.”

Yasha is stunned into silence. As long as they’ve had Cricket, they’ve never been able to find out much of anything about her past, which led her to being alone in the Mudtop Ward. They had assumed she didn’t remember. It is clear as day that she does now.

“Cricket, can you come out so I can see you?”

Cricket sighs softly, but Yasha shortly hears her moving along the floor until her head pops out from under the bed near Yasha’s knee. She smiles and helps Cricket out, sitting her daughter down in front of her.

“You don’t have to worry about that. We’re going to be in the new house for a long time, I promise. And we’re never ever leaving you or your brother behind, okay?”

Cricket sticks her pinky towards Yasha with a serious look. Yasha links hers around Cricket’s and squeezes.

As the summer progresses, Yasha and Beau spend their days at the new house, tearing out floorboards, putting up wallpaper, fixing leaky taps and creaky steps. Despite the hard work, it’s very fun to have time together without the kids. More than a few times as they’re working, Yasha can’t resist pulling Beau into a kiss despite the paint or plaster on their hands.

And on their last day of work, the day before they show the kids the house the first time and move in, the two of them find themselves standing in the kitchen with content smiles. Beau leans into Yasha’s side, pulling her partner’s arm over her shoulders.

“It looks amazing,” Yasha says breathlessly. “They’re going to love it.”

“They better,” Beau laughs and Yasha pinches her shoulder playfully. “Seriously though,” Beau turns around and loops her arms around Yasha’s neck, standing on her toes to press a kiss to her lips. “This is fucking awesome.”

Yasha chuckles against her lips, “It is. It’s our house now and you know…the kids are with their uncles tonight.” She kisses Beau, forcing her to tilt her head up. “And I don’t think this house has been properly christened yet.”

Beau smirks, meeting Yasha’s eyes full of lust, “I think we should get to that then, don’t you?”

“My thoughts exactly,” Yasha whispers as she trails her lips down Beau’s neck.

#beauyashaweek2023 #beauyasha week #beauyasha #critical role #mighty nein

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heyiwrotesomethings · 2 years

Text

Tamayo the Fugitive

Lady Tamayo x They/Them Reader

A/N: Just a fun little attempt at giving Tamayo’s origin story more meat. Also just trying to give her more love because she deserves it. Tried not to make Tamayo seem like a vampire but she basically is anyway so yeah. Word Count: 4,200

After years under Muzan’s thumb, Tamayo had finally managed escape and break his curse over her. She had nowhere to go, no one to confide in. She was utterly alone, but after all she had done, she thought it a fitting punishment.

Yes, Tamayo was finally free. She was free and it was deathly terrifying. She was constantly on edge, traveling city to city, village to village to stay off of Muzan’s radar. She had been on the road for only two months, but her refusal to kill more humans, having no shelter and no one to confide in was really taking a toll on her. What could she do? She refused to lay hand on another human and crawling back to Muzan would surely lead to a fate worse than death. She would sooner lay out in the sun than return to that monster anyway.

Currently, she was sitting within a dark cavern waiting for the sun to dip below the mountains so she could continue on her aimless journey.

From deep within the damp, musty cave, she watched the the sun reflect upon the rippling surface of a nearby pond. Her mind became blank while watching the water dance for hours and lap upon the matted wild grasses and reeds that covered the shoreline. It was the most at peace she felt in all her time a fugitive, in all her time as a demon in general, honestly.

She closed her eyes and let her head sway along with the breeze that billowed in from the mouth of the cave and listened to the bugs and frogs, as well as the occasional splash and trickling of water. It was almost enough to make her feel normal.

She hummed and the sound rung deeply within the cave, despite not being projected loudly at all. Liking the way the sound buzzed in her ears, she continued to hum an outdated melody and imagined the last several decades as nothing more than an awful nightmare. She would wake up beside her husband, he would comfort her and their children would come running and pile on top of them.

No tears, no blood, no life taken too soon nor elongated to unknowable lengths. Just her and her family for whatever time she would have had left with that dreaded disease that had made her so desperate for a cure in the first place.

Her humming harmonized with a higher tone and she startled. A laugh that was not her own echoed around her. She looked to the mouth of the cave to find a person crouched there, a sheepish grin on their face.

“I’m sorry,” they chuckled, “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I heard your music and I couldn’t help but join in. The acoustics in there are surprisingly good. I could hear you from the water.

“I see.” Tamayo answered stiffly. She didn’t want to come of as rude, but the warmth radiating from the person even with the distance between them promised, hot, delicious blood and tender flesh. Having not eaten in two months, she did not want to entertain the temptation for long.

“Well, you carry on and don’t mind me. I’m just gathering some wild onions and mushrooms around the water. I just wanted to stop by and tell whoever was sitting in here that they had a very pretty voice.”

“Thank you.” Tamayo blushed.

The stranger smiled and stood up again, stretching noisily. They walked back down the path until they were level with the opening of the cave and turned to give Tamayo a friendly wave before continuing on.

Tamayo felt strange for staring, but there wasn’t much more to do while waiting for the sun to set. She watched the stranger return to their basket and bunch up the clothing around their legs so they could wade in the pond and sort through the vegetation.

She traced their form and watched them work, smiling when they got excited about a larger than average onion or found an unexpected tuber they didn’t expect to find so close to the water’s edge. She even had to suppress a giggle when they slipped on something below the water’s surface and fell in, their basket and raised forearms the only thing they managed to keep out of the water they were now fully sat in. They didn’t let that bother them though, they simply put their basket back on the shore and rung out their clothes before beginning their hunt for mushrooms.

Tamayo wasn’t sure when she had begun humming again, but it felt appropriate so she continued. Watching this person go about their day in the warmth of the sun that caressed them so gently, it made her feel warm as well. Surely, she thought, they must be quite a special person. She mentally wished them the best, hoping that brightness would never be tainted or broken as long as they lived.

As she watched them toss mushroom upon mushroom into their basket, Tamayo’s eyes closed and she committed the moment to memory. Something more she could think back on when the road got too lonely or the weather too brutal or the hunger too consuming.

She could feel the light from the cave’s entrance fading, the light behind her eyelids withdrew, leaving her in darkness rather than a film of pinkish orange. The environment was quieter now, so dusk couldn’t take much longer to fall.

Her eyes blinked open and she looked out upon the water. The person who had been gathering there and their basket were nowhere in sight. They must have gone home while Tamayo was resting her eyes. Good for them, it was dangerous at night anyway. Though she was a bit disappointed despite it.

As the last rays of sunlight fell below the horizon, Tamayo scooted out of the cave. Her plan was to keep trekking on until she made it to Tokyo and then she would try building a semblance of a life there.

She rejoined the footpath and continued in the direction she was heading the night before and nearly forty-five minutes into her walk, she heard a rustle and a pained grunt that sounded like it came from the brambles in the ravine below.

Curiously, Tamayo peered over the side of the eroded trail, a loose pebble she kicked free tumbled down below with a quiet rattle.

“Oh thank the gods, is someone there?”

A scratched up hand popped up from the brambles, making Tamayo jump.

“Are you hurt?” Tamayo called, wringing her hands together. She really should keep going until the next village popped up and have them deal with it, but who knew what kind of demons were already lurking around for their next meal?

“Mostly just stuck I think. This is so aggravating! If you could slide down carefully, you might find my hunting knife and cut through some of this stuff.”

Tamayo did as instructed, inelegantly sliding down the incline on her butt until she got to the bottom. She caught a glint of the knife in a nearby bush and snatched it up, carving a path to the hand still sticking up into the air.

“Oh, hey! It’s you!” The voice from the brambles exclaimed, “You’re a real life saver, Miss Musical Cave Dweller!”

Tamayo freed the scratched up gatherer, baffled that they could still look so happy despite the awful spill they took however long ago.

“…You’re welcome. What happened, if I may ask?”

“Walked too close to the edge I guess. Ground broke right out from under me.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Tamayo swallowed. The smell of the human’s blood was sweet and very alluring.

“I’m good. My basket has seen better days through.” They sighed, retrieving the crushed basket from the brambles. “Aww, my mushrooms are, well, mush.” They chuckled warmly, giving Tamayo goosebumps.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I wish you luck on the rest of your journey home.” Tamayo turned and looked back up at the steep hill she would have to crawl up and sighed inwardly. It would not be a very lady-like climb.

“Don’t worry about climbing back out that way. The ground will even out eventually. You are going this direction, right?” They pointed.

Tamayo nodded hesitantly and the gatherer smiled, ushering her along. “Great! I’ll lead the way then. This is actually really good. Safety in numbers and all that. Oh! I’m (Y/n) by the way.”

“Tamayo.” The fugitive found herself sharing without thinking.

“Tamayo-san, a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” (Y/n) complimented seriously. While Tamayo’s cheeks burned at the notion, (Y/n) continued onward. “I trust you live nearby, it’s a little late to have been planning to walk around the woods by yourself.”

“Yes, I live nearby.” Tamayo lied. It would only complicate things if she came off as a young, homeless woman with nowhere to go.

(Y/n) gave her a curious look, but kept whatever they were wondering to themself. They guided Tamayo out of the ravine and they walked until the stars were visible in the sky.

“How much further?” (Y/n) asked casually as they walked on, giving Tamayo pause.

“Pardon?”

“You said you lived around here. I just want to see you get home safe before I head home too.”

“Um,” Tamayo blinked rapidly as her mind raced for a plausible excuse, but kept coming up empty, “um…”

“Hey, it’s okay.” (Y/n) spoke softly, “I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that, I’m sorry. It’s just… you seem like you could use some help.”

Tamayo looked away and pressed the back of her hand to her lips in an attempt to keep her emotions in check. (Y/n) was trying to look out for her. Her, a demon so underserving. A hand gently rested upon her back.

“You look tired and worn. When was the last time you had a hot bath or slept in an actual bed? Had a good meal?”

Tamayo shuddered and pulled away from (Y/n)’s touch. The offer was tempting too, tempting, but (Y/n) didn’t know what they were inviting into their home. It would be unfair to take advantage of their kindness.

“I won’t make you spend the night, but come clean up and take some supplies for your journey at least.” (Y/n) persuaded.

The wind blew and carried the scent of (Y/n)’s blood towards Tamayo and she broke.

“Okay… thank you.”

“No problem, come on. We’ll only have to back track a little bit.”

Tamayo followed after (Y/n) and felt a sense of guilt wash over her. She wouldn’t kill them. She promised herself after she escaped Muzan that she would never kill again, but she was so hungry… she would wait until (Y/n) was asleep, take just enough blood to take the edge off and then leave.

“Alright, come on in. It’s not much, but it’s home.”

“It’s cozy. Homey.” Tamayo looked around and hummed appreciatively though she may have been a bit biased after being on the road for so long. It was nice. “Do you live alone?”

“Yup! Just me. Well, and Chachamaru of course.”

“Chachamaru?”

“Mow.”

Tamayo looked down to find a small kitten rubbing its sides on her ankles. She knelt down instantly to give the kitten’s fur gentle pats, cooing softly when it rolled onto its back.

“Sweet thing, isn’t he? I found him alone in the rain a couple weeks ago. I’ll get the bath ready while you two get acquainted.” (Y/n) watched the cute scene a moment more before ducking out of the room.

When (Y/n) returned, they guided Tamayo to the bath and told her to take her time before leaving her alone. Tamayo relished in the hot water, silently berating herself simultaneously. She didn’t feel she deserved this kindness being bestowed upon her. (Y/n) even set out a fresh kimono for her with a lovely red floral pattern against a deep blue. She put it on, and stepped out of the bathroom to find (Y/n).

“In here.” They called out to her.

She followed their voice, and the faint scent of blood, and found them setting up dinner. She thanked them and ate what she could stomach, wishing that the lovingly made food would do anything to stop the hunger she possessed.

She insisted on doing the dishes and when she saw (Y/n) struggling to clean their cuts, she helped them with that too. It was the very least she could do, and she really meant least.

“(Y/n)-san, if it really isn’t too much, I would appreciate it if I could stay the night.”

“Of course you can. Let me set up a room for you quick. You must be exhausted.”

Tamayo barely managed to keep her smile in place long enough for (Y/n) to leave the room. She looked down at Chachamaru and pet the kitten’s soft fur in an attempt to ease her nerves.

(Y/n) showed her to her room, bid her goodnight, and then left to go to their own room.

Tamayo laid in the dark, honing in on the sound of (Y/n)’s heart from across the hall. When it slowed in a manner indicating sleep, Tamayo forced herself out from beneath the soft comforter and crept out into the hall. She slowly slid the door to (Y/n)’s room open and knelt at their side. She took (Y/n)’s arm in her hand and leaned in, carefully reopening one of the small cuts she had cleaned only a few hours before.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered before her lips moved in for a taste. It would take some time to feed from a cut so small, but Tamayo had to pace herself in fear that she would go too far. She was still getting use to life outside of Muzan’s control.

“As long as you’re being careful, I don’t mind.”

Tamayo ripped herself away from (Y/n) in a heartbeat, not stopping until her back hit the wall. Before she could try to scramble away with several apologies falling from her lips, (Y/n) called after her.

“You don’t have to be scared it’s alright. I wasn’t really expecting this, but it’s okay!”

Asking a demon to not be afraid of a defenseless human? It was laughable! Not to mention completely backwards. She should have been telling them that, but it would be a lie. Who wouldn’t be scared of being snacked on by a demon?

“Tamayo-san, hey, it’s okay, just breathe.” (Y/n) made their approach, slowly sliding towards her on hands and knees.

“I’m sorry. I— I’m sorry!“

“Try to relax. I’m not upset with you.”

“How could you not be?” She rose her voice, disgusted with herself.

“You are a good person, Tamayo-san. You just need a little help.”

“I’m not.” Tamayo sobbed. “I’m not even a person!”

“Don’t say that!”

Tamayo was surprised by the sudden outburst. They sounded almost angry at the notion.

“You are a person, a kind person who hums to herself, helps strangers out of brambles and patches them up, and seems to really enjoy the company of cats.” (Y/n) scooted closer, “And that’s only what I managed to learn about you in a handful of hours. I bet you have more amazing qualities just waiting to shine through.”

“I don’t. I’m a monster.” Tamayo didn’t know what else this human needed to see to realize that much.

“The monsters are the ones that stay with him and heed his orders without a care.” They replied, surprising Tamayo.

“You know what I am? You know of…” She was still uneasy with speaking Muzan’s name though she had broken the curse. Even thinking of him weighed heavily on her mind.

“I tried becoming a demon slayer for a time. I wasn’t cut out for it. Even Kakushi work didn’t seem possible for me I’m afraid. I was always pretty good at sensing demons though.” They explained. “You threw me for a loop honestly. I hadn’t sensed a demon like you before. No bloodlust or sinister intentions. I wasn’t even completely sure you were one until just now.”

“I’m sorry to say your senses were wrong about me. The reason I had decided to spend the night was nothing but sinister.”

“Demon’s don’t often care to be as gentle and life preserving as you were, in case you forgot. It’s a hunger that you cannot erase, and it’s not exactly an easy thing to ask someone for. I don’t think I could blame you for that.”

Tamayo simply couldn’t understand this person’s kindness towards her. A person who had attempted to become a demon slayer no less. (Y/n) brought their arm to her face, causing Tamayo to look away in shame.

“You need to feed. You might really hurt someone if you don’t.”

She didn’t want too, but they were right. She had put off gaining nutrients for too long already. Slowly, she turned.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know. It’s okay, take what you need.”

Tamayo didn’t need more persuasion and she loathed that. She took the offered arm, lapped up the streak that had fallen in her absence and then finally latched on to the small wound.

(Y/n) jerked a bit, but when Tamayo’s eyes darted up to meet theirs, they reassured her to keep going. Though Tamayo still felt hunger gnawing at her, she pulled away when she knew she had taken more than her fair share. She didn’t want to take too much and make (Y/n) pass out.

When (Y/n) began to take their arm back Tamayo kept the limb in a gentle, yet firm hold.

“Let me clean this, it’s the least I can do.”

“Thank you.”

It amazed Tamayo how they still managed to smile so brightly at her despite everything. She ducked her head down and darted out of the bedroom to retrieve the necessary supplies.

“You are really good at this.” (Y/n) praised as Tamayo tied off the wrappings.

“When you live as long as I have, you pick up on things.” She replied sullenly. She felt awful. How was she possibly going to settle down anywhere with these cravings? She would have to aimlessly wander the country until the world ended.

She had already overstayed her welcome here, but daylight would soon be upon her again. She didn’t know if there would be enough time to make it back to the cave for the day. Nevertheless she said,

“I should take my leave now.”

Before she could even take a step in the direction of the door, (Y/n) took her by the hand.

“You should stay. Daylight isn’t far off. Besides, you need a game plan.”

“Game plan?”

“You don’t want to wander around for eternity, right? If you want to find a place to settle down, you need the tools to make it happen.”

“I don’t think I’ll be suited for such a life as I am. Pardon me for saying, but it won’t matter what tools I have at my disposal.”

“And pardon me for saying this, but I think you’re wrong.” (Y/n) said with a conspiratorial smile. “I believe you have more power than you think.”

As it would turn out, there was much more to (Y/n) than what met the eye. They showed Tamayo to a secret passage below the reinforced floor of an unassuming closet and led her to a small laboratory tightly packed with books and supplies. Some piles even reached the ceiling of the tight space.

“Sorry for the mess, not a lot of room down here, but I wanted to have a space that wouldn’t be easy to find or destroy.”

“What is all of this?”

“A few years ago, my family was slaughtered by a demon. That demon being a family friend who we had tried to shelter. He lasted about three months without blood before he lost himself and killed everyone.”

“I’m so sorry.” Tamayo gasped behind a dainty hand. So much pain, yet they still wished to help her. It was a lot to take in.

“It was awful. He remembered himself after the frenzy he went into. When I got home, he stayed only long enough to apologize and stepped out into the sun.”

Tamayo shivered.

“I didn’t know what to do with myself. I was so angry and heart broken. So, I tried to join the demon slayers, the Kakushi, but as I told you before it didn’t pan out. I felt as if they had forgotten that demons were humans once too. I thought my time would be better suited trying to find a cure than spending time trying to eradicate a continuously growing problem.”

“A cure?” Tamayo marveled. She hadn’t even considered the possibility. If medicine had changed Muzan’s body, surely another could change it again.

“I have nothing substantial yet. I must admit, I’m not much of a scientist, but I have compiled a lot of research on the matter. Whatever you might know about Kibutsuji could provide useful too. You seem to have a knack for medicine as well.”

“I’ve dabbled over the years…” Tamayo modestly replied. She had been interested in medicine even before she had became a demon. (Y/n) seemed to notice the downplay and an amused huff of air left their nose.

“Okay Doctor Tamayo, let me give you a tour.”

***

Twenty Years Later

Tamayo hummed to herself as she warmed the tea when a furry body brushed against her ankles.

“Good Morning Chachamaru,” she smiled, bending down to pet the cat, “Is our (Y/n) waking up too?”

“Mow.”

“Morning.” (Y/n) spoke through a yawn. When Tamayo rose back to her full height, they draped their arms over Tamayo’s shoulders and kissed her forehead, making blush. She still wasn’t used to their displays of affection.

“Good morning, I made tea and miso.”

“I see, thank you very much. It’s so cold today.” They yawned again and snuggled closer, making Tamayo laugh.

They had come so far in those twenty short years. They felt like a blink in time for Tamayo and in a way, they were. In those years, she stayed as untouched by time as usual while (Y/n) grew older. It made her envious as well as concerned.

They still hadn’t made much headway in finding a cure. It weighed on Tamayo sometimes to watch (Y/n) grow older while she stayed the same.

“You’re thinking I’m old again, aren’t you?” (Y/n) pouted, squeezing Tamayo’s cheeks.

“No…” Tamayo could never tell (Y/n) a convincing lie to save her life.

“What was my hardworking doctor working on last night I wonder.” They noticed the sheepish look on Tamayo’s face and kissed her cheek. “You wouldn’t have to worry about me leaving you behind if you focused on the cure over trying to find out how to turn me into a demon.”

“I know, but I’m so much closer with understanding the science of demonification. I was able to turn Chachamaru after all. He’s as spry as he was when he was a kitten.”

“Okay, I’m older but I’m not hobbled old cat old.” (Y/n) joked. “I think I’ve got another good forty or fifty years in me.”

They then saw a sorrowful look cross Tamayo’s face and they held her closer, letting her bury her face in their shoulder.

“It’ll be alright,” they comforted, “Even if I don’t see the day a cure is developed. You keep working hard, okay?”

“I don’t think I could do it without you. I really don’t.” Tamayo sniffled, “I’ve already had to lose so much. I don’t want to lose you too,” she pulled back slightly, “If I do figure out how to turn humans, would you let me?”

“Then who would you get your blood from? Where would I?”

“We’d go to Tokyo like we talked about and buy blood under the guise of using it for transfusions. There are more opportunities in the city, as you’ve said. Perhaps we’d learn more there than we could here. There is so much innovation in the cities, I’m sure we could find something.” Tamayo spoke passionately, (Y/n) watched her continue reasoning with adoration until they motioned her to quiet herself.

“If you do figure it out, as I am sure you will my clever doctor, then I won’t leave your side for as long as the earth spins. We both know what it’s like to lose all too well. For you, I will stay if that is what you desire.”

“Of course.” Tamayo squeezed (Y/n) tight. A life as a demon was a lot to ask someone for. She would take full responsibility. Should the time come that they would pass on, she would take any repercussions for her choices with her head held high. “Thank you.”

Tamayo’s gaze shifted shyly between their lips and eyes, a cautious and silent question that was soon answered when they closed the distance between them.

Tamayo would figure out how Muzan spread his disease and how to destroy it one day, but for this morning all she wanted was to be held and fantasize about a normal life with (Y/n) a little while longer.

As they swayed in each other’s embrace, the tea and miso growing cold, Tamayo hummed a peaceful melody and (Y/n) harmonized along, reminding the demon doctor of an craggy cave and a weedy pond on a warm summer’s day.

#kny oneshots #kny x reader #demon slayer oneshots #demon slayer x reader #lady tamayo x reader #tamayo x reader #lady tamayo #kny tamayo

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