Tumgik
#A Winter Storm’s Tale
midnottart · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media
🐍 Angry little Jotun boy • AU: it's hard getting used to a life in Asgard when you grow up as a wild child in Jotunheimr
399 notes · View notes
phoenixduelist · 6 months
Text
Hey you know what? Posting this. @wintermulitplied
Tumblr media
Jack and Rozy has many parallels to Calypso & Davy Jones.
I think we can say that Jack is quite similar to Tia Dalma/Calypso in terms of nature: he's fickle, playful yet his emotions are vast, deep and consuming (see the almost cold blooded murder of his -speculated- former lover and soulmate Barbossa). It's so easy to drown in him because he's a lot in both meanings. This is why many misunderstand, misinterpret his actions and gestures, thinking something into grand gestures and failing to pay attention to the small ones carrying more meaning.
Rozy is a monster in human skin. She has her tender moments but that doesn't absolve her sins at all. She doesn't have a pet sea monster to tear ships apart: she has a battle ram and a row of iron spikes to tear into the hull. In some aspects she's worse than Jones as she doesn't give the other party a choice between joining her or dying.
The crucial difference: Rozy fully understands what/who Jack is and fell in love with all of him.
If Jack was Calypso and Rozy was Jones; if he didn't show up when they agreed on she would be worried whenever he got into trouble or understanding that the God of the Seas have responsibilities and doesn't operate in the human timeline, instead of rage leading to betrayal.
Davy Jones romanticized the seas' 'best' traits while overlooking the worse ones, he fell in love with an idolized image HE created about her instead recognizing Calypso as she is. Rozy never would've made that mistake.
So there's a man representing the sea in every meaning and a monster who loves, understands him unconditionally & fully.
4 notes · View notes
downthewishingwell · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
When the house is quiet.
Inspired by the story "Infinite Jest" by @qarl-grimes
Images found on Pinterest
25 notes · View notes
g5mlp · 1 year
Video
youtube
Looping video clips are now available on Spotify for the Winter Wishday soundtrack album.
7 notes · View notes
Text
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M, Multi Fandom: Critical Role (Web Series) Relationships: Orym/Dorian Storm/Will | Orym's Spouse, Orym/Dorian Storm, Orym/Will | Orym's Spouse (Critical Role), Dorian Storm/Will | Orym's Spouse Characters: Dorian Storm, Orym (Critical Role), Will | Orym's Spouse (Critical Role) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Acceptance, Getting Back Together, Fresh Starts, Trapped, Forced apart, Love, Fairy Tale Curses, Winter, Freezing, Near Death Experiences, Freedom, Established Relationship, Falling In Love, Bad Parenting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending
Summary: Life and death are two parts of a whole. When death is ripped away from life, the world is plunged into eternal winter. That is the only world Dorian knows, until he finds a frozen halfling in woods. When Dorian learns his story, he promises to reunite life and death once more.
Fic Preview
“Orym! I, uh, accidentally made the flowers wilt again.” A much shorter man than the one gingerly holding a brightly colored vase of dead flowers stepped into the kitchen with a fond smile. 
“Hand them over.” The instant his fingers touched the vase the flowers brightened to vibrant green stems and white petals that glowed gold along the edges. “There we go. All better. I told you I can handle moving the vases.”
“I know. I just wanted to do something that wasn't watching you do all the work. I thought the gloves might help, but obviously I was wrong about that.”
“You help plenty. Let me handle the flowers. You always look like a sad puppy when you kill them.”
“I don't mean to! I've never gotten the hang of plants.”
3 notes · View notes
vavandeveresfan · 1 year
Text
My bus didn’t show up while I was waiting at the stop in the snow storm, so it was 55 minutes until the next one.  My toes literally hurt by then.
On the upside, while waiting I wrote a significant portion of my fanfic’s next chapter in my head.
3 notes · View notes
autobot2001 · 7 months
Text
Proven Wrong
Sicktember one-shot 3/6
Fandom: N/A Characters: Caretaker, Whumpee Prompts: Day 6; Preventative Measures (Not Taken), Day 10; "The only place we're going is to the pharmacy", Day 11; Beginner's Guide to Faking Sick, Day 12; Old Wives Tale Day 18; "Wear Your Coat, You'll Catch a Cold" Warning: None
Whumpee loves playing in the snow. They don't care if most adults only play in the snow with kids. Caretaker sometimes would join Whumpee, but they often stay in the house. They like seeing Whumpee excited about the season's first snowstorm like a child.
"They say two feet of snow dumped last night," Caretaker says while cooking breakfast, "you're eating first." Whumpee is more eager to go outside for the day.
"Wear your coat. You'll catch a cold," Caretaker argues, seeing what Whumpee is wearing. "I'm wearing three layers. I'll be fine," Whumpee argues, "besides, that's just an old wives tale." Whumpee leaves the house before Caretaker can say anything else. They'll be back in an hour. Caretaker believes, noting it's ten in the morning. They decide to start making homemade soup.
Ninety minutes pass, Caretaker stands before the stove with a pot of soup. Caretaker thought Whumpee would be in the house by now. They try not to worry until they realize they didn't ensure Whumpee wore gloves and boots. Should I worry they might be in the early stages of frostbite? Caretaker questions. They wait another thirty minutes before going to find Whumpee.
Whumpee sits on a log, shivering and too cold to move. Even though they know they'll end up with hypothermia if they stay here. Caretaker is going to be pissed. Whumpee believes. I think I'll have more than a cold at this point.
Whumpee doesn't know what happened or how Caretaker got them back in the house and on the couch. They wonder if they passed out. Caretaker walks into the room with two bowls of soup. They put a tray on Whumpee's lap and the bowl of soup on the tray. Whumpee is freezing without the blankets but can't figure out how to eat and stay under the blankets. Caretaker wants to scold Whumpee for not listening and scaring them. Instead, they turn in the TV. Within a couple of hours, Whumpee is warm. The rest of the day goes on as if nothing happened.
Whumpee feels a little sick when they wake up, but it's not too bad. They're glad they don't have to tell Caretaker, which would result in the day they had planned being canceled. They get ready for the day and go downstairs.
Caretaker is cooking breakfast when Whumpee gets downstairs. They are also ready for the day. "We'll head out after we eat," Caretaker says. Whumpee nods and sits at the table. They're starting to feel unwell and need to lie down. They remind themselves that they need to act like they're ok no matter how much they want to go back to bed. "You ok?" Caretaker asks. "Just a little tired."
"Are we going to get lunch now?" Whumpee asks. "The only place we're going is to the pharmacy," Caretaker replies, "you look awful, and don't say you're tired," Caretaker takes Whumpee's hand, "you're freezing."
When Caretaker gets to CVS, Whumpee can't take being sick. Caretaker has to leave the car on to have the heat on full blast. Whumpee wants to go back to bed. Caretaker is back in five minutes. "Ok, I got the medication. Let's get you home."
Caretaker has to help Whumpee up to their room and into bed. They take Whumpee's temperature and give them the medication. "It's a cold, but you feel terrible because you weren't resting," Caretaker explains, "I'll check on you in an hour."
Whumpee sleeps for three hours. They feel much better when they wake up. They walk out of their room to go downstairs when Caretaker stops them. "You're going back to bed. I'll get the soup I made yesterday." "Cold soup." "I'll heat it up, smart ass. Then you'll take a shower. That'll help the congestion." Whumpee gets back into bed, waiting for Caretaker.
Whumpee feels better after eating and a shower. They go downstairs to watch TV with Caretaker. "You definitely will not be going to work tomorrow," caretaker comments, "I know you'll be asleep most of the day, but maybe I should call in." "You'd be lying," Whumpee argues, "I'll be fine." The rest of the day is a lazy Sunday.
Whumpee is up before Caretaker has to leave, which relieves Caretaker. Now they can endure Whumpee is eating something good for breakfast. In case they do not feel well enough to heat up the remainder of the soup. "Soup for dinner?" Caretaker asks. "Sure." "Then I'll be home a little later. I need to buy half the ingredients needed." Caretaker leaves while Whumpee eats, wishing they had taken the medicine before coming downstairs. Even if they are going back to bed.
Whumpee slept all morning. They're awake in time to answer the Caretaker's call to check on them. After the ten-minute call, Whumpee heats up what's left of the soup and watches TV. They're not enjoying the day off from work. Laughing at how they'd rather be at work while many would gladly work less as long as pay kept up.
Whumpee ended up sleeping all afternoon. Regretting they didn't take more medication before falling asleep. They walk upstairs to get more medication. Glad they left their water bottle on the nightstand. They take the medication and lie back in bed.
Caretaker is home an hour later than usual. Whumpee lies on the couch, bored. "I'm tired of sleeping all day," they complain. Caretaker laughs at the complaint. "Sorry, but I think you should still stay home tomorrow." .Caretaker laughs at Whumpee groaning and goes to make Dinner.
As Caretaker said, Whumpee could go back to work on Wednesday. They missed working but were surprised at how little they had to catch up on. "Oh come on, you know we look out for each other," a co-worker argues, "we were able to divide the work you would have been doing without adding too much to our loads." "You know Whumpee is a workaholic," Caretaker jokes. "Glad you live with them and can make sure they rest." After a good joke, everyone gets to work. Whumpee hopes it's another year before they get sick again.
1 note · View note
Text
My favorite Shakespeare thing is when he writes a major plot point but just has someone tell us about it to save on special effects.
Hamlet gets kidnapped by pirates but we don’t see that part. It’s a letter.
The Oracle of Delphi shows up in the Winter’s Tale and rather than do all the special effects required to make that adequately supernatural, two guys come on stage and go “woah that was cool”
There’s a big storm on the night that Duncan is murdered and we learn about this when half the cast of Macbeth says “sure was stormy last night”
Shakespeare, the OG low-budget director taking the easy way out.
5K notes · View notes
kurkownaes · 10 months
Text
⛧ : ・゚  𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖊𝖗     ―     her tale is one not told lightly. ⛧ : ・゚  𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖈𝖆𝖑����     ―     i exist in solitude no more. ⛧ : ・゚  𝖎𝖈 𝖒𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖆𝖌𝖊     ―     girls like her were born in a storm.
⛧ : ・゚  𝖎𝖓 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗     ―     she was cold by nature. ⛧ : ・゚  𝖓𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖘     ―     you’ll catch a cold from the ice inside her soul. ⛧ : ・゚  𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖉 𝖍𝖚𝖓𝖙     ―     leave me in my winter. here i am powerful. ⛧ : ・゚  𝖆𝖘𝖘𝖆𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘     ―     i come to you out of quiet and still hour. ⛧ : ・゚  𝖒𝖔𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖓     ―     i am ravaged but spirited. damaged; but still deserving. ⛧ : ・゚  𝖙𝖔𝖑𝖐𝖊𝖎𝖓     ―     she had lavender in her hair and roses on her cheek. ⛧ : ・゚  𝖆.𝖘.𝖔.𝖎.𝖆.𝖋.     ―     compare me not to stars but to storms and hurricanes. ⛧ : ・゚  𝖉𝖈 / 𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖛𝖊𝖑     ―     she was chaos. a perfect storm. ⛧ : ・゚  𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊𝖜𝖊𝖉     ―     the dark goddess brings the fruit of the hidden. ⛧ : ・゚  𝖔.𝖚.𝖆.𝖙.     ―     death cannot harm me — it is life which is full of risk and malignity. ⛧ : ・゚  𝖋𝖎𝖓𝖆𝖑 𝖜𝖎𝖘𝖍     ―     i am mine before i am ever anyone else’s. ⛧ : ・゚  𝖉𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖔𝖓 𝖆𝖌𝖊     ―     with confidence ; you have won before you have started. ⛧ : ・゚  𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖙 𝖕𝖔𝖘𝖙     ―     i want apple juice ... how'd i get here?
#⛧ : ・゚  𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖊𝖗     ―     her tale is one not told lightly.#⛧ : ・゚  𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖈𝖆𝖑𝖑     ―     i exist in solitude no more.#⛧ : ・゚  𝖎𝖈 𝖒𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖆𝖌𝖊     ―     girls like her were born in a storm.#⛧ : ・゚  𝖎𝖓 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗     ―     she was cold by nature.#⛧ : ・゚  𝖓𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖘     ―     you’ll catch a cold from the ice inside her soul.#⛧ : ・゚  𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖉 𝖍𝖚𝖓𝖙     ―     leave me in my winter. here i am powerful.#⛧ : ・゚  𝖆𝖘𝖘𝖆𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘     ―     i come to you out of quiet and still hour.#⛧ : ・゚  𝖒𝖔𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖓     ―     i am ravaged but spirited. damaged; but still deserving.#⛧ : ・゚  𝖙𝖔𝖑𝖐𝖊𝖎𝖓     ―     she had lavender in her hair and roses on her cheek.#⛧ : ・゚  𝖆.𝖘.𝖔.𝖎.𝖆.𝖋.     ―     compare me not to stars but to storms and hurricanes.#⛧ : ・゚  𝖉𝖈 / 𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖛𝖊𝖑     ―     she was chaos. a perfect storm.#⛧ : ・゚  𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊𝖜𝖊𝖉     ―     the dark goddess brings the fruit of the hidden.#⛧ : ・゚  𝖔.𝖚.𝖆.𝖙.     ―     death cannot harm me — it is life which is full of risk and malignity.#⛧ : ・゚  𝖋𝖎𝖓𝖆𝖑 𝖜𝖎𝖘𝖍     ―     i am mine before i am ever anyone else’s.#⛧ : ・゚  𝖉𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖔𝖓 𝖆𝖌𝖊     ―     with confidence ; you have won before you have started.#⛧ : ・゚  𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖙 𝖕𝖔𝖘𝖙     ―     i want apple juice ... how'd i get here?
0 notes
dcxdpdabbles · 8 months
Text
The Kid of Candles
Jason Todd has been living on the streets for a while now. Ever since his mom overdosed, he's been struggling to find shelter. He was doing better in the summer and fall, but now bitter winter had come to Gotham, and it was taking everything he had not to freeze to death.
There were a lot of kids like him and even more that went to sleep but never woke up after a snowstorm. Jason is still tiny, and very new, and that means he's an easier target. He has met kids who pretend to be kind in order to steal from him but he's also met some who were willing to share what little they had.
He wouldn't call them friends. Just other survivors. He is currently in a camp created by these survivors. Street kids have carved their own place on the streets simply by staying alive the longest, and casually they allow the smaller ones in for the bad weather with the understanding that the younger ones were to leave as soon as the sun was up.
He is trying to warm up next to the lit fire by one of the older street kids when a teenager stands on a little crate. The teenager starts tapping a piece of wood against a small amount of metal like they are trying to make a toast.
He's unsure about their gender; they always tell people they are not a girl or a boy, but they are the leader of the little pack of street urchins and the only ones willing to share the small blankets.
They go by Rowan, and Rowan adores campfire stories as if they were just some rich kids paying to go out into the woods and sleep in tents instead of shivering unwanted brats sleeping on rolled-up newspapers. Some street kids groan and roll their eyes, but not Jason.
Rowan's stories are the closest he can get now to books. Before, he would read and escape to the magical world found among letters away from his mother's addiction and the worsening living conditions. Books were his comfort and one of the things he missed the most from his home.
"Gather around, gather around children, and listen to the tale of the Kid of Candles!" Rowan starts, cracking their voice into a gleeful cackle. The older ones scoff, but the younger kids all turn their attention to the ringleader.
Jason moves away from the fire to sit right in front of the crate, pulling his knees to his chest as he settles. Someone takes his spot by the fire, and he hopes the story is worth the loss. "Long ago, when Gotham was first founded by Captain Jon Logerquist, he claimed to follow a bright white light that led him right to Gotham River after suffering the loss of his entire crew to a sea storm. He would have died had he not lit the last candle on the ship- a black candle. The candle attracted the attention of a unique child, who appeared on his deck among the bright light. A boy with snow white hair, glowing green eyes, and sharp teeth pulled into a kind smile."
The children gasped as even Jason leaned closer, captivated by Rowan's smooth voice. "Captain Jon Logerquist was able to rebuild his ship and return home to report the ideal location for a new city. The founding families, the Waynes, the Kanes, the Elliots, and the Cobblepots, all agreed to take the Logerquist's request and loaded their four family ships with volunteers to start Gotham. Still, they soon became lost when Captain Logerquist tragically passed along the trip. As he was the only person who knew the way, the new crew and civilians quickly panicked, getting further and further away from the location that would later be Gotham. They attempted to turn around, hoping to return home, but navigation tactics were not working. It was almost as if the waters and stars moved, wanting to claim as many victims as possible. This would later be known as Gotham's Orginal Curse."
Rowan paused to wiggle their fingers at the crowd of ten children and a few teenagers- the ones from Rowan's original gang- all made the appropriate ooooohhhhh sounds. Jason shivers as a storage sense of pressure settles around his shoulders. It felt like the city itself was listening to the tale. He wonders if anyone else felt it.
"They quickly ran out of food, and the passengers even began speaking of eating each other to survive. A young Wayne boy, one of the few who could read, found Logerquist's journal in his cabin and decided to try lighting a black candle while the adults argued." Rowan continues mimicking, opening a book, and lighting a candle. That's another thing Jason liked about Rowman's stories. They tended to act out some scenes, and it was highly entertaining.
"Just like before, a bright white light appeared before the lite black candle, and a boy with snow white hair, glowing green eyes, and a kind, sharp smile told the Waynes to follow him, which they agreed to. The three other family ships reluctantly followed when the Waynes broke away from the formation and arrived at Gotham. There, they found all the resources they needed to survive and riches beyond their wildest dreams. Since then, the Kid of Candles has appeared throughout Gotham's history, leading those who are lost to their homes whenever a black candle is lit. It is said to this day if you are genuinely lost and light a black candle, the Kid of Candles will appear but be warned, his assistance always comes with a price,"
Jason gasped as the pressure increased around him. Seriously how had no one else felt it yet? "What is the price?"
Rowan snaps their fingers at him with a sinister smile. "Death. When you ask the dead for help, they will ensure you join them as a repayment. Maybe not the same day, maybe not for years, but he will claim you eventually."
A few kids whimpered.
"Oh, knock it off, Rowan," A teenage girl snaps. "You're scaring the little ones with your stupid urban myths."
"Gotham myths are not stupid!" Rowan's gasps hurt. "They are the closest accurate account of Gotham's real history!"
"Sure, just like the Court of Owls and their Talons." the girl rolls her eyes.
"Those are real. The Court's Talons should not be taken lightly. They are far worse than the Kid of Candle. At least he is benevolent enough to help you home!"
Jason retreats to his corner of the abandoned warehouse factory, ignoring the bickering of the teenage gang. He sits with his back to the wall, his feet tucked close to his chest, and all his things squished between his body and a second wall on his right. It's uncomfortable but ideal for keeping what little he has safe and making it easier to get up and run should the need arise.
He found that the need came a lot more often than he liked. He nods off after trying to squeeze his body closely together to hopefully gather warmth.
The following day, a teenager kicks him in the side, sneering that the free space-time is over and Rowan wants him out in ten minutes. Jason doesn't have to be told twice, gathering his things and scurrying to the exit. As he passed Rowan, he offered the elder a nod of thanks, and the storyteller gave him a wink and grin.
They also press a black candle into Jason's palm. "Hey he brought me to my gang, so why can't he lead you?"
Jason smiles, no commenting, and pockets the candle without hesitation. He may need to sleep here again and doesn't think calling bullshit will be a smart move.
It's best not to offend the crazy leader. A day goes by where he panhandles out of the cop's sight, wandering around the city looking for some food, and even gets a rich guy to give him fifty bucks after asking politely, but he runs when he asks if he has somewhere safe to sleep.
All in all, not the worst day. That night, he returns to Rowan's place but is told they already have too many. Disheartened, Jason wanders to sleep under a bridge by Gotham River. As he shivers near the frozen water, he thinks of the black candle.
He has a few matches on him, and maybe the small candle can help him start a bigger fire to keep warm. Jason strikes his match The pressure from before returns making him waver for only a moment before he dares set the wake aflame.
A few seconds go by with nothing happening, and he's just about getting embarrassed for believing in a stupid urban legend when he's blinded by the brightest light he's ever seen. A floating boy with white hair, green glowing eyes, and a broad smile appears before Jason.
He screams, stumbling back to fall on his butt as the boy floats to touch the ground before him.
The boy smile widens. "Hello Jason, it's time to go home."
Jason runs, but it gives chase, throwing out directions. He attempts to do whatever it is- by going the opposite direction, but it's to no avail. Jason knows Gotham like the back of his hand and swears the streets are moving. Roads that are blocks away from each other are right around the corners he takes.
Soon, an unnatural light blue fog surrounds him, blocking his view of anything more than two feet before him. He glances over his shoulder, confirming the mist is coming from the glowing figure that flies behind him at an easy, steady pace.
He picks up his speed.
Jason doesn't understand what's happening, but he remembers Rowan's voice as he pumps his legs to go as fast as they can to the point they burn. This would later be known as Gotham's Orginal Curse."
Oh god, he's been cursed by the Kid of Candles!
"We're here. I hope you have a lovely life with your new family." The being suddenly says hand on Jason's elbow, causing the boy to trip over and hit against a large metal gate. The fog disperses like a blown-away candle, and the Kid of Candles vanishes in its smoke as the gates of Intercon turn on.
"Wayne Manor. Who might you-" a voice with a British accent speaks over the speakers, but Jason cuts them off with a frightful yelp.
"Help! Help! Please, he's going to kill me!" He shouts, eyes swinging around the new place he is. He thinks he doesn't recognize this place at all, which means he's somewhere out of the city- the outskirts. Where the wealthy live.
It would take a good two hours by car to get here, and The Kid of Candles got him here in ten by bending reality or something. And now Jason owed it something.
He owed it his death.
He crumbles into sobs, so terrified his heart feels like it will escape from his chest. "Please. I don't want to die. I don't want to die."
There is a long pause, where all Jason can hear is his own uneven breathing and the beating of his chest, before the gates swing open, and a slightly older teenager- probably around Rowan's age- is offering him a hand.
"Hi, I'm Dick. I think I can help you if you come inside."
Jason stares at the hand for a few seconds, but from the corner of his eye, he swears he sees a boy watching them and quickly takes the hand.
His right elbow has a new tattoo he never paid for. It's a burning black candle, right where the Kid had touched him. It's also the same tattoo on Rowan's right hand. Jason cries for hours when he finds it.
Years later, Jason will admit that the Kid of Candles truly did help him find a home. He would come to love Bruce like father, as the man took him in, mistaking Jason as an escapee of human trafficking, and was there to buffer the misunderstanding between him and Dick.
He would point out that Dick called him dad outside the house, and Bruce would sit his eldest down to ask if he was okay with an adoption. Dick would settle with the knowledge that Bruce didn't keep him around to fight crime, and he would open his heart to Jason as a brother.
He would grow to follow in his brother's footsteps and become Robin- after making sure Dick was okay with it- and would help his new father fight crime. When Jason is fourteen, he finds out his mother is not his biological, and he learns his real mom is still alive.
He asks Dick and Bruce for help to find her, so the three load the plane as the Waynes instead of the Bats, and thus they help put her away together when the met-up goes south.
She tries to sell them to the Joker, but Bruce overhears her and gets authorities to him in mere minutes, long before the Joker can meet up with her.
She is in cuffs and being led away from the warehouse where the Joker was going to wait for her.
In the chaos, Jason notices the glowing white-haired boy smiling at the warehouse entrance, but Jason doesn't go near it. Not even after it explodes, killing the Joker who was inside. Not even when Bruce holds them close, horrified that they could have been so close to the explosion- they were in civilian identities and needed to put up a show- but he does notice that the Candle on his elbow is shorter.
That night Jason traces the shorter melted candle and he knows he escaped death once more. He doesn't know how he knows but something deep within him knows the Kid of Candles hand something to do with it.
He would swing by Rowan's place as Robin and Jason Wayne to help them and their gang get off the streets.
Rowan would one day open a bookstore, where they would hold weekly storytelling, naming the store the Black Candle in thanks to the spirit that led them to his lifelong friends.
Jason will, however, never get over his fear of ghosts, not even when the same green fog would one night lead the neighbor's boy right to their yard. His little brother, Tim, thought The Kid of Candles was kind, handsome, and awesome (might be a crush in all honestly) but Jason will always know it was much more dangerous than meets the eye.
All things in Gotham are deadly beautiful like that.
The Waynes still have a drawer full of black candles they take out in the field, just in case.
(Danny Phantom watches Jason sleep, his protection core warming as the boy cuddles with Tim after his little brother admitted to a nightmare. He's glad they found somewhere that could offer everything they needed in a home.
A house and a home are two very different things, after all.
It reminds him of when he was alive.
A candle is flickered on somewhere in the city, and he blinks out of existence, ready to help- Steph- get away from her father. Hmmm, well, Bruce does have the space for more kids)
2K notes · View notes
seonghrtz · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 ✶ sukuna ryomen
Tumblr media
꒰ true beauty ! ꒱ an arrogant prince falls under the spell of an enchantress, who turns him into the hideous four-armed beast until he learns to love and be loved in return.
❛❛ in the end, she was his salvation and his downfall ❜❜
pairing. prince!sukuna ryomen x (belle)fem!reader.
contents. the beauty and the beast alternative universe, fluff, slight angst, enemies to lovers (?), he fell first he fell harder, royal!au, sukuna true form as the beast, occ sukuna.
amy's note. hi sweetie, this is amy!!! this is the first story in the fairy tale series, starring sukuna ryomen in the beauty and the beast universe. initially i was going to put sukuna in the cinderella story, just because of the fandom memes (jjk x disney princess), but i think he as an arrogant beast who has never loved anything would make much more sense and fit in better. anyway, that's it, i hope you like it!!!
comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!
Tumblr media
𝕺𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄, in a kingdom far away, there was a handsome young prince who lived in a magnificent castle, and even though he had everything he wanted, the prince was spoiled, selfish, and rude. But one winter night, in the middle of a storm, an old woman came to the castle and offered him a simple rose in exchange for shelter from the cold and rain. Disgusted by her ugliness, the prince scoffed at the offer and sent the old woman away. But she advised him not to be deceived by appearances because beauty lies within people and in their hearts, and when he sent her away again, she was transformed into a beautiful enchantress. The prince tried to apologize, but it was too late, as she realized that there was no love in his heart. And as punishment, she turned him into a hideous four-armed monster and plagued the castle and everyone who lived there. Ashamed of his monstrous appearance, the prince hid in the castle with a magic mirror as his only window to the outside world. The rose she offered was enchanted. It would bloom until the twenty-first year, if he learned to love someone and it was reciprocated by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be undone, otherwise he would be doomed to remain a monster forever. Over the years, he fell into despair and lost all hope. After all, who could love a monster?
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ✶
The day began with a flurry of activity in the small village. Residents greeted each other as they went about their morning chores, and others opened their shops. Y/n, a beautiful young woman, made her way through the crowd with one goal in mind: to get to the village library. After buying some fresh bread and gathering the missing parts for her father's latest invention, the young woman made her way to the small library to return the book she had borrowed last week.
"Good morning, Mr. Higuruma." Y/n said as soon as she saw the man from the shop holding a pile of books. "I'm here to return the book I bought last week."
"Miss Y/n, good to see you again," the brunette said, placing the pile of dusty books on the table in the corner of the shop. "Unfortunately, the delivery of new books has been postponed until next week."
"Oh, no problem." Y/n approached the bookshelf, put the book she had picked up the week before back in its place, and ran her finger along the spines of the other books, looking for one in particular. "I think I'll take this one!" She took the book from the shelf and showed the cover to Higuruma, who just laughed.
"That must be the tenth time you've read that one."
"But this is the best book, certainly my favorite. Distant kingdoms, battles, and a princess who saves the prince. Sometimes, it's hard not to see myself as the protagonist. Living an adventure and finding her true love, something much bigger than life in the country.”
"Since you like this one so much, I'm giving it to you as a present."
"Mr. Higuruma, I can't accept that!" she looked at him, astonished at the idea, while the man in front of her just smiled.
"You're my most loyal customer. You've read all the books I have in the library. And maybe the only one with a real interest in reading."
"Thank you, that's very nice of you." Y/n smiled happily at the gift and the bookseller's gesture.
"You're welcome. Next time I'll have some new books for you!"
"Thank you, Mr. Higuruma!" Y/n waved, smiled, and left the shop. The young woman stared at the cover of the book, the worn blue leather and the worn gold lettering, it was a simple book, but with an extraordinary story behind its simplicity.
The young girl was so busy studying the book that she barely noticed Gaston's not-so-subtle appearance at her side.
"My beautiful lady!" Gaston said, thickening his voice and stopping in front of Y/n, preventing her from continuing on her way.
"Gaston..." she rolled her eyes and looked away from the book in her hands to the man in front of her.
"My beautiful Y/n, when are you going to realize that we are soul mates and forget about these books, which by the way have no figure, how can you like this so much?" He said, taking the object out of the girl's hands and giving her (or trying to give her) a gallant smile.
"Well, you just have to use your imagination while reading and I think you're reading the wrong signals about us," the girl took the book back and turned away from the man, "I have to go now, have a nice day, Gaston."
Y/n walked quickly back to her house, which was a short distance from the village. When she got home, she left the fresh bread on the breakfast table and picked up the tools her father had asked for before going down to where he was conducting his experiments and inventions.
"Dad? I brought what you asked for."
"Thank you, dear!" The girl's father came out from under the machine and took the object his daughter had offered him.
"Dad..."
"Yes, dear?"
"Do you think we'll live here for long?"
"Oh, dear, when I become a great inventor, we'll travel the world!" Her father stepped out from under his invention, ready to finally put it into action. "Let's hope it works, dear!"
As soon as the machine was turned on, the parts began to move and a sound was heard, the axe on top moved down and cut the wood on the bench.
"Dad! It works! Your machine works!" the young woman said excitedly.
"And the axe didn't fly away!"
"Dad, you're going to be a great inventor!" The young girl hugged the older man, finally her father's dream would come true and he would become a great inventor.
"Oh dear! I must run and pack my things to go to the city!" The old man said excitedly, pacing back and forth, "You don't mind being alone for a few days, my child?"
"Of course not, Dad. Go after your dreams." The young woman smiled openly and hugged her father once more. "Come, let's pack your things for the trip."
Together with her father, the girl went up to the house and helped him prepare the small suitcase along with some snacks for his trip to the city. Ever since they had moved to this small village in the countryside, her father had been working tirelessly on various inventions that had failed one after the other, causing his reputation as a madman to grow among the locals. However, she had seen him fail and never give up, that was his dream, to become a great inventor and help people with his inventions and there was nothing that would stop him until he managed to make his inventions work. And if his invention surprised the judges in the competition and managed to win first place, maybe Y/n would not have to settle for a life in the country while her father could work on his "crazy gadgets".
The young woman stroked the horse's copper-brown coat while her father checked the bag with some tools.
"Be careful on your way, Dad." Y/n hugged him and helped him onto his horse.
"I'll be back in a few days, don't worry about me!"
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ✶
The next day, Y/n awoke in high spirits, hoping that her father's trip to the city would be smooth and without danger. She put on a simple blue dress and headed for the kitchen, but before she could prepare breakfast, a knock on the door echoed through the house, along with a voice she knew well. On tiptoe, Y/n reached the door and looked through the peephole, seeing Gaston from an unfavorable angle.
"My dear Y/n! Are you home?" Gaston thickened his voice and puffed out his chest, even though no one could see him, "I have an offer you can't refuse!"
The young woman took a deep breath and opened the door with a fake smile on her lips. "Good morning, Gaston. Don't you think it's a little early for one of your proposals?"
"Oh, my beautiful lady, it's never too early for my irrefutable proposal!" Gaston said as he walked past Y/n and sat down in the dining room chair. "You know, my dear, I think you've noticed by now that I'm the best suitor in the village. It would be a shame for you to let me go. And lately, I've been thinking of certain ways to take our relationship a step further."
"Our relationsh–" The young woman's speech was interrupted by Gaston, who abruptly rose from his chair and spoke again.
"Think about it, a little house in the country, a small herd of cattle, a plantation, seven, no, ten children with my beautiful face, and you know what else I see?" Gaston looked at Y/n, but before she could answer, he continued, "My beautiful wife greeting me after a day's hunting.”
"You've been using your imagination a lot..." the young woman whispered to herself.
"And do you know who my wife is that I see in this beautiful future of mine?" Gaston approached the young woman, pressing her against the wall.
"How could I imagine?"
"It's you, my beautiful Y/n."
"Oh, Gaston!" Y/n held back the urge to make an expression of disgust at the scenario the man in front of her was describing, "I'm... flattered...? Yes, flattered by such affection, but I think this is wrong, you know, I think you've made a mistake.”
"How can I be wrong? You're the only one in this village whose beauty is on my level.”
"Beauty? Is that all you care about?" Y/n looked at him confused, she knew Gaston was shallow and self-centered, she just didn't get that he was trying to get her to marry him just because she was "the most beautiful girl in the village".
"And what else should I care about?"
"Well..." The young woman took a deep breath, "I think it's time for you to go... oh, I just heard Lefou say he's spotted a huge, fast deer that can't be caught!”
"A huge, fast deer that can't be caught?" Gaston's eyes widened. "Well, call your crazy father later so we can decide about our marriage."
"That won't be necessary because I'm not marrying you!" Y/n closed the door and locked it with all the locks her father had created. Ignoring Gaston's cry that she would be his one day, the young woman turned, leaned her back against the door, and slid to the floor.
Marry Gaston? It was a terrible nightmare. Not even if Gaston was the last person on earth would Y/n marry him. She had so much to do, so many places to explore, so many people to meet. And if she was going to get married, it certainly wouldn't be to someone as shallow as Gaston; she wanted someone who really liked her and her personality, not her looks.
The girl slowly got up, unlocked the door, and looked outside her house to see if the man had already left and wouldn't come back when he realized the huge deer was a lie. She did, however, notice a familiar copper brown horse galloping quickly toward her house.
"Phillipe?" She left the house, closing the door behind her, and walked toward the animal. "Where's my father, Phillipe?" The girl said, noticing her father's absence and the horse's exhilaration. "Phillipe, take me to my father, please!" Desperate to think of the worst that could happen to her father, the young woman pulled out the cart containing her father's invention and quickly mounted the horse, asking him to lead her down the path to where her father was. Phillipe raced through the dark paths of the forest, causing Y/n to shiver at the eeriness of the forest, while her mind wandered far away, worried about her father's current situation.
Phillipe began to slow down as a huge castle appeared on the horizon. It was so large and terrifying that it looked like something out of a horror book, though it seemed to blend into the desolate landscape around it. But perhaps what intrigued Y/n most was that she had never heard anyone in the village talk about the place ⸻ and it intrigued her even more because the castle didn't seem to be secret at all.
Y/n dismounted and looked around, trying to find the courage to open the gate in front of her. She would be lying to herself if she said she wasn't afraid of this dark, unknown place. But the important thing there wasn't to prove her courage, but to find out where her father was. The gate was cold and made a terrible noise when it opened, but that didn't stop her from continuing.
"Hello!" The young woman said loudly as she entered the castle. "Is anyone here?" She narrowed her eyes, trying to see in the pitch black, but quickly found a lit candelabra. "I'm sorry to barge in uninvited, but I just came to get my father! Please... help me find my father!" Y/n walked aimlessly through the castle, following only her faint intuition of where he might be. "Hello? Is anyone there?" She spotted a staircase that seemed to lead to the top of one of the castle's towers. "Dad, are you there?"
"Y/n, my daughter?" Her father's weak voice called out.
Quickly, Y/n left the chandelier on the stone near the wall and ran to her father, who was trapped. "Dad, what are you doing here?"
"My dear daughter..." the girl's father coughed before continuing, "You must run before he arrests you too..." Before the girl could say anything, footsteps echoed through the room.
"Who's there?" She looked around for the person who had just entered the scene.
"I'm the one asking the questions, impertinent girl." The stranger's gruff voice sent a shiver of fear down the young woman's spine.
"Please let my father go!" The girl pleaded.
"I'm not in the mood for that."
"What? How can you be so cruel? Can't you see he's in bad health?"
"He should have thought twice before he broke into my castle."
"Please let him go! I promise we will never see each other again!"
"Empty promises. I'm not really interested in that."
"Then..." the young woman took a deep breath, "let me take his place."
"My daughter! Don't do this!" her father said with tears in his eyes. How could he lose his daughter right before his eyes.
"Things are getting more interesting..." the person in the darkness laughed. "A fair trade, the old flesh for the new... uh, I'll take that trade, impertinent girl."
Before Y/n could speak, her body was thrown into a cell. The young woman quickly approached the iron bars and watched as her father was brutally removed from where he lay. Her father screamed her name and tried to get away from the person, but it was impossible to escape.
In the darkness, the girl could see the castle owner's back. The broad shoulders were adorned with black lines that ran the length of his back and, most shocking to the young woman, the four muscular arms that protruded from the side of his body.
Y/n was not only the prisoner of a shady castle owner with a serious personality problem but also of a giant monster with four arms who could finish her off with a snap of his fingers.
Minutes later, the owner of the castle reappeared and abruptly opened the door to the cell Y/n was in. The girl looked up at him, her eyes watering, afraid of what might happen to her from this moment on.
"Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to follow me?"
"Where are we going?" she asked confused and scared as she followed the four-armed man.
"The basement..." his voice came out loud and clear, making the young woman shudder. "Shall I take you to a room, or would you rather stay in the tower?"
The girl had no answer, just followed him through the dark corridors of the castle.
"What's your name?" Y/n asked without thinking and quickly pressed her lips together, regretting her sudden action.
"Dinner will be served at eight." He said, opening a door at the end of the corridor, "If you don't come, you won't eat."
"Do you want me to have dinner with you?" the young woman asked him incredulously.
"It's either that or starve to death. You're lucky I'm giving you a choice..." he rolled his (four) eyes.
"I'm not having dinner with you!”
"THEN STARVE!" The four-armed man shouted angrily, frightening the girl, and slammed the door with a loud bang.
The young woman stared at the door in front of her, feeling tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She began to feel overwhelmed and staggered to sit on the bed. She had lost the two most important things to her on the same day: her father and her freedom. Now, she would have to live with an arrogant and rude being. Slowly, she raised her trembling hands to her face and wiped away the hot tears.
"Who's there?" she asked, startled when she heard a knock at the door. The girl got up and opened the bedroom door to find nothing there. She breathed a sigh of relief, but was startled to see a pot of tea and a cup in front of the door. "Tea?"
"Hello, Miss!" The cup said smiling, startling the girl.
"Itadori, what did I say about scaring our guest?" The teapot said, rebuking the cup's attitude.
"I'm sorry, Nanamin, and I'm sorry, Miss, for scaring you.”
"What... what's going on?"
"Forgive our rudeness," the teapot said, "I am Nanami Kento, I work as a mentor for the young Itadori Yuji, who is the younger brother of the master.
"Master?"
"Uh, Sukuna, the big guy with four arms."
"Sukuna..." Y/n whispered his name. The name actually suited him. "So this is like a magic castle?"
"You could say that," Nanami said, "Anyway, we came to ask you if you would like a cup of tea."
"If you don't mind, I'd love to." The teapot approached the cup and poured the warm liquid into it.
"Miss..."
"Please, just call me Y/n."
"As you wish, Y/n." Nanami said, being quite serious for a teapot, "I apologize for Master's inconsiderate and rude attitude."
"Mr. Nanami, please don't apologize for his actions, it's your master who should apologize, not you."
"She's right, Nanamin!" Itadori said with a cheerful voice, "My brother should stop being such a jerk and start learning not to be rude to people!"
"You two are quite different, Itadori," the young woman smiled at the cup in her hand.
"Let's just say I got the good genes from the family."
"Well, I'm afraid we've talked too much already, we have a feast to prepare. Come on, Itadori."
"Do you need any help?"
"Of course not, Y/n, you are our guest of honor!"
The young woman watched as the teapot and cup left the room, then threw herself back onto the bed. She had just been talking to a teapot and a cup... perhaps the things in there were not the most conventional she had ever seen in her life.
Filled with curiosity about the place, Y/n got out of bed and walked almost on tiptoe to the door, slowly opening it. She poked her head out of the room and looked around to see if anyone was guarding the door to the room she was in. When she realized that no one was there, she left the room, closing the door behind her, and began to wander around the castle with a curious look on her face.
This castle was certainly different from all the castles that appeared in the stories in the books she used to read. The decor was gloomy. The curtains looked as if they hadn't been opened for years, leaving everything in a darkness that the young woman was beginning to get used to.
Y/n climbed a flight of stairs and continued her exploration of the place. When she reached a dead-end hallway, she was about to turn around and return to her assigned room, but a faint glow from the slightly open door piqued her curiosity. Before entering the unfamiliar room, she looked around to make sure no one was around and entered, making as little noise as possible.
The darkness of the room prevented her from noticing the clutter and some upside-down furniture in the corner of the huge room, but also the glow of a beautiful rose near the glass door of the balcony that had captivated her. Before she could touch the glass that held the rose, Y/n felt a large, strong hand grab her wrist.
"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING HERE?" Sukuna's hand closed tighter around Y/n's wrist.
"I was just–"
"I THINK YOU BETTER GET OUT OF MY WAY BEFORE I KILL YOU!" Sukuna let go of the girl's wrist, not caring how much force he used against her, and turned to look at the rose in front of him.
The words frightened Y/n more than Sukuna's tone. Fearing that the threat would become reality, the young woman ran as fast as she could, looking for an exit from the castle.
When she found the huge door, she opened it without a second thought, feeling an icy wind against her body. Her thin dress wasn't enough to keep her warm in the cold or protect her from the falling snow, but it was all she had and she wasn't going back to the castle just to find something to run away with ⸻ the chances of meeting Sukuna were high and something she didn't want at the moment.
A wolf's howl echoed through the forest, and Y/n tried to run as fast as she could in the snow. Her body was freezing more and more with each passing second, and her head was spinning since the only thing she had eaten during the day was the cup of tea Nanami had offered her. Dizzy, the young woman's vision blurred, and she stumbled over a branch that was in her way. Turning around, she saw a wolf staring at her with a hungry look and wished that the animal in front of her wasn't staring at her. But before she could get up and run away in a lousy attempt to save herself from a natural predator, Y/n noticed a huge figure coming up behind the wolf and picking a fight with the animal.
Gradually, the young woman felt her body tremble with fatigue and the cold, but she soon regained some consciousness when she felt large, muscular arms holding her. "You've come to kill me, Sukuna...?" her voice came out weakly.
"Shut up, you impertinent girl."
Before she could respond to Sukuna's words, the young woman felt her body give way completely, and everything went black.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ✶
When Y/n finally regained consciousness, she felt something soft underneath her and a pleasant warmth, but the sound of an argument brought her headache back. Sukuna's voice, the only one she could recognize, was loud and angry, and he didn't seem to mind shouting.
"I SWEAR, GOJO, THE NEXT TIME YOU OPEN YOUR MOUTH, I'LL MELT YOU INTO LIQUID WAX AND THEN BREAK YOU IN HALF.”
"Master, I'm sorry to bother you."
"WHAT THE FUCK, WHAT'S WRONG, GETO?!"
"Miss has just woken up."
"So you finally decided to wake up?" Sukuna turned to the young woman, his four arms crossed in front of his broad chest, and approached the sofa where she lay.
"What happened?"
"You fainted"
"How long was I unconscious?"
"About three days."
"What?" The girl looked at him, startled by his answer. Could she have been unconscious for so long just because she hadn't eaten?
"It's been two hours at most, now stop complaining because the food is getting cold." Sukuna turned his back to the young woman, allowing her to notice several scratches along his length, surely acquired in his fight with the wolf.
"Excuse me, miss, it is a pleasure to meet you, I am Gojo Satoru, currently your candelabra, but always at your service!" The talking candelabra approached the young woman, "If you would allow me, I would like to take you to the dining room, as some are incapable of doing such kindness!"
"That's very kind of you, Mr. Gojo," Y/n smiled slightly and got up from the sofa, following the chandelier into the dining room. She sat down at the end of the table laden with food and shivered slightly when she saw Sukuna join her in the meal, taking a seat at the other end of the table.
Dinner took place in deep silence, on the one hand there was Sukuna who didn't know how to start a conversation politely and on the other there was Y/n who was in an internal discussion with herself about Sukuna's heroic act of fighting a wolf hand to hand after she had run away. He saved her life even when he didn't have to ⸻ and even after he threatened to kill her.
When she finished her dessert, the girl picked up the glass bowl filled with water and a cloth from the table and slowly approached Sukuna, "Do you mind if I help you with those bruises?" she asked in a low tone, but audible enough for the man to hear.
"Whatever." Though he seemed indifferent to the girl's request, Sukuna moved and turned onto his back, giving her better access to his bruises.
"Does it hurt?" she asked as she dipped the cloth into the water and gently wiped the bruises.
"Not a bit."
"I'm sorry, I'm to blame for what happened to you.”
"I'm glad you know. If you hadn't had the stupid idea to run off in the middle of the night, I wouldn't have been hurt," he said in a rude tone.
"Well, I wouldn't have run away if you hadn't scared me and threatened to kill me."
"And I wouldn't have yelled at you if you hadn't entered the forbidden wing."
"You have never forbidden any wing of the castle, just like you never said I couldn't explore it." The young woman's words left Sukuna speechless. In fact, he had never forbidden her to go to his room. She had done nothing to deserve being cursed and threatened. "You should learn to control your anger. Otherwise, you'll only drive away those who love you." The room fell into such a deep silence that neither of them dared to speak for several minutes. When she had finished cleaning Sukuna's bruises, the girl placed the cloth on the table and turned to leave. "I think I'd better go back to my room. Have a good night," she whispered.
"Y/n..." Sukuna's calm voice brought the young woman to an immediate halt. It was the first time he had called her by name.
“Yes?”
"Have breakfast with me tomorrow."
"Was that supposed to be a request?"
Sukuna rolled all four eyes, "Could you have breakfast with me tomorrow?"
"Yes, we could." she smiled broadly, showing her teeth, amused by Sukuna's frustrated look, "I would love to, thank you for asking."
"Yeah... whatever." Sukuna looked away to some random point. "Go to sleep, impertinent girl."
“Good night, Sukuna.” The young woman smiled openly.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ✶
When Y/n rejoined Sukuna the next morning, her first reaction was to examine the cuts on the man's back. The young woman felt guilty about the injuries, for if she had thought twice about what she was doing, the fight might never have happened, and Sukuna might never have been hurt.
Breakfast was eaten in silence, with discreet glances exchanged. For some reason, after being rescued by Sukuna, the young girl had a new vision of the four-armed monster. It's true that he was rude and arrogant most of the time, but there was something about him that had the potential to be a kinder being. Sukuna wasn't purely evil. She could see that at dinner last night when something started to blossom between them. Sukuna, on the other hand, tried to remember that the girl was kind to everyone around her. He was no exception to her kindness and sweet touches.
"I want to show you something." Sukuna said, controlling his tone, which surprised the young woman.
"What is it?" She said curiously.
"Could you..." he sighed deeply "Could you come with me?"
"Of course!" She smiled at Sukuna's attempt to be polite.
Sukuna led the young woman through the castle, which, unlike the day before, had its curtains and windows open and didn't look so frightening in the light.
"This is... an apology... for scaring you yesterday..." Sukuna's voice was lower than usual, and the tips of his ears turned red as he looked away from the girl in front of him. He certainly couldn't look into the young woman's eyes, not when he thought her eyes were as beautiful as the starry sky.
The four-armed man opened the doors in front of him, revealing to Y/n a vast library filled with books from floor to ceiling.
"Oh my! That's wonderful!" Y/n smiled and looked around, "How did you know I liked books?"
"A hunch."
"Sukuna..." The girl approached the man, "I accept your apology, and thank you for showing me this place. I admire you for trying to change." The young woman's hand reached Sukuna's upper right arm, and she gently smoothed the boy's skin under her hand, sending a shock through Sukuna's huge body. "So, which book shall we read first?" she asked after noticing the sudden and strange silence of the man in front of her.
“We?” Sukuna looked at the woman in disbelief.
"Yes, us!" Y/n smiled, pulling Sukuna with some difficulty to look at the books in the large library. "I think we started our relationship in a very bad and strange way, but I think we can change that... if you want to, of course."
"You are too good for this world..." Sukuna whispered.
"What did you say?" Y/n turned to Sukuna, puzzled by what the other had whispered.
"That you talk too much and that you're very curious," he crossed his four muscular arms.
"Aren't you the least bit curious about the world?"
"The world is a cruel place full of arrogant men who dream of being gods, I don't think that arouses my curiosity.”
"You have a very dark view of the world..." The young woman looked at him in surprise.
"It's just reality..." Sukuna shrugged.
"And why don't you try to change that reality?" The girl ran her finger along the back of the books, "Maybe if you looked for a new perspective, you might be surprised by the result."
"I have a feeling I don't have time for this anymore.”
"And why not? There's a whole world of possibilities out there, behind the bars of the castle."
"Do you think I've been stuck in the castle all these years because I want to be? Ever since they turned me into that four-armed monster, I've been hiding. What do you think would happen if I walked around the village like a normal person? People would hunt me down and try to kill me.
"I'm sorry, I hadn't thought of it that way..." Y/n stared at the floor as she clutched the book in her hands, ashamed that she had never thought of it from that perspective.
"Whatever"
"Why did you turn into a monster?" The girl's words were out of her mouth before she could think twice. "Oh, I'm sorry for being so pushy."
"An old witch cursed me..." Sukuna shrugged as he sat down on one of the sofas in the library.
"And there's no way to break the spell?"
"It's more complicated than you think..."
"Sukuna... why are you hiding under this rude and arrogant personality?" The young woman approached him and sat down beside him.
"I've always been like this, so stop giving me a hard time." He rolled his eyes and looked away from the girl.
"You can trust me, I won't tell anyone. Everything you tell me here will stay here." She put her hand on Sukuna's hand, which was resting on his thigh.
"Which book did you get?" he asked, diverting the subject.
"One of adventure and romance," the young woman smiled, respecting the man's decision not to talk about his past, "would you like to read it with me?"
Sukuna sat down on the sofa with a false expression of disinterest and watched as Y/n smiled excitedly as she opened the book, ready to tell her favorite story to the man next to her.
Neither Sukuna nor the young woman noticed the passage of time, and they were only slightly surprised when Geto, the clock, and Gojo, the candelabra, entered the library to announce that lunch was served.
They ate lunch and dessert in silence, both afraid to break the pleasant atmosphere between them. When they returned to the library to finish the story, the young woman noticed the snow falling outside the castle.
"Sukuna... instead of reading again, why don't we go outside and enjoy the weather?" The young woman suggested with a slight smile on her face.
"Do you want to go outside?"
"Come on, it'll be cool!"
After they were properly warmed up (this was the first time the young woman had seen the boy with some kind of cloth covering his upper body), they both went out side by side into the castle's huge garden. Slowly, the girl walked away from Sukuna, and suddenly, in her actions, she bent down and picked up a handful of snow in her hands, forming a ball, and then hit the four-armed man in the face.
"Is this a request for war?" Sukuna bent down to form two snowballs with his four hands.
"Are you telling me you're too old to have fun?" she smiled, hiding behind a tree as she made another snowball.
A snowball fight ensued, with the young woman laughing every time she hit Sukuna with a ball. Y/n ran through the snow, laughing awkwardly, until she felt her body thrown to the ground and pinned by a body more than twice her size.
"What? Have you run out of things to do, you impertinent girl?" Sukuna smiled sideways, bringing a blush to the girl's cheeks beneath him.
"If you stand over me like that, it won't be as much fun..." Y/n looked away.
"Ah, but I find it very funny," he laughed anasally. One of his hands reached for the girl's chin, pulling her face (gently) so that she was facing him again.
"You have beautiful eyes..." the girl whispered, but because of the short distance between them, Sukuna was able to hear her perfectly.
"All four eyes? Or just a pair?" He smiled provocatively but was secretly curious to hear the girl's answer.
"Hm, I meant all four."
Sukuna's heart skipped a beat and he felt a warm feeling grow in his chest. He knew from the moment he saw her that his heart had chosen her, it was as if it broke into song every time she appeared in his field of vision. He knew he was lost the moment she was kind enough to take care of a monster like him and tend to his wounds. But there was still a problem. There had to be reciprocity, and he knew it wouldn't be possible to be loved, not by someone like her. In the end, she was his salvation and his downfall.
Sukuna stepped down from the young woman and lay down on the snow beside her, looking up at the clear, cloud-filled sky. "My parents never loved me. They said I was useless, a scum, a terrible curse in their lives. They never cared about me or Itadori."
"You deserve so much more, Sukuna, I can see it now." Y/n turned her head to meet the man's face in profile. "It can't have been easy, but I'm glad that you're here now," by my side, she added mentally.
“Y/n…”
“Yes, Sukuna?”
"Is there anything you've always dreamed of doing if you were in a castle?"
"Ah, well, there's only one thing I always dreamed of when I read fantasy books..."
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ✶
"That dress looks magnificent on you, miss!" Shoko, the wardrobe, said with a slight smile on her face, she had chosen a long, voluminous yellow dress that looked like gold.
"I love the dress," the young woman smiled sweetly and smoothed the skirt with her gloved hands, "It's the most beautiful dress I've ever seen. Thank you for helping me, Shoko."
"Go ahead, dear." Shoko said with her calm tone and a lazy smile on her lips, "Have fun with Master Sukuna."
Y/n left the room, feeling her heart beating hard against her chest. It was as if the organ was ready to jump out of her body and run away. Perhaps the girl was worried about the extent to which her feelings had grown since meeting Sukuna ⸻ and especially after the new vision she had after being saved by him. Though he had his monstrous appearance and rough manner to keep his vulnerability from being exposed, the girl knew that deep down, Sukuna could be good and kind.
"Not bad." Sukuna smiled sideways as he met the girl in the hall. He was wearing one of his prince suits, which had been transformed for this very situation.
"Can you really dance?" she asked, trying not to sound so doubtful about the supposed waltzing skills of the man in front of her.
"Since I was five years old." Sukuna replied, taking the girl's hand and placing it on his shoulder while holding her other hand tightly. His lower arms found a place around her waist together with the upper one that was already there. "Are you ready?"
"Yes." She said with a smile.
The music echoed around the room, and Sukuna led Y/n, swaying from side to side until the girl got used to the dance moves. Their eyes met for a moment, and Sukuna lost himself in the depth and brilliance of the woman's eyes before him. The man had always found her beautiful, ever since that dimly lit night in the tower when they first met, she was certainly the most beautiful woman in his eyes, there was no beauty that could compare to hers. As time passed, Sukuna realized that her outward beauty was perhaps only comparable to her own inner beauty, which managed to be much more beautiful. Y/n was much more than a pretty face, her manner, her personality, and her admirable kindness and empathy were some of the things about her that enchanted him every moment he spent with her. And sometimes he thought that maybe he could have a place next to her, even with his monstrous appearance and questionable personality ⸻ she always made him want to be the best version of himself, even if he didn't know what that was yet.
"Y/n..." Sukuna's voice came out with a softness that startled him, "I want to take the chance to tell you something."
"You can tell me anything you want, I'm all ears."
"I..."
"MASTER! MASTER!" Gojo, the candelabra, ran toward the couple, who were lost in their own world.
"What is it, Gojo?" Sukuna's voice came out harsher than the tone he had used before.
"The castle is being attacked!" Gojo said in despair.
"By whom?" Sukuna's hands tightened slightly around the girl's waist, pulling her closer to his body.
"I think they are villagers, and your father is with them." Gojo turned to the young woman.
"My father? Is my father here?"
"Yes, but it looks like he's under arrest."
"Gojo, take Y/n to a safe place. If they want to come, let them come."
"What? But what about you, Sukuna?" the young woman looked at him worriedly.
"Don't worry, just do as I say." Sukuna slowly released the woman from his arms. "I'll take care of any disturbances, just stay safe."
"But I don't want to leave you."
"You're not leaving me, you're just protecting yourself from danger. That's what's best for you."
"I can decide what's best for me!"
"I'm well aware of that." Sukuna laughed weakly, "Just let me take care of it, and I'll get back to you safely."
"Promise me?"
"I promise."
The young woman followed Gojo to one of the farthest rooms in the castle, promising the chandelier that she would stay there until everything was settled. As soon as Gojo left, Y/n paced the room, thinking of a plan to rescue her imprisoned father. Sukuna and the castle staff would be busy fighting the townspeople, and it would be the perfect time for her to act in secret.
Determined, she opened the glass door leading to the balcony and assessed the distance; fortunately, she wasn't too high up to take a fatal fall. She opened the wardrobe and took out all the cloth she could find, tying the end of each into a tight knot to make a makeshift rope. With the rope in her hand, she threw it across the balcony, tying one end to the railing. A little clumsy, this being the first time she had done anything so radical, she jumped off the balcony, holding tightly to her rope, and climbed down calmly, looking straight up. Once on the ground, Y/n ran as fast as she could, looking for an exit ⸻ or entrance ⸻ that would lead her to the castle gates.
"Dad!" she cried in a low tone so as not to draw attention to herself when she spotted a cart stopped near the entrance to the castle.
"Daughter?" Her father's weak voice caught her attention.
"Dad!" she ran to the wagon, worried. "Are you all right?"
"I wonder if you're alright! Did Gaston manage to save you?"
"Gaston?" she asked as she searched for a stone to break the lock.
"Yes! When I returned to the village, I asked Gaston and the others to help me free you from that monster."
"Dad, Sukuna is not a monster!" The girl used all her strength and smashed the stone against the padlock, breaking the object and freeing her father.
"How is he not a monster, dear?"
"He's kind and brave, he can be polite when he wants to be. I realized that he's not a monster." The young woman hugged her father.
"Oh dear, you're in love with him..." the older man said more like a statement than a question.
"What? No, we're just friends." She looked away, embarrassed by her father's words.
"I think we'd better stop Gaston then, he's come with the intention of killing him," her father said worriedly.
"What?" she looked at her father wide-eyed, "Father, stay here, please!" The woman grabbed the hem of her dress and ran to the castle entrance, watching the chaos unfold around her. The townspeople were fighting the castle furniture, which was actually its bewitched inhabitants.
"Miss!" Gojo's voice caught the young woman's attention. "You're supposed to be in your room. What are you doing here? Master Sukuna will kill me if he finds out you're not safe!"
"I have to find Sukuna," she said desperately, climbing the stairs, "Gaston will attack him, I can't let that happen!"
"But Miss, that's dangerous!" Gojo tried to stop the girl, but to no avail.
"And Sukuna is in danger!"
The young woman ran until her feet hurt, and when she reached the hall where she and Sukuna had danced minutes before, as if they were the only two in the world. However, the sound of a gunshot and an agonizing scream caught the girl's attention and pulled her out of her thoughts.
“SUKUNA!”
"Y/n?" Sukuna turned to the girl, looking frightened, as if he had seen a ghost.
"Gaston..." the young woman whispered as she saw the brunette stand up and point his gun in Sukuna's direction.
Without thinking, the young woman ran up to Gaston and threw herself on him, knocking the gun out of his hands. Y/n stood up and threw the gun out of Gaston's reach.
"Oh, my beautiful lady! I've finally found you! Your father has been worried about your disappearance!" Gaston stood up with a smile, "If you'll excuse me, I have a monster to kill!"
"He's not a monster, Gaston!"
"Oh dear, don't tell me you're going to defend that monster?"
"Like I said, he's not a monster. And if anyone is the monster here, it's you, Gaston!"
"What did you say?"
"That you are the monster here!"
"You bitch–" Before he could finish his speech, Gaston punched Y/n in the face, and as the girl fell to the floor in surprise at the sudden impact, the man kicked her in the stomach, sending her rolling across the floor of the hall. And before Gaston could do anything, Sukuna punched him in the face.
"I'll make sure you never lay a finger on her again." Sukuna grabbed Gaston's neck and led him out onto the balcony.
"Please! Please don't kill me!"
"You should have thought twice before you touched her with your filthy fingers."
"Sukuna!" The young woman's voice made Sukuna lose focus on the man he was holding by the neck. "Don't kill him!"
"But he-"
"Please"
Sukuna took a deep breath and looked back at the man, who was almost out of breath. Sukuna left Gaston on the ground, coughing to catch his breath as he turned and headed for the girl on the ground, but something hit him in the side of his body. He staggered backward in fear, seeing the dagger in his waist, and fell with someone else. Gaston, who was behind Sukuna, overbalanced and fell off the balcony, letting out a pained and desperate scream.
"SUKUNA!" Y/n ran over to the man crouched on the ground.
"Are you all right?" Sukuna asked, reaching for the young woman's warm cheeks."You should be safe. Why are you here?"
"I was scared..."
"How could an impudent girl like you be afraid?" The man smiled provocatively as he lay on his back on the floor, feeling the blood run down his side.
"I went to save my dad," Y/n controlled the urge to cry, "and I wanted to know if you were okay."
"Did you really think I would lose to a guy like that?"
"Sukuna... I'm scared..."
"It's okay, I'm here. I promised I wouldn't leave, I'll keep that promise."
"I want to be with you... by your side." The young woman leaned down, resting her cheek against the man's bare chest.
"Y/n... I have something to tell you." Sukuna felt his heart beating heavily against his chest.
"Hmm?"
"I love you."
"Do you..." Y/n stood up in surprise and looked at Sukuna, "Do you love me?"
"Very much."
"I... I love you too." A broad smile formed on the girl's lips.
Sukuna's hand reached Y/n's face before reaching her neck and pulling her into a soft kiss. Sukuna's heart, which had been celebrating the mutuality of the girl's feelings, melted as soon as the young woman's soft, delicate lips met his ⸻ a warm, comfortable feeling settled in his chest. When they pulled away, Sukuna found his forehead on hers, and their breaths became one. Slowly, Y/n pulled away and opened her eyes, surprised by the sight before her.
"Sukuna... you..."
"What about me?" The man looked uncertainly at the woman before him.
"You no longer have four arms and four eyes!"
"What?" He stood up quickly and looked down at himself. The wound from Gaston's dagger had disappeared, as had a pair of arms. Around him, the castle was angelic and glowing again, shedding its monstrous appearance.
The spell was broken.
And he was free again.
"Thank you..." Sukuna hugged Y/n tightly.
"Why do you thank me?" The young woman broke the hug and got up from the ground, standing in front of Sukuna.
"For loving me even when I was a monster." His voice was lower than usual. Maybe he wasn't quite used to all this new feeling.
"As I said, you deserve many of the good things the world has to offer."
"Speaking of which, I think we can get to know the world now, as you said, look for new perspectives."
"We?"
"And why shouldn't we?"
"You really want to take me with you to see the world?" Y/n looked at him excitedly.
"I promised to stay by your side, didn't I? And by the way, I don't think I could have a better partner than you to look for a new perspective on things." Sukuna smiled and pulled Y/n around her waist, pressing their lips together once more in a sweet, quiet kiss. "I want you by my side, forever."
"If you thought that impertinent girl would ever let you go, you thought wrong." Y/n wrapped her arms around Sukuna's neck, bringing their faces closer as she smiled, "I love you too much to let you go. Whether you're human or monster, I'll stay by your side, forever."
"Just so you know, there's no turning back. You'll be by my side forever from now on." Sukuna smiled teasingly.
"That doesn't sound like a bad idea." The young woman quickly sealed her lips with Sukuna's.
Sukuna was free of a spell that condemned him for his past actions, and now he would fall under the spell that was the love he felt for the girl in front of him without any regrets.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
© SEONGHRTZ, 2024ㅤ⸻ㅤall rights reserved. please do not copy / steal / translate / modify any of my works !
505 notes · View notes
midnottart · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
❄️ The Matriarch • Angrboða, mother of monsters and mate of Loki
340 notes · View notes
flokali · 3 months
Text
♢ I own you, I love you | Tartaglia
Tumblr media
warnings: yandere, dub/con, male m.asturbation, violence, threats, corruption, unrealistic sound-isolation, delusional thoughts, possessive behavior (from childe), childe/tartaglia lore-spoilers, canon divergence (maybe?), misunderstanding/miscommunication, manipulative behavior (from ajax) , unreliable narrator (ajax), ask to tag more.
pairing: afab! fem! reader x childe
word count: 10.7k
a/n: after months... here it is;; i'm so sorry for taking so long (tt),, i'll make it up to you !! istg (huhuh)
— 18+
Tumblr media
You had trouble falling asleep ever since the day Ajax went missing.
It was meant to be yet another normal day, one that would blend in with all the others – muddled with other memories of childhood. Instead, it became the day your life began to change in ways you hadn’t even fathomed possible. 
It had heavily snowed the previous night, which left a brand new layer of pure white to cover the humble roads of Morepesok. Normally, after such a heavy storm, you and Ajax would go over to his house and play inside – making use of the fireplace his father had built and hot chocolate his mother would make to keep warm. You both would steal his father’s diary and read about his adventures across Teyvat, recreating the scenes in your minds with yourselves as the main characters, before sharing your dreams with one another.
You never had the courage back then to tell him your ideal adventure was a rather simple one, while you always dreamt of moving to a less snowy nation, one like Mondstatd or even Sumeru, you were content with peacefully traveling across Teyvat before settling down. You didn’t want to spend your life fighting monsters and exploring the world, you only really longed for a simple life, where you could work a safe job and create a new home for yourself and those you loved. It was fun to imagine yourself on a long, rewarding journey across the nation to complete a request, but you’d rather keep it as just that – a figment of your imagination.
Ajax, on the other hand, longed for the chance to become a warrior. While never too skilled with the blade, always too nervous to even kill an animal, his determination was enough to convince you he’d one day make a great adventurer like his father. He’d longed for the thrill of exploring every corner of Teyvat, roaming the land until there was nowhere in this world where he hadn’t been to. Meeting new people, learning about new cultures, fighting monsters and gaining the freedom that came with being an adventurer; Ajax’s dreams had been clear from a young age.
A part of you, albeit really, insignificantly small, always wished he’d never succeed, secretly hoping he’d leave those ambitions behind with age and become a fisherman or craftsman instead. You’d heard tales of men and women who’d joined the Adventurer’s Guild only to never come back, and even more about those who’d joined the Fatui’s ranks, and you didn’t like the idea of waking up one day to find out he’d passed in a foreign land. It was selfish, you knew that, but you hoped that maybe he’d choose a safer option, one where you two could live together, away from the cold winters of Snezhnaya and safe from the dangers of the world. Maybe you’d both move away from Morepesok, find a quaint town in Fontaine where you’d both settle down and continue being friends, or maybe more, with no worries for each other’s safety - only busy being happy and healthy.
While you were putting on your boots and coat, making sure to layer as many clothes as you could to avoid the freezing cold temperatures that came with such heavy snowfall, you remember feeling an odd sense of uneasiness, a queasy feeling settling down in your stomach making you feel sick and nauseous. At the time you had thought nothing of it, too focused on meeting up with your friend and the taste of his mother’s hot coco, but now, years later, you think it was the Tsaritsa’s way to warn you for what was to come.
You remember nearing his house, confused as to why he hadn’t met you halfway down the road like he always did. It was quiet, eerily so, only the sound of your boots and your labored breath as you battled your way through the snow. There were no kids out on the street, all the adults that would normally be on their way were missing, even the birds seemed hesitant to chirp.
Instead, you find his mother worriedly looking around the perimeters of their humble cabin, her normally neat appearance now disheveled. Her long, ginger hair was half-hazardly put up, her clothes were wrinkled, her coat wasn’t even buttoned up all the way, but she stood there, frantically looking around.Whenever you’d come over, you and Ajax would always bump into one another before racing home to see who’d get there first, but today there was his mother’s choked sobs where normally his laughter would ring.
“Auntie?” You asked, running the rest of the way as you saw her expression, the closer you got the clearer the worry in her face became and you felt yourself grow anxious.
“Sweetie,” she looks at you in surprise, not having seen you approaching - too preoccupied to hear your unsteady footsteps as you struggled to run towards her, you see her blue eyes frantically look behind you and you follow suit, “A-Ajax, he wouldn’t have been with you, right?”
“No…” You shake your head, the previous feeling in your stomach expanding across your body, your head felt fuzzy as you asked, “Isn’t he home?”
“I… I’m afraid not,” She looks distressed at your words, her eyes water as she ushers you inside while still trying to look around to see if she caught sight of her son’s bright ginger hair against the cold white that coated the roads, her hands are shaking as she holds yours and brings you into her home, “Come inside, come inside – it’s too cold out t-there, you’ll get sick.”
Behind you, you hear more people arrive, you’re almost certain you hear your parents as well, but you have no time to ask before the worried mother shakes her head at the curious adults that looked up at her – the atmosphere worsens at the realization he hadn’t snuck out to be with you, she tries to occupy herself by taking you inside so as to not give into hopelessness.
You’re confused, not too sure of what’s going on even as you see adults from around the village inside of the house, maps in their hands as they whisper about the boy’s possible whereabouts.
“Is Ajax… o-okay?” You ask, you start to feel afraid as you process their concerned faces, seeing all of these adults who’d always been smiling and assured look so worried and uncertain sent a chill down your spine.
Where was Ajax? Normally he’d be here, assuring you your imagination was running wild and that nothing was wrong, the empty space next you where he’d normally be felt awfully cold.
Nobody answers you, instead you’re taken to your friend’s room where his siblings were gathered. Their mom, who you've always called your auntie, kneels down in front of you, taking your smaller hands into hers and giving you a weak smile.
“Ajax will be fine, okay?” Her words are meant to comfort you but you feel like they’re more for herself in that moment, “He’s just… gone out for a while, but he’ll be back before you know it.”
You nod, not truly understanding what she meant but feeling as if that was the response she needed to hear.
She gives your forehead a small kiss, you feel a tear fall travel down her cheeks and into your hair but you say nothing as she leaves, noting how she desperately tried to conceal the tears in her eyes; You’d never seen her cry before and it’s only then, as you look at his siblings and the pained look in their faces, that you finally begin to grasp the severity of the situation.
He was missing. Your best friend was gone and no one had any idea where he had run off to.
That evening your parents came over and stayed the whole day with Ajax’s family, alongside the other townspeople who went and came as they searched for the young boy in the woods around the area. Normally, you had to fight tooth and nail to let them grant you permission to stay over but that night they’d been the ones to offer it first.
That night was the first and only time you had a sleepover without Ajax. You and his siblings huddled together in the living room, next to the fireplace as his mother looked over you all. You would wake up every so often to the sound of people coming and going as the search efforts seeped into the night and early morning.
The suffocating cycle repeated itself for three days. Three days, two nights, and one afternoon later, after countless hours crying to your parents in fear of losing your best friend; Ajax emerges from the woods in one piece, but he who returns is not the same boy.
The first thing that stood out was his disheveled hair, he was wearing the same clothes – which were in too good a condition for a kid who’d gotten lost in the woods by himself for three days –, and the hunting knife he’d stolen from his dad now dull as if it’d been used continuously for a long period of time. What shocked the men and women who’d found him was the blood on him – specks decorated his face and hands as he looked up at them from his position near the corpse of a bear, one easily three times his size, he’d somehow taken out. 
They’d found him in a clearing close to his house, the smell of blood had been what had alerted the rescue party – they’d prepared for the worst case scenario where the blood came from Ajax’s body, instead they found him to be in good shape even after three days by himself in the wild – perhaps a little too good, for it seemed he’d somehow taken down a beast by himself with his hands and his father’s old hunting knife. 
The news of his return quickly spreads, everyone gathered near his home as they awaited with bated breaths to see the young boy; you’re there as he’s reunited with his family, hugging your mother’s leg as tightly as you could.
Rumors spread about him having killed an animal, some claimed it had been a rabbit while others alleged it had been a beast the size of a horse, and you wondered if they had mistaken another kid for Ajax – he’d never had the guts to harm even a fly, you doubted he’d changed so much in the span of three days. But it seemed as if you’d been wrong.  
He doesn’t shed a tear, he doesn’t say a word. Not even a squeak as his parents coddle him; nothing at all. The only sounds are hushed whispers as people discuss the absurd situation and gleeful congratulations from onlookers as they celebrate his arrival and well being while giving his family well wishes. Instead, his blue eyes find yours and you’re unnerved at the empty look in them. Where there’s once been a warm light, you found an empty void that seemingly sucked you in and refused to let you go. You felt goosebumps arise all over your body the longer he looked at you.  Even as he’s embraced within his father’s arms, his family surrounding him as they cry from relief, it’s only when he makes eye contact with you that, the first time since arriving, he smiles.
You feel a chill travel down your spine as you realize Ajax hadn’t been the one to return that day. You unconsciously nestled closer into your mother’s coat, as if trying to hide from his unnerving gaze.
You did your best to ignore that unsettling feeling, opting to attribute it to the rumors you had heard instead of something your friend had done, you pushed it and as well as any doubts aside as you attempted to focus on the good news; he was here, home with his family and back next door to your own house, and that was all that really mattered.
Ever since then, he’d become more confident. His once timid personality completely disappeared and the days where you had been the stronger one, defending him from his older siblings’ teasing and the mocking from other kids, were now but hazy memories. The roles had switched quite suddenly, not that you minded it too much – there were times where it felt nice to be the one being protected rather than the protector, but it had been quite the surprise at first.
He’d become bolder and more protective, never afraid to throw a punch (and sometimes even more) if he felt like you had been disrespected. It came to a point where you’d sometimes grow suffocated by his mere presence; eventually it escalated to where he’d never let you hang out with anybody he didn’t approve of, afraid they’d hurt you and he wouldn’t be there to defend you, and he’d make sure to let it be known you were his friend first and foremost. Unknowingly, a set of rules had been implemented between the two of you. Rules that stated you were his responsibility to protect and care for, even if it meant it drove others away and left you two isolated from other kids your age.
There were times you missed the Ajax that’d gone into the woods, the freckled boy who was timid and polite – who’d rather be teased by his siblings than hurt even a bug the size of your pinky, you doubt that boy would have picked fights with kids twice his size because they’d made a joke or two that didn’t land too well. But you hesitated to dislike the new Ajax, after all, when it was only the two of you - it was as if that damned day had never occurred at all.
He was back to the sweet, delicate boy who’d blush at your jokes and avoid prolonged eye contact. Whose hand would grow warm from holding yours, who’d confess his feelings to you every night when he thought you’d fallen asleep. 
A few years later, once you were both older – now settled into your teen years, he ended up joining the Fatui and leaving your humble seaside village to go to the capital to train as a soldier. 
You cried the day he’d given you the news. As overbearing as he could be, the ginger had been your only friend that your parents consistently let you hang out with, you’d spent your whole lives together and the thought of being without him terrified you greatly.
You remember the look on his face, the way he desperately tried to look strong and not let a single tear get away, his hands that had once been soft were now calloused as he grabbed your own.
“I’ll come back for you, I promise.” He’d whispered, his lips near your ear as he enveloped you in a hug.
You don’t trust your voice not to break and so you nod, letting your nose burn from trying to contain your sobs and not worry him more than he already was.
“A-and I’ll write you letters, so you better not forget me,” he continues, and even if by now he’d long since grown taller than yourself – you’re amazed at how small and vulnerable he felt against your frame, “so please… wait for me.”
“Only if you always write to me first… ‘Cause I swear I’ll leave if you forget.” You try to lighten the mood, halfheartedly warning him as if you both didn’t know it’d take death itself for Ajax not to fulfill a promise from him to you. He tightens his arms around you and you feel a wave of nostalgia wash over you as you wonder how long it’ll be before you can both hug like this again.
“I promise.” He laughs softly, the sound warms your heart.
“Then I promise as well.”
Ever since the day Ajax went missing, you have had trouble falling asleep. 
When you did manage to fall asleep, a task which took longer than you’d like to admit without external factors such as medicine, your dreams would be strange and cryptic, often times you’d wake up in the middle of the night with a racing heartbeat and a sense of urgency, as if you’d been in danger; you’d learned to hate the images your brain would concoct during your rest. Some nights, you’d dream about that day and what would have happened if Ajax had never been found, other times you’d open the door to soldiers grieving his death; whatever tragic scenario your mind decided to present you, it would always be so realistic you’d wake up with tears streaming down your cheeks and a devastated heart.
This time, however, your sleep had come easier than expected and there were no dreams or nightmares to haunt you. No earthly worries were present and, after such an unexpected day filled with reunions and world-shattering news, you wished to succumb to a never ending night; however, the fates had other plans for you.
As you’re forcibly awakened from your slumber you feel a familiar, pleasant hand gently caressing your head. It felt gentle, their touch delicate and sweet, as if they were afraid any more force would hurt you. If the owner of said limb wished to lure you into consciousness, their touch had the opposite effect as it almost seemed to beg you to go back to sleep and forget the world of the living.
You felt truly content as you laid there, the blanket that laid atop of you was heavy and cozy,  a foreign feeling - nothing like the blankets you were used to, and the pillow smelt like an old friend, welcoming and nostalgic. It all felt like a perfect trap set out to catch you, if that were that case then you’d have to admit it was a little too good at its job as you resign yourself to cuddling closer to the fabrics that enveloped you.
If it hadn’t been for the gentle kiss pressed against your cheek, you probably would have never gotten up. You want to complain, already formulating a sentence of indignation and annoyance to throw at the perpetrator, but the warmth left behind by the gesture is cozy and fills you with a taste full of happiness and fulfillment you don’t want to sour. At the feeling of a pair of unknown, soft lips against your skin you become more alert, slowly your consciousness begins to enter the realm of the living once more while you grow aware of your surroundings. Your eyes open timidly, the leftover fatigue from such a deep rest keeping them heavy, it takes you a second or two to adjust to the light and another few to register the man that lovingly gazed down on you.
“Ajax…?” You call out, rubbing your eyes as you wonder if it really was him. You’re almost sure you’re dreaming, as embarrassing as it was to admit, it had been so long since you’d seen him in person you may have simply gone crazy and imagined the man to be here; You’re about to ask him what he was doing here, if he were real at all, but he beats you to the punch with a smile before answering you with a gleeful tone that reminds you of summers long gone.
“The one and only,” he laughs gently as the hand that laid atop your head began to ruffle your hair in a familiar gesture – reassuring you that he was, in fact, a real person and not a figment of your imagination you had come up with to deal with the loneliness, “… don’t tell me you forgot about earlier.”
He teases you, but there’s a hint of worry in his eyes as he awaits your answer; surely, you couldn’t have forgotten. It’d only been a couple of hours and he had been sure to be as thorough as possible so that he left a print on both your mind and body, there was no way you’d forget making love with your soulmate. Just the thought of it sent jolts of anger and frustration down his spine, not at you - never at you, but at himself as he wonders if maybe he’d underperformed and disappointed you to the point you’d try and act like nothing had happened. If that was the case, he was more than willing to go again just this instant to right any previous wrongs.
“Earlier?” You mumble, you wreck your brain trying to think of what he meant but it isn’t a full minute before you realize what he meant. If it hadn’t been for his words, maybe his coat laying on you and your sore body would have been enough to eventually jog your memory. You feel your cheeks grow hot as you remember what you two had done earlier, you’d been so tired by the end you’d fallen into a deep, dreamless slumber that momentarily left you empty-headed when you woke up, but now the memories are rushing in and you doubt you’ll be able to forget the feeling of Childe on top of you for a long time.
Your embarrassed gaze was enough for him to know you’d remembered the dance you’d both partaken in earlier that day, the way your eyes avoided his had his heart swooning and a warm, fuzzy feeling settling deep within his very soul. 
He feels himself calm down the more he looks at your flustered face, his whole body light and intoxicated on your sweet expressions; his pants felt so tight as he watched you fiddle with his coat, he wonders if he’d be able to warm you up on the ride back to his place the same way he’d done so previously.
You were absolutely adorable to him, so very weak and fragile in comparison to him – if he wasn’t such a gentleman, he would have loved to destroy you until you were too scared to leave his side. Alas, he decided that you shouldn’t be the one to face the sharp end of his blade, instead, he’ll scar your psyche and those around you so violently you’ll have no want nor need for anything else other than him.
“So, ‘slept well, my love?” He asks, his tone sweet as to never betray his darker thoughts — you didn’t have to know about how deeply he wished to break you until you couldn’t function without him by your side. You nod while suppressing a yawn, blissfully unaware of the chaos that was unfolding due to the man in front of you, and he laughs, content with your naïveté; he missed you oh so very much, “That’s good.”
There’s a warm, almost euphoric feeling that invaded your senses as you both took the time to enjoy each other’s presence; it felt different from earlier, something had changed now that you both had finally indulged in each other’s bodies. It felt akin to drinking a warm cup of tea, comforting and pleasurable, a reminder of home and the feeling of familiarity after a long period of impersonal and foreign coldness.
“Let’s get going then,” he breaks the silence, finally standing up from his crouching position, he gives you one last pat in the head before he starts making his way through your room and inspecting your belongings – or what remained of your belongings, “the carriage will be here soon, it’s only an hour long ride away but I think it’s best we take as much as we can today and send someone to pick up what remains.”
That’s when you notice he’s fully dressed, other than for his cape that was laid on you, as if he was anxiously awaiting the time to leave. You’re confused; why was he so keen on leaving and so fastly – he’d barely been here a handful of hours. Did you misunderstand his intentions? 
“What do you…?” You ask, you rub your eyes while you sit up, using the large coat as a cover once you feel chilly Snezhnayan air hit your sensitive skin. It’s then that you can finally look at the many bags and boxes that litter the floor, and the almost empty room you laid in. All of your belongings seemed to have been packed away, almost nothing remained other than old family portraits and gifts from your parents from across the years. 
“Huh?” The sight of your room packed into boxes was enough to wake you up, you instinctively try to stand up but a firm hand keeps you in place; you look up and see Ajax looking down at you. Your eyes meet and a chill goes up your spine at the look in his, they look eerily empty. You barely feel the coat slip from your shoulders, too focused on the feeling of his fingers against your forearm and the fact he, as a soldier, could easily overpower you if he wished.
“You’re still sleepy, aren’t you?” He asks, the muscles on his arm flex slightly as he speaks to you - he sounds disappointed as he continues interrogating you, “Do you really not remember?”
You shake your head, trying to wrack your brain for any indications of what he could be referring to; you remember the news about your parents and what happened after, but moving out? You have no memory of such a thing being even discussed, lest he meant —
“You agreed to marry me,” he says, as if reading your mind, your arm is finally set free as he adjusts the gloves on his hands, “and as my wife, you’ll be living with me from now on; I assumed you wouldn’t want to stay… here for much longer, considering everything.”
“Marry you…?” You echo as you watch him parade around your room, sharp eyes taking in what was left of your belongings on display. You vaguely remember his proposal during the first half of your conversation, something about how it’d serve as an obstacle for the arranged marriage – after all, it’s not as if the wife of a Fatui Harbinger’s marriage could be easily questioned or objected to. You had agreed almost immediately, even if you had your doubts about the reasoning behind the arrangement, you’d rather marry someone you knew than a stranger.
You wished you’d thought things through better, waited a bit longer before giving your answer. Clearly Ajax had made up his mind but now, after the shock of the news began to wear off, you felt like you owed your parents and yourself a discussion. Even if you felt betrayed, like their decision degraded you to an object instead of their daughter, you wanted to head their side; if only to get closure for your own aching heart.
Instead of answering you, Ajax turns around to meet your eyes. His eyes had always had the ability to suck you in like a void, they’re never clear - always muddy, like there was a side of himself he hid from you; you could never find your reflection on them. It took you a while to get used to them, to their empty, numb look that sent chills down your spine all those years ago.
The room feels small as you both look at each other, you sit on the bed naked and he stands in front of the door as if he were trapping you in, it’s silent and intimate and it makes your skin crawl. His expression is one you can’t read, maybe all those years in the Fatui had taught him how to make his enemies cower thanks to his presence alone, because the harder you tried to understand what his gaze meant, the less you felt you knew about him.
“Yes, you said you’d marry me.” He states and, even if it wasn't phrased as such, it felt more like an order than a recalling of events. 
“I know,” you mumble, “and I… I like you, Ajax, I really do, and I’d love to be with you, but… but  I can’t run away from this without hearing them out, you know?”
“You said you loved me.” His expression changes into a frown; Had you lied to him? 
He probably sounds childish, his sentences short and repetitive like that of a toddler throwing a tantrum, but the truth was he simply couldn’t believe that you’d even hesitate to marry him; his brain completely short-circuited as he tries to understand why on Earth you’d ever think of giving anybody a chance when you had him.
“I mean, I-I do,” your cheeks feel hot as you’re quick to answer, at least you think you love him, “but… mom and dad wouldn’t just do this without a reason and you know that. I can’t just leave and never see them again without their explanation, even if it’s bad… I need some sort of closure; I can’t accept they’d just do this to me for no reason.”
“As if that changed anything, they gave your hand away for Mora, my love” He retorts, completely bewildered at your words; they’d tried to give you away to some lowlife, they hadn’t consulted you, they were going to spring it up on you one day and expect you to get over it the next, “Does a reason even matter?” 
“It does, at least I… I think it does,” you look down at yourself and notice droplets falling down against the coat, staining the heavy leather with your sorrow, you were crying and hadn’t even realized it, “I don’t want to hate them… I don’t want them to hate me.”
He goes quiet when he catches sight of your tears. He freezes, his chest tightens and he feels himself grow dizzy – it’s the same foreign feeling he got when he first heard of the engagement, he feels his knees buckle under his weight and himself sway with every step he takes in your direction. They were beautiful, your tears, so delicate and clear, they shone like crystals when the soft afternoon light came through the window just right; he wishes he could collect them in his palm and weave a necklace to keep with himself, a reminder of your fragile heart he desperately needed to protect. 
You looked so vulnerable, naked and crying, covered only by his coat. It was an intoxicating sight, he wished he could take a photograph and engrave it on his eyelids so every time he blinked he’d see this scene play out. You broke so beautifully, it was haunting to hear your voice break into sobs and wails as you mourned the life you thought you had, but it sounded beautiful to his ears nonetheless. It makes him feel insane, it was taking too much self-control from his part not to jump on you.
He sits down once more next to you, shaking limbs trapping you in his arms as he rubbed your back softly. As you cried uncontrollably, he found his cheeks hurting from the large grin on his face; it couldn’t be helped, no matter how much he tried to will it away, the joy he felt as he saw you cry was too much for him to hide.
“It’s okay,” he makes no effort to quell your fears, instead he chooses vague words of comfort to let it fester in your heart, “you won’t need to see them ever again, you’ll have me instead.”
He feels you hiccup, too deep in your own despair to formulate words. Your shaking body clings to his, you felt so scared and alone; How were you supposed to accept such a cruel, unforgiving truth? What could you possibly do to ease the pain in your heart as you thought about your parents and siblings, who had so easily given you away to a stranger. They felt so far away from you, it felt as if your whole life had been a long dream, nothing but a fantasy you were unaware could break any second, leaving you afraid and confused as you awakened to a reality you could have never seen coming.
“Come, I’ll help you get dressed,” Ajax helps you up as he speaks, essentially forcing you to face reality and displace the fogginess in your mind, he’s gentle as he makes his way with you to your closet - you vaguely note that it was still full, unlike the rest of your room it seemed he hadn’t touched it save for a few drawers here and there -, “the sooner you get ready,” he keeps an arm around you while he goes through the rack of your clothes, making sure you stay close to him, “the sooner we can get out of here.”
You nod, your head hurts but you can’t seem to stop the tears. 
Maybe he was right, maybe it was a bad idea for you to talk to them; there was truly no excuse, was there? You doubted anything they’d say would take the feeling of betrayal away, they had treated you like an object, completely forfeiting your own personhood and giving you away to a stranger for Mora. No matter how desperately you wanted to understand what they’d done and why they’d done it, the more your head and heart hurt – it was such a cruel, heartless thing to do, to throw away your own blood to whoever bid the highest for them.
You can’t even muster the strength to facilitate the Harbinger’s task of dressing you, your whole body felt heavy as he made sure to layer on your clothes, it was near impossible for you to even stand up by yourself without your legs swaying and your knees buckling under your weight. It’s only due to the ginger’s persistence and strength that you don’t collapse.
By the time you’re ready and boarding the carriage, you’re tired and too drunk in your own misery, to question why, even as it neared nighttime, your parents nor your siblings hadn’t come home yet. Not that you cared, at least not right now, seeing them was the last thing you wanted to do.
The ride home is peaceful, you’d fallen asleep early on and laid beside Childe as he caressed your sleeping cheek and gazed out the window. Your head laid on his lap, broad thighs becoming a make-shift pillow for the ride, a blanket covering your body to keep you warm while you both made your way to his residence in the capital through the cold night.
Bored, deep blue eyes mindlessly gaze at the scenery passing by, his thoughts too jumbled together for him to admire the scenery. His thoughts stray back to your mother’s horrified face as she walked in on you together in bed earlier, he chuckles to himself as he recalls the screech she let out; it felt nice to see her so uncomfortable, but it wasn’t nice enough he’d forgive her for what she’d tried to do to you; Separate you from him.
“Ajax?” She finally gasps out, her hand points at him in an accusatory manner, “What… what is going on?” 
When did that boy come back? He’d been gone for years, the last she remembered him was as a young teenager going off to join the Fatui; what was he doing in bed with you? You hadn’t mentioned him once during all these years, she had thought you’d long since forgotten about him. So why on Earth was he laying in bed with you - naked? Had he pressured you to do so? You two had such a close relationship, there was no way you wouldn’t have mentioned him to her if you two were dating - her mind was racing with a million thoughts and all of them left her worried and confused. It’s clear she’s not doing well, her breaths are visibly unsteady, her chest rising and falling unevenly while she audibly gasped for air, she’s shaking so hard you can see her knees wobble as she tries to steady herself against the doorframe; this wasn’t something she could have ever seen in coming. 
Ajax couldn’t care less, the whole spectacle was boring and wholly unnecessary; she wouldn’t get to see you ever again, she should be grateful he hadn’t simply taken you home with him the minute he saw you. 
“I came back for my beloved,” he answers carelessly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, he makes a vague gesture towards your sleeping form as if to make the point clearer, “can’t have a wedding without a bride, after all.”
“Wedding? You and her… are getting married?” 
“Yes, is it that hard to understand? Come on, ma’am, everyone could see that she and I were going to get married,” he scoffs, “you said so yourself multiple times.”
“But,” she looks visibly confused, “that was back when you two were together everyday, Ajax… you haven’t seen each other in years. You can’t seriously think that you’re getting married because you both said so when you were children.”
The audacity this woman had was near parody, clearly she knew nothing about you nor your life and it made him feel sick. She had the privilege to be a constant part of your life during all those years he was away and yet she clearly spent them doing Archons’ knows what, he was growing visibly angry the more she spoke.
“We’ve known each other long enough,” he shoots her a glare, “and I’ve known my whole life I’d marry her, whether we’ve been seeing each other everyday or not - we’re getting married and that’s final.”
“Did she agree to this?” Your mother asks, her voice rising until it was near a squeak.
“Of course she agreed to marry me!” He snaps, his tone venomous; Could she just shut the hell up already?
“Then why didn’t she mention it to her father nor myself?”
“Because we agreed to get married today,” he puts your sleeping body aside, slowly standing up and tying a loose blanket around his hips, “and neither of you were here.”
“Today?” She echos, “You came back today and asked her to marry you?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I did,” he shoots her a glance as he picks up his clothes, slowly putting them on as he goes on, “and she said yes, I think you get the point by now.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” she mumbled to herself, she made her way inside the room, careful as to not wake you up, “there’s no way she was serious about marrying you. You… you’re practically a stranger to all of us at this point, Ajax.”
His pants were on at this point, his blouse now balled into his fist as he tried to control his annoyance. This was starting to get pathetic on her end.
“I will have you know,” he interrupts her, turning around to make eye contact with the woman once more to make his point clear, “that not only have we been in constant communication since I left, she agreed quite happily to the proposal - I don’t understand what exactly is not clicking, ma’am.”
“Of course she’d agree,” she exclaims, her hands flying up in desperation as she continues, “she has liked you all her life; but were you two dating until this point? What even was the relationship between you two; how am I supposed to support her getting engaged with a man we haven’t seen or heard from in years. Never once did she mention you, Ajax, she never spoke of a partner much less a marriage, all her life she’s made it clear that’s one of the least of her concerns and you want me to believe her mind changed in one day because you came and had sex with her? You’re insane if you think I’ll allow it.”
He feels himself freeze, most of what she’s said up until now feels like background noise the moment he finishes processing her words. You never mentioned him to your parents? He knew you hadn’t mentioned the letters, not all of them at least - he’s asked you not to, but never once in the almost eight years since he left had you mentioned him - not even as a potential suitor nor as a lover. That hag is lying, right? There’s no way you’d do this to him, right? You loved him, you said you did when he was fucking you just minutes ago, you wouldn’t lie to him, no.
“Listen to me, I don’t care if you want to get married to her - but there’s an order to how things are done,” your mother shoots your sleeping form a glance, “you could have at least let us know beforehand you’d be coming, you… you should have spoken to us; you know we would have given you our blessing if you’d waited a bit longer. This is the first time you’ve seen each other in years, emotions are running high - at least give her some more time to think this through, you already bedded her… don’t make this harder on her - she was beginning to move on, she’d been planning to move and now you’re telling me she’s throwing it all away? For a man she’s barely seen in years no less.”
“You’re… you’re wrong.” He mumbles under his breath, “You’re wrong, we both love each other.”
“Listen to me,” had your mother’s voice always been so grating to the ear, “she might have said yes to you now but how do you know she won’t regret it? When did you ask her? Today, the same day you come for the first time to see her? You think that under all the emotions that’ll come up seeing you again she’ll be thinking rationally? Was this even a conversation you both had previously, Ajax? How are you so sure she loves you like a wife and not just as a friend?”
His movements slow down, his hands feel heavy as he buttons up his shirt; can she just shut up? What did she think she was doing, lying to get him out of the way? Insinuating you’d ever regret him, what a joke - you needed him to survive.
“I’m saying this not just as a parent but as a wife, you can’t rush into these things, you can’t spring the question up suddenly and not take the time to consider it properly! You… you immediately had sex with her and you want me to believe this is out of love and not physical attraction? You couldn’t even wait for her father and I to get home. You’re telling me that both of you are completely sure of what you’re doing, you want me to believe that? I’m not letting my daughter make such a rash decision in a day -”
“So what if it was in only a day, huh? You’re just looking for any excuse to oppose us getting together,” he’s quick to interrupt her, “because you are trying to get her to marry some old fuck for some quick mora.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” 
“You think I don’t know, huh? You don’t care about her at all, do you? Lying to me that she’d never mention me, as if you didn’t know we were together all this time… acting like you care about her when there’s some fucking bitch downstairs you sold her off to.”
“What… What's this about selling my daughter?” “Don’t act stupid on me,” he doesn’t even bother buttoning the rest of his shirt before he’s pushing your mother out of the room and following her out the door, “I tried to be civil, but I’m getting really damn tired of you criticizing us and you keep on lying.”
She hits her back against the wall, she yelps in surprise but the Harbinger makes no acknowledgement of any discomfort he may be causing. Instead, gloved hands shoot up and take hold of her shoulders as he continues going at her; there’s a crazed look in his eyes as he keeps on speaking, getting progressively annoyed the longer the conversation went on.
“We – I, we never sold her off,” your mother pants, she looks up at him in confusion and fear, “who do you take us for?”
“I have the records,” he pushes her down, “there’s no use in lying to me, ma’am – I know everything I need to know.”
“You’re crazy,” she spits out, “you’re fucking crazy… I don’t what the fuck happened to you, but I’m sure as hell now that you are absolutely not getting anywhere near my daughter!”
“Shut up!” He picks her up and throws her against the wall, there’s a loud thud as her body slowly sinks into the ground, he corners her with his body, “Shut the fuck up, you hag.”
“Let go!” Tears are streaming down her eyes as she pleads,“Help, someone help! Please, upstairs… come upstairs now!”
“Listen here,” his eyes are wide open, his posture threatening as he leans over her shaking body, he’s rough in his handling of her and he knows it but chooses not to care, “she said she’d marry me, she said she loves me, she said so and so it is. There’s no debate, got it? If I want to fuck her two minutes after seeing her, I do so, and if I want to marry her after not seeing her for years, I do so. We don’t need a lying bitch getting in our way, you understand that, right? I don’t need you taking her away from me to give her to someone else. She was mine before I left, she was mine when I left, she’s mine right now, and she’ll be mine as long as I’m alive, so you either shut up and accept it or I’ll get rid of you and your fucking mistake of a family.”
“Listen here,” his eyes are wide open, his posture threatening as he leans over her shaking body, he’s rough in his handling of her and he knows it but chooses not to care, “she said she’d marry me, she said she loves me, she said so and so it is. There’s no debate, got it? If I want to fuck her two minutes after seeing her, I do so, and if I want to marry her after not seeing her for years, I do so. We don’t need a lying bitch getting in our way, you understand that, right? I don’t need you taking her away from me to give her to someone else. She was mine before I left, she was mine when I left, she’s mine right now, and she’ll be mine as long as I’m alive, so you either shut up and accept it or I’ll get rid of you and your fucking mistake of a family.”
“Get off of her!” 
Oh, your father was here.
It’s strange to think that at some point, Ajax would have considered him something akin to a second father - especially now as his stomach filled itself with venomous rage at the mere sight of the older man.
“I said get off,” he runs towards the younger soldier, at an impressive speed for a man his age, his hands lunge forward as if to tackle him but it takes one hydro blade’s slash for him to stop dead in his tracks, “I… what do you want?”
Your father looks visibly worried as the ginger brands his weapon, the sight of an unfamiliar vision user threatening your spouse is one that would make anyone think twice before taking their next step. 
“Do you seriously not recognize me?” Tartaglia laughs incredulously, “Come on, sir… I was only gone for a couple of years.”
“Ajax?” Your mother nods her head frantically as your father finally puts a name to the face of the strange man in his house, “What the hell are you doing, boy?”
“He’s going on about,” your mother gasps for air, “marrying her and - and, us selling her or something!” The awkward position she found herself in made it hard for her to comfortably speak, even so, she made sure to spit it out as quickly as possible. Her chest is heaving while she desperately tries to make your father understand the absurdity of the situation, the hydro blade in his hand was simply too close to her skin for her comfort - the power of Harbinger was nothing to scoff at and she wanted nothing more than to never find herself in this position ever again.
“We can talk this out,” your father’s hands shake as he tries to slowly approach the ginger, “there’s clearly been a misunderstanding…”
“There has been no misunderstanding, sir,” he laughs, “I know damn well what I saw and what I heard.”
“We would never -” “Yes, you would!” He nearly shouts, but he restrains himself - if only because you’re still sleeping nearby, his whole body shakes as he tries to control the volume of his voice, “And I’m getting really fucking tired of you acting like you wouldn’t, you know? Just admit it and maybe, just maybe, we can work things out.”
“We would never hurt our daughter like that, Ajax,” the older man tries to explain, “please, understand that… let my wife go and we can talk this out properly, please.”
“Talk it out?” Ajax looks at him incredulously, “There’s nothing to talk about if you won’t admit to your mistakes, sir.” “B-but we didn’t -”
“Shut up!” His blue eyes are wide open, the crazed look in them was enough to send a chill down a grown man’s body. Why couldn’t they just admit to trying to separate the both of you? Why were they so desperate to lie? He knows what he heard, he knows they were trying to ruin his chances to be with you. They were clearly trying to get in his way, they had to be conspiring against the two of you - there was no other reason as to why you’d been so hesitant to agree to his proposal, why you’d been scared to see the truth; they were brainwashing you into forgetting him, doubting him. They had to have known he’d come back, there was no way he wouldn’t have, it’d take death itself for him to give up on you.
He couldn’t take it anymore, he couldn’t stand to listen to your parents’ pathetic attempts at covering up their lies.
Your mother’s words die in her throat as he knocks her out with a single blow, it’s by sheer luck the impact against her skull hadn’t straight up killed her. Your father doesn’t even get to react, not even a pip can be mumbled, before Tartaglia is making his way towards him at rapid speeds, the young man’s strength was enough to tackle him down. The Fatui soldier makes sure to use as much strength as possible, all in an attempt to get his opponent to knock his head against something and pass out with as little fuss as possible. 
It’s almost pathetic how quickly he’d taken both of them down, in just a few minutes the couple was knocked out cold - not yet dead nor mortally injured but not awake, no longer able to annoy Ajax or disturb you.
It’s almost pathetic how quickly he’d taken both of them down, in just a few minutes the couple was knocked out cold, both lying motionless on the ground, their limbs sprawled awkwardly; not yet dead but no longer able to annoy Ajax or disturb you, much to the former’s delight.
Footsteps could be heard from the first floor as the guests downstairs started getting worried, standing up and roaming around calling your parents’ names - too polite to dare wander into the house but too anxious about their absence to stay completely still, the thick wooden floors muffled the sounds but not enough that the commotion upstairs couldn’t be heard. One of the many benefits of Snezhnayan architecture was the isolation you could achieve in a big enough house, he’ll keep it in mind when he picks a house to start a family with you in.
Due to your house’s size, Ajax wouldn’t have to worry too much about Andrei or his parents hearing too much, meaning he’d be able to keep the element of surprise.
The Vision user knew he’d have to avoid the dining room, the place where the guests currently found themselves, lest he lose control and kill his former subordinate the minute he laid eyes on him, however his reasoning was anything but noble; Tartaglia simply wasn’t too keen on the idea of letting him get away with his crimes just yet. 
To him, death would be too soft a punishment, it would have to be a fate worse than, not just for Andrei but every single person who was involved in the scheme.
His gloved hands make their way to check their pulses, both weak but still there - good. 
With a satisfied huff he makes his way down the hall and staircase, quick to dismiss his signature hydro blades as he purposely makes his presence known with loud, rhythmic footsteps any soldier who’d served under him would recognize.
Years of hanging out under this very roof meant Ajax knew exactly where your back entrance was, which meant that he could enjoy instilling a sense of dread into the people downstairs without risking being found.
With a lazy smirk, Ajax purposely lets a couple of framed pictures and paintings fall from the wall, his hand tracing the walls and making sure to create as much sound as possible. As he approaches the dining room, he can hear the confused, hushed whispers as someone tries to peek into the hallway but, by the time the young man finally reaches the door to look around, Ajax has long since exited the house as he makes his way to recall the soldiers he’d stationed around the neighborhood.
With a wave of his hand soldiers seemingly appeared from thin air, emerging from bushes and rounding dark corners, soon the Harbinger is surrounded by men awaiting his orders.
“Is the Galkin residency ready?” He asks, making direct eye contact with a shorter soldier.
“Yes, sir.” The man nods.
“Good,” he combs a hand through his hair as he looks at your childhood home, “there’s a knocked out couple on the second floor, the rest are in the dining room.”
“Yes, sir.” A chorus of voices respond, mechanically a group of the soldiers turn around and march into the house.
“Keep it down, will you? If they scream, knock them out,” he adds half-heartedly, “she’s sleeping, so don’t wake her up.”
The leader of the group nods enthusiastically, making sure to echo the sentiment to his men before making their way inside the house.
As their operation takes place, Tartaglia turns back around to address his remaining companions; “Make sure to make it look as realistic as possible, we need the charges to stick.”
“Yes, sir.”
He asks to see the boxes full of fabricated evidence one last time. There are at least six large boxes filled to the brim, but he focuses on one. The one that holds the most damning evidence for the most serious crime anyone could commit in the land of Cryo; Treason against the Tsaritsa. Cold, blue eyes look with a gleeful glint at the falsified letters, penned to look exactly like your family members’ handwriting, there’s more; photographs, bank records, falsified shipment records, and more.
He gives one final nod, officially sealing everyone’s fates. From this moment onwards, your family and the Galkin’s would be charged with treason against the Tsaritsa and conspiracy to overthrow the Fatui. Sure, many others, perhaps even innocent people, will unjustly be implicated but he’ll make sure to pin this on the worst people he can. He’ll get rid of two birds with one stone while he’s at it.
It takes only a couple of minutes before everyone is being pulled outside of the house and led into carriages. It’s a humiliating sight, the ones who were awake were panicked, some even crying, the ones who had to be subdued needed to be carried by two or more people as they were unceremoniously dragged away.
Ajax purposely hides away, making sure to make a mental note of who was being taken and their condition. Andrei and his father are the only Galkin family members out of the four present who hadn’t been knocked out. Your parents, your eldest sister, and younger brother are knocked out - your elder brother, and your other sister are the only ones awake. There are a couple of other people, their partners, and a few he didn’t recognize immediately. In total, there were 16 people taken from your home.
Tartaglia made a point to only reveal himself as they finally dragged Andrei out, the final person out the house. His hands were bound behind him, a confused look clear in his eyes as he desperately tried to understand what was going on. His green eyes finally make contact with Ajax’s, they widen.
“Sir? What is going on -” He’s cut off by a harsh shove from the soldier walking him, he stumbles.
Ajax almost feels bad at the sight, Andrei was a good man - if only he didn’t try to get with you. He was young, unlike the idea he’d planted into your head, Galkin had only recently turned 27 last month, and he’d been a promising soldier until he was honorably discharged after a failed mission took the lives of most of his troupe. However, if you found out about his closeness in age to yourself, you’d probably not have reacted as poorly - maybe you’d even think about giving the fucker a chance. After all, people like Andrei - honorable young men who sacrificed a part of himself for his nation - were always appealing to the masses. But never as appealing as Ajax was to you, he couldn’t be.
The Harbinger turns around on his heels, not even sparing another glance to the arrested individuals, before making his way inside your house.
It’s filled with strangers, their serious faces evident as they set up the scene - their movements calculated as they did their best to create the image of guilt. Even though there were easily five or more people in every room, the whole place felt eerily empty. In a way, he almost feels as if you two were the only people in the world - you, the sleeping beauty waiting for him to arrive.
There’s a spring in his step as he pushes the door to your room open, his eyes immediately find you buried within his coat. He’s not surprised you had managed to sleep through it all, you’d always been a heavy sleeper even during your youth. 
He ushers a soldier in with a bunch of empty boxes, signaling for her to start packing your things up.
“Wake her up and you’re dead.” He adds while he makes his way towards you, a cheeky smile on his face as he makes himself comfortable next to you.
The soldier nods, making sure to be as quiet as humanly possible as to not anger the man in front of her - at this point, everyone in the house knew that he was not exaggerating when he said such things. When it came to you, the eleventh Fatui Harbinger knew no bounds. She turns around, making sure not to look too much at either of you in fear of upsetting him.
He patiently waits for the woman to finish packing all she could fit in the boxes. By now, he’s cuddling you in his arms, never allowing you the chance to so much as squirm away from him. It’s a suffocating, possessive hold he has on you, like he was scared if he let you go even for a second you’d leave him.
“Good, thank you.” He doesn’t even look at her - too focused gazing lovingly at your sleeping form. She says nothing but bows before leaving, desperate to leave the room as soon as possible.
The minute she closes the door he pulls himself away from you, making sure to not wake you up with any sudden movements - a concern he seemingly hadn’t had before when he’d been tormenting your parents.
He’d done his best to conceal himself but the truth was that the minute he saw you again, he felt himself growing hard again. Your naked body was hidden enough he didn’t feel the need to kick the soldier from before out, but he knew - he knew that beneath it you were still dirty with him, you were bruised from his handling of you, your neck filled with his kisses and bites. Just knowing that was enough for him to get dizzy, as if all the blood that was meant to flow to his brain had been redirected to his dick. His white pants were tented up, it almost hurts from how erect it was - just the memory of you taking him inside had a wet patch forming in his underwear.
“Look at what you do, baby,” he moans, his voice breathy as he pulls his zipper down, slowly freeing his hard-on, “ah… hah, I want to be inside you again.”
Just the cold air hitting his bare cock is enough to send a jolt of electricity down his spine, he just wants to feel you again, it’s all he wants - to be inside you again and to fuck you until all you can think of his your future husband’s cock. He takes your hand, so much smoother than his battle-worn one, and cautiously shoves two of your fingers into his mouth as a make-shift gag. 
He keeps one hand there while the other one slowly caresses his slit, his touch almost a ghost on his skin as he makes sure to tease it until a glob of pre starts to form from how sensitive he already was. He takes a small amount of pre-cum and uses it as lube, making sure to spread it slowly across his tip and down his shaft with long strokes.
He’s trying his best not to bite down on your fingers but it was so hard not to, instead he occupies himself by sucking on them in sync with his hand. 
“Mhm!” He accidentally touches his vein, the thick bump was extra sensitive against the cold air and your scent, his whole body twitches.
He can’t stop his hand from gaining speed and force, the longer he’s here with you the more his hand moves. It just not enough, his hips thrust upwards as he gives into himself, fucking into his balled up hand. His tongue laps at your fingers, his lips wrap tightly around them as he tries not to bite into your flesh; he can’t stop his hand from tightening against his cock.
He continues like this for a while, humping into the air like a bitch in heat, making sure to not cum - he didn’t want this to end too soon, he wanted to continue feeling like this next to you. In your room, a place that smelt so much like you it was overstimulating him, the taste of your lips against his tongue was intoxicating - he didn’t want today to end.
“Hah, mhm…” He chokes against his moan; it’s starting to get too much for him.
It’s then that he makes the mistake of looking over to you. Just the sight is enough for him to cum, it takes just a few strokes for him to finally spill.
“F-Fuck!” He can’t stop the moan that leaves his lips, he takes your fingers out of mouth in fear of hurting you but he refuses to let it go, gripping tightly while he lets himself ride the wave of pleasure he feels.
It takes him a second or two until he finally calms down, his dick growing sensitive as he slows down his strokes until he finally stops. His chest feels heavy as he pants, his heart beating painfully loud - he wonders if maybe you could hear it even in your sleep, a part of him hopes so. His whole body is on fire but he thinks this is the best he’s ever felt, just being near you was enough to make him feel like a God.
“I… I love you,” he pants, his fingers almost leave a dent in your hands from how tightly he’s gripping it, “hah… I love you so, so much…”
Almost a little too much.
755 notes · View notes
breelandwalker · 3 months
Text
Wolf Moon - January 24-25, 2024
Tumblr media
Shake off the cold and sing to the sky, witches - it's time for the Wolf Moon!
Wolf Moon
The Wolf Moon is the name given to the full moon which occurs in the month of January. The name is said to be derived from the sound of wolves howling with hunger while prey is scarce in the midst of winter. Given that we now know that wolves howl mostly for communication, my personal opinion is that people huddled in their homes during a very dark and dangerous time of year probably noticed these sounds a lot more readily with little else to occupy their time as they waited out the winter, and thus were set to worrying about ravenous beasts invading their villages and farmsteads. (It's worth noting that wolves preying on livestock was a very real concern for most people outside major cities for many centuries, so this isn't entirely unfounded.)
The name also calls to mind the howling of the wind during winter storms, or whistling around the eaves during the long cold nights. And for those of us who might not have been careful with our spending over the holidays, I might cite a tongue-in-cheek reference to the wolves being at the door when those credit card bills come due.
[For those not familiar with the phrase, to have "a wolf at the door" is a saying that refers to some imminent hardship or disaster. In modern parlance, this is usually applied to poor finances or looming bankruptcy.]
This month, the moon peaks at 12:54pm EST on January 25th, so the moon will likely appear to be full on the nights of the 24th and 25th, depending on where you are in the world.
Some North American indigenous names for the month of January and its' moon are Cold Moon (Cree), Center Moon (Assiniboine), Severe Moon (Dakota), Ice Moon (Catawba), and Spirit Moon (Ojibwe). Other names include Mantis Moon (South African origins), Quiet Moon (Celtic), and Moon After Yule (Anglo-Saxon).
What Does It Mean For Witches?
As a new year dawns, it's time for rest and reflection before we set out on the next phase of our journey. While the cold weather lingers, take some time to sit by the fire, literally or metaphorically, and take stock of where you stand, what resources are available, and what you plan to do with them.
Check in with your near-and-dear following the mad rush of the holiday season as well. Make sure that friends, family, and community members around you are doing all right. Offer support and kindness where you can, but don't overextend yourself. It's your time to recuperate too, and it is good and healthy to set boundaries which allow time and space for yourself.
What Witchy Things Can We Do?
Winter is a prime time for storytelling. Back in the days before internet or television or radio, people would often read to each other or tell tales to pass the time. Consider re-reading a favorite book that inspires you or exploring some region of folklore or mythology you've been meaning to look into. If you have children who are of an age to enjoy stories, read them some of your favorites or introduce them to something new. Share stories and discussions with your witchy circle too!
While you're at it, take a moment to examine the role that folklore and stories play in your practice. If you subscribe to a particular mythos, be it through deities or just general belief, consider which parts of it resonate the most with you and why.
Consider also the lessons of the winter season - the necessity of rest between periods of growth and activity, and the role of death, cold, and darkness in the natural cycles of life. What do these things mean to you and your practice? Are they a source of fear or fascination? Do you come alive in the winter or bundle up and wait for spring? How can you best remind yourself to pause for breath as the year goes on?
And of course, the beginning of a new year is an excellent time for goal-setting and divination. You're making resolutions for your mundane life, so make a few for your craft while you're at it, and pull out your cards or runes or pendulum for a New Year forecast on how things might go.
Happy Wolf Moon, witches! 🐺🌕
SOURCES & FURTHER READING:
Bree's Lunar Calendar Series
Bree's Secular Celebrations Series
Wolf Moon: Full Moon in January, The Old Farmer's Almanac.
Full Moon January 2024: Discover the Wolf's Thrilling Spiritual Meaning, The Peculiar Brunette.
Moon Info - Full Moon Dates for 2024
Calendar-12 - 2024 Moon Phases
Image Source: What Is A Wolf Moon?, The Fact Site.
232 notes · View notes
strawbeerossi · 9 months
Text
Warmth
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairing: Gn!Reader x Aaron Hotchner
Description: When you end up leaving your winter clothes at home before leaving for a case in Alaska, you’re convinced you’re gonna freeze to death. Thank god for Aaron.
Content Warnings/Other: Course language, case matter (nothing specific), tooth rotting fluff, mutual pining, little bit of awkwardness, a nice cuddle session in the end for the ole razzle dazzle
Word Count: 1.7K
Navigation || Masterlist || Request
Fulfilling a request for my beloved @cr1minalskies, I hope you enjoy sweetie. 💐 I did change a few things up, however I still think I captured what you were looking for!
A/N: Also it’s my first gender neutral fic! I’m gonna try and do more Gn!reader and male!reader fics as well to branch out from my typical fem!reader
PS: This wasn't proofread, I just let my heart guide my fingers in writing this. Sorry if it's rough
Tumblr media
How did you manage to forget a jacket? You knew that you were going to Alaska for a case and you knew damn well that the weather conditions would call for temperatures cold enough to turn you into an ice pop. It should’ve been something that was triple checked for; a jacket, a beanie, a sweater, a scarf, mittens, anything to combat the freezing temps.
Instead, here you were, arms pulled into your shirt as your bare arms were hugging your torso, trying to use your own body heat to bring warmth to your limbs.
Aaron had quizzed you on what you packed in your go-bag the previous night when you were being called in to go over the case at hand. You were confident to say that you were all set and packed enough warm garments to keep you toasty for a month straight.
What a big liar you were. It wasn’t that you purposefully chose to be freezing to the point where you felt your fingers were going to fall off, you just managed to grab the wrong bag out of your closet.
You strived yourself on having one bag for warmer weather and one for colder weather that you claimed to have labeled and ready for any last minute cases. 
Weren’t you surprised when you pulled out a pair of shorts this morning, which ultimately led to you throwing every article of clothing out of their rightful spots in search of your sweater. 
The end was near, that was all you knew. This weather wasn’t easy, especially due to it being mid-December. There was fresh snow blanketing the grass, the impending snowfall giving a harsher chill to the air.
You always thought that you’d be taken out by an unsub in the line of duty, an honorable death that had meaning.. What cruel fate to know that it was going to end with you being a popsicle instead.
With a blanket wrapped around your shoulders, you were currently standing in the middle of the police precinct. You fiercely denied any kind of jacket from your work colleagues, even if Derek was trying to force his coat on you to cease the incessant chattering of your teeth.
Last thing you needed was for them to be frozen just because they were hellbent on helping you. That would just leave plenty of guilt on your end.
Aaron had taken notice of you earlier in the day though, his eyes fixated on your chattering teeth, blue lips, and rosy cheeks. You were freezing, so bad that you were shaking in your boots and yet you kept refusing jackets, even Spencer’s purple scarf that he’d never share under any other circumstances.
He’d finally had enough though when your nose was almost as red as Rudolph’s. 
“As useful as you’d be navigating us through a winter storm,” Aaron began, a play on the old reindeer tale as he was taking off his puffer jacket and placing it on your shoulders. Unlike the others though, he held the coat in place while you tried fighting him on it.
“Please take it. I don’t need an agent in the hospital with pneumonia.” He stated in a simple tone. He may have had a hard exterior with a tough demeanor, however he wasn’t heartless and about to let anyone freeze.
However with the harsh cold outside, it was his turn to shiver. He knew he couldn’t go for a few days without a jacket, especially knowing this case could last days, maybe even a week because of how deep this damn lead was buried. 
So, he’d managed to slip away in the middle of the day, en route to one of the shops in town where he could get a jacket. However, this jacket was for himself. As much as he loved his thick jacket, he would have to admit that you looked much better in it. 
When he caught up to the team again, he acted as if nothing changed, even if you were paying attention to his new jacket, your heart dropping. You knew he’d end up freezing and here you were, selfishly wearing his jacket while he went out to buy a new one. 
You felt like an ass, your brain not being fair by not reminding you that Aaron forced the coat onto your shoulders and how he practically begged you to wear it in order to avoid you getting sick.
Later in the night, you were gonna make it a point to go talk to Aaron, to return the jacket and tell him that you’d reimburse him the money for the jacket he’d gotten. 
“Going to your boyfriend’s room, Y/N?” The words made you scoff, turning your head while making an obscene hand gesture at Derek. “Fuck off, man. I’m just going to return his jacket.” You huffed, unable to help the heat rising in your cheeks. 
He was your boss and one of your close friends, although you knew that some part of you yearned to see Aaron in a less professional setting and a more intimate one. There was a delusional part of you that assumed that he’d reciprocate those feelings, that he’d want to be with you and give his all to you. 
Vulnerability wasn’t easy for Aaron nor was it easy for you. The walls you both had up seemed impenetrable, even the toughest equipment not being able to knock them down.
That was what killed the hope of anything serious happening between you both. He was your boss anyway, you figured it’d be an HR nightmare in regards to filling out paperwork, fighting transfers, the lot of it.
After a brief knock against the hotel door, you let your hands hold the jacket close to your chest. Even in the hotel, it was freezing. You had on some sweat pants and a long sleeve shirt and yet you were still shaking, the socks on your feet not doing anything to shield your feet from the freezing tile floor. 
Why did it have to be Alaska? It could’ve been in Florida, or maybe even Texas. At least in those states, you wouldn’t be freezing to death. You’d opt for extreme heat to combat the chill.
You were being taken out of your thoughts as soon as you heard two locks clicking and the door opening. What was behind the door though had your eyes nearly bulging out of your sockets. This man was shirtless with pajama pants that hung low on his hips. 
“How haven’t you frozen to death yet?” You asked, dumbfounded. You were covered head to toe and you were freezing but this man didn’t have a shirt nor socks and he seemed comfortable.
“You’re being dramatic, Y/N. It isn’t bad inside the hotel at all.” He commented, the normal stoic expression being broken by a lopsided smile. “You wouldn’t find me like this outside though.” He chuckled, now stepping out of your way as an invitation to come into his room.
“What are you doing up? Not that I don’t mind talking to you, you just seemed exhausted.” 
“Well, I uh.. I wanted to return your jacket. I noticed you went out and bought a new one, it bothered me to know that I made you freeze while I was comfortable.”
The words had his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “I offered you my jacket because it bothered me that you looked like you were locked in a meat locker. I’d say we are even, hmm?”
“Aaron,” You let out an exasperated sigh. “I just want to return it.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“What?’
“You look better in it than me. I couldn’t wear it around the team again without them telling me that I don’t look near as good as you.” 
The words made your heart beat rapidly in your chest. He thought you looked good in his jacket?
“Y/N, I’m serious. Keep it. It fits you nicely and I know for a fact that you’ll be warm. I won’t have to worry about you not having anything warm either.” Aaron had offered a smile before watching as you hugged the jacket without realizing, looking like you were going to faint. 
“I don’t mean to be forward,” Those words made you feel like you were going to puke. “But I was just about to relax for the night. Wanna watch a movie with me?”
This was a dream. You’re dreaming. Aaron Hotchner asked you to spend time with him. One on one.
“Sure!” You said quickly while clearing your throat soon after. Smooth like crunchy peanut butter. “I mean, yeah. I would love to. I am freezing in my room anyway and yours seems warmer..” 
The black jacket was being placed on the nightstand in the room while you approached the bed to sit down, Aaron nodding as he was seated beside you. “I’m sure it’s because my room is warmer.” There was a hint of teasing in his tone while he leaned against the headboard, holding up the blanket for you. 
The minute that you were crawling beside him, you could already feel a warmth radiating from his bare skin. 
Suddenly, you weren’t shaking from the air anymore. Your cheeks were pink, your hands on your lap as you stayed put beside Aaron. This seemed asinine. You never pictured him being the type to ask for company on a whim. If you were honest, you always assumed he’d be asking people to leave him alone instead.
It seemed silly because you’d known him for years now, however it felt like meeting him all over again. You awkwardly sat, gaze on the small television that was on some random channel just to fill in the silence. 
“Y/N? You alright?” There was that concerned tone again. “I’m okay! Just.. Cold.” You laughed, rubbing the back of your neck, gaze falling on your close friend on the team as he was offering a small smile, his arm wrapping loosely around your shoulders. “Well, you can get a little closer, if you want. I really don’t mind. I’ve been told that I’m like a human furnace.”
Well, he was hot, kept you very warm, and he was able to make you comfortable. Maybe that really was the case. “You’re sure it’s not weird?” Although your body was already leaning against his, your head was unable to help itself as it rested against his shoulder.
“Not weird at all.”  
Tumblr media
546 notes · View notes
p4p1l0nn · 5 months
Text
crimson tears.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: ex!jaemin x reader
genre: drama, angst, romance (second chance romance, betrayal, humiliation)
in the quiet corners of your world, where the weight of missed opportunities lingers, every day unfolds as a haunting reminder of what once was. in the echo of each passing minute and the silence of every hour, the ache of longing for jaemin becomes your constant companion.
memories of shared laughter and stolen glances linger, casting shadows on the canvas of your thoughts. you navigate a world colored by the absence of his touch, a world where the void left by his departure becomes an indelible mark on your soul.
the air is thick with the bittersweet scent of memories as you yearn for a second chance, a chance to rewrite the script of your love story with him, desperate to escape the confines of a past that holds you captive in the echoes of what could have been.
in your lonely nights, your bed felt empty, missing the warmth he once brought. his laughter echoed in your room, making the silence in your chest even louder. sleep, once a comfort, turned into a battle where dreams showed what you lost. tears stained your pillow, telling the tale of an ache that wouldn't go away. each new day without him was like a punch, and the pillow became your confidante.
with the seasons changing, your feelings changed too. spring's colorful flowers only highlighted the dullness of your life without him. summer's warmth couldn't melt the icy pain around you. autumn came, showing that even vibrant leaves fall, just like you fell deeper into a love that slipped away. winter brought a cold reminder of the frostiness between you and the world. festive lights outside mocked the hope in your heart, dancing to a sad tune.
your mind replayed the painful conversation with jaemin, each word a searing brand on your heart. as you summoned the memory, the wound reopened, and the ache intensified.
jaemin's once-familiar voice turned venomous, the words cutting through the air like shards of glass. “a second chance?” he scoffed, the bitterness dripping from every syllable. “you really have the audacity to ask for that after what you did?”
his friends, haechan and jeno, tried to restrain him, but the words poured forth like a relentless storm. “you think i'd give you another chance? you're delusional, living in some fantasy where your mistakes don't matter. well, guess what? they do.”
you felt the weight of his anger, and it hit you like a brick. “do you even realize how humiliated i am to be standing here, begging for something you don't think i deserve? i never expected you to forgive easily, but this . . .”
his eyes, once warm, now held a coldness that sent shivers down your spine.
“i thought we meant more to each other. i thought our history counted for something,” you pleaded, desperation clinging to your voice. but jaemin's retort was like a slap in the face, stinging with a cruelty you never anticipated. “history? all it does is remind me of how foolish i was to trust you in the first place.”
haechan and jeno intervened, trying to quell the verbal assault, but the damage was done. the words reverberated in your mind, a painful mantra of rejection. “don't bother. you're not worth the second chance you're asking for.”
his eyes bore into yours with a mixture of resentment and disappointment. the weight of his hatred lingered, and you were left standing there, the remnants of shattered hope scattered at your feet. the humiliation cut deep, a wound that no amount of pleading could heal.
the sting of betrayal cut deeper as the realization unfolded — jaemin had orchestrated the meeting with malicious intent. he lured you with sweet words, concealing the venom that awaited. the pain of humiliation gnawed at your core, leaving you raw and exposed.
as the truth settled in, jaemin's deceit played like a cruel melody in your mind. “i just wanted to talk,” he had said, his tone dripping with false sincerity. “i thought we could find some closure.”
yet, his intentions were far from closure. in that orchestrated encounter, his words became daggers, each one aimed to wound. “closure?” he sneered, the facade crumbling to reveal the deception. “i wanted to see the desperation in your eyes, watch you beg for something you can never have.”
the revelation hit you like a tidal wave, the emotional wreckage leaving you breathless. “you tricked me,” you whispered, the words carrying the weight of betrayal.
jaemin's triumphant grin confirmed your realization. “you played the part perfectly. falling for it was your mistake, not mine.”
the scene unfolded like a cruel play, and the script had been written with your pain in mind. as jaemin and his friends walked away, laughter echoing behind them, the sense of betrayal settled in your chest like a lead weight.
the wound inflicted wasn't just from lost love; it was a mark of a trust shattered, a heartbroken by a deliberate act of cruelty.
233 notes · View notes