#I hope they appear for one chapter in the new book

[siconetribal]

Put it on My Tab 11

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!reader

Tag: @vbecker10 @wordsfromshona @harlequin-hangout @harpy-space @tild3ath @gone-batty-fics @princessbl0ss0m @dakotali

Warning: Frustration, Celebration, and Coffee Inhalation

Summary:

Everyone deserves time off, and the vigilantes of Gotham are no exception to the rule. The boys decide to take a weekend to let loose. Who knew a few drinks would lead to a stranger in bed?

Author Note:

A huge thank you and shout out to @harlequin-hangout for the amazing banners you made for me.

Please comment, like, share, and reblog! If you'd like to be added to the tag list, let me know!

If you’re new to the story, please check out the master post for the rest of the chapters or find chapter one here.

The apartment was silent, broken only by the occasional shouting, shooting, and sirens. For anyone living in Gotham City, especially the rougher parts, this was all white noise. A day of actual  silence was a blessing that no one dared to question. Today was not one of those nights. In fact, it was noisier than most, which usually meant trouble was closer than usual. None of that mattered to Y/N as she sat cross armed and cross-legged on the worn out sofa, staring down at her phone that lay on the coffee table before her.

Seconds had turned to minutes which quickly became an hour which was now nearing two as she sat there stone still. Since coming home from her shift, she had perched herself on the couch as if to judge the cellular device that was placed on the stand. There was now a new number on her phone. Nine new digits under the contact name: Your Hero and a message thread that held one text saying ‘hi’ from her phone to this person. 

The same person with the mesmerising blue eyes that looked like they held the secrets of life itself, tinged with sadness and pain. Tall, muscular but not overly bulky but certainly much bigger than her, with black hair that had a high contrast streak of white in the front. The same interrogative gentleman who saved her from the drink and Matias. The very person who had her drowning in 4k worth of debt to the hotel for room damage. Thrice he appeared out of nowhere and twice were to save her from serious trouble. The one and only silver tongued Wonder Boy who was into books and video games.

“Who just shows up to save someone on time like that? Is he really some sort of self-proclaimed hero?” She muttered to herself, unfolding her arms to rest her chin in one of her palms.  “What do I do now? Do I text him? Should I ask about the room? How do I even bring that up without him claiming I’m some liar trying to squeeze money out of him? It’s not like I knew he was a Wayne! I didn’t sit there and memorise all their faces, and just hoped to the high heavens one had a decent enough personality to save me. I didn’t even want to go to the reunion! Do I just wait for him to text me? He did say he was going to text me, but do I just believe that? When is that going to happen? What did I even say yes to?!” She threw her arms up in frustration and ruffled her hair. “What the hell am I supposed to do?!” She let out a heavy sigh of frustration, staring up at the dated popcorn ceiling as she slumped back into her seat, laying her head on the top of the cushion. Today is going to be a long day. She blinked a few times, fatigue getting the best of her. Forcing herself to stand up, she grabbed her phone and made her way to her bedroom. Sleep was the only answer after such a hectic night shift.

“Tonight, we celebrate, Magnus ol’ buddy!” Jason grinned, snapping the elastic band of the party hat under the stone chin. “Yours truly has managed to not only find her,” he walked away and paused for suspense, turning with ease to face his rock friend once more. “But also get her number and her name! Sure, I got it off her name tag, but I plan on getting it from her directly!” He grinned from ear to ear as he walked back, waving the lit up phone screen in its face as he leaned against Magnus. “Sorry I haven’t been around to update ya on things, I had to help with shit on the other side of the city for the last couple of weeks. At least it wasn’t boring. But that’s beside the point, I finally got something on her before she got on me! Man, you should’ve seen the look on her face! I left her speechless!” He puffed his chest with pride as he plopped down onto his usual seat by Magnus, opening up the rolled up paper bag.

He pulled out a large order of fries, setting it sideways in Magnus’ mouth for easy access before grabbing the burger beneath it, his drink set between them and his helmet just within reach. Batburgers were the perfect on-the-go late night celebratory food. He was not scheduled to be on patrol today, but no one told him what to do. He just merely agreed with decisions for the most part, today was just one of difference of opinion. Let the Batman rant and rave, Jason would not let anyone take away his victory.

“So, what was the last thing we talked about? Ah, right! Some mobsters were causing shit thinking I wasn't around to crack skulls. Fucking dumbasses,” he rolled his eyes and took a hearty bite of his burger. “The look of shock on their faces, you’d think they saw a ghost! I know I’ve died a few times, depending on what stories you follow, but I’m still flesh and blood. Of course, they tried to fix that, thinking they had a chance. They never learn, and that's why they always fucking lose. When I ran shit, I was smart about it. Throwing muscle mindlessly is a waste. You can't educate the brainless though. I had to make sure to do a proper job, and couldn't leave just anyone to send the message. Things should be quiet over there for a bit which gives me the chance to actually reach out to Y/N.”

“Y/N, huh? That’s a pretty name.” A familiar voice held an annoying lilt to it. Jason’s eyebrow twitched as he took a sip of his soda.

“Whaddya want, Dickwing?” He grumbled.

“What, can’t an older brother come check in on his AWOL younger brother?” Nightwing placed a hand over his heart and hung his head. “You wound me, little brother.” He frowned, noticing the party hat on the gargoyle. “And to have a party without inviting me? I am doubly hurt! Maggie has a hat and fries!”

“Magnus is important. He doesn’t say stupid shit like you are now.” Jason scoffed, taking one of the crispy golden potato sticks.

“Margrave can’t say anything. I still think you should see someone about this unhealthy relationship you have with this heap of concrete.” Nightwing knocked two knuckles against it before taking a seat beside Jason. “So, who is Y/N, and why are you texting her? Where did you meet? Should I be worried, and for whom between the two of you?”

“Shut up,” the younger former Robin grumbled. “You better not fucking do anything or I’ll kill you.” He warned Nightwing quickly raising his hands up in surrender. “She's the girl I was trying to find about the whole hotel fiasco.”

“The one where you broke the simple coffee machine and ruined the room, leaving her with a huge bill to clear?” He smirked as Jason scowled.

“Yes, that one. Keep it up, see what happens.” He grumbled.

“Alright, alright! So, you finally found her, hm? That's good, you can give her the money and move on finally. You won't have some rando holding that over you anymore. Did you get the money sent to her already?”

Jason knew that was what he needed to do and that was the whole purpose of trying to find her. Give her the money and move on. There was no use or reason to delay. The sooner he paid, the sooner she was free to move on as well. Being involved any more than necessary was a danger to her and a burden on him. And yet, the thought alone left a bitter taste in the back of his mouth. 

Y/N was witty and funny, easy to approach and talk to even if it was just nonsense. He wanted to keep talking to her, and not just through a computer screen. He wanted to know more about her day, the crazy customers, and the shenanigans of her and Citlalli. He wanted to sit and drink coffee or tea or whatever she drank and discuss books, plan little gaming raids, or just talk about life. He knew nothing about her. 

I could just look it up now that I know her name and place of employment. I could find out everything about her and clear up the mystery that is her, feed the curiosity and be done with it…but I don't want to. Not only that, but I want to hear it from her, organically. Even if I did read all there is, I'd want to hear it from her. 

“Earth to Jason, are you there?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. I’m just thinking.”

“You, thinking? Oh man, that isn’t good. Should I be expecting a second duffle bag incident?”

“Duffle bag what? No, that was one time, you guys need to learn to let it go!” He rolled his eyes.

“It’s pretty hard to just let go of the fact that your younger brother was carrying eight heads stuffed in a gym bag.” Nightwing scoffed. “Excuse me for being a little concerned.”

“It was one time!” He let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m not some psycho serial killer or something. If you’re here to rain on my parade, you can fuck off! This is why I didn't invite you, Magnus knows how to read a balcony. It’s clearly a party.” He motioned to the shiny pointy hat on said gargoyle’s head. “Also, aren’t you on patrol? Quit slacking off and go.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll leave! I can tell when I’m not wanted!” Nightwing let out a heavy sigh as he stood up. “Unloved and thrown away like last week’s newspaper.” He sniffled loudly. “I see how it is!” He threw his head back with the back of his hand to his forehead.

“If you get it, then leave.” Jason grumbled, opening up the wrapper of his second burger. “Thanks, for the assist.” He mumbled before taking a bite. Nightwing had just barely heard the words, but smiled nonetheless.

“Anytime, Little Red,” he chuckled before vanishing into the night. 

Over the course of the next two weeks, Y/N picked up every and all shifts that she could possibly find to help clear the money owed. Citlalli was great in helping her find work, while away and on her return. The return of the boisterous and flamboyant Citlalli was like sunshine after weeks of doom and gloom rain, refreshing and much needed. Y/N had been keeping herself too busy to even think, and Citlalli’s return was a great distraction, but also a great sounding board on what to do. She had told her dear friend all about her encounter with her troublesome cousin and the return of her expensive hero. Citlalli was not thrilled to hear about her cousin’s antics, and had quickly informed their boss of what transpired. She also insisted that Y/N should wait for him to text, since that is what he said he would do. The task was simple enough, validating the decision she had been leaning towards as is. 

However, that was then. Two weeks and some days had gone by, and nothing. Utter radio silence from him. No sudden appearances, even though Matias did come by some times to try to get her attention. And her online gaming partner was also MIA. Arkham_Knight said it would be about a week, but there was no movement or notice from him either. It was driving her crazy to just sit and wait for both of them.

The next time I see him, I’m going smack him! How do you tell someone you’re going to message them and just don’t?! Especially after you made sure to get my number to send details, what details?! She wanted to scream, but she was on the clock. It was another graveyard shift and the café was dead. Everything had been cleaned spotless and anything that needed to be restocked was done. She even went through the inventory to make a list of what needed to be reordered soon. With nothing left, she took a seat on the stool and pulled out her book since there was nothing else to do.

As soon as she cracked it open, there was the sound of glass shattering. She reflexively ducked for cover as the window shards went flying everywhere. She could hear the sounds of a struggle at the crunch and scratch of the pieces, a muffled frantic voice followed by a calmer, more exasperated one.

“I told you we could do this the easy way or the hard way, you chose the hard way.” The young male voice flippantly spoke. “Now, tell me what I need to know. I can keep this up all night if I have to, I’ve got nowhere else to be.” 

And I just cleaned the whole place! Y/N scowled at her turn of luck, carefully closing her book and placing it aside. What am I supposed to do in this situation?! I can’t exactly greet them and ask what they would like to order, who knows what they’ll do to me. Wasn’t his place supposed to be ‘crime free’? So much for that promise, thanks for nothing Gotham politicians! She grumbled to herself, slowly lifting her head to just above the counter to see who was responsible for destroying the cafe. She was surprised to see it was one of the famous caped crusaders of Gotham City. Red Robin, here? With who? She tried to get a look of the captured person but her attention was caught by the sound of crunching glass and she ducked quickly for brief moment.

“Did we get it?”

Nightwing? Well damn, I know I said I wanted something to happen, but this was not what I had in mind. She slowly stood up from her hiding spot after shifting over to right so that the machines would help hide her for a little longer.

“Not yet, but looks like he’s just about ready.” Red Robin answered, looking over his shoulder at Nightwing, catching sight of Y/N’s hat in the process. “Looks like we have an audience.”

What do I do? What do I do? Y/N’s eyes darted from side to side trying to find a place to run, but she was boxed in and there was no way she would outrun one of them. With no options of escape, she slowly walked towards the register so she was more visible with both her hands up. “I’m unarmed, I’m just an employee here.” She forced herself to speak calmly and clearly.

“An employee here, where are we?” Nightwing quickly surveyed the location and realized they had come crashing through an actual business and not one of the under construction buildings. “So he ran here hoping to be seen by someone.” He muttered.

“See what? I don’t see anything, except for two potential customers debating if they want to order.”

“Smart girl,” Red Robin answered, turning to face her after tying up the guy on the floor. The two vigilantes walked up to the counter and looked up past Y/N to see what was available. While Red Robin realized where they were, Nightwing realized something else. She noticed and looked down to see it was at her name tag.

“Y/N, that’s a pretty name.” He grinned. “I think we will order something, Y/N. What do you say?”

“Red Eye with two shots of espresso and some steamed milk, large.” The order came out quick, a slight eagerness in the tone. Y/N could not help but stare at the younger of the two masked males.

“I’m guessing you like coffee, and strong at that.”

“It helps when working the night.” He stood a little straighter.

“Riiiight, I’m not judging. I work in a café.” She shrugged, dropping her arms since she needed to make the order. “And you, Mr. Nightwing?”

“Mead Raf for me, medium is fine.”

“To go, or did you plan on staying to chat? We’re a 24-hour café, though I suppose I need to have you leave, since I need to clean up all the glass.” She motioned to the floor.

“Ah yes, sorry about that, Y/N. We’ll have it to go so you can get to cleaning.” Nightwing chuckled, amused by how she was handling the situation. The two watched her as she carefully made the drinks, making sure no glass managed to find its way behind the counter or into the coffee. 

“One large Red Eye with two shots of espresso and steamed milk and one medium Mead Raf. Is that all?” The vigilantes looked between one another and nodded their heads. “Alright, here you go. Consider it a small thanks for doing your best to keep us safe. You sure you don’t want anything to eat? Or are you not allowed to eat on the job?”

“There are no rules about that, we just gotta keep our hands free as much as possible. Thank you, Y/N.” He smiled at her name. He noticed the corners of her lips tug downwards. “Is something wrong?"

“Hm? No, nothing.” I’m overthinking it. He’s probably saying my name to make sure I know that he knows my name now and if I say anything, it’ll be easy to find me. “I’m a snacker, so I guess not having something on hand seems a bit cruel.”

“It’s annoying, but we need to be able to react quickly.” Red Robin agreed, taking his cup and taking a rather big drink from it. She tried to stop him, but could only watch. He was not the first to drink burning hot coffee in front of her, but it was always strange to see. Nightwing was not as crazy, he waited for a bit before sipping his drink.

“Perfect,” he smiled in approval. “Thanks again, Y/N, and here, something for your troubles.” He winked, slipping something into the tip jar before grabbing the tied up man. “Until next time,” he flashed her a grin as Red Robin held the door open and the two walked out as if they had not just come crashing through one of the windows.

She looked down at the tip jar to see what looked to be a $100 bill and something else. Do they get paid to do this job, or is this from a day job? Where the hell did he even keep this money? I don’t see any room for pockets in his suit, but then again, it’s all black. Red Robin did have a belt, maybe he holds the change? Her focus then shifted her attention to the glass littering the floor and sighed, there was no way she was going to be able to run the rest of the shift like this. Locking the doors, she grabbed the cleaning supplies and called her boss, letting him know of the situation at hand. “Well, at least it wasn’t dull.” She muttered as she got to cleaning until her boss got there to have the window temporarily patched up.

#red hood #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd fic #red hood x reader #y/n #red hood fanfic #red hood x you #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #red hood fic #red hood fanfiction #red hood x fem!reader #jason todd x female!reader #jason todd x you #your name #y/n reader #red hood x y/n #reader insert #jason todd x female reader #red hood x female reader #batman #batman fic #batman fanfic #batman fanfiction #nightwing #red robin #dc fanfic

[0xycod0ne]

toxic yuri couple in honour of nora sakavic rising from the grave

#I hope they appear for one chapter in the new book #cause irreparable shit to happen and then just hit the bricks #aftg andrew #aftg neil #neil josten #aftg #all for the game fanart #all for the game #andreil #andreil fanart #the foxhole court #nora sakavic

[oddinarylani]

'i wish you'd just care about me' arranged marriage skz.

pt 1: chan, lee know, changbin, and hyunjin.

w: blood, violence in changbin's

pt 2 is ⇀ here

𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷.↴

it wasn’t the best of circumstances. no. the day you were bathed in white, promised to a man, and walked down the aisle by your father to be given to the hands of your husband was one you spent in mourning, swallowed by grief. “i bet you’re so excited, yeah?” the makeup artist asked, brushing a pearly shade of pinkish red onto your lips. she had a soft genuine smile as she asked, surfacing you into reality from the fogginess in your head. you nod, once, “yes, i am.” you lie in an attempt to make conversation easy. most of the guests that day knew of the arrangement, but other’s hadn’t a clue - which made appearances dire to keep up with. part of you was pleased to move onto a new chapter in your life if it meant moving on from life with your parents. but the other part reminded you that you were going into a new marriage completely blind to the man you’d call your husband. you met him one singular time before changing your last name, the entirety of it was spent with your parents talking to his own - glances you cast in his direction, if only to study the face of the man you hoped to love one day. 

his jaw was set coldly, eyes focused on the conversation shared between your parents. he was handsome but just stone. was anything there? you would wonder. is there a man beneath that face? the bone beneath his skin rippled in tender structure, ears pierced, nose rounded, and a heart-like shape to his mouth. while there was no longer hope to hold out for, you scrounged up a bit more in the depths of your chest in desire to love him one day. truly love him. and to be loved in return. 

two months into your marriage and you still feel the brick wall dividing you from your husband. it wasn’t exhausting all the time, no. you saw him smile; a few times actually. sometimes you think of it when going to sleep. you hadn’t heard him truly laugh, but you still maintained that same hope from the first time you ever saw him that one day you’d be the reason for him to. your new routine as husband and wife took a minute to settle into; with chan slowly rising to ranks of his family’s company and your own growth in the business of your own. your days were spent at home in your office working from home, a lot of calls into business meetings that you kept your mic muted for, and phone calls to overseas clientele for holiday season. 

chan would wake in the morning and rise from your shared bed quick to get ready for work, leaving you to fix coffee and shrug on a robe in the cold of your home (winters weren’t kind in the mornings) when he’d leave, you’d have a cup ready for him, cream and a sugar cube. “thank you, have a good day.” he’d wish, already halfway out the door with a small tired smile on his face. “you’re welcome, you too,” you’d say, scrolling through your phone as the door would shut. 

he’d take little notice to your attempts at growing your relationship, and you hadn’t had the time to bring it up to him yet that you wanted to try to have a wonderful marriage. you’d step into the living room wearing a new dress for a banquet for the company, smile a bit wider and brighter than usual - he’d look up from the couch, phone still in hand and would give you a thin lipped smile. “you look nice.” you’d rent a movie, one he’d said he’d wanted to watch soon, and welcome him home with drinks by the couch and he’d brush it off, “ah, sorry. i have a company thing tonight. tomorrow maybe?” of course, he’d forget the next day anyway so it would all be for nothing. when he’d come home extra late and you’d be in bed, buddled in pjs in the comforter with a book and the lamp on next to you, you’d muster your best smile and set your book down. “hey, how was work?” he’d sigh, pulling the tie from his neck. “nothing new really.”

and then you’d beg yourself, beg yourself, to just answer the question of why were you in love with him? 

maybe it was for all the times you’d get to see him smile, the chuckles as you’d watch a movie, the thank you’s for cooking, and everything in between. maybe you loved him for the way he stumbled into the kitchen almost late for work, his hair a bit messy and his tie disoriented and you stopped him - “wait,” you put a hand up, walking up to him to fix his tie. it was the closest you’d ever been to him besides the day you’d gotten married, you could feel the warmth radiating from his skin. “sorry, my hands are cold.” your voice still laced with sleep as you straightened his tie and flattened his hair. “i-it’s okay.” he assured, clearing his throat. “eat some on your way to work, coffee’s on the counter. have a good day, okay?” you push a few pieces of toast wrapped in a napkin into his hands, pointing to his coffee before turning back to the stove. “r-right. thank you, have a good day.”

that was pretty cute. you even for a moment thought there’d be hope for you, as his cheeks flushed pink when you started working on his tie. sitting at your desk in your office you’d smile at the thought before catching yourself and smacking your own cheeks. 

but time was catching up with you, and the unbearable ache of loving him was almost too much for your heart to handle. you at least needed to know if he felt the same or if he ever could - but in the following days after your realization, you proved yourself right. there was no way. no way this could work out. a steady stream of emotion was constantly running through you; you couldn’t focus on work, you couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat - and you wondered if he even noticed. you were growing increasingly frustrated with chan, and every passing day of limited conversation, barely any eye contact, and virtually no response from chan was wearing you down. one second you were smitten, and the other you were pissed. 

and it eventually all came to a halt. 

the front door of your house shut loudly, louder than usual. and you had a sneaking suspicion chan hadn’t the best day at work. well. that was a shame - you were still pissed, and to think he had the audacity to come home angry from work when he could barely prove to be a communicative partner was enough to leave your blood boiling. you’d let him have it if given the chance. 

“how was work.” it wasn’t so much a question as much as a routine statement. you sat on the couch, shuffling through your movies to find the one he’d been wanting to watch, which upon realization, you didn’t know why you did that when you were pissed at him. 

“fine.” he stomps into your shared bedroom, yanking the tie from his throat as he did so. you roll your eyes and keep shuffling with a much heavier hand this time. when he re-emerges from the bedroom, he’s shed his tie but still has on his button-down and suit jacket on, you furrow your brows and sit up from the couch. 

“what’s wrong? what happened?” you ask out of the goodness of your heart. he tosses open the fridge, sighing. “nothing. nothing happened.”

“you wanna watch that movie you said you wanted to see?” he runs his hands over his face, closing the fridge door. he looks for a moment as if he’s thinking, his hands on his hips as he swallows. “no. not tonight.” he finishes, beginning to walk out of the kitchen before you stand.

“i really really wish you just cared for me.”

it was quiet, quiet, when you said it. the words left your lips before you could realize that your vision was getting a bit glossy. he freezes in his tracks, whipping his vision towards you at the sound of your voice. there wasn’t venom to your words like you expected there would be, no. just defeat. chan hears it, he hears it in you and all of his frustration, his anger, his annoyance, just melts away. instead, his chest is swallowed with guilt. 

“i try,, i try so hard to make this work, chris. i really do.” you wipe your face even though tears haven’t fallen yet, and he thinks it’s to stop them from ever doing so, at least in front of him, and his chest aches. he’s turned to face you now, just six feet away or so, and his brow softens at the sight of you. 

“i cook for you and make you coffee every morning and try renting your favorite movie because you said you wanted to watch it and wear pretty things out to work events and when i go out with friends but,, you don’t,,,” you look at him when you speak, he sees that water building in your eyes and takes a step closer to you, almost wanting to reach out but stopping himself before he’s to do so. your head shakes, you sniff one more time. 

“because that’s what married people do.” this time he does walk closer, you don’t move, but you don’t look him in the eye either - it seems much to hard to do when you’re on the brink of crying. 

“i promised myself,,” you lift a clenched fist to his chest, tapping him once with it, your lips screwing together in frustration though your voice is still soft and tearful. “that as your wife i’d love you one day.” your hand drops from his chest, you wipe your eyes when a single tear spills over your waterline, ducking your head to do so out of his line of sight. “is it too much to ask the same from my husband.”

it’s quiet for a minute, in one way he knows everything to say. every sweet word to soothe over your aching heart, because that’s what he’s suppose to do as your husband, and there’s another part of him that has no clue what to say. 

because what kind of husband is he to leave you feeling as empty as this.

“i told myself on our wedding day that,, i never wanted to be the one to make you cry.” his palms come to cup your cheeks, though his large hands end up swallowing some of your jawline and neck as well. your eyes widen a bit at the feeling, “look at me?” he asks, voice quiet. you do so with guidance from his own hands. “i’m sorry. i’m really sorry.” even he has some water building on his waterline, you notice. you frown, feeling his thumbs dry your under eyes. 

“i never wanted to make you feel uncared for or unheard. i appreciate everything you do for me. and i’m sorry i’ve made you question if i care for you.” he wipes his thumbs under your eyes once more before his hands lower a bit. “you’re my wife. i care about you so much. and i’ll show you that, i promise.” 

you talk for a little longer, but disregard the movie for the night, instead, you settle on curling up beside chris who wraps an arm around you, his cheeks a bit pink as you adjust yourself in his hold. he feels the burn of your own cheeks against his arm. “is this okay?” he asks, his opposite hand settling on your hip. you smile, “of course. i’m your wife, you can touch me. can i touch you?” he hums, scooting closer, giving you the okay to lay your arm across his midsection. you close your eyes for a moment, if only to enjoy the feeling of holding your husband for the first time. the warmth that always seems to naturally radiate off of him, the closeness of his breath, the feeling of being the only woman who gets to see him like this. 

“i didn’t know you were so cuddly, mr. bang.” you smile to yourself, his hand stroking soft over your hip. “only when given the chance, mrs. bang.” he replies. “ooh,, too smooth.” you admire. 

when silence encircles the both of you, and you feel sleepiness begin to creep up on you, he speaks again, “did you mean it when you said you’d learn to love me one day?” his voice is quiet, so tender - it licks at the wounds of your heart and seals them shut. your heart pounds behind your ribcage and you breathe deep to settle the rage of affection steadily brewing in you. “of course.” you reply, your face beginning to bury in his neck. 

“well, that’s a shame.” you furrow your brows, opening your eyes to look up at him. before you can reply he speaks again. “because i love you now.”

 𝓵𝓮𝓮 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀.↴

“the summer berries on the bushels in the forest are getting ripe now, i brought you some.” you lift your basket, both hands wrapped around it’s weak woven handle, showcasing your proud supply of freshly picked goods. you set the basket down a moment later, your husband batting a quick eye to the basket before he looks back to his spread of books a second later. “mm.” is his only reply. 

lee minho was the protector and guide of the largest castle in the northern part of your land. he was a renowned alchemist and practitioner of magic, known for being aid to a handful of people in the village you were raised in, and most notably - a fierce god of night. a vampire. 

it was true the stories of bloodlust and killings that tainted centuries of vampire lore; but lee minho set out to do something different. he hadn’t a care of the human experience, which he shared with that of his ancestors, but he had no need to kill them either. animal blood tasted just as delicious as a human’s. and when befriending a human, their loyalty was like no other. so he didn’t kill them, no, he made pacts and promises, and if anything used them more like pawns but they’d die soon before he did. 

and then there was you. his wife. promised to his hand by your family - a pact of sorts, one of which you both hadn’t necessarily agreed to if it wasn’t for both of your families stepping in to further push along the marriage. in a quiet candlelight scenery you were married to your now husband, and your seal of a kiss was shared. which, honestly, you didn’t regret. he was very handsome - and kissing handsome men was always a joyous occasion (well, mostly anyway) 

he was rageful. not at you, maybe more to existence itself. he was never angry towards you, he never showed it, but you could see deep within the brown wash of his eyes that he was indeed an angry man. he had a hate you’d only seen a few times, and every time you looked a little too hard you felt yourself look away - to anywhere else in the room. afraid of what it meant, afraid of his own distaste. 

“you’re wearing the dress.” he notes. his vision still wondering over the pages in his book. your slightly fallen expression gleams a little at his comment. “yes, of course. you bought it for me.” your hands smooth over your torso, he still doesn’t look up. your lips twist at the sight of your husband’s disinterest, but you turn to wash the berries and leave the room. 

most of your marriage to minho felt like a huge disinterest on his side. he’d lived many years, this much was true. but in your short time to live, you longed for a husband who loved you; and part of you thought minho was largely incapable of this. he never showed it. he never showed anything for that matter; he was always so far away. life not only was nonexistent to him as a man, but in his very eyes. he showed not a shred of emotion, and even in your good memories with him, he showed very little. part of you blamed it on his years of living, but yet the other part of you reminded you it was all the more reason to care. every day felt like a slow drag, you weren’t really living, not really. survival maybe. but being bound to this castle with a man who rarely payed you mind left an ache worse than death. were you not to his standards? maybe that was it. 

you’d shed too many tears over the situation, now every time you cry you try to pull yourself together in the face of your grief. upon talking to your family, a few members reminded you that your voice was powerful, and you should very much share your opinions to him on the matter if your marriage was to work - but that was the thing. a few months in with the man you were to learn to love, and you felt even now it was helpless. it was a sting that brought you to your knees, god how you wanted to just tell him. tell him you loved him - and hear it from his own mouth. 

upon your ravage of feelings and your family’s request, you resorted to writing a letter to your husband. you surely wouldn’t have the guts to face this powerful man in person, not like this. so you took to beginning your note in scribbles in the isolated space of your bedroom. 

your lips twitch in thought as you think over the contents of your letter, your hand stilling still quipped with a quill. you’re swallowed with silence in the stillness of your bedroom, word after word is brought to the front of your brain. there’s a number of things you could say, but not enough words in the world to describe how you felt. 

“lee minho, i’m unhappy.” you speak aloud as you write, taking a moment to look back at your writing, quickly scribbling the line out before starting again. 

“dear husband, i have a few things to bring to your attention.” you nod along as you write, happier with this line. 

“i believe if we’re to work as husband and wife, we should talk more.”

“i try time and time again to gain your attention, to bring you happiness in a way i know how.”

“but,, it seems to never be enough.”

“if you don’t want me,” you pause, your fingers fumble with the quill in your hand as your palms begin to warm against the hardwood. your lips twitch again.

against all things in your brain reminding you a married couple should speak of their issues and this was a must in your relationship if either of you wish to continue - an overwhelming feeling of pure grief washes over you and your hand as you still to keep from writing. 

every bright moment in your relationship flashes before your eyes like matches starting a fire. it’s so overwhelming that your voice dies, and a tight tug at the back of your throat halts you to a shred of reality you hadn’t dwelled on. you sit further back in your chair, eyes glossing over into thought - lost entirely to the contents of your brain. realization has hit you like a truck in the face of your confrontation. 

because what about all of the wonderful times you’ve spent together.

what about the dancing of your wedding day, the golden burn of his watchful gaze, the presents, the meals shared, the wishes of good morning or good night? what about all of the times that kept you so closely tethered to him? what about the times that kept you in love with the man who barely spoke to you. 

you take a breath - and as quiet as it would be, it’s blaringly loud in the silence of your bedroom. 

“i want to love you. i do. and,, i think i do.” clarity has left your quill, and instead, you write from your heart. what you truly feel. 

“i hate that you don’t notice when i try to do kind things for you.”

“i want to work in matrimony of us.”

“i know our marriage is against our wishes, but i want to make it work.”

“i just.. i just wish you cared about me.”

a hand sharply grabs your chin, pulling your gaze to meet that of your husband's golden gaze. 

“not care?” he asks, his face screwed into a sort of confused expression. “not care?” he asks again as his expression contorts again, further - until his hand is tender. 

you’re so sharply pulled from your own head that you’re left with whiplash. he’s heard you? where was he? did you leave the door open? your eyes are blown wide as you face him in the realization he’s heard everything.

your mouth dries as you look at him, his gaze cuts into your very being and you feel utterly frozen. “no-! i didn’t mean it-” “you do though. i’ve made you feel this way.” his gentle grip on your chin leaves you, and he shuffles away, sitting firmly on your bed. his gaze seems lost, as if he couldn’t keep up with the words you’d admitted. 

“minho..” “i do care.” he cuts in. you swallow, your brows melding together as you do so. “i don’t… want you to feel this way. and i’m sorry for doing so.”

in the face of confrontation he seems genuinely distressed, not that any part of you doubted it - but it was comforting to hear the words leaving his mouth. 

“if we’re to be married, i want you happy. comfortable. i don’t want you to feel bad because of me.” he explains. 

“i just,, i want to work this out. i want us to talk more; tell me what makes you happy and what hurts you.” you reassure, holding onto the back of your chair as minho’s head hangs low. “i’m your wife, i want to hear all of that.” a small smile stretches across your mouth; it’s lopsided and a bit sad, but it’s there nonetheless, and the sound of your voice lets minho’s head rise as he meets your gaze once more. 

he sees in you the beauty he sees across the room even as you just sit a few feet away from him. it’s overwhelming, suffocating; and part of him hates it a little bit for suffocating his heart in one swift swallow. you’re all encompassing and human - he’s learned self-control few could achieve, and yet even a few months into a marriage he didn’t agree to and he’s smitten. he wants to reach deep inside his chest and pull his heart out by it’s tethers, and apart of him wants to feel your love to the highest degree he could if just to be surrounded in heaven once more. 

“were you lying then?” he pauses, hands wrung together. “when you said you loved me?” a small quirk in the corner of his mouth leaves your face and chest hot. 

“i wasn’t lying.”

minho’s made home on your bed, lulled to his side as his pretty eyes wash over your face. you aren’t connected, in fact, you’re a little afraid to touch him - regardless of this fact, your wrist lifts to reach nimble fingers to his face, but you pause, your soft fingers retracting into your palm. 

“touch me.” he needs. his hand cupping your own to bring to his face tenderly.

your face is flushed with a dusty pink, the feeling of his face beneath your touch lights the nerve endings in your palm alight. your brow quirks in thought, but not for a moment do you part with his sun-washed eyes. 

“how did you become a vampire?” you ask quietly, your thumb strokes the soft skin beneath his eye, his hand stroking the back of your own. 

“i was born into it. my family comes from a long blood-line of vampires.” you hum in response, taking a moment to study the wash of sun-like gold that overtakes your husband’s eyes. fractals of evening sun beam through the curtains in your bedroom, creating a soft sleepy haze in your room. dust is seen floating in the room in the portions of sun that reach into the room. 

“you’re beautiful.” he beats you to it, realizing he too has been looking at you the entire time. you retract your hand nervously, a smile stretching across your face in sweet embarrassment. “thank you.”

“do you want to be one one day? or do you value your life?” he’s half joking, a floppy smirk on his lips as he sighs a laugh. you hum once more, looking to his mouth to see the slight glimpse of fangs visible to you. 

“maybe. if it meant i got to spend more time with you, than yes.”

minho’s smirk widens, his eyes washing from your face to the curve of your jaw, to the drop of your neck. his mouth parts, his hand coming to the curve of your ribcage over your waist, his warm hand freezes you in place. he lowers his lips to the column of your neck, a lowly drunken gaze filtering over his face. “that could be arranged.” his breath meets the tender flesh of your neck before he presses your waist closer to your body, his soft lips meeting your neck in a single kiss. 

𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓫𝓲𝓷.↴

“be careful on the job today.” you crane your neck out of the doorway of the kitchen to look at your husband as he tightens a holster around his thigh. he looks up for a moment, face momentarily stricken with something similar to surprise at your well wishes. he looks down a moment later, checks the clip of his pistol, and then shoves it into the holster. “i will. i’ll be back tonight.” the door closes sharply behind him and you’re left in the silence of your home yet again. 

there’s a pool of melted ice on top of your coffee, you take a sip anyway, the palm of your hand now wet from the sweat off the glass. in truth, you were trying. very sternly trying to make your marriage work. but with circumstances of said marriage coupled with the dangerous reality of your lifestyles, it felt like your assumed fate was dwindling before your eyes - a thin bow ready to snap under pressure. 

being born into crime wasn’t all good fellas or the godfather all the time - no. it was nasty business, some of which you came to regret but again this was the only life either of you knew, leaving the business would be impossible without a gun to your head. you persevered in the face of guilt anyway, not knowing fully how your husband felt about the situation. the sound of your phone ringing brings you out of your head for a moment, leaving you rolling your eyes at the sight of your mother’s name across the vibrating screen. 

“yes?’’ your coffee tastes bitter now, too much water - you pour the contents into the sink as she begins talking. 

“hey hun, there’s a job tomorrow that’s opened up. one of the boys got canned, we’ll pay his bail through an anonymous source but we have to wait a few days so the cops don’t catch on. you in?” your fingers tug a coffee filter out of it’s wooden box, stuffing it into the machine as you press a button on your grinder. 

“mom,” your hand comes to your eyes, rubbing them tiredly. “i told you i was out of the dirty work. i’m doing that shit anymore. and i’m severely out of practice of doing anything hefty.” you explain, the grinder stops, you pour the grounds into the coffee machine. she sighs on the other end, her voice coming through more heated now - pressure started weighing on your shoulders. she says your name with a deadly tone, it leaves you feeling as though there’s a cold metal rod stiff in your back. 

“why don’t you ever look out for this family? you think you can just leave and do the bare minimum when your father and i have slaved over making a good childhood for you?” and then you’d argue back and forth until you felt like ripping your hair out and you’d finally cave and you mom would end the call sharply and once again leave you in the silence of your home that was beginning to feel more like a prison. 

when you heard the beep that ended the call, you tossed your phone to the couch and let your mind wander yet again - what else was there to do in your seemingly failing marriage and rocky relationship with your parents? you hadn’t many friends unless they were in the business, and that only counted for a few really close ones. you track around your kitchen with your fingers pushed into your hairline, and your mind wanders back to something she’d said on the phone a few weeks ago. 

“we found you your husband, is that not good enough for you?”

you hadn’t even the energy to put up with audacity of that claim. so you ended the call and showered, but it still ate at you greatly - because no. no it wasn’t enough. changbin, as dedicated to the lifestyle as he was, and you respected him for his commitment, was terrible at showing you what he truly felt. most conversations were barely that, mostly exchanges if anything - and the few good times you’ve had together were truly the only thing keeping you around if it wasn’t for the godforsaken hope you managed to hold onto. 

you saw the good in him - the good he was capable of, and every time you’d suffocate yourself in thought about being three months in and still not working together as a married couple should, you reminded yourself of this fact. it’s what kept you in, what drew you closer to him. because what could you both be? it’s already bad enough you have feelings for the guy and he clearly didn’t feel the same way. 

“fuck,, what am i gonna do.” to clear your head you showered again, tying back your wet hair and slumming around the house until changbin arrived back home when you’d be drifting off to sleep. at least you had an opportunity to clean; and when the house was clean, you felt a bit better. you were correct about changbin returning late - you heard a long sigh as he entered your bedroom, the plop of a duffel bag could be heard. when you look at the time on your phone you see it’s just past three in the morning. 

“how’d it go?” you ask tiredly from the bed, the bathroom light flickers on and he raises his head a bit. “oh i’m sorry i didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“it’s okay. you okay?” 

“yeah. yeah, everything went fine. what’d you do today?” you see the rings of exhaustion circling his eyes as he strips off his shirt and hides the smallest of winces.

you sigh heavily, rubbing your eyes as the sink begins to run. “i talked to my mom on the phone. doing a job tomorrow night. cleaned the house though.”

“what kind of job?” he asks as he starts the shower. you talk a bit louder so he can hear you over the sound of the spray. oh he wasn’t going to like the sound of this - these kinds of jobs were everyone’s least favorite in the business. 

“there’s a warehouse on fifth, when you’re leaving the downtown area. apparently some guys are trafficking there. gotta take them out.” 

“shit.. be careful. small time guys have been trying to make names of themselves.” 

“i know, i will be.”

careful you were, but careful was not enough. those guys holed up in that warehouse with every corner covered, not only that, but with automatic weapons with full mags, dressed in black to blend with the shadows. the job was done, the victims released into promised care and with you aid in the following days, be returned to their families or brought to homes, but not without some wounds of your own. the guys dropped you off at the back of your house, granted it was past midnight but you couldn’t be too careful. your home was secluded - but what the law knew was unbeknownst to the organization in regards to this mission in particular. 

you left your weapons in the van with the promise of getting them back the next day. “c-clean the blood off it for me, would you?” you grinned, shuffling from the van with your arm slung over your partner. you lean nearly fully into his weight as he aids you in finding your back door. you bang on the big sliding window before unlocking it, letting changbin know you were home. 

“we gotta get the fuck outta here. you be careful yeah? call me tomorrow morning.” the driver calls before peeling away from your home. you nod, using the wall to stumble inside your house as the living room is suddenly flooded with light, and your husband walks out of your bedroom with his phone in hand and his brows furrowed. 

“changbin,,” you push the door closed, leaving bloody handprints everywhere you touched. 

“fuck- okay, okay, okay- it’s alright. come here.” his outstretched hands come to wrap your arm around his shoulders and stabilize on your waist as he helps you walk to your bathroom. 

hot spots of pain blossom on your waist, ribs, and leg. it’s throbbing, all encompassing, and leaves your eyes watering when changbin’s palm presses a little harshly into your side. throughout the house your gasps and groans of pain are heard, changbin is working as diligently and carefully as he can to help you to the bathroom, only imagining how much you must be hurting. 

“okay, okay- i’m gonna lay you on the floor okay?” he helps you rest along the floor after he’s put some towels down, and kneels by your side before grabbing the extensive first aid kit you kept in your bathroom. you nod, closing your eyes to focus on breathing, but every breath in hurts, and every exhale throbs your wounds. 

“where are you hit?” he asks, you now notice his hands are tainted with your blood in just a few splotches. he rummages through the kit, reaching for the hem of your shirt as he cuts through your gear and clothing. “m-my sides, and,, one in my left leg.” 

“alright. it’s gonna be okay - let’s get you sewn up. what happened?” he asks as a way of distracting you from how bad this was about to hurt. he pours some alcohol in his hands before barring your torso to his eyes, now seeing the festering wounds. 

“t-they-” you laugh because it’s hurting so bad and your eyes are getting glossy as adrenaline leaves your body. “they had automatics… every one of them was geared the fuck up. and not only that but there must’ve been twenty,, twenty five of them and five of us.” 

changbin’s head slowly shakes in disappointment that you were set up that badly for failure, his haw is tight - but he remains focused on the task at hand, cleaning you up. he lifts you up with one arm and helps you shred your arms of your sleeves completely, focusing now on the wound near your ribs. “why’d they send you in with only five people? did they want you to die? fuck.” 

“seems like it.” you chuckle, his hand stabilizes before he reaches into your wound with medical pliers to grab the bullet still embedded in you. your grip tightens on the towels beneath you, eyes now swimming with tears as you groan at the feeling of the tug of the pliers. 

“i know, i know. you’re doing good though, talk about something. tell me about the job or- your favorite music or something.” his hands dip into a bowl of water, returning to your wound to clean you from blood and put some pressure on the wound. 

“the job was shit, but,, the guys are gone. all the victims are safe and i’ll work on paper work to get them home tomorrow.” he hums, nodding. he puts a bit of topical numbing around the wound before grabbing sutures to close the open wound. “as far as music,” you laugh to yourself again, your gaze focused on the ceiling. “you trying to get to know me? didn’t think you cared so much for that.” 

his hands pause. then lower. he looks at you with a kind of genuinity you didn’t expect from the man you called your husband. “of course i care. you’re my wife.” 

“you’re always so focused on the work, on your job. you’re gone a lot. i can tell you care about the organization i just,, i don’t know. i always hoped you’d care for us too.”

he frowns a bit, his gaze is focused back to his hands as he threads the string more diligently through the needle. he’s paused, he has a focused expression and you can tell when you look at him he’s thinking - part of you hopes you haven’t stumped him, or made him uncomfortable - maybe you did hold out too much hope. 

“i do care about us. about you. i always figured since we were arranged to be married that you wouldn’t want much to do with me.” when he returns to working on your wound you wince, eyes closing tight. he apologizes quietly, but it’s over quicker than you expected. 

“i want everything to do with you, silly. you’re my husband. i want this to work between us if we’re going to be married.” your eyes are still watery and the throbbing hasn’t subsided - you wonder if part of this is delusion since your filter has seemingly disappeared in the face of pain. 

he smiles, softly. “i’m sorry that i’ve made you feel that way, and hey-” his hand reaches for yours, the one that bears the ring he gifted you on the day you were married. your eyes meet his as your head lulls to the side, you grasp onto his hand as if he’d stabilize you - and he does. “i do care about you. genuinely.”

you squeeze his hand, the wash of tears that drowned your eyes from pain spill finally. “i care about you too.” 

“don’t cry, silly. i’m almost done, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” 

after changbin coaches you through treating your wounds, he runs you a quick bath and helps you wash the dirt and sweat from your hair. it felt strange to say you felt an overwhelming trust to him - but maybe that was just the energy he exuded. he helps you to bed, and quickly showers off himself before laying next to you. 

his arm wraps around you, and the pain in your side has dulled from the medicine he made you take after closing up your wounds and cleaning them. your head rests on his chest comfortably. “you never answered my question about music.” he says suddenly. 

“i’ll play you all my faves tomorrow morning when you cook me breakfast because i got shot.” you grin cheekily against him. 

“deal.”

𝓱𝔂𝓾𝓷𝓳𝓲𝓷.↴

“i am to be his wife.” there was no expression in the gaze you cast your parents, hands folded neatly in front of you, ever obedient in the face of nobility. before your eyes, in the face of your youth your life of freedom ever awaiting your embrace is taken from you and shackled. your life is to be given to a man you didn’t know, and when shoved his own in your hands you feel the pulse of forgotten life in your palms. there was more to say other than you didn’t want this, there was more words you could sputter in anger at your parents, other screams and cries for this to not happen, yet you swallow, let your eyes gloss over, and prepare a wedding in the following year to a man you’d meet only once before promising forever to him. 

across from you at the altar he stood jaw tight, eyes glassy yet lifeless. when the wedding guests settled and your father handed you off to the prince’s hands, you breathed deep in an attempt to conceal the building tears that sparkled in your eyes. officiant you didn’t know, in the sea of people commending your marriage you knew few faces, and he spoke vows because of remembrance not because of promise. when he lifted the veil from your eyes to look at you, he for a moment faltered and his lips flattened. 

you kissed him because you had to. and you slept beside him that night because you had to. 

in marriage, you always imagined that life would blossom with a spark of light. as a seal to two people’s testament of their love it would grow into something truly beautiful - it would drink in the sun, bathe in the rain, paint its colors on pages and tell its story on lips through decades. as a young girl, the idea of one day marrying someone that loved you was thrilling to say the least. it was pure; and good. and every notion, every dream, every promise to your life you’d made, was stripped from you in a single evening. 

you’d rise from bed when the maids would wake you to dress. you’d be dressed beside your husband, wearing the rings that testified your union, and would watch over the kingdom that would be given to your hands one day. 

there was no use in trying, not even from the start. 

but you wanted to love him. oh you terribly wanted to love him. 

beside him you’d sleep - watching the curvature of his heart shaped lips, the breathing his body exuded - existence. how you were his without him even knowing. only in this state could you see him, really see him. the sprawl of his hair on the pillow before it was to be tied back that morning upon your wake. beautiful he was. when his eyes fluttered open, he wet his lips and you heard him speak - for the first time it felt as though it was to you. 

“i’m sorry.” 

for the entire rest of the day you spent in a haze in your own head. 

two months have gone by, and you were achingly in love with him. but you couldn’t say the same for him; his headspace was unknown. you shared a great castle together, a smaller one just outside the village as your parents lived inside the city walls in the palace, but home felt like a restraint on you. nothing was sacred.

when you spoke, it was matters of business and a shred of the time was talk of personal matters. the only truth you spoke to hyunjin was in the hours before he’d wake when sleep would leave you too early. you tuck your folded hands together under your pillow, your eyes washing over his face as he slept. upon your movement, he turned to his side, his broad shoulders creating lines of his body beneath his sleep shirt. part of you wanted to reach out, to wrap your arms around him and tell him you believed in the both of you, but your thoughts still to silence. 

“i wish you cared for me, in the way i care for you.” you mumble quietly. 

“but i cannot say it yet. you’re a shadow; yet you’re sorry. i’m so confused in my love for you.” 

that’s when he turned over, his eyes open. the maids walk in a second later and your wide eyes glance to them. they pause in their steps, looking between the both of you. had he heard you? surely not. you push yourself onto your elbows as he speaks to the maids, his own hands planted firmly in the mattress. 

“i can dress her.” 

they quickly excuse themselves after, mumbling as they leave the room hurriedly. the room stills, you’re left in the wake of his words with confusion bubbling through your head and your face suddenly flushed. he stands without another word as they’ve left the room, moving to the closet to fetch your under clothes, corset, and gown for the day. 

“hyunjin,” you speak softly. 

“i care greatly for you. i do, but-” 

you swallow, still sitting on the bed with your legs curled beneath the covers. “you cannot dress me.” you hold a hand to pause him in his movements as he approaches with your day clothes in hand. he swallows, “you’re my wife. i can dress you. if you’d let me.” 

hwang hyunjin was one of the most beautiful men you’d ever seen, and this he knew as well - yet the cool confidence he usually carried on his shoulders, in his handshakes, and in his voice, had dissipated. he looked at you with darting eyes that searched your own for the answers he needed, his hands gripped your dress tight. 

his hand stretches out to you, offerance of aid. you look to his palm, the gentle length of his fingers, and find his exuding energy welcoming - so you take his hand. it’s warm as your skin washes over his own, his hands were smooth and embracing, and you stand before him with a sharp intake of breath. 

“i’ve made you feel this way,” he begins, beginning to untie the laces that hang from the neck of your night dress. there’s a great deal of nerve vibrating through your body at the prospect of him dressing you, but regardless you let him in the wake of his tenderness. and if it meant a moment you could share closer to him - you’d take it. 

“you only speak your feelings to me when you think i’m asleep.” at that your breath stills, panic settles in quietly to your bones. 

“i-i’m sorry i-” “you have no need to apologize, it’s me. i’ve made you feel this way. and i’m sorry.” when your dress is removed, he kneels at your feet to gather it before letting you step into your under dress. you rest your hand on his shoulder for balance to do so. 

“in truth, i can’t tell you why i love you.” he says, his hands working to tie your second layer skirt around your waist, once it’s firm and not uncomfortable, you turn your head to look at him with glossy eyes. “you cannot say such things to me and not mean it. you can’t.” 

“i know i haven’t shown it, but it’s true, that i promise you.” with that, he gently guides your arms through the holes of your corset, and begins lacing it, leaving your eyes drowning in tears as your lips tremble. 

“you-you haven’t shown it. how am i to know you love me or that i love you when we hardly have a relationship. you’re my husband, i want to love you as one.” you gasp as he pulls the strings to tighten it, his palm laying flat on your back as he tugs once more. 

“it’s a promise i make now, to show you i do indeed love you. i want you to tell me when you’re hurting, i want to help, i want to grow with you.” his hands lay along your waist as your corset is tightened. when he rounds you, seeing your eyes fogged over, his heart pangs with guilt. 

“i’m sorry, truly. that i have made you feel this way. but please, know my promise is true.” his hands come to gather yours in his grip. 

you nod, wiping your face for a moment as you lift your gaze to look at him. “then i’ll tell you. i’ll tell you whatever you want to hear. i want to work to make this kingdom a happy place for our people, we must work together in that regard.” 

hyunjin listens, strokes his thumbs across the backs of your hands and you speak for a while longer on your marriage, how you’re both willing to work to make your love make sense, how you wish to be a unit in making the kingdom a place of happiness for your people. he prepares for the day, wearing an outfit the same shade of off-white as your own with his long dark hair tied back into a bun. 

he offers his arm to you before you both leave your bedroom, smiling softly. “thank you for talking to me.” he says, opening the door for you. “thank you for listening and talking as well. it feels nice to have this weight lifted.” 

“i agree.”

sorry if hyunjin's is written weird i was listening to cornfield chase by hans zimmer and got lost in the sauce.

#stray kids #skz #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x female reader #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids comfort #skz fluff #skz angst #skz comfort #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x female reader #lee know x reader #lee know x y/n #lee know x you #lee know x female reader #changbin x reader #changbin x y/n #changbin x you #changbin x female reader #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #hyunjin x y/n

[farmerstarter]

The Bachelors on their Wedding Day

Hi Hello have this short list of my little Headcanons of the bachelors on their wedding day. Hope you enjoy it! Reblogs and likes are appreciated!!🌷🤍

ʚ🏈ɞ ˚ · . Alex :

🏈 Fiddles with his tie relentlessly and ends up ruining it. He runs to Evelyn to ask her to tie it up again. The only other thing he fusses over is his hair.

🏈 Alex keeps a rabbit's foot in his pants, wanting all the luck he can get.

🏈 Spent literal days writing his wedding vows. Ends up opting to wing it. It wasn't the most eloquently worded thing you've heard but it was sweet.

🏈 He gave himself a pep talk in his bedroom before the ceremony. You only know about this because George was complaining about how loud he was to you.

🏈 Dusty the dog is the mermaid pendant bearer, I decided.

🏈 Also, the song that plays during the wedding is the same tune from Alex's music box. 🥺

ʚ🪶ɞ ˚ · . Elliott :

🪶Beach wedding. You guys have a beach wedding. You've expressed your interest in one and Elliott, with the eager help of Willy, clean up the beach for your special day. Elliott's shoes would fill with sand but his discomfort is overpowered by his delight when he sees you all dressed up.

🪶 He reads you one (of many) of his poems about you. You later learned that he's got a whole book of poetry about you that he's been writing ever since you two started dating. The poem he read on the wedding day was the very first one and is the first page of the book.

🪶 He spent hours trying to make himself look good. Asking for Leah and Willy's input on what he should wear for a solid 3 hours.

🪶 Aside from him worrying over his appearance, Elliott is more excited than nervous. He's on the verge of creating a new chapter in his life with someone else. Gone are the days of his lonely shack and the empty (well, not as empty since you moved into town) beach. Honestly, to say that he's excited is an understatement.

ʚ🛩️ɞ ˚ · . Harvey :

🛩️ Gets awfully shy when reading his vows, stuttering his way through his words and being a blushing mess. He has no problem with the one-on-one check up sessions he does with the other villagers of Pelican Town, but to read aloud in front of all of them at once threw him off. But he kept his eyes on you and managed to power through it.

🛩️ He considered shaving off his mustache for the wedding at least twice. But he decided against the idea.

🛩️ Insisted that you eat Farmer's Brunch the morning of the wedding. Even during your wedding day, he wants to make sure you're feeling healthy.

🛩️ Holds your hands throughout the whole ceremony. Whispering apologies for how clammy his hands are.

ʚ🎸ɞ ˚ · . Sam :

🎸 He wrote a whole song about you and played it on your wedding day. He made it a surprise for you and the moments of him hiding his guitar and shoving music sheets under his bed when you visit his room were all starting to make sense to you.

🎸 Couldn't sleep for the whole night before the wedding. He worried over the ceremony and wanted to make it go smoothly. He's not one to meticulously plan every detail, opting to engage in spur of the moment decisions, but he tried his best to make everything as close to perfect as he can get.

🎸 Jodi tried to gel Sam's hair back, but no matter the amount of gel and hours, his hair would always spring back. Sam wasn't a fan of dressing up in a "dorky suit" but he did anyway, for you.

🎸 Sam didn't want to see you until the wedding so he got Vincent to play messenger for the two of you. He wouldn't do it at first but only agreed to do it because he likes you (Cue a dramatic gasp from Sam).

ʚ🐸ɞ ˚ · . Sebastian :

🐸 Ends up smiling through the whole ceremony, looking at you with such a brightness in his eyes.

🐸 He isn't one to wear anything fancy. The closest thing he ever wore that is considered formal was the suit that Lewis got him and the rest of the dancers to wear for the Flower Dance. He asks his mom to help him dress up for the wedding, asking her about it while she was building furniture. Sebastian doesn't want to admit it, but he liked watching his mom so happy over something that was so mundane to him. He makes sure to keep the suit in perfect condition throughout the ceremony because of it.

🐸 He tells his very heartfelt wedding vows. And while he does, you could hear the faint "that's good," from Elliott before a grunt, inevitably elbowed on the side by Leah.

🐸 You and him ride on his motorcycle after the wedding. He drives you two to the cliff overlooking the city, the same cliff where he confessed his true feelings to you. Under the full moon, the two of you would look at the stars with Sebastian occasionally pointing at a constellation that Maru taught him to find.

🐸 Consider: winter wedding.

ʚ🐣ɞ ˚ · . Shane :

🐣 Genuinely doesn't believe that you want to marry him. He thinks it's a dream at best and a prank at worst. It wasn't until you were tying his mermaid pendant around his neck for him to know that you do love him. He still has trouble understanding it sometimes.

🐣 Shane asked Marnie to teach him how to waltz for your wedding day. Sure, he's danced in the Flower Dance countless of times but he wanted to learn something new to surprise you. And he did. After dancing with you, he dances with Jas. Well, it's more of Jas standing on Shane's feet while he walks and glides around.

🐣 He gave his chicken, Charlie, a bow tie for the wedding and everything. Even got a picture of you and Shane with the little guy. The picture ends up being hanged on Shane's side of the bedroom for many years to come.

🐣 Has his pocket full of corn chips, let's be honest. He offers one to you before the ceremony starts.

#stardew valley #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley fanfic #sdv elliot x farmer #sdv elliot x reader #sdv sebastian x farmer #sdv sebastian x reader #sdv alex x reader #sdv alex x farmer #sdv harvey x reader #sdv harvey x farmer #sdv sam x reader #sdv sam x farmer #sdv shane x reader #sdv shane x farmer #sdv alex #sdv elliott #sdv harvey #sdv sam #sdv Sebastian #sdv shane #support banner at the end is by cafekitsune 🤍 #🌱 writing :: BACHELORS

[strwbrythoughts]

no stopping a man in love | alhaitham

In which the traveler and Paimon catches Alhaitham indulging in something unexpected.

A/N: I might as well make this whole blog dedicated to Alhaitham because man's got my heart in a chokehold :(

Divider by @/osqrie

The House of Daena was filled with the sounds of pages turned over and the quick footsteps of the students flitting from one bookcase to another. Furrowed eyebrows and downturned lips decorated each of their faces. The librarian seemed stressed out to navigate the flurry of students and assist them in finding books. Even a stranger could tell the obvious; examination season was right around the corner.

Alhaitham, the ex-Acting Grand Sage and current Scribe of the Akademiya, had his eyes glued onto his surroundings. Though his expression remained neutral, he couldn't deny the feeling of annoyance building up inside him. The library was way too noisy to be called one. It was a good thing that he was enjoying his read so far. Though, the choice of reading fiction was something that not a lot of people would expect from him.

Yes, he had a book titled "The Genius Falls in Love!" nestled in his hands.

He didn't really catch the eye of anyone. After all, it wasn't weird that the Scribe would spend his day in the library instead of his office. His work hours were long but he never really complied to them. That was something that the students were mighty jealous of. What they didn't know, however, was that his work was always submitted on time with the highest quality. A trait that most of them could only hope to achieve.

Alhaitham put on his noise-cancelling earphones. His eyes relaxed slightly as he could focus better on the book in his hand. He was already on chapter 22. An impressive amount of reading, given that he only received the book that morning.

His body rested fully onto the chair he sat on. He closed his eyes, remembering the sweet smile his wife gave him as she handed him the book.

'Here, honey!' she exclaimed, shoving a book into his hands. 'If you miss me at work, read this book I wrote! And tell me how it went, yeah?'

From the moment he stepped out of their shared house, he flipped the book open. 'Ridiculous,' he thought to himself. 'I always miss you when you're not by my side.'

And so off he went. He finished all the work he deemed urgent enough on that day, before immediately going back to reading. It was quite the comical sight, really. The stoic genius reading a fictional book? A romance, at that? Impossible. Utterly ridiculous.

And yet, here he was.

The work day passed by so quickly when he spent it reading. Before he knew it, the librarian came over to his spot and told him that the library was closing. Alhaitham immediately got up and left to go home.

--

The walk back was quiet and peaceful enough. The mere sight of his wife's face as she greeted him at the door was enough to make a smile appear on his face, no matter how slight.

"Honey! How was work today? What did you eat during lunch? Did you have time to read my book?" It was expected that his wife would bombard him with questions the moment he came home. However, she was special in every way. For instance, he would always answer each question she had calmly, no matter how frequent or stupid they may be.

"I'm back. Work was completed like usual today. I ate the lunch you prepared for me, and I'm halfway through your book, my dear."

His wife giggled at the thought of her husband taking some time out of his busy day to read her work. What she didn't know was that his day was scheduled around her, and never around anything else.

Until the traveler and Paimon had some interesting news to bring to her.

--

"Traveler, look! Is Alhaitham reading...a romance?"

Paimon's voice bounced off the walls of the House of Daena. She had successfully captured the eyes of many students, causing the traveler to put their hand over their head. Perhaps to block a headache induced by her lack of realisation that they were in the library.

Paimon's hands flew over her mouth right after the words were uttered. Her eyes seemed apologetic enough, darting over to the traveler as a silent apology. The traveler merely shot her an awkward smile.

It was a good thing that Alhaitham himself did not pay them any mind. The way his ears perked up slightly showed that he indeed heard Paimon, but perhaps chose to ignore them. However, the eyes glued to his person was quite bothersome, even for someone as stoic as him.

He shut the book in his hands quite loudly, hinting his irritation at Paimon. She only gulped and shot a panicked expression at the traveler, who deadpanned at her. The both of them stood still as they heard Alhaitham's footsteps approach them. He was getting closer and closer with each thud of his footsteps.

"I would appreciate if you did not point out whatever business unrelated to you." His voice was calm, just like his expression. His eyes told a different story all together. The traveler's flying companion could only apologise repeatedly, while the traveler shot him an apologetic smile.

After a few seconds of awkward silence between the trio, the Scribe walked away from the both of them. His right hand carried the romance book he was reading quite delicately, as if it was his most precious treasure. And it truly was.

Anything related to his wife was a treasure to him, and he would never forgive himself if he failed to appreciate even the simplest things about her.

--

"...and that was it! He seemed really annoyed that the Akademiya students were looking at him curiously." Paimon ended her story to Alhaitham's wife. She merely chuckled at the tale.

"Of course he was. He dislikes people getting into his business after all."

"Are you sure he isn't acting like that because he's embarrassed about getting caught reading something so...unexpected, of him?" The traveler furrowed their eyebrows as their companion asked such question with no hesitation. She really needed to learn to read the room sometimes.

Before she could answer, Alhaitham embraced his wife from behind. His eyes were calm, as if having his wife in his arms was all it took to make him feel tranquil.

"Do you really think I'd be reading such book in public if I were to be 'embarrassed' about it? Moreover, how could my lovely wife ever make me feel embarrassed?"

That was more than enough of an answer for the traveler and Paimon. They smiled sweetly at the response. The smiles were short lived, however, as Alhaitham sent them both out of his house, wanting to be alone with his wife.

Ah, well. There's no stopping a man in love, is there?

Thank you for reading! <3

#female reader #alhaitham #al haitham #alhaitham x reader #al haitham x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #berry writes

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Hi! I don't know if you already have an idea for the birthday post, if you do feel free to ignore this...my favourite trope is dad!harry too...what if H has to go for an emergency meeting somewhere else out the country even before his birthday and he has to spend his birthday there too and he is bummed about it...the fmc can fly out with their daughter/son and when he is back from his meeting his room is all decorated and stuff and she tells him she asked jeff to cancel everything...and they do a bunch of fun stuff but at night, after dinner she and the baby surprise him with another baby or something and he is like best birthday ever, 30 is already amazing

Happy 30th Birthday, Baby.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

authors note - thank you so much to @missbearforfun for sending in this request, ive had had a fun time writing this, ive changed a few things up, so i hope that ive done it justice.

i can’t believe that my boy is 30….like i swear he was just auditioning for the x-factor yesterday. 🥹

word count - 4.4k

in which, harry gets called to do a meeting in italy, two days before his birthday, which means that he’ll be spending his 30th out there with just his manager jeff, what he doesn’t realise is that you, his darling wife, fly out to surprise him and hopefully give him the best birthday he’s ever had.

You’ve been in Harry’s life for just over ten years.

You’ve spent five of those years as boyfriend and girlfriend, two of those years as his fiancé, and now, this year will be leading up to the third year being each other's husband and wife.

The first birthday of his that you spent with him, was his 20th all the way back in 2014. He had organised an intimate get together at a restaurant full of all of his closest family and friends, and it was the first time that you would be turning up together, as an official couple seeing as the only people who knew about the two of you were his band mates and his mother,sister, father and step father.

It was also the night that he confessed to you that he loved you, and that you were the one person that he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with.

From that moment on, every birthday became a cherished chapter in your shared history.

Waking up in each other's arms has become a comforting tradition, marking the beginning of a day dedicated solely to celebrating Harry's existence. The warmth of those morning embraces symbolises the depth of your connection, a connection that has withstood the tests of time.

As the years unfolded, you've witnessed the evolution of Harry, both in age and character, yet the love between you two has remained unwavering.

From his 21st to his 30th birthday, you've made it a point to spend the day in a way that brings him joy. Whether it's exploring new places, indulging in his favourite activities, or simply relaxing together, the focus has always been on creating memories that reflect the essence of Harry.

Each birthday has become a canvas on which you paint moments of happiness and shared experiences.

You had spent every birthday with him, but for this one, it appeared to already be turning out in a way neither of you had expected.

A mere few days before Harry's anticipated birthday, an unexpected call from his manager, Jeff, sent ripples of disappointment through his plans. The urgency of an issue related to his beauty brand, Pleasing, required Harry's immediate attention in the Italy.

The brand we’re thinking of opening a pop-up shop over there, seeing as the country held so much adoration in both of your hearts, it was the place where you got married, the place where he proposed and where he now wanted his fans over there to have access to him and what he had to offer.

With flights already booked, he faced the heart-wrenching reality of having to leave just over two days before his special day. Devastation etched across his face as he contemplated the unforeseen disruption to the birthday celebration he had eagerly anticipated.

In a desperate attempt to reason with Jeff, Harry explained his deep desire to spend his birthday with you, sharing the disappointment that overshadowed the joy of the impending celebration.

However, the urgency of the matter prevailed, leaving Harry torn between personal desires and professional obligations. As his best mate and manager, Jeff empathised with Harry but emphasised the gravity of the situation, reinforcing the necessity of this unexpected journey.

Amidst the disappointment, you stepped in to comfort Harry, assuring him that celebrations could be postponed but his presence and well-being mattered most. You offered solace, reminding him that distance could not diminish the love and connection you shared.

The promise of a belated but equally meaningful celebration upon his return brought a glimmer of hope to the gloom that hung over his imminent departure.

You had promised him, that you would FaceTime him on his actual birthday and that you would both order the same takeaway that night and have a little over the phone date, just to celebrate this big milestone.

On the morning Harry was set to depart for Italy, the anticipation of his journey hung in the air. Dressed for travel, he stood before you with a small suitcase by the door.

Shoes on, cap snug, and sunglasses concealing his eyes, he exuded a mix of excitement and reluctance. Despite the January chill in London, the promise of Italy's warmth upon landing prompted him to prepare for a contrasting climate.

Your eyes held a silent plea as you stood before him, sorrow evident in your gaze.

"I wish I didn't have t’go," Harry admitted, his voice tinged with regret.

You nodded, understanding the weight of the situation, your silence echoing the unspoken emotions in the room.

Milo, your ten-month-old Rottweiler puppy, sensed the sombre atmosphere, wagging his tail as if trying to infuse joy into the moment.

Unable to contain your emotions, you wrapped your arms around Harry in a tight hug.

"I'll miss you so much," you whispered, your voice betraying the ache within. Harry's embrace tightened, and he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"I'll miss y’more, m’love," he murmured, the sincerity in his words resonating with the depth of his emotions.

Crouching down to pet Milo, Harry spoke to the pup with a soft smile, "Take care of mummy for me, little buddy."

Milo responded with excited barks, seemingly understanding the impending absence.

Standing up, Harry looked into your eyes, his own reflecting a mixture of love and longing.

Your gaze locked with his, finding solace in the promise of a future reunion.

"We'll have the most amazing belated birthday celebration," you said, trying to inject positivity into the moment.

Harry smiled, his eyes reflecting gratitude.

"I can't wait f’that. Until then, stay strong f’me," he said, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips.

As the door closed behind him, the echo of his departure resonated through the silent space. Left with the imprint of his touch, the memory of his presence, and the anticipation of his return, you and Milo faced a home that suddenly felt emptier without him.

"I'll make sure t’send y’pictures from Italy," Harry called out from the hallway.

"And don't forget to spoil Milo a bit extra for me!" he added with a playful grin, the reassurance in his voice providing a small comfort amid the impending distance.

The day of his actual birthday, you woke up at seven am, which meant it was eight am for Harry.

It was a nice early face time call, in which you had called someone from the town near your shared beach house and got them to deliver flowers so they we’re scheduled to arrive whilst the two of you were calling, so you could see his face when he received them.

Little did he know, as the virtual celebration concluded, that you were already en route to Italy to surprise the love of your life.

His manager, Jeff, had orchestrated the clandestine journey, booking a flight that not only allowed your presence but accommodated Milo, your loyal puppy companion.

On the fairly empty flight, with just a few scattered passengers, you found solace in the quiet journey across the skies. Milo, nestled on the seat next to you, peacefully dozed off, completely unaware of the grand surprise awaiting his owner.

The hum of the plane engines provided a soothing backdrop as you envisioned the joy that would light up Harry's face when you appeared unexpectedly in celebration of his special day.

Upon landing in Italy, you and Milo were swiftly escorted off the plane by a discreet security team. The importance of maintaining the surprise for Harry became evident as the team efficiently navigated through the airport. The mission was clear: to whisk you away from the public eye, avoiding any chance of word spreading that Harry's wife had arrived.

Passing through passport control with just a carry-on bag in tow, the security team ensured a seamless transition. The anticipation heightened as you and Milo moved through the airport, surrounded by the subtle hum of secrecy. Every step taken was a careful manoeuvre to preserve the surprise and shield the unfolding celebration from prying eyes.

Exiting the airport, you were guided to a waiting jeep. The security team orchestrated a smooth transition, knowing that time was of the essence.

Jeff:

H just left for a meeting, so you’ve got at least an hour to get everything ready !!

As the jeep sped toward the villa, Jeff's text notification illuminated your phone screen. His message revealed that Harry was currently engrossed in a meeting, providing a valuable window of time to set up a birthday surprise.

The prospect of transforming the house into a beautiful haven of celebration filled you with excitement. Knowing you had at least an hour before Harry's return heightened the anticipation, and thoughts of his surprised expression fueled your determination.

The journey continued through the picturesque landscapes of Italy, the half-hour drive feeling like both an eternity and a heartbeat away from reuniting with Harry. Milo, sensing the energy, shifted restlessly in anticipation, adding an extra layer of warmth to the already charged atmosphere within the jeep.

The realization that the culmination of meticulous planning was drawing near only fueled your eagerness.

The mere thought of seeing Harry after two days of separation fueled your determination to make this surprise an unforgettable celebration of love and connection. The countdown to the reunion had begun.

"Here we are," the driver announced as the jeep came to a stop in front of the villa. You thanked him and handed over a ten-euro tip, expressing gratitude for the swift and discreet journey.

Grabbing Milo's leash and your bag, you stepped out into the Italian air, the scent of anticipation mingling with the promise of celebration.

As you approached the door, the distinct aroma of Harry's aftershave enveloped you, confirming his recent presence. A pair of his white vans neatly placed by the entrance hinted at the intimate details of his daily routine.

With a smile, you inserted the key into the lock, unlocking the door to a space filled with the essence of the man you dearly missed.

"Milo, we're home," you murmured to your furry companion, who eagerly bounded into the living room.

The atmosphere inside resonated with familiarity, and Milo, seemingly aware of the joyous occasion, leaped onto the sofa, his tail wagging in sync with the pulsating excitement in the air.

Upon stepping into the villa, you wasted no time. The suitcase that accompanied you served as a treasure trove of celebratory delights. With swift precision, you unzipped it, revealing an inflatable 3 and 0, along with vibrant banners that spelled out "Happy Birthday."

The living room became a canvas for your creativity, and the decorations unfolded in a dance of colors and joy.

Inflating the giant numbers, you strategically placed them to catch Harry's eye the moment he entered. The banners crisscrossed the room, creating a vibrant tapestry of celebration. The atmosphere transformed with each decoration, turning the space into a haven of love and festivity.

The decorating didn’t take long, maybe around half an hour, so that left you waiting, and each minute felt like hell.

You so badly just wanted him in your arms.

Seated in the midst of the festive setup, you pulled out your phone, eager to share the news of your safe arrival with your family. Fingers danced across the screen as you texted messages of reassurance and excitement, capturing the essence of this special moment.

The living room, now a symphony of color and joy, served as the backdrop to your messages, each tap echoing the anticipation of the grand birthday surprise awaiting Harry.

As you sat in the living room, engrossed in your phone, the jingling of keys outside signaled Harry's arrival. Swiftly, you rose from your seat, Milo by your side, his tail wagging in silent excitement.

Attempting to be as quiet as possible, you made your way to the entry hall, your heart pounding with anticipation. The festive atmosphere of the decorated living room served as a backdrop to the impending surprise.

Harry entered, shutting the door behind him with a sense of routine. His tote bag dropped to the floor, and in his initial distraction, he failed to notice the pair of women's shoes by the entrance.

His gaze scanned the surroundings briefly before turning away, only to snap back with wide eyes when he caught sight of you standing there.

His mouth parted in shock, a mixture of disbelief and joy washing over his face.

Time seemed to stand still for a moment as Harry processed the unexpected presence before him. The shock gave way to a radiant smile, his eyes lighting up with genuine happiness. Milo's tail wagged furiously, mirroring the palpable joy in the room.

Harry's initial shock dissolved into pure joy as he stared at you standing in the entry hall. Without a moment's hesitation, he rushed over, gathering you into a tight embrace. The warmth of his arms enveloped you, an unspoken reassurance of the love that bridged the distance between you two. Your eyes welled up with tears, mirroring the emotion evident in his gaze.

"Happy birthday," you whispered, the words carrying the weight of your love and the joy of this surprise.

As Harry lifted his head, his lips sought yours in a cascade of affectionate kisses. Each press was a testament to the depth of the connection shared, a celebration of love that transcended the days of separation.

The room, filled with decorations and the silent witness of Milo, became a sanctuary for this spontaneous reunion.

In the midst of the kisses, Harry's laughter bubbled up, the sheer delight of the unexpected surprise washing over him.

"M’can't believe you're here," he admitted, his eyes sparkling with gratitude. Milo, sensing the joy, wagged his tail energetically, completing the tableau of love and celebration.

“I couldn't not see you on your birthday," you admitted with a warm smile, still wrapped in Harry's embrace.

"Milo missed his daddy so much that we had to come and surprise you." You winked playfully, a cheeky smile tugging at your lips. "And, well, maybe I missed you a bit too."

Harry's eyes lit up with a mixture of surprise and delight.

"Y’really came all the way here just for me?" he asked, his voice filled with gratitude. Milo, sensing the joy in the room, barked in agreement, tail wagging enthusiastically.

Cupping his face in your hands, you responded, "Absolutely. Birthdays are meant to be celebrated with the ones you love, and we couldn't let a few miles keep us apart, now could we?"

“But I’ve got meetings the entire day,”he pouted, head getting thrown back slightly. “But I wanna spend the entire day with you.”

You played with the peach fuzz at the back of his neck. “Well it’s a good job I’ve cleared your schedule then, huh?”

“Wait,”he snapped his head over to yours from where he was staring lovingly at Milo. “So I’ve got the whole day with you?”

“We’ve got the whole day together, baby.” You confirmed, watching as his dimples appeared on his face.

In need of a refreshment, you and Harry migrated to the kitchen. As he poured himself an ice-cold glass of water, you settled at the kitchen island, nibbling on a cracker slathered with butter.

Looking at Harry, you asked, "Any cravings for today?"

He grinned and replied, "Actually, I've been craving a nice stroll around the town with Milo. Maybe we can stop for some ice cream and, perhaps, a cheeky bottle of rouge."

Harry's eyes sparkled with the prospect of a leisurely day. He reached for your hand, fingers intertwining, and continued, "What do you think, love?"

You offered a small smile, well aware that your current circumstances limited certain indulgences. "Sounds lovely," you responded, playing with the cross necklace around his neck. "I'm up for a walk and some ice cream.”

The wine….not so much.

/ /

As the day wore on, bathed in the warm glow of the Italian sun, you changed into a pair of comfortable denim shorts and one of Harry's shirts, embracing the casual charm of the town. The borrowed shirt hung loosely on your frame, carrying the familiar scent that provided a comforting connection to Harry.

Together, hand in hand, you and Harry strolled along the old streets, a timeless backdrop for the unfolding birthday celebration.

Milo, ever the enthusiastic companion, trotted alongside, his leash held firmly in Harry's hand. The cobbled streets echoed with the gentle sounds of your footsteps, creating a serene melody as you explored the charming corners of the town.

The quaint architecture and rustic charm of the surroundings added a picturesque touch to the shared moments of the day.

The narrow alleyways led you to hidden gems and inviting cafés, where the scent of freshly brewed coffee and sweet treats filled the air.

Each step carried with it the promise of discovery and the joy of simply being together. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm hue over the town, and the leisurely pace of the day allowed you to savor the simple pleasures of the moment.

As you continued your leisurely walk through the charming streets of Italy, Milo suddenly stopped in his tracks, his nose diligently sniffing around the ground. With an amused grin, you watched as he searched for just the right spot to do his business.

After a moment of consideration, Milo found the perfect place, and you turned to Harry with a playful expression.

"Happy birthday to you," you teased, handing Harry the poo bag with a grin. He laughed and fake gagged, taking the bag with a theatrical expression of horror.

Milo, seemingly oblivious to the lighthearted banter, continued with his canine duties, contributing his unique birthday gift to the day's events.

Continuing your walk through the enchanting town, you and Harry engaged in easy conversation, the cadence of laughter punctuating the air. The narrow streets echoed with the shared joy of the day, every step deepening the connection between you two. Silly anecdotes and playful banter flowed freely, turning the casual stroll into a delightful journey of shared moments.

As you meandered through the old streets, each corner unveiled new surprises, and every twist and turn became an opportunity for discovery. The simple act of being together, immersed in the charm of the surroundings, fueled the laughter and strengthened the bond between you and Harry.

As you continued your stroll through the charming town, the sight of a small bistro with a quaint outdoor seating area caught Harry's eye.

"How about we grab a bite there? it looks like a nice spot," he suggested, nodding toward the bistro. You agreed with a smile, appreciating the thought of a cozy meal in such a picturesque setting.

Heading towards the entrance, you were met by a friendly waiter.

"How can I help you?" he inquired. Harry responded,

"Just a table outside, please." The waiter, with a welcoming smile, gestured for you to follow, leading you to a charming table nestled in the outdoor seating area. The sun cast a warm glow, creating an inviting ambiance for a leisurely meal.

Seated at the quaint table, Milo by your side, the waiter handed you the menus. "Browse through these, a waiter will be over shortly, and let me know if there's anything else you need," he offered before leaving you to peruse the options. The aroma of delectable dishes wafted through the air, enhancing the anticipation of a delightful meal in the heart of the town.

Harry, glancing at the menu, looked up at you with a playful grin.

"What are you in the mood for, m’love?" he asked.

You.

Wait what?

As you and Harry enjoyed the cozy atmosphere of the bistro, another waiter, a friendly woman with a welcoming smile, approached your table.

"Good evening! Do you know what you'd like to order?" she inquired, pen poised above her notepad.

Harry, ever decisive, was the first to respond.

"I'll have a glass of y’house red wine, please," he said, glancing at the wine list.

Turning to you, the waiter asked, "And for you, ma'am?"

You flashed a smile and softly shook your head.

"I'll just go for a fresh lemonade, please." Attempting to steer away any suspicion, you added, "Feeling like something light today."

Harry, catching the cue, chimed in, "Just a light and easygoing evening, you know?"

He winked at you, his eyes filled with playful complicity.

The waiter jotted down your drink orders and nodded. "Certainly, a glass of red wine and a fresh lemonade. Now, what can I get for your main courses?"

You perused the menu, deciding on a chicken salad, and Harry opted for the salmon antipasto. You exchanged glances, sharing a silent agreement on the choices. As the waiter collected your menu choices, she remarked,

"Excellent choices! Your orders will be out shortly. Enjoy your evening!"

With the waiter's departure, Harry leaned in with a teasing grin.

"A fresh lemonade, m’love? Feeling like a saint today, are we?" he quipped, his playful banter laced with affection.

You chuckled, playing along. "Well, saints need a refreshing drink too, don't they? Besides, I'm saving room for that delicious chicken salad."

Harry laughed, raising an eyebrow in mock suspicion. "Alright, alright, I won't question y’saintly decisions. S’just enjoy this lovely evening and the meal to come."

The waiter returned with your drinks about five minutes later, placing a glass of red wine in front of Harry and a refreshing lemonade for you. As she walked away, leaving you two to enjoy your beverages, you lifted your glass and initiated a spontaneous toast.

"Cheers to your birthday, my love," you exclaimed, your eyes sparkling with affection. "I just wanted to take a moment to say how much I love you. I can't wait to spend eternity together, celebrating moments like these."

Harry's gaze softened, and he blinked his glass against yours.

"To eternity and beyond," he replied, his voice filled with warmth. "M’the luckiest person to have you by m’side. Here's to many more birthdays and unforgettable moments together."

The bistro's ambiance embraced the intimate exchange, and you continued to express your love and appreciation for Harry.

"You make every day special, but today, on your birthday, I want it to be extra magical for you," you confessed, your sincerity echoing in the quiet moments between sips of the refreshing lemonade.

Harry's smile widened, and he reached across the table to gently squeeze your hand. "Having y’here is the best gift I could ever ask for. Every moment with you is magical, and m’grateful for it all."

/ /

As the early evening settled around the villa, you found yourselves back in the comforting haven of your shared space. In the bathroom, bathed in a soft glow, you stood before the mirror, carefully removing mascara and eyeliner.

The simple act of cleansing away the day's makeup was a routine that marked the transition from daytime adventures to the quiet moments of the evening.

Meanwhile, in the bedroom, Harry lay on the bed, Milo nestled at his feet. He absentmindedly scratched at the short growth of hair on his head, a subtle reminder of a recent decision to shave it off.

The room radiated with a sense of tranquility as you each indulged in the rituals that marked the end of the day.

Wearing one of Harry's shirts that enveloped you in the familiar scent of him, you busied yourself in the bathroom, preparing a late evening birthday surprise.

The soft rustling sounds of your movements echoed against the backdrop of Harry's contemplative scratching, creating a harmony of shared space and intimate connection.

With a soft smile gracing your lips, you glanced at yourself in the bathroom mirror before deciding it was time to return to the bedroom.

Your hands were discreetly behind your back, holding a late evening birthday surprise for Harry. As you stepped into the bedroom, Harry, already seated on the bed, noticed your presence and sat up, beckoning you with open arms.

"I want a cuddle," he declared, his eyes twinkling with a playful warmth. Unable to resist his endearing request, you let out a soft giggle at his baby-like antics.

Playfully, you approached the bed as he beckoned you forward.

Crawling onto the bed next to him, you let yourself be enveloped in his arms. You laid your head on his chest, the rhythmic beat of his heart echoing comfort and love.

The anticipation of the surprise gift still hidden behind your back added an extra layer of excitement to the intimate moment.

"I missed you," Harry murmured, his voice a gentle caress. You pressed a kiss over his heart, savoring the warmth of the connection. His arms tightened around you, embracing the familiar comfort of being close.

Taking a deep breath, you looked at Harry with a warm smile, saying, "I've got one last present for you. Close your eyes."

Harry hesitated for a moment, a playful smirk tugging at his lips, before obediently shutting his eyes. With gentle steps, you moved towards him, the late evening's golden glow casting a soft ambiance around you.

In your hands, you held a delicate gift, and with a mix of hesitation and tenderness, you softly placed it in Harry's hands.

"Okay, open your eyes," you instructed, your heart fluttering with a secret that had the power to change your lives forever.

Harry blinked his eyes open, and as he glanced down at his hands, a flicker of confusion passed over his face. Then, his gaze landed on the small object nestled in his palms.

It took a moment for the realisation to sink in, and when he saw what it was, his eyes widened, and he gasped.

"What... is this?" Harry stammered, his voice shaky with emotion.

His trembling fingers picked up the small pregnancy test.

The room fell silent as the weight of the revelation settled in. Harry's eyes locked onto the test, and tears immediately welled up.

"S’this for real?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "This isn't some sick joke, right?"

You shook your head, a mixture of joy and vulnerability in your gaze. Leaning forward, you pressed your forehead against his, tears streaming down both your cheeks.

"It's true, H. I'm eleven weeks pregnant," you whispered, the magnitude of the moment engulfing you both in a wave of overwhelming emotions.

Harry's breath caught, and he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes.

"I... we're going to be parents?" he uttered, a mix of disbelief and elation in his voice.

A tender smile graced your lips, and you nodded. "Yes, Harry. We're going to be parents."

Tears rolled down his cheeks as he pulled you into a tight embrace.

"I can't believe it. M’going to be a dad," he mumbled against your hair, his voice filled with a joy that echoed through the room.

Overwhelmed with emotion, Harry leaned forward, his hand gently pressing against your stomach as if trying to connect with the new life growing within.

The tender touch conveyed a depth of love that words could only strive to express. His lips found yours in a sweet, lingering kiss, and as he pulled back, he whispered, "I love you, I love you, I love you."

“This is the best birthday ever,”he spoke, chocking out a soft sob. “Thank you m’love, thank you, thank you for making us parents.”

You softly placed your hands on his cheeks to get him to look at you, and when his green eyes met yours, you smiled at him tenderly.

“Happy 30th Birthday, Baby.”

#musicforastylesrestaurant #harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fake ig #harry styles headcanon #harry styles x oc #harrystylesdrabble #harry styles fake social media #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harrystylesxreader #harry styles one shot #harry styles x yn #harry’s house #harrystylesxyn #anon <3 #dad!harry #dadrry

[imwetforyourmom]

not her

warnings: swearing, suggestive, kissing/making out, established relationship, slight grinding

a/n: to the anon that requested, i’m actually so fucking sorry that I forgot. I will be splitting this request into a few parts, so I hope that it makes up for my forgetfulness 🙏🙏

PREVIOUS CHAPTER ~~ NEXT CHAPTER

~

matt pressed y/ns body against the wall, his lips furiously attacking hers. his hands glued to her hips, holding them against the wall. y/ns hands cupping his cheeks as she kissed him passionately. his hips pressed against hers, grinding his clothed boner against her stomach, seeking any sort of friction to release at least a little bit of the ache in his pants.

their kisses and hips began moving with more need, until, the bell ringing interrupted them. pulling away, y/n whispered against matts lips, “we have to attend class, baby.”

matt pulled off her with a groan, reaching into his pants to adjust his cock in his boxers, attempting to hide it without actually do anything about it, he’d just have to deal with it till class was over.

“yeah, okay” he mumbled, grabbing y/ns arm and pressing a quick kiss onto her forehead, then pulling both her and matt out of the janitors closet. glancing around the hall—only to see not a soul present. he then began walking towards his and y/ns classroom, stopping infront of the door and mumbling “okay, you go first, then ill go after, a few minutes after you. k?”

to which, y/n agreed and walked into the classroom, taking a seat in any available desk she could find.

not too long later, as matt had said he walked into the classroom aswell, taking a seat but not next to y/n, to her surprise he took a seat across the room from her.

the teacher, Mrs. Frayers took a glance at each of them, examining their appearance, both flushed and hair a slight mess, more so matts than y/ns. Mrs. Frayers scoffed and turned back around to the board, pointing to different chalked words and explaining the meaning.

a loud knock on the door was heard, a girl coming in shortly after the knock. she had long, red hair, a slim but slightly tall figure and green eyes that were dark, but had lighter green streaks. she nervously fidgeted with her backpack strap, she took in a breath before saying a meek “i’m the new student.” to the teacher, she was so nervous, yet she looked so confident. her chin held high and her posture was perfect.

Mrs. Frayers smiled at the girl, replying to her. “ah, yes! come here.” the redheaded girl moved quickly, walking to the front of the classroom, awkwardly shifting on her feet. she glanced over at the teacher, whom just looked at her, “are you going to introduce yourself?” Mrs. Frayers asked, her eyebrows raised.

the girl nodded her head, clearing her throat and looking at the students, “i’m amelia and i’m 17.” she spoke, her voice no longer quiet, but now quite loud and speaking with an assertive tone, yet she had no reason to. amelia’s eyes looked through the desks, looking for an empty one, her eyes landing on the one right next to matt, as her eyes examined matt, a sly smirk growing on her face as well as a pink blush on her cheeks. she wants him, and she was going to get him, no matter what. “well, amelia, you may go sit down now.” Mrs. Frayers said, urging her to take a seat so she could continue teaching.

amelia did as said, taking a seat next to matt, matt turned, watching amelia situate herself in the desk. slinging her backpack on the back of her chair and grabbing her books, laying them out before fixing her posture and looking ahead of her, listening intently to the teachers words. she acted as if she was goody miss two shoes, trying to peek matt’s attention by acting all innocent. she knew it would work, it always does.

y/n watched as well, specifically looking at how her boyfriend was staring so hard into some other girl, his eyes trained on her body.

~

during lunch, where matt had sat with y/n, nick, chris and madi all eating their lunches and chatting together, weirdly enough talking about monkeys, as chris had brought them up, talking about how funny they were. Amelia saw the group and made her way over, if she was going to get matt, she’d need to build a bond with both him and his friends first. she knew what she was doing, this wasn’t amelia’s first time and it sure as hell wouldn’t be her last.

“hi guys!” amelia’s voice interrupted the group’s conversation. “can I sit with you all?” she asked, inching closer to the table, the seat directly next to matt. the chairs weren’t too spaced, and so if she was going to sit next to him, their arms would have to touch each other, whether they liked it or not. “yeah, sure!” chris answered, his eyes glancing at the seat next to matt, then back at amelia, silently wandering why she didn’t just sit with y/n and madi, speaking of how all three were girls and they could talk about girl things together.

amelia took her seat next to matt, grabbing her bottle of water and fake struggling to open it, with a huff, she looked at matt. with puppy dog eyes she tapped his shoulder, he turned around, looking at her with a confused face “yeah?” he asked, his eyes looking at the distressed look on her face and the bottle in her hands. the skin on her finger pinker than usual and slightly rough, showing the evidence of her struggle with the bottle cap.

“can you open this for me, please?” she asked, scooting the bottle towards matt, popping her bottom lip out in a pouty way, in a convincing manner. matt took the bottle from her opening it with ease and placing it back on the table. “woah! you’re so strong” she complimented, her eyes trailing to matt’s bicep in a flirty way. “yeah, thanks.” matt smiled warmly at her, his cheeks going a slight pink from her compliment.

meanwhile, y/n sat on the other side of matt, completely given up on trying to get her boyfriends attention, his entire interaction with amelia she had been tapping his shoulder, whispering his name and even going as far as placing her hand on his thigh trying to get his attention, yet she had been ignored each time. so now, she was slumped in her chair, arms crossed over her chest as she didn’t bother to look at amelia and matt, but was forced to listen to their conversation. amelia’s voice being high-pitched and so annoying to the point y/n so badly wanted to rip her ears off and leave it at that.

1159 words.

@luverboychris @chrissturniolosfavoritesexdoll @meg-sturniolo @junnniiieee07 @genshin-addict @mels22lunchbox @ssilentzom @sturnib-tch @b2cute @livvy4realll @graysturns @wh0resstuff @jnkvivi

#sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #matthew sturniolo #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagine #sturniolo imagine #mollys requests

[ventique18]

Book 7, Chapter 7, Episode 111

(MALLEUS APPEARS AGAINSD ASHJDD SADLSDLADSJKASD)

Ortho: "No way... Brother, do you really think that black haze is "Ortho"?"

Ortho: "No! You have to leave this place quickly! You can't get caught by that black haze!"

Ortho?: "Don't think of anything anymore. Iddy, you're just tired from too much gaming... You should get some sleep."

Idia starts falling asleep, but the real Ortho keeps shouting for him not to. But still, he falls asleep and gets transported into a dream within a dream...

Idia: "... Wha, I... Why am I in ceremonial robes, in the courtyard?"

???: "Is that person over there Shroud?"

OH MY GOOOOOD HE'S HERE, HE'S HERE! IT'S IDIA'S CEREMONIAL ROBES VIGNETTE SDAIDIODSA AWOOGA AWOOGA

Malleus: "So it is Shroud indeed. ... What is it? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Idia: "Ma, Malleus... What are you doing here?"

Malleus: "What ever do you mean... Is the entrance ceremony not about to start very soon?"

Idia: "Eh? Entrance ceremony?"

Malleus: "Haha... You seem to be half-asleep. Much like our dorm's Silver.

"Hm? Wait. Hasn't the entrance ceremony, like, ended months ago..."

Malleus: What are you saying? You are to be housewarden today. It's your first entrance ceremony as one."

Idia: "Is... Is that right?"

MALLEUS IS GASLIGHTING IDIA OH MY GOD LOL

Malleus: "What an odd fellow you are. Well then, let us go to the Mirror Chamber together. It would be quit an improper decorum indeed for third year housewardens like us to be late."

Idia: "Why do I feel like I'm forgetting something important..."

Suddenly, something explodes from afar!

Idia: "A, a ball of light is floating in the sky... Is that, a meteorite?!"

Idia: "Wu-wuh, what the hell! Is it hurtling towards me? Is it?!"

THIS IS SENDING ME TO DEATH OMFG! HE HID BEHIND MALLEUS! I CAJKKLDASDS A IDIAAAAA DHISDASIOJKLASD

Malleus: "That thing... is something "I do not understand"."

Idia: "Wuh-what, what? How are you so calm?! We gotta run for it!"

Idia: "If that thing hits us, even you'll get K.O.'d in one hit!"

It keeps approaching them, so Idia tries to cast a magic barrier out of desperation. It doesn't do shit though and still causes another explosion.

"I hope the program that "erases all data in all devices in an emergency" works properly..!"

IDIA IS THIS REALLY THE RIGHT TIME TO HOPE YOUR BROWSING HISTORY GETS DELETED WHEN YOU DIE OH MY GOD.

"......... Uhm? I'm, I'm alive?"

???: "Soul Signal Tracking complete. Target acquired."

Ortho: "Thanks for waiting, big brother! I've come for you!"

Idia: "Eh?! Who r u?!"

He sees STYX's emblem on Ortho and asks if he's a brand new mecha suit made by his mom. But then he notices that the thing called him "big brother"...

Ortho: "I'll explain later. Stand down, big brother."

Ortho: "There's a scary guy glaring at us."

Malleus: "What is the meaning of this, Littler Shroud."

Malleus: "You are not supposed to exist in this dream. How did you get in here?"

Ortho: "Ahaha! Didn't you say it yourself, Mr. Malleus Draconia."

Ortho: "I'm like a ghost; just an intangible electronic data. Do ghosts need a reason to phase through space?"

Malleus: "Heh... Hahaha! I applaud you for surprising me twice."

Malleus: "However, the fact that you have intruded in my castle not once, but twice..."

Malleus: "IS PURE INSOLENCE. MECHANICAL DOLL!"

Malleus: "AWAY WITH YOU, FOOL!"

#same mechanic: you gotta survive for 5 turns #you can't damage him #twisted wonderland #ventique rambles #malleus draconia #idia shroud #ortho shroud #twst book 7 spoilers

[grandline-fics]

If you feel like it, could you write a law comfort fic? But where reader comforts him? Like cuddling him in bed when he’s having a bad day or something just babying him? That man deserves it 🥺

DESCRIPTION: Comforting him on a bad day

WARNINGS:  nothing too specific but angst to comfort

CHARACTERS: Law

WORDS: 598

A/N:  Thank you for the request, hope you like what I was able to come up with for this

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

———————

You recognise the signs a mile off because Law’s bad days don’t just appear, there’s a build up to the main event. First he’ll become quieter, withdrawing from the usual conversation with the crew; maybe he’d still offer a word or two but it’s more hollow, barely there. Then he’ll become restless, not even turning to his medical books will be enough to distract him but still he tries, reaching for a larger volume and leafs through it in growing agitation just searching for anything to grab at his mind for something to focus on. When that’s not enough he starts to pace the Polar Tang, going into every room in search for something believing that occupying his body might alleviate him instead. 

You can only watch him silently. You know by now that asking what’s wrong in the beginning stages will only lead to a stubborn declaration that he’s fine and an argument. So against your instinct to act you have to wait just a little longer. Thankfully the day the ship docks at a new island is the day you needed. Law remains in bed, lying on his stomach and one arm slung over his head that’s already facing away from you. When he hasn’t spent the night holding you close you know it’s finally time. You silently pad out of the room you shared with the Captain and took over the duties needed, ensuring all safety checks had been completed and that the others were prepared for all they could encounter on the new island. With a smile you tell the others that you and Law will stay on board and that the others could go and explore. Once they leave, your cheerful smile falls.

Law hasn’t moved a muscle when you return, just as you knew would be the case. It isn’t because he’s finally fallen asleep, you know he’s been awake a lot longer than you have. You’re silent when you climb into bed again, sitting up against the pillows and opening one of your books. Wordlessly you slip your free hand under his and gently nestle your fingers into his hair, slowly massaging into his scalp. You keep your eyes trained on the words in front of you. By the time you reach the end of the chapter you feel his fingers finally squeeze yours and he shifts. Slowly you lower your gaze to watch him roll over and meet your stare. 

“The crew gone?” His voice is low and flat. It pains you to hear his voice like this. You slowly turn his hand in yours, running your fingertips across his palm and wrist in random patterns and you nod. “So just us for the day?” You nod again and smile when he moves closer and hugs your waist, laying his head on your lap and moving your hand back to his head. “I’m sorry I’m like this.”

“Don’t apologise. I know today’s tough for you but I’m here.” You tell him, feeling him tense against you. Now that he’s finally a little more responsive you can address him properly and reassure him. “I’m not going anywhere Law. Whatever you need, it’s yours even if it’s just lying in silence.” Law stays where he is and as clouded as his mind is he can already tell that the darkness and weight has lifted slightly just by having you near. You’re his safety net and his warmth, always what he needs to make his worst days manageable. He can finally let his eyes slide closed and utter out a grateful “Thank you.”

#one piece #one piece imagines #one piece fic #one piece x you #one piece x reader #one piece scenario #one piece fanfiction #law x you #trafalgar law #law x reader #one piece law #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar law x you

[atzfilm]

— 『 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋; 𝐨𝐭8 』 [2] (M)

— 𝚠𝚘𝚗 • 𝚍𝚎𝚛 • 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕, adjective. having someone who serves as a pillar in your life, who offers a sturdy place to lean in times of trouble. somebody you find yourself thinking about constantly and are completely infatuated with.

❝humans were such strange creatures. wretched in their mere existence. none of the eight were ever truly interested in them until they found you. they just find. it strange that despite their status and rank, you'd rather spend time with your lover. that isn't much of a problem, though. one they can fix with ease.❞

〘ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ, ᴍʏᴛʜ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ꜰᴀᴇʀɪᴇꜱ〙(m.list)

— pairing: ot8 x reader, mxm (this chapter); wooyoung x reader, yunho x reader; 11.4k

— note: this is a yandere fic. sensitive topics such as manipulation, gaslighting, murder, and other topics involved with the genre. please heed the warnings and read this work of fiction while keeping this in mind.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: murder, manipulation, blood, torture references, dark magic, kidnapping, emotional turmoil, injuries, slight descriptions of gore

Desire is such a futile thing. Grasping at a fleeting fit of passion that will be over in just a few breaths. Yearning for a moment ever so brief, it was like it never even began. It only continues to ponder you as you stare at the book of forgotten history, tucked between an old Jane Eyre and newly found poetry. It's an odd place, but Soobin himself is odd. He thought that it would allow someone to find a new interest – resting unlike books next to one another. You yourself didn't even know the book existed until you stumbled upon it. Your fingers glide along the pages, many dog-eared. A part of you hopes that whenever Soobin comes back he could tell you why he noted these particular pages. If he ever does, that is. The lump in your throat continues. You flip a page with hopes to distract yourself.

The multitude of Fae folk is still unknown. Ranging from the dozens to hundreds, not one researcher agrees on how many exactly exist, or if they truly exist at all. But what we all know is that it begins with disappearances.

Until a town is drained dry.

You close the book, the familiar chill creeping up again. The store is closed now and you've checked twice to make sure it's empty. There is no real reason why you feel fear. But you're not one to ignore it. You tuck the book away, locking up the front gates to the store and exiting promptly, the apartment above the store left abandoned.

It has been over a month now since Soobin has disappeared. You've been interviewed by the local sheriff's department for your involvement and your plea for innocence was believed. No one could say nor prove it was your fault that Soobin suddenly vanished. Nothing tied you to it. Even the townsfolk, as bitter as they may be that you weren't the one to leave, told the police that you were at various stores in town when he was no longer around. You could only thank them. Perhaps your reputation isn't as heinous as you once thought.

Contacting his family was your biggest fear. His parents told you that Soobin called at the time, explaining he needed time away then never called again. They aren't as worried as you, apologizing for the way he broke up with you. Neither of you understand why he just left. It's not like him. He fights tooth and nail and never just leaves. Foul play has been ruled out but you just can't wrap your head around it. The two of you loved one another. Giving up that easily… Do you even know the real Choi Soobin?

Have you ever?

"Haven't I told you not to walk home alone?"

Seonghwa appears next to you as he always does. Hands tucked in his sleek trench coat, the same friendly smile on his lips. His strange appearance is nothing new. A few times a week he seemingly conjures up on empty streets and sidewalks to walk you home. Only another check on your list of him not being human. He never threatened you nor persuaded you with anything nefarious as of yet, but his presence still brought fear. One day the visits wouldn't be so meaningless. One day he won't be as kind.

"There's no one ever around for me to be scared, Hwa," you say. "Unless you want me to be afraid of you."

"You should be mindful. Not everyone is as they seem. You should know from experience."

Whether or not his words are a purposeful jab is frivolous, but they do sting. "Feels like a warning for me to stay away from you, Seonghwa."

He doesn't stop walking, his voice is softer this time. "I didn't mean it that way. You know that."

You do. Since you've met the mysterious man all he's done is stand up for you. Irritate the locals with his snarky remarks, enough so that many began to leave you alone. Sure, the lack of customers is quite severe at this moment, it was better than having to force a smile on your lips as they mentioned how Soobin ran the store better than you ever have. There's only so many strained smiles you could muster.

But trusting Seonghwa? The creature of the night who you are ninety-five percent sure is a Faerie? An Unseelie one at that? You can only hold back your scoff. What you have found about them is helpful. One of which you haven't tested yet – whether or not they could lie. Now is a prime opportunity. You glance at the man walking next to you, before speaking. Low ball questions first, before you can gradually ask the important ones.

"Do you think I'm doing well?" You ask.

His brow raises. "Change of subject?"

"A bit, but not really. I just… it's been a lot, being on my own now. I was self-sufficient before I met him and still am, but things are different. I wanted this dream with him. I wanted to struggle with him. Sometimes I wonder if all of this is worth it. If I should even wait for him."

"You are doing well," he murmurs. "As well as a human can under these circumstances."

Your chest begins to tighten at his words. The thought of proving yourself right is gone. The sincerity of his goes in one ear and out the other. Only one word you can focus on. One sticking out in the sentence, bile gathering at the back of your throat.

Human.

No one you've met in your entire life speaks of people that way. You struggle to hold your poker face. Pretend that nothing is wrong. You take a slow breath. "Thank you."

"It's not a problem. Ah, I must go now though, my family will be wondering where I am by now," he glances at his watch, before shooting you a small smile. "I will see you soon, y/n. Have a good rest."

He turns on his heels before you can say more, disappearing into the night. You hold your bag closer to yourself, steps quickening. You have little option left. You can't leave the town no matter how much you want to – that'll mean leaving the bookstore behind. A sound minded person would forget about it and just leave but you can't. Despite how disappointed you are for Soobin leaving you alone, you can't leave the store. It's silly, but you still care about him. It'll hurt you to see the store fall apart. You just hope he'll come back soon.

Maybe then he'll be able to tell you if you're being delusional or not.

-

"She knows." Seonghwa enters his home, frustration coating his features. "I fucked it up and now she knows."

"Told you~" Wooyoung's falsetto tone rings through the corridors. "I should have gone to her instead."

The glare Seonghwa sends him is enough for Wooyoung to drop his grin, exiting the room. Jongho and Yunho are the only other two in the room, both focused on reading. They're underdressed for this time of night; Seonghwa knows that Hongjoong planned another visit to the human world for food. And it's their turn to join them, though they look too involved in their own separate readings to even change out of their sleepwear. Yunho looks up from the writings.

"On a scale from Hongjoong tripping on a rock to Mingi setting fire to a village, how bad?"

Seonghwa sighs. "I said humans in front of her."

Jongho winces, "No coming back from that. What did you do after?"

"I panicked and left. Her heart rate picked up and her perspiration began coating her forehead. I thought I would be able to last longer–"

"She is quite intelligent. It wouldn't have taken her longer than another week to put the pieces together. You just sped up the process," Yunho murmurs. "But the question still remains: How do we explain this to everyone else?"

"We don't," Jongho closes his book softly, glancing between them. "Wooyoung is very likely running around our home right now telling every living soul what happened. We'll just have to deal with the repercussions. She knows now, which means that she will avoid you Seonghwa. And will very likely be wary of any new people hovering around her. It won't be as easy this time to convince her to come here."

"We keep her here then?" Yunho suggests.

"No…" Seonghwa stops pacing, thinking. "She trusts me. At least more than the rest of us. I can convince her to come here willingly."

"Can you?"

Seonghwa frowns. He's not too sure. He's broken it at this point. Struggling to mend it back together will just take too long. You'll slip right through their fingers. So despite how much he does not want to consider this choice, it's all he has. Perhaps the incessant little voice in the back of his head is correct.

"Wooyoung may be able to. I know we've avoided his particular methods, but there's little left to be done. The rest of us aren't as friendly as him, aside from Yunho. And you often avoid humans entirely because of your attachment issues."

Yunho frowns, "Thanks for pointing that out."

"Your decision has come too late," Another voice interrupts them, their gaze moving to the door. San leans on the threshold, cross arms against his chest. "The little turnip has already left our home. It's only a matter of time that he stumbles upon her path."

Their combined groans echo around the room.

-

Wooyoung sits on the edge of the stone fence, leg swinging. He can recall Seonghwa saying that he saw you meander by this path often, but it’s been several days now and Wooyoung himself hasn’t seen you once. Perhaps it was a different path? His fingers run along the stone, humming. Moss covers the gray now, the elements turning it into a darkened, brown color. He whispers into his fingers, pressing them back to the stone. His gaze softens when he sees the color slowly coming back.

“Humans,” he murmurs, scowling. A sweet smell fills his nose. He looks up from the rock, licking his lips. You stand at the end of the path, frozen in your spot. Your hands grip the straps of your bag. Eyes widened in fear. His match yours, but instead in glee, hopping off his spot. You don’t move – even as he slides down the hill, stopping just in front of you.

His hair is long and wavy, framing his cheeks. Kind eyes that seem to be without malice. But you’re not too sure of that. Faeries have a way of concealing their true intentions without much effort. He pushes strands away from his face, tucking it behind his ear. His wear is unusual – mossy green transparent attire adorning his slim frame, barefoot, though no sign of torn skin from the rough ground. You wrinkle your nose. Dwelling on odd observations won't pull you out of this situation.

“y/n. Seonghwa never told me you were easy on the eyes. It’ll be sadder for me to dance with you now,” he frowns, gaze flicking over your face. Dance?

He leans forward. “Your aura is bright. You remind me of a sunset.”

You try and pretend the familiar name does not phase you. It's difficult – you've suspected endlessly that Seonghwa is a faerie and his words are merely confirmation. So maybe this is a friend of his, or family? Either way it doesn't matter to you. Sticking around is the last thing you want.

“I have to be somewhere,” you say through tight lips. He shrugs, taking another step toward you. Panic settles in your chest. No one is around, no one would stop him even if they were. You're all alone in this. “Sir, pardon me–”

“Oh!” He grins, laughing. “Sir? Do not tease me, human. My name is Wooyoung. Ah wait, look at this my lux solaris.” He turns his hand over, palm facing you. You look away from it, a sigh echoing around you. “I won’t kill you, you know.”

“That doesn’t mean you won’t hurt me.” A quick thought crosses your mind: where’s Soobin when you need him? Just as the silly thought appears it's gone. Nowhere. Nowhere around here for all you know. You hate how your mind next moves to the kind Seonghwa. Would he do anything? Or will he only allow this to happen? And why are you depending so much on a man – no, faerie.

He purses his lips, “You know the way of the fae. Fine, I won’t hurt you or ensnare you or kill you in any way right now. Now look,” he nudges you slightly. You finally move your eyes down to his hand. Using his other hand, he drags his pointer finger across his palm. A bright yellow path follows it, disappearing off the edge of his palm. His eyes flick to yours, grin widening.

“It is solaris, like you.” he closes his fist, “I’ve practiced that trick for hundreds of years now, you know. It’s hard for humans to see the Will o’ the Wisp without falling prey. So you must be quite special."

You back away from him, "It was a trick?"

"No, because I can't lie as you know," he rolls his eyes. "I just knew you wouldn't fall underneath the spell because we have tried it already on you, silly."

…

"Excuse me?"

"You are resistant to our will, solaris. And none of us quite know why. I'm here to pretend to woo you and guide you back to our home to do testing. By any means necessary. And if my surly words don't work, I'll do it by force."

Everything he says confuses you more and more. "Why would you tell me you're to lure me?"

His smile slips. "What would you rather me do, lie? You know yourself that Unseelie cannot lie. So why shall I tread around the truth?"

"Will Seonghwa be there?"

He rolls his eyes. "Of course. He needs to be there so he can see that my method works much better than he has ever done or ever will."

"... Is there any way for me to get out of this?"

He pouts, shaking his head. "Of course not."

Debating on running would be also silly then. He lets you ponder, folded hands resting behind him as he paces. You look back at the path. Just as you're about to turn, Wooyoung appears by your side. His sudden presence makes you stumble, falling back to the sidewalk. He sighs, watching as you gather your things and stand again.

"Running would be useless. I can just make you come with me solaris. But I want to make this easy."

"Kidnapping someone is never easy," you murmur between tight lips. Why did you ever decide to enter this town? It seems like every signal mythical creature around is appearing. It wouldn't shock you if Soobin suddenly appeared, explaining his disappearance is due to him being a merman. The thought makes you snort.

Wooyoung grins. "Now you understand! Let's go!" He touches your elbow lightly, and before you can shove him off, an uneasy feeling settles over you. It grips your skin, painfully pulling against the surface before your surroundings change. You can barely breathe, falling to the grass beneath you. The sidewalk from before is gone, replaced with thickened underbrush and endless woods. You swallow, mouth dry.

"Hm," he bends down, eyes roaming over you once. "Perhaps Hongjoong was right when he told me humans couldn't demanifest."

"You're sick," you manage to speak, coughing. Your body slowly begins to feel like your own, trembles cascading through you. Wooyoung does nothing to help, looking you over as you finally bring yourself back to the reality in front of you. It's difficult to stand but you manage. Your bag is gone, probably somewhere between the split of reality he just dragged you through. "Never do that again."

"I won't. Demanifestation seemed to have done a number on you and I apologize for that. But it appears that a part of you was left behind."

You immediately touch your body. Your clothes are intact, fingers touching your hair. You look at him in confusion, his wicked smile stretching across his cheeks. The breath that comes out feels louder than before.

"You tricked me."

"No," his brows furrow. "Your bag. It's still back on the sidewalk. But your town is … well, I'm sure it will remain in the same place."

There's no reason to reply, steadying yourself. You look around, the forest too dense for you to see any opening. Whether you like it or not, you're stuck with the faerie. He knows it as well.

"We're done after this?"

He doesn't say a word.

—

“Our home is quite simple since we live in the middle of the Rowan trees. We have to make sure it’s hidden enough from both humans and other faeries,” he explains. You notice how light his steps are, as if he is floating over bricks, barely making an imprint in the dirt. Unlike yourself – stumbling ungracefully over rocks and forestry, trying your best to stabilize yourself. Wooyoung doesn’t point out your lack of coordination, still speaking about the grandeur of a house that’s … the opposite? You're not too sure on the nuances.

“There’s no need to worry,” he says after a moment, stopping just in front of you. "I'm not bringing you to your death."

"You vaporized me and transported me to the middle of a forest, and shortly after told me you didn't realize it would bother me. So I'm sorry if I don't exactly trust anything you say to me."

"It's true," he whines. You stare at him strangely. He has to be much older than you – Unseelie live to unfathomable ages from what you've read. They're conniving and humorous to capture you but after, ruthless and unforgiving. Now that Wooyoung has you, you can't see why he's still acting so silly. Humorous even. You might even enjoy his company if you weren't in the situation you are right now.

"Okay," you murmur.

He holds out his hand. Fear curls in you as you take his. His skin is warm, fingers entwining in yours with ease. He stares ahead, humming. "Humans can't see our home since we're quite close to neighborhoods. Hold onto me until we pass the threshold, alright? And don't let go until I tell you. It'll feel as if your body is being torn apart if you don't pass through properly. Do you understand?" There isn't any teasing like before, eyes focused. You nod, and he matches you. With his free hand, he holds it out.

The air seems to shimmer and bend beneath his fingertips, twisting reality. Just as quick as he does it, your surroundings change. What was once endless forest is now a large structure in the middle of overgrown trees. The home looks pristine despite its surroundings, vines covering and growing into the brickface. It looks to be three floors, a wrap around porch, all of the windows and doors ajar. Wooyoung lets out a sigh of relief. His fingers begin to slip from yours. Your own grip tightens and he furrows his brows, confused.

“Hm?” His lips part, recognition. “Ah, I’ve pulled you through the fabric of reality already, solaris. You can let go whenever you like. Though I don’t mind continuing to hold you.”

You let go, his laugh echoing through the forest. Without pause he walks toward the home, not bothering to turn and see if you’d follow. You do, of course. There’s no reason for you to try and run away now, you’re deep enough in the woods that you’d lose your sense of direction and end up lost. The smell of something sweet glides through the low breeze. Cinnamon-like. Wooyoung enters through the front doors, glancing around before turning down a hallway.

“No one’s around,” he murmurs, glancing back at you. “Seonghwa should be here soon though, he’s not out with the others.”

You pass by an open kitchen. Everything is neat and tidy, table set with lavish flatware and utensils. As you squint, you’re sure it’s made out of some type of gemstone. He continues down the hall.

“He’ll be going to his library first, so we should wait there.”

You stick closer to him now, carefully maneuvering so that your shoes don’t stumble over loose vines moving in and out of the hardwood. The doors down this hallway are closed, locks hanging from the knobs. You don’t say a word but he seems to notice your expression, grinning.

“Unseelie are quite forgetful when it comes to locks. We’ve locked ourselves out enough from places around here that we thought it best to just leave the keys in the knob.”

“None of you are afraid of an intruder?”

He chuckles, “No one would dare enter without our permission, solaris. That’s just a death wish.”

He opens the doors at the end of the hall, beckoning you inside and closing the door behind the two of you. The room is enormous, stories high shelving, endless literature surrounding you. Some titles you recognize from your own bookstore, others unfamiliar. There’s a lot in languages you cannot begin to understand or recognize. It seems endless as your eyes roam. Your stomach twists. Soobin would have loved to see this for himself.

“Ah, he must have cleaned up,” Wooyoung murmurs. “Wonder if he saw the mess Jongho left.”

You walk around slowly, careful not to disturb anything. “How many of you live here?”

“Why? Want a room?” Wooyoung sits on the edge of a table, legs swinging. “I don’t mind it.”

“Just want to know what I’m dealing with,” you frown.

“Hm,” he stretches his fingers, counting beneath his breath, “One, two… Eight. Including me.”

Eight Unseelies. And that's just the amount that live near your home. You can only imagine how many roam the streets, disguised as humans. Dwelling among you. You called the townspeople silly for believing in such superstitions. Now they would just laugh in your face if they knew the truth.

"The people missing…?" You trail off.

Wooyoung doesn't respond to your inquiry. He's moved towards a desk, flipping through the pages in silence. You almost repeat it until he turns to you, eyes flicking between yours.

"We simply ask for a dance. It's their decision on whether they'd like to take our hand. You are your own maker. It's more fun that way.”

A chill passes over you.

He balances a flask between his fingers, humming an unfamiliar tune. Allowing him to drag you through the forbidden Rowan trees into their home is not exactly what you planned, but is there any other choice? Figuring out what he is, what they are, is another point added to your list. There’s just no plan after it. So what if they’re Unseelie? The townsfolk would rather sacrifice you than their own family members. And you can’t blame them. They’ve already blamed the disappearances on you. This will only be something else added to their endless list of hating you.

"You scare me."

Wooyoung looks at you, eyes seemingly somewhere else entirely. "A wise choice."

The door slides open, familiar hands gripping the panel before sliding it back. His eyes slide over to Wooyoung, before looking at you. He lets out the loudest sound you’ve heard from him, groans bouncing against the walls. It’s a bit surprising to see him in such fancy wear, close to what he wore when you first met. His fingers gently rub his temples, obscenities mumbled under his breath.

“You’re just getting worse by every moment,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “If I were Hongjoong you would have been thrown to the Seelie by now.”

“You wouldn’t!” Wooyoung gasps. It’s very much exaggerated, eyes wide. The moment that just passed between the two of you long gone.

“I would. Fortunate for you that I cannot,” he barely glances at you. “You’d follow a stranger into the woods? Have you not listened to any of the words I’ve said?” His tone is harsher than before, formerly kind eyes filled with mire. It was quite silly of you to think that for a second he actually did enjoy your presence. Unseelie are the way they are. He is no different than the rest.

“I had no choice, he threatened the town.”

Seonghwa rolls his eyes, “Of course he did. Why do you even care for a town that doesn’t care for you?”

“Why am I even here?” you say. Seonghwa does not bother to reply to you, fingers gracing one of the leather bound books. He walks past the two of you, lounging in the chair in the farthest corner.

“Hello?”

“Seonghwa wants to experiment on you,” Wooyoung shrugs. “Each attempt that he’s tried to use his abilities on you has faltered. It’s like you’re immune to it. That’s why he’s been spending so much time with you, learning the way you work, your habits and schedules. To see if there’s some explanation for your resistance. Unfortunately he hasn’t found a lead yet. So, I decided to bring you here to see if any of the others can penetrate that strong will of yours, and for him to continue to conduct his research.”

"You're joking."

Wooyoung shakes his head. "Not in the slightest."

You grab your bag, ignoring the pleading eyes Wooyoung attempts to send you. He steps in your way and you only slide beneath his outstretched arms, leaving the room all together. Wooyoung turns around to catch Seonghwa's gaze, pout burned into his lips. Said man still doesn't look up from his book. Of course, Wooyoung could have stopped you if he truly wanted to. An Unseelie versus a human is an easy match. But his mate likes the theatrics of it all, so Seonghwa sinks further into his seat, frames resting on the tip of his nose. It's for show – none of the Unseelie have bad eyesight.

Wooyoung slumps over, knees hitting the mossy floors. "Hyung, please," he whines.

"Typical Wooyoung. Only respecting me when he needs something," Seonghwa murmurs, flipping a page. "Go after her, I'm not your babysitter. Preferably sooner rather than later, unless you want Jongho or Mingi to stumble across a human in our home."

"You're supposed to help me."

"Your mess, not mine," he points out. "Why do you expect me to clean it up? Do it yourself."

"What will you do if they think she's food?"

Seonghwa shrugs. “They know who she is already.”

"Your experiment!"

Seonghwa pauses in his reading for a moment, looking up. He does want to see what exactly is different about you. A clan member taking your life before it happens isn't what he wants. But he's grown tired of fixing things that aren't his problem. Especially one as monumental as this. He gets up, pushing past his grinning mate and exiting the room. It isn't hard to trace your tracks, your heartbeat louder than anyone else's in this home. He just hopes that he gets to you first.

—

Walking through the home is easy and straightforward. You don't bother glancing to the side, previously closed doors ajar casting fear in your heart. Wooyoung so easily lets his words flow, telling you that Seonghwa planned on experimenting, perhaps even dissecting you. All of it is too much, too soon. Too overwhelming for you to comprehend without losing your mind. You step out the front doors, suddenly stopping.

Wooyoung warned you of stepping through without holding his hand. Is that danger gone, or do you still have to worry? Are you forced to stay here against your will?

You should never have gone to that silly bonfire.

"You'll die if you leave without our permission."

You turn, Seonghwa standing there. His hands are tucked in the pocket of his cardigan, glancing over your shoulder. "We never leave it open. A few more yards and you'd be vaporized."

"Wouldn't you enjoy that?"

His lip quips, "Wooyoung told you that I wanted to experiment on you. It would be difficult to achieve that if you're only dust in the wind."

The change of personalities is still difficult to grasp.

"Then what do you propose?" You say.

"Stay longer. I'll let you go after I've tried a few things. None of it involves seriously injuring you. It's just blood sampling and majik tests. Should be no more than an hour. Once that is complete I will do further tests, but that will be in a few days."

"... and then you will let me go?"

He nods, "I have no reason for you to stay. You're not a real burden to us since no other faeries are around. As of now you’re no threat."

The alarms are blaring in your head as you stare at him, fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. His words aren't enough to convince you, but you have little choice. You need one of them to help you leave. And you're positive they wouldn't until you let Seonghwa do whatever he needs to test and see why you're resistant to them. There's nothing else to debate or dwell on. The front porch creaks, Wooyoung leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. The same smug look on his face.

–

"Pretty," Yunho whispers to himself, sitting on the edge of the roof. He leans forward, dust and leaves from the tiles cascading down to the ground. It's as if in slow motion, your gaze flicking to the fallen leaves. Surprisingly, you don't look up to see where they've come from. Instead, you catch one between your fingers. Examining it for a brief moment you tuck it in your pocket, following Seonghwa into their home. Yunho almost slips as he follows your movements, flustered. He sighs, pressing his hands against his cheeks. They're quite warm despite the drop in degrees tonight.

Too pretty, he thinks. Humans aren't this pretty. The others said you weren't a faerie, but were you something else? He lets his thoughts linger, until the loud stomping of Mingi's feet distract him. He glances back, his friend sitting to the right of him. His clothing is freshly pressed. No evidence of tonight's events covering him.

"You're getting distracted already," Mingi points out, the front door closing behind you and Seonghwa. "This isn't something to attach yourself to, Yunho. An experiment and nothing else."

Yunho rolls his eyes, "I know I know, and I'm not getting distracted. She's just a human." He narrows his eyes. Right.

You're just a human.

—

"Arm."

Wooyoung’s eyes widen as he stands there, almost perturbed at the thought. “Pardon?”

Seonghwa rolls his eyes, “I need a baseline for the testing. Having your blood is necessary to see the differences and compare.”

“I don’t want to be used in your experiments on her!” Wooyoung’s voice rises, glancing at you. “Sorry.”

“No need,” you shrug. Your arm is wrapped, Seonghwa already pricked you with the small needle. Bottles of your blood sit on the side, labeled with symbols you recognize from Unseelie literature scattered about. He didn’t say anything to you as he took it from you, passed you a sugary drink and a cookie. It would have been endearing if he didn’t look so frustrated while doing it. You debated on calling him out at the look but again, you’d rather not irritate a being you know nothing of. The Seonghwa you’ve met is gone. Replaced with this angry and quite bitter Unseelie.

“Why do you make everything so difficult,” Seonghwa rubs his forehead. “Why are you even standing there if you’re not willing to help-”

“I’ll volunteer.”

Another voice enters the conversation, your gaze moving to the man who just entered the room. He’s taller than Seonghwa, quite tall actually. His face is kind, brown eyes filled with glee as they look at you. Unlike Wooyoung’s teasing which seems a bit unnerving at times, his look is easy. As if his lips naturally sit in a small smile. He lifts his sleeve, stepping around Wooyoung.

“Nice to finally see the shining star. I’m Yunho,” he holds out his hand and you take it. You can’t help but notice how despite how you always insisted that your hands are pretty big, he just engulfs yours.

“Hi. I’m y/n.”

He laughs softly, “That I know.”

Wooyoung’s voice rises. “Wait-”

“We don’t have time for the back and forth with you,” Seonghwa murmurs, beckoning Yunho closer. “Next time just say you’re okay with it and move on.”

Wooyoung’s frown only seems to deepen. He huffs, glancing between all of you before exiting the room. The door slams quite loudly, unable to stop yourself from flinching.

“It’ll be quick, you already know what to do,” Seonghwa says. Without another word he slides the needle into Yunho’s skin. You notice that his blood is clear, a thicker consistency than yours. Seonghwa pulls out several vials of it, the silence growing. Just as quick as he began it’s over. He grabs the vials, glancing between the two of you. “I’ll be back in a moment, talk amongst yourselves.” He walks off, murmuring something about refrigeration.

Yunho’s gaze easily slides over to yours. “I’m sorry about Wooyoung. He gets a bit antsy when it comes to things like this. We are wary of sharing their blood.”

“Can I ask why?”

He nods. “You might know a bit about us already from interacting, but when it comes to our essence it is sacred. Faeries are sensitive to blood exchanges because it is only something you do with a fae you are mated to. The majority of us would never willingly give up our blood for something like this. That’s why Seonghwa didn’t offer himself, and why Wooyoung was so flabbergasted at the thought of your blood mixing with his. It’s a quite sensitive topic.”

“And yet…” You trail off. And yet you did it without a second thought.

“Mhm,” he agrees, still staring at you. “The others think you’re special. So I would love to have the honor to be the baseline for the experimentation,” he chuckles, sliding his sleeve back down. “Seonghwa isn’t coming back, by the way. He’s told me to guide you out the forest and back to your home.”

Trying to decipher the wording is too much for your tired mind to comprehend right now.

“Demanifestation again?” Your stomach lurches at the thought. You’re not sure you’d survive it a second time.

Yunho shakes his head quickly. “Never. Wooyoung is a fool to have done that to you. We’ll be traveling on foot. Your home isn’t too far away from where we reside. I just need to help you through the barrier.”

You agree, standing slowly. Yunho reaches out his arm and you take it, thanking him softly. The hallways are quiet as you walk through, glancing at him. You can see his gaze glued to one of the doors you pass by, giving you a quick smile as he picks up the pace. You exit their home, and he does the same as Wooyoung did. The forest warps, the home disappearing behind you.

“You can continue to walk straight. The forest will guide you home,” he says softly, bowing. “I wish I could accompany you, but some Unseelie has been making a bit of a mess in our home and I need to fix it before Hongjoong comes.”

Hongjoong. You’ve heard the name a few times. Enough so that you can guess he’s their leader of sorts. But you’ve involved yourself enough. “Thanks for helping me. Straight you said?”

He nods, “Straight. See you soon, y/n.” He turns on his heels, dissipating into the forest. You can only imagine what the town would say if you told them of this encounter. Staring at the spot he once was, you turn back around, walking straight.

-

Yunho winces at the noise, shutting the front door. All of the doors of the home are open, various items thrown carelessly on the hardwood floor. He notices that the door to the library is shut. Seonghwa has had enough of it, it appears. Yunho does not blame him in the slightest. He steps over the broken vases and torn books, head aching already.

“What an incompetent Unseelie. Thriving in chaos does not mean we want it all over our floors,” Seonghwa’s voice echoes through the hallway. Ah, perhaps he is trying to deal with it now?

Yunho steps around the corner, entering Wooyoung’s room. It’s in a dire state, clothing and potion spilled, sheets ripped in half. Just as Yunho steps through the threshold, he’s thrown against the wall. Wooyoung’s hand wraps around his neck, his claw digging into Yunho’s skin. It doesn’t hurt, no, but it is a bit uncomfortable.

“What’s the reason?” he says through struggling breaths. He pulls his hand off with ease, coughing. “Shit.”

“You are always there, always stealing things from me. Could you not rest? Why in every lifetime do you have to take her away from me?” His voice cracks at the end. Yunho’s brow furrows at his words, confusion mounting. “It is always you, everytime. You always ruin my fun.”

“You’re acting like a child because I willingly exchanged blood with the human?” Yunho scoffs. “You shouldn’t have made it such a pressing issue if you wanted to do it.”

“You…” Wooyoung points his hand at him, slowly dropping it. “Give me a chance this time. Don’t steal her from me again.”

“We’ve just met this woman, Wooyoung,” Yunho says. “She is not anyone else.”

His eyes narrow, “You know what I mean.”

The front door slams loudly. Yunho closes his eyes, knowing his headache will only grow once Hongjoong enters the room. He looks at Wooyoung, blinding slowly. “You can do whatever you want with her, I don’t care. The blood exchange is complete now. You’ll have to find another way to bond with her. Figure it out yourself,” he steps out the way, feeling the wrath of his leader just behind him. Hongjoong gives him a look and he does not bother saying anything else, leaving the room.

The door cracks against the frame as it shuts.

--

It’s been a few days since you’ve heard from the Unseelie. You’ve been on edge all the while, tensing everytime the bell rings against the door. Only your fellow townsfolk have entered your shop now, picking up essentials and other things they need. The talk about Soobin has significantly decreased, much to your surprise. You expected for the talk to continue until the end of time. Or maybe they’re just not saying it to your face this time. You still look at your phone every time it rings, hoping to see an unknown number. You answer every time, waiting for the soft voice of Soobin on the opposite side. Instead it’s mostly robocalls. The sinking feeling has not gone away when it comes to him.

Why would he leave you?

The bell rings, and you barely glance at the door. You turn around to place a book on the shelf, dropping the one you have in your hand. He catches it with two fingers, holding it out to you. Taking a step back, you take it from him.

Wooyoung’s barely a foot in front of you, hands tucked in his pockets. He grins, brows wiggling. “Long time no see, solaris.”

He’s wearing casual clothing quite similar to Seonghwa’s wear. Instinctively, you glance down at his feet. He wears shoes this time. In fact, you’re sure you’ve seen Seonghwa wear the exact same outfit. He catches your eye, slipping from the aisle and standing in the middle of the store.

“You like?” he asks, spinning in a circle quickly. “I dressed Seonghwa in my clothes whenever he visited you. He only had those strange trench coats. Stuck out like a sore thumb.” He does the same, thumb in the air for emphasis.

You place your book on the shelf, not sure what to say to him. “Didn’t expect to see you,” you admit. “I thought Yunho or Seonghwa would come around again.”

“Seonghwa won’t dare enter human owned land again after his brief experience,” Wooyoung says. “He hates it. And Yunho isn’t really permitted to leave our land unless he’s given explicit permission. Me on the other hand,” he tilts his head. “I allow myself to enter whenever and wherever I’d like.”

They seem more restricted than you previously thought, minus Wooyoung. How he’s roaming around while - even as briefly as you’ve met him - Yunho not being able to, is a bit strange. The difference in temperament is noticeable. You saw how Seonghwa physically relaxed while taking blood from Yunho. The friendly giant feels more human-like than Wooyoung ever did.

“Why are you here?” You ask, pushing your cart into the next aisle. “Does Seonghwa need me for something?”

“Can’t I just come and visit you, solaris? Is that such a crazy idea?”

“Crazy no. Weird, yes.” You glance at him, eye twitching when you see his leg resting on the loveseat. “You act like you haven’t been around us in thousands of years. I can’t see why you’d want to hang out in a bookstore when there’s so many places in town to go to.”

“The bookstore is the only place that has the sun,” he shrugs.

“You say even stranger things,” you murmur. “And would you stop calling me that?”

“No,” he says immediately.

All you can do is sigh, continuing to place books on your shelves. Wooyoung interrupts you every now and then, either poking fun at you, or telling you another fact about them. Apparently, they’re the only group of Unseelie in town. Unseelie are rare in the faerie species, most eradicated by Seelie. He states the fact with a bit of a somber look in his eyes.

“There were thousands of us at one point,” he explains. “Then the Great War happened. Years ago, so far beyond your comprehension. So many of us fought to the death to survive. The hatred for each other runs quite deep. Most of the time when we stumble upon each other it ends in death. Now that our numbers have dropped so low - we’re not even sure how many of us are left now. Our species of faerie is dying.”

“Is that why Seonghwa is persistent in finding out why I am the way I am?” You ask, and he nods.

“If humans are developing resistance to our abilities, we will die. And not just Unseelie. Faeries as a whole thrive off of human auras. Having that removed from our societies will be detrimental. Mermaids, Seelie, Cave dwellers, Unseelie - so many of us will be gone. If there is a way to prevent that from happening we would do anything for it. But,” he shrugs. “None of us are majikians. Majik can only take us so far. Even if we find a cure, we’re in a new world. Humans will eventually discover us in masses. There will be a war, that I know of. Then Unseelie will be completely eradicated. We will be nothing.”

He twists his body to look at you. “That is why you are my solaris. My sun. You are capable of bringing us life and prosperity. You are also capable of destroying everything we have ever known. Right now you shine brightly. Let us hope that you continue to.”

“I didn’t know this was so important.” Is all that you say.

“Would you have if I didn’t just tell you?” his brow raises. “I’m not here to convince you either way. You would have to come with me whether you’d prefer it or not. It’s just nice to give you some background,” he gets up from his seat, moving around the shop. “It’s quaint here. Small town places always make me feel warm inside.”

The sudden shift of conversation is something you should get used to around them. “Soobin designed it that way. He’s been wanting this place for a while. It’s his home.”

“Soobin is your partner,” he states. Your back is turned, so you don’t see the shift in his expression. How terrifying it would be to see the ghost of a grin on his lips. “He’s not around anymore.”

You take his statements as questions. “Yeah, he is. Well, was. We had a disagreement and…” You stop in your talking. “You should know already, I’m sure Seonghwa told you about it.”

“He did, I just like hearing you talk. It’s much more soothing than his irritated, quick words everytime he speaks to me,” he murmurs. “Why aren’t you afraid?” he asks after a moment.

“Hm?”

“Before,” he slowly walks up to the opposite side of the counter, sitting on the stool. “You were afraid of me when I showed up. I heard your heart beating against your chest, but it’s silent now,” he raises a brow. “What changed?”

“You said I was in no danger with you,” you say, and he nods, waiting for you to continue. “I didn’t see a reason to continue to be scared, so …”

“That is perfect then,” he smiles, resting his head against his palm. “I’m glad you feel that way. I don’t want you to be afraid of me anymore-” He stops, turning around. This time your heart does rattle against your chest. His teasing is gone, sliding off the chair. The door swings open, bell ringing. You cannot see the door from where you are, the opposite side of the store covered by the wide shelves. Not skipping a beat, Wooyoung turns to you.

“Hide. Now.”

You immediately turn, heading to the back office. Despite how much you want to turn around and look, you don’t. You hear a loud crash, the sound echoing through you. Your back office door is open and you enter, shutting it and locking it behind you. There aren't many places to hide in this room, except for exiting the store through the door. Hearing Wooyoung’s words in your head, it wouldn’t be safe for you to just leave. But there’s people out there. It’s evening. Whatever is here wouldn’t attack out in the open, right? Taking the chance, you swing the door open.

The figure standing there is terrifying enough to make you halt your escape. Its claws grip your throat, pushing you back against the back wall as it enters. Wide, golden streaks dripped down its pale body, several limbs severed and dragging along the floor behind it. Its touch is cold, nails sinking into your skin. You can’t say a word even if you wanted to, fear unlike anything you’ve ever experienced sinking into you. Its mouth opens, rows of jagged teeth lining its jaw, stench horrid.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” it hisses. Its finger slips, ripping your skin even more. You cry, hands gripping the one on your neck. It leans forward. You cannot tell whether it’s looking at you or not, holes where eyes would usually be.

“This is what they were floundering over. This is what the Unseelie are concerned about,” It spat, “Weak just like the other filthy humans.”

Its mouth stretches, the hole large enough to swallow you whole. Tears roll down your cheeks. You feel its spit drip against your forehead. Just as you have accepted your fate, you’re thrown out of the creature’s hand, body slammed against the floors.

“Repulsive.” Yunho holds the creature against the far wall, face twisted in disgust. The look is unfamiliar to you, already used to the warm gaze he shot you. He grips its neck, twisting it harshly to the side. The sound of bone and flesh being torn apart fills the air. It’s enough to make you look away. The distraction is gone, pain increasing rapidly as you look down at your injuries.

“Yunho shouldn’t be here,” Another voice appears. Seonghwa looks around the room, eyes immediately roaming over your figure. “Hell.” His body is soaked in what you can only assume is blood, immediately crouching down over you. “Think you can stand?”

You nod. You rest your hands on either side of your body, muscles straining to lift yourself up. Seonghwa merely sighs, reaching out an arm and pulling you up with ease. You stumble, pressing yourself against his chest. He doesn’t say anything more, lifting you into his arms. Your eyes roam behind him, Yunho’s face unrecognizable as he rips the being apart. Wooyoung must have entered without your knowledge, pulling his friend off the creature.

“Relax Yunho – it’s in ruins now. You don’t have to continue.” He pulls on Yunho’s arm again, this time thrown back against the floor at his attempt. Yunho does not bother turning around, continuing to rip into the thing.

“Fuck off, Wooyoung.”

“Time to get Mingi,” he sighs, glancing back at you. His brows contort in worry, “Oh my solaris, it stole your shine.”

“Get him under control enough, Mingi should be arriving soon,” Seonghwa helps you through the door, easily carrying you. You notice townspeople walking, none bothering to glance your way. Too tired to question it, your body slumps in his arms.

“The Seelie almost tore you apart,” he starts, waiting for a car to pass before crossing the street. “Wooyoung called for us just in time. Ah, your neck,” he winces as he looks at it. He lifts a hand and lightly touches your skin, mumbling words underneath his breath. “That should seal it up enough. We’re almost there.”

Your mind is too clouded with the events to give him a response. He takes it in stride, stepping into the forest. You aren’t sure how long it has taken to get to their home, but you see the familiar woods, trees gathered around the house that sits in between. He says something to another in passing, stepping into the library and shutting the door behind him. Seonghwa places you in a seat.

His hand lightly touches your temple, exhaustion slowly fading away. You blink quickly, glancing around. The room is lined with glass, contents unknown. He turns around to grab a small case, finger dragging across the surface. Inside are several bandages and other first-aid kit items. You want to thank him but your mouth is dry. Only a small wheeze escapes your lips. He glances back at you, wiggling his pointer finger.

“It is a binding spell. No words can escape until I let it be so. The claws of that Seelie dug in deep. If you speak, it may only worsen your condition.”

He rests on one knee, humming to himself. The jar he has in his hand is written in unknown scripture. He picks up the ointment with two fingers, slowly brushing it against your skin. “This is toad puss. Disgusting name and scent, but it will seal your wound much quicker than ordinary human antibiotics. Ah,” he glances behind you. “Took you long enough to arrive.”

You cannot twist your neck, moreso out of fear of tearing your skin. Wooyoung appears beside Seonghwa, glancing over your wounds. “The Seelie almost shredded her. I looked around the bookstore as I cleaned up but there was no sign of any carvings. There’s nothing on her body either. I’m not sure why they came or how they found her. ”

“Us, silly,” Seonghwa rolls his eyes. He grabs the gauze, slowly wrapping it around your neck. “One of the Seelie found out that we knew of a human like her. They followed one of us, or both of us, and located where she resides. Though I don’t know for sure if they followed you today and or followed me weeks ago. It doesn’t matter, anyway. Her bookstore is compromised.”

“Then what do we do?” Wooyoung asks, eyes still on yours.

“We talk to Hongjoong.”

You can see how his body deflates immediately. “But –”

“He’ll be furious, yes, but we need to tell him that the Seelie are back. And what steps we take from there. Actually, I think I heard him rummaging around his room. After I get her fixed up, I’ll go speak to him. I’m sure he’s already listening in on our conversation anyway.”

Wooyoung doesn’t say anything else, but you can see how Seonghwa’s words weigh heavy on him. You wish you could speak up for yourself. Your mind is leaning towards yelling at them for putting you in this mess in the first place. Wooyoung leaves without another word, the tap of the door closing behind him.

“What a mess,” Seonghwa sighs. He looks at you, humming again. “You are probably furious right now, aren’t you?”

You nod, and he merely laughs.

"Well you might as well get used to it. No such thing as happy endings for demonic creatures like us. Unfortunately for you, you’re now associated," he rips off the gauze wrapping with his teeth, spitting flyaway pieces to the side. His fingers slowly lift your leg. His touch is soft in comparison to his words, glancing at your face for any signs of discomfort. Not seeing one, he continues. "We Unseelie exist to balance the universe. We are not inherently evil, no. But our mere presence is distasteful, disastrous. We cannot feed without hurting humans, we cannot survive without interfering in your lives. We breathe chaos. It is all we've known and all we'll ever know – oh, did that hurt?" His voice is soft for a brief moment, seeing your brow furrow at his pressure. "Tight?"

You don’t say anything. His eyes widen for a moment, fingers brushing against a sliver of skin peeking out from the bandages on your neck. “Apologies. I was wondering why you remained so quiet.”

Your voice escapes you, quite low. "I’m fine."

He narrows his eyes but continues, much slower this time. You're not sure where this conversation stems from, but you don't dare interrupt. It's the most any of them have spoken to you about their kind. "It's not like a human would understand that it's natural for us. We enjoy killing because it is in our nature. We cannot live without it. It's a shame, really. So many Unseelie have tried to pull away, tried to stop killing. But all attempts have failed. Each one has died in the process. It is like if humans decided to stop feeding on plants and meat and decided to eat air instead. It won't work. It's unsustainable."

"I understand."

He pauses. "No, you don't. Not really."

You clear your throat. "Who are we to tell you what to do? We've considered ourselves the top of the food chain for so long, we can't think of something stronger or faster or wiser than us. What am I to do? Kill off every faerie I see?"

He nods. "That's what many human hunters have done. What many have decided to do over centuries."

"But not me."

His eyes flick between yours, expression unreadable. You don't bother to fill the silence and neither does he, hooking the gauze together with a small metal clip. You think the conversation is over, until he speaks up again.

"You are a strange one. It is of no wonder so many of us admire you."

“What –”

"It is funny what humans think of us,” he interrupts, not allowing you to comment though you desperately want to. “There is no good versus evil. Despite how much we hate the rigidness of the Seelie, they are faeries just like us. But they are not innately good just as we are not innately evil. If the world was that simple, we would have been eradicated long ago," Seonghwa muses. "Us Unseelie value chaos, sacrifice. We fight for our positions when necessary, and enjoy power. Though we all dislike humans, perhaps hate in some cases, we do welcome you. Even if it is temporary. Just because we live in forestry hills does not mean our heads are filled with dirt."

"Do you like me then?"

He grins. "I enjoy you as an experiment if that would make you feel a bit better."

"Ecstatic," you murmur.

"Well you know we cannot lie, so it must give you some reprieve. Unfortunately for us, you can lie," his eyes narrow. "What is your ex-partner's name again? Soobin?"

You say nothing. Allowing him into your head, letting him question you – it is exactly what you should not do when meeting a faerie.

"Ignoring my words?"

"You should know why I am."

He narrows his gaze, "Filthy humans and their silly rules."

"They keep us safe."

"They ruin the fun we have,” he sighs. “I can’t have you back at that bookstore, or your home,” Seonghwa stands, fingers dragging through his hair. “It’s no longer safe for you. You’ll have to stay with us for now.”

You want to debate with him, want to say that you’d rather tough it out and deal with it on your own. But you cannot forget how utterly terrified you were when that Seelie attacked. How you froze. If they weren’t there, you would’ve been long gone by now. Your family would mourn your disappearance, desperate for answers that you wouldn’t have been able to give them. Perhaps wondered if you left with Soobin, wherever he went.

It’s not something you’d ever want.

“Okay.”

He nods. “Okay then.”

He stands, about to leave. "Seonghwa."

He turns around.

"Before, Wooyoung was telling me how you would never enter the human owned land again because you despised it. But you did today. Why is that?"

A strange look crosses his face. "Wooyoung told you such words?"

You nod. "He did."

A breathy laugh follows suit, "That seems like something he would do. I'll set up your temporary room and be back." Seonghwa doesn't say another word, exiting the room. His avoidance of the question only creates more confusion.

-

“You are all making a fuss for a human you don’t even know. Curiosity can only stretch so far. What else are you going to do? Sacrifice yourselves so that she can live? This is more than silly. It’s stupid.”

Hongjoong paces back and forth in the library, Seonghwa flipping through several documents to see if there is any solution to what’s happening now. If he can find some semblance of an answer, perhaps she wouldn’t have to stay at all. But as of now he has found nothing of consequence. Nothing to stop the Seelie from coming after you.

“If the Seelie are after her and want to kill her, then there’s something there. Why give up now?” Seonghwa says, barely looking up from his literature. “It doesn’t have to involve you if you don’t want it to. We can keep her away from this side of the house.”

“That’s not my point and you're more than the wiser to understand that."

“Then what is?”

“You are undermining me,” Hongjoong’s eyes narrow. “You all made me the leader of our spark. And it is my duty to protect us all from harm. Ever since this human has come around, things have been happening. You should have just killed it when you first stumbled across it. And now Yunho is all out of sorts and Mingi has to watch him. Seelie have emerged again. None of this is okay.”

Seonghwa merely rolls his eyes. “We are Unseelie, we’re trained for this.”

Hongjoong stops pacing, shaking his head. “We are very few in number, Seonghwa. We cannot risk our extinction. Not for a useless human. Once the news has spread that you three have killed Seelie, there will be war. There is only so much I can protect us from.”

“We can protect ourselves. And it is too late anyway,” Seonghwa says simply. “We killed the Seelie for a reason.”

“You could have let them kill her and we would have had this problem eradicated.”

“No.”

“Why not?” Hongjoong pauses. He stares at his friend, his mate. Seonghwa does not often express his care. Has not for a while. “Unless you care for it?”

Seonghwa frowns. “Stop suggesting silly things.”

“Say you don’t care for it and I’ll believe you.”

Seonghwa stares at him, desperate for the words to escape him. But his true nature prevents him from doing so. He can only hope that Hongjoong does not push the issue further. He’s already dealt with endless pestering today. He thought he'd at least get a bit of reprieve from Hongjoong. Instead he is only being scowled. It's no wonder he actively avoids his presence every chance he gets.

“Say it, Seonghwa.”

“Haven’t we all irked him enough today?” Yunho enters the room, Wooyoung close behind. Not seeing Mingi hanging around is a bit odd, but neither of them mention it. “Pestering him about this is a mute point. We all have to keep an eye on her for now. Until all of this is settled. Maybe we should pick up the talks tomorrow.”

Seonghwa grabs the book he has in his hand and leaves the room, Hongjoong exiting in the opposite direction. Yunho sighs softly, exhaustion riddling his body. He doesn’t acknowledge Wooyoung trailing behind him, lounging on the long sofa. Said Unseelie paces around his resting figure, picking at the skin by his nails.

“I’m not going to hurt her,” Yunho murmurs, one lid opening to look at his friend. “I’m okay now.”

Wooyoung sits in front of him, head pressed against his thigh. Yunho reaches down, fingers massaging Wooyoung’s scalp. It's a common routine. Anytime he's overwhelmed, Yunho hears the soft tapping of his knuckles against his bedroom door. Most times he needs the comfort of their bodies against one another's, breathes mingled in the low light. But this is one of those rare moments that Yunho isn't able to provide such a comfort. His mind is too consumed with thoughts unlike his own. And Wooyoung seems to know it as well, trembling underneath the scratch of Yunho's nails against his scalp.

He lets out a long breath, looking up at his mate. Yunho's eyes look heavy. Exhausted. “It is not her I am worried about right now, Yunho. I shouldn’t have called you.” Wooyoung starts.

“You only thought of the first person on your mind. It’s alright.”

“It should have been Mingi or Jongho first. We all know how these things affect you and I messed up again. Much, much worse than last time.”

Yunho's fingers pause in combing his hair. A horrid reminder. He swallows slowly, pushing those thoughts away.

“Wooyoung,” Yunho shakes his head. “You can’t continue to blame yourself. The past is the past.”

He closes his eyes, lower lip trembling. “You could have lost yourself completely. Yunho, Mingi had to injure you to stop you. I should know what to do when you’re like that, I should be able to stop you–”

"Your presence was enough."

He shakes his head. "The Seelie was barely recognizable. It was a pile of mashed flesh –"

“Hey, stop,” he pulls his fingers from his hair, resting on the bottom of his chin. His strength is barely used as he tilts his head up to look at him. “I’m fine. We’re fine. I can’t tell you to stop thinking about it because I know you and I know you will, but I’m okay, Woo. I’m fine. Please don't let those thoughts burden you. You could not pull me out of it, but it's not your fault. I listened to your call. I decided to come. I could have told one of the others first. It was my choice.”

  "Yun…"

"Mmm," He lets go of his chin, arms opening. Wooyoung wastes no time in sinking into his embrace, chest rising and falling calmly. "I'm okay."

“Are you sure?” His voice is softer this time. His fingers dig deeply into the fabric of his blouse. “Don’t lie to me.”

“Unseelie can’t lie.”

Wooyoung narrows his eyes, Yunho’s warm laugh echoing around the room. “Fine. I am okay, and I’m not lying to you.”

"Promise?" He's persistent, hands cupping Yunho's face. "Promise me?"

"I promise, pretty faerie."

Wooyoung hides himself in the sleeve of Yunho’s shirt. "You're trying to distract me."

"It seems to be working," Yunho teases.

They enjoy each other's silence, Wooyoung lifting his head up again. "I'm sorry for before. For getting angry at you like that. I just let my feelings overtake me and blew up. I'm sorry."

"Already forgiven."

"You shouldn't, though. I hurt you," Wooyoung's eyes roam Yunho's neck. Though he has already healed, the puncture marks of his claws are still scars against his skin. Wooyoung leans up, pressing his lips lightly against the risen skin, Yunho's body trembling beneath the touch. "I hurt you."

"You can't help it."

"But I didn't try to stop myself."

"The human brings out the worst in us, it seems."

Wooyoung laughs, the sound not at all reaching his eyes. He ponders for a moment. "I like her."

Yunho takes his words with hesitance. It's been very apparent since he's seen you that Wooyoung has grown a soft spot for you. Though he can't quite understand how it happened so quickly. The Unseelie has barely spent more than a day with you. "I know."

"I want her to like me too."

"Good luck with that."

He frowns. "She will like me, Yunho."

"I know. You're too easy to like, Wooyoung. She will eventually feel the same as you."

"You think?" he gives Yunho a toothy grin.

"I know."

—

You sit on the porch, staring out into the night. The breeze is quieter than before, whistling through the branches and leaves. The throbbing pain in your neck has subsided greatly. You can only thank Seonghwa silently, fingers brushing against the gauze tight on your neck. You can still see the way that Seelie looked at you, the ferocity in its eyes. How easily it could have snapped you in half if it truly wanted to. Have you brought this all upon yourself? Letting Seonghwa creep into your life? Was the loneliness too much to bear that you've attached yourself to the next person who was a bit kinder to you? You rub your eyes, chest rising and falling slowly.

"Pathetic," you mumble, tucking your knees close to your chest. Your desperation for a reason why Soobin left you alone led you here. Stuck in a house filled with mythical beings. None of which care for you. You should have just gone home once he disappeared. Maybe then you wouldn't be stuck here. The stinging feeling in your throat burns. You hold it back. You can't cry. Not here. Not around them.

"Thoughts fogging your mind so deeply that you didn't hear me knock?"

You look up, Wooyoung's head peeking out from the overhang on the porch. His hair is wild, flowing in the breeze. He takes your non answer as acceptance of his presence, dropping down from the roof to sit on the railing. He tilts his head as he stares down at you. "You look upset."

"I'm stuck in a place I don't know with people I don't know because creatures I don't know are attacking me for a reason I don't know. So yes, maybe I'm just a little upset about my circumstances."

"You do know why they attacked you," he points out. "They want you dead."

"Reassuring," you give him a half smile. "Thanks for that."

"I'm… I'm not trying to get on your bad side, solaris. I'm trying to make you like me. I want you to be comfortable around me."

"You shouldn't care how I feel about you, Wooyoung. You've already done your job luring me here. Now leave me alone."

His lips frown, sighing softly. "What else can I do to help?"

"Is it not enough that you've trapped me here? I would thank you for saving my life, but you all are the reason those things came after me. I would have lived normally without your meddling. Seonghwa should have…" He should have killed you and gotten it over with.

"You don't mean that." He looks at you with such a pitiful, worried look that for a moment, you believe in his concern. Believe that he actually is upset for you. But you know it's not at all true. You know it's another ploy to make you feel comforted by him, by them. And you're not foolish, no. Unseelie do not care for humans.

They never will.

"I do."

"Solaris–"

"And call me by my name, Wooyoung." You slowly stand up, ignoring his hand reaching out to steady you. "Now goodnight." You slowly limp towards the French doors, shutting them behind you. You stare into his eyes as you turn the lock, shutting the curtains.

#fic: wonderwall #wooyoung x reader #yunho x reader #seonghwa x reader #ateez x reader #briefly: #jongho x reader #hongjoong x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez angst #ateez fluff

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

Second Chance Sorcerer

Chapter 1

Summary: After surviving Mahito's Idle Transfiguration in the Shibuya Incident, Nanami finds himself in an unknown realm between life and death. Will he escape?

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Fem! reader

A/N: I can't believe I actually got around to writing this! *sobs*. I hope everyone does take the time to read it, and enjoys what I've created here. This will be a multi-chapter fic, quite different from the one-shots I've posted before. It was originally made with an OC, which can be read on my AO3 account, but all changes have been made to y/n here.

Thank you @actuallysaiyan for making the lovely title banner and for listening to me rant and giving me all the encouragement to finish this chapter. Everyone needs a cheerleader like you. 💜

Nanami masterlist | Chapter 2

“You’ve got it from here…Itadori kun.”

Those were the last words Nanami remembers saying before Mahito’s Idle Transfiguration fragmented his soul into smithereens. All he felt was pain, gut-wrenching pain as his soul collapsed and rearranged itself, piece after piece trying various combinations of alignment, trying to come back into some semblance of a whole, like chromosomes after being hit with a lethal dose of radiation.

His eyes squeeze shut, senses overloading as he prepares to meet whatever awaits him on the other side. Would it be a lovely afterlife like he’d hoped? Filled with long days on the beach, reading the backlog of books he’d been holding off on? Laying in the sun, no work, no obligations, just doing whatever he wanted to his heart’s content? He felt warmth against his chest, a bright light emanating from it, and for a split second, it felt like someone was calling out to him, a very familiar voice…

And all of a sudden it stops. With a thump, he crumples on something solid, his side colliding with the surface. Was this it? Was he in the afterlife? Nanami hesitantly opens his eyes and takes in his surroundings.

At first, it appears like he’s landed on a sidewalk that wound deeply into a very gloomy and derelict-looking city. He could make out buildings, traffic lights, and little shops tucked away in between these larger structures, all of them looking abandoned or in various states of disuse. Not exactly what he’d hoped for. Was this actually the Great Beyond? 

Nanami pushes himself to his feet, relieved when he realizes he’s not in pain anymore. Had Mahito sent him to a separate contained domain? He squints, trying to find his bearings. There was no sunlight wherever he was, but the street lamps were lit along the length of the sidewalk, casting shadows along the way. He cautiously looks around. The place looks strangely familiar…

He grasps his weapon, the blade having still been in his hand when Mahito touched him, and advances down the road. As he walks, he realizes with a jolt that wherever he is appears to be a phantom of his neighborhood. He recognized this road now, as he had frequented it so often. Up ahead was the grocery store he would go to every Saturday. And right opposite it, a little cafe he would sometimes wander into for their lovely croissants and artisan coffee. The more he walked, the more he started piecing together a map of this area, astonished at what he was seeing. This certainly couldn’t be a domain expansion. There was far too much detail resembling the real world and, although the place gave a foreboding aura, seemed to be unoccupied except for himself. 

He stops in the middle of the sidewalk, lowers his weapon, and tries to think. Logic was telling him Mahito had sent him somewhere, perhaps a sealed space, rather than kill him outright. But if that was the case, why was he healed? His entire left side which had been covered with fatal burns was gone, the skin healed over like new, his eye regenerated, hair grown back. His clothes and shoes had somehow been restored to their original condition, his glasses back to their position on his face. 

Things weren’t adding up. He continued to walk, then came upon a library he remembered passing by in the real world but had never really paid attention to before. Deciding this was as good a spot as any to glean information about his whereabouts, he enters, squinting through the darkness. Lines and lines of shelves stood neatly arranged in the building. Nanami walks between the rows, pausing in between sections for a brief moment before continuing his perusing. 

He rounds the corner, then quickly presses his back against a bookshelf as he senses an unusual energy signature fading away from him. So he wasn’t alone, and the thought wasn’t comforting. The energy didn’t match a human or a sorcerer, so he had to assume it was a special-grade curse. After his interactions with Jogo and Mahito, he didn’t know what to expect in terms of its abilities. He was tempted to escape but knew he had nowhere to go. If he was trapped in this domain what hope was there to escape this odd being he was sensing?

Raising the clothed blade with its polka dot pattern, he follows the energy steadily, not daring to breathe too loudly as he advances. It moves stealthily and silently, as though trying to elude him. This makes him immediately wary, sensing he could be getting lured into a trap. He follows at a distance, then stops as he comes to a reading section, the area cleared out and decorated with little chairs, poufs, and tables. Struggling to see in the dim light, he moves into the open, instincts screaming that he’s making a mistake. He pauses, trying to sense the energy again.

“It’s rude to chase one with a weapon you know.” A voice says from directly behind him. Nanami startles and spins around to face his pursuant, arms immediately coming before him to block an impending attack. Upon seeing the sight before him, his gaze fills with both fear and wonder, the being in front of him a vision of amazement. 

All he sees at first are a pair of piercing silver eyes that seem to probe the very depths of his soul. There’s a quiet insightfulness to them like he was looking into the eyes of an old friend, yet an unsettling intensity that made him feel apprehensive. The being appeared to lack a shape, but as Nanami took another step back, the light from the street lamps showed it to be made of wisps of black shadowy mist, neither fluid nor gas, swirling endlessly around it. 

Something within him tells him he shouldn’t fear this creature, yet all instincts were telling him to charge the attack before it got to him first. They stood, staring at each other through the dimness, before Nanami gathered his courage and asked, “What are you? A curse?”

The being huffs, as if it was an impertinent question. “What am I…Who am I…The question has been asked for centuries. Yet, even I do not have an appropriate answer…But I am most definitely not a curse.”

It glides silently over the floor, and Nanami instinctively raises his weapon. The being appears to look amused, based on the way those intense silver eyes glowed. “Put away your blade, Nanami Kento. The things I could have done to you once you entered my realm can’t be defended against by you, or even a special-grade sorcerer for that matter. I doubt even Ryomen Sukuna would stand a chance against me.” The smoky form billows, ebbing and flowing as it circles him. 

Not entirely reassured, Nanami puts his weapon back in the holder of his suspenders. There’s an odd feeling of reverence despite the eerie nature of the being. 

“I am what they call The Mediator, The One Before Death, or The Spectator.” It answers his question. 

“And where am I?” Nanami asks the shadow. 

“You are in between worlds, Nanami Kento.”

“In between worlds?” The blonde man repeated skeptically. Did such a thing exist? He had never given death much thought (beyond the dying part), and always assumed it was like being asleep one moment and waking up in paradise the next. To be in between worlds…had Mahito somehow just locked him away in another dimension that was a bleak version of his neighborhood? 

“So…am I…alive? But in another dimension?”

The Mediator looked at him thoughtfully, as though wondering how best to explain to him. “You are alive for now. But you definitely died, otherwise you wouldn’t have ended up here in my realm.”

“I died, and came back to life?” The sorcerer frowned at the obscureness with which this said. “That makes no sense. People don’t just arbitrarily resurrect from the dead. I was severely weakened. My soul was unprotected. Mahito’s attack should have killed me.”

“It did. However, something at that moment reversed the attack and restored the various fragments your soul had shattered into.”

Disbelievingly, Nanami started running his hands over his torso as though trying to find evidence that he had died. It was just…fantastical…impossible…He had survived Mahito’s attack? What divine intervention could have possibly saved him from something so deadly? As his fingers near his wrist, they brush over a small chain, hidden under the cuff of his shirt. He quickly undoes the button and looks incredulously at the small charm, an Aum symbol, dangling from the chain. 

“Y/n…” he murmurs her name softly. His apprentice. He now remembers her fastening one of these to not just him but to Ino and Itadori as well before they were deployed to Shibuya. 

“That’s probably what saved you,” the being said evidently, interrupting Nanami’s thoughts. “Whatever that is, it was imbued with a heavy concentration of neutralized curse energy. So when you died from the attack, that charm activated and repaired your soul.”

Nanami absently fingered the charm, trying to think. Y/n’s ability to neutralize cursed energy had improved immensely under his tutelage, he knew that, but he hadn’t imagined it to this extent. Her other ability included being able to manipulate any cursed energy she neutralized into forms of heat, summoning flames on her palms that towered at least  20 feet tall. How she had imbued the energy into the charm was anyone’s guess. 

“And I’m in between worlds.” He repeats again, trying to make sure he’s not misunderstanding the conversation.

“Indeed. Think of this as your own personal purgatory.” Those silver eyes bore into him like moons against a black sky, waiting to see his reaction.

Purgatory. Nanami pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose, unable to fathom how insane this sounded. “I thought purgatory was for people who needed to be redeemed.”

“It is usually. But in your case, it looks like the veil partitioning the worlds got confused, seeing as how you left one dead, and then suddenly became alive in another. Death probably couldn’t figure out what to do with you so it sent you here instead.”

“So I’m stuck here?”

Despite the miraculousness of it all, Nanami couldn’t help but feel a twinge of irritation. He had been prepared for death for several years now. So much to the point that he had a will drafted, signed, and sealed, declaring all his possessions to be donated to charity since he had no other family or next of kin. A copy of the keys to his house had been entrusted to the lawyer who had helped draft the will. He had all his affairs set in order with the expectation that his death would be sudden and he was unwilling to burden anyone to deal with the repercussions. 

He had known he would die in the line of duty. He had accepted his fate the moment Mahito had laid a hand on him in the underground, welcoming death as a tranquil friend. His whole life had been struggle after struggle, a gamble, clawing his way to stay alive. All he could say was that he had been lucky so far. There had to be a moment when that luck ran out. He had been dreaming of knowing peace and death seemed to be the only option for that. 

“Does it bother you, that you are alive?” The purgatory being asks him curiously, noting his less-than-happy expression. “Most would rejoice at this second chance for life.”

The question hits Nanami with a gravity he hadn’t been expecting. “Most people haven’t lived my life. I’ve done enough. I’m tired. I’ve earned the right to a peaceful death.”

“And yet, it looks like someone desperately wanted you to live.” Those hypnotic eyes wander over to the charm dangling on his wrist. “Is that not reason enough? To not want to die?”

Disturbed by the notion, Nanami grips the charm. Y/n’s energy had kept him alive, unwittingly preventing him from moving on into the afterlife. Whether that had been her intent was debatable. Her desperately wanting him to live? It just didn’t seem likely to him. Sure, perhaps she didn’t want him to die in the way that people didn’t want others to die in general. But beyond that? He couldn’t fathom her being so consumed by the thought of his death that she would create a charm that essentially kept him alive after having his soul damaged to what should have been a point beyond repair. 

Y/n had a late start in her career as a sorceress, and certain concepts about it seemed to stymie her, more typically seen in a younger student than someone her age. He had repeatedly told her to not worry about him when he took her on missions, to value her life more than his. He drilled it into her head when he taught her self-defense, that if there was an opportunity to escape she should take it, the hand-to-hand combat sometimes leaving bruises on her skin because she’d been unwilling to take a shot at him. It always pained him when that happened, marking her, leaving those unsavory blemishes on her but how else was she going to learn that fairness wasn’t something that existed in Jujutsu? Her willingness to get a little scuffed up if it meant protecting him from a curse irked him. She was rather like a kitten unwilling to be shooed away from a reluctant petter. His lips curled wryly as he imagined her expression if she ever heard that comparison out loud. 

‘Don’t be so cruel Nanami san!’ She’d probably say, those large (color) eyes looking at him reproachfully. And for a moment, his mind’s eye couldn’t picture anything else except that; those large (color) eyes, and the shock in them when he told her that he didn’t think he’d live very long. She hadn’t said anything to convince him his mindset was wrong, but she did look like he had betrayed her by expressing his very honest and logical opinion. As though he had broken an oath to her by not saying he wanted to live long and prosper. 

Nanami gives himself a mental shake. This wasn't the time to be thinking about Y/ni's opinion on his death. The bigger task at hand now was figuring out what to do about his imprisonment in purgatory. 

All the while, the shadow hadn’t wavered and had merely continued to look at him work through his inner monologue. Realizing that Nanami had reached a limit, it said, “No, you are not stuck here. At least, not for very long.”

The sorcerer’s head snaps up at those words, eyes narrowing behind the green glass of his frames. “What do you mean, not very long?”

“Well, the neutralized energy imbued into that charm? It’s not infinitely going to remain contained in that. The seal broke when it saved your life, and it’s essentially trickling out little particles of it. It will run out at some point, although it’s difficult to say when that is.”

“And when it does run out?”

“You’ll die.” The being says simply. “And move on into the next realm. That’s the way purgatory is supposed to work. Cleanse you to be fit to live in the realm of death.” 

“And it’s unknown when that will happen?”

The shadow appears to ponder his question before offering a hesitant guess. “A few days, maybe 4 or 5 at maximum, based on the energy intensity that it's currently emitting.”

“And what am I to do for 4 to 5 days here?” Nanami gestures around the gloomy library, obviously not impressed with this arrangement. These extra days before his impending death somehow made a vein pop in his forehead. It was like a pre-death before the actual one.

“Well, you must have noticed by now that this is the neighborhood you used to live in. You are free to wander around here and experience your old life one last time. You can visit your apartment, take the subway and wander around the Jujutsu High campus, or watch a movie in the theater.” The shadow suggested, sounding like a pleasant tour guide for the afterlife. “Think of it as a vacation before your death.”

It struck Nanami as a little absurd but he strokes his chin, considering. “And that’s my only option? To experience my old life before dying?”

“It’s not the only option. You could go back and live.”

A pregnant pause hangs in the air at those words. Nanami’s eyes widen at the thought. He could go back to the land of the living? He hadn’t even considered that as an option. He only had death on his mind. Thoughts of living on a beach, days filled with no responsibility still flickered through his mind but at the same time…

“What is it about life that makes you so hesitant?” The purgatory being asks him inquisitively. 

Nanami opens his mouth but no words come out. Had he been thinking about how to escape his situation that all he had ever thought about was dying? It wasn’t unexpected of him. He had learned so long ago that life was mostly shit, with a few moments of relief folded in. At least it was for curse users. He remembers seeing all the people he knew die, how he had tried to escape from Jujutsu, only to be sucked back in because he knew he didn’t fit in anywhere else. When faced with the choice of remaining in a job of corporate greed, or one that endangered his life but was somewhat altruistic, the choice became apparent. He had returned to Jujutsu. Not entirely selflessly, but with the idea that it was the quicker way out of his misery. 

“Is there nothing you would like to return to?” The shadow presses. “Remember that you are a very rare case. Hardly anyone ends up in purgatory under your circumstances. I would hate to see a life go to waste because you don’t know what to do with it.”

A sudden memory comes into Nanami’s mind. A day of unexpected frivolity, when Y/n, Yuji, and Ino had convinced him to come along to an amusement park. It was an odd day but to his surprise, he hadn't hated it. Y/n had mostly stayed away from the roller-coasters, leaving it to Yuji and Ino, wandering with Nanami to the food stalls, closer in age to him than she was to the boys. It was a strange feeling of domesticity he had never experienced before, almost like they were a hodgepodge family of misfits. It was the closest thing he had experienced to a normal day in a long time. 

But days like that were rare. They were like sprinkles on top of ice cream. People could never have more sprinkles than ice cream. Life just didn't work that way. However, Nanami found himself contemplating his choices. Perhaps he had been so jaded that he thought life was wading through ice cream instead of appreciating the sprinkles? And here he was dreaming about sprinkles when he was stuck in purgatory. 

He sighs and shakes his head. “If I did go back, would it make a difference?” He asks doubtfully. 

The being’s eyes crinkle warmly, almost like it's smiling. “To one person, yes. And isn't that more than enough?”

The charm swings from his wrist like a pendulum. He considers the shadow’s words and feels his heart clench uncomfortably. The stakes almost felt too high, wagering his return to life on the chance that it would make a difference to Y/n. Well, maybe not just her. He frowns as he feels the energy in the trinket resonate for a brief moment when he thinks of her, as though it was trying to convince him to make the gamble. He had never quite paid attention to her energy signature before now, so concentrated within the tiny object; it felt like a warm cup of coffee on a lazy Saturday morning. He feels disconcerted that he could sense this now and it was making him want to change his mind about dying. He sighed deeply, feeling his resolve begin to solidify, even though it felt like he was making the wrong choice. 

“How do I get out of here?” 

The shadow has no features except its eyes, but if Nanami could assign it an expression, it would have to be triumph.  

“I’m so glad you asked.” It appraisingly looks at him, before continuing. “Perhaps you might want to let the lady know you’re alive.”

“Must I?” Nanami asks with a hint of exasperation. 

The shadow looks amused but continues in an even tone. “I’m afraid I must insist. It's better to give people a warning when you’re coming back from the dead. Prepares them for the prospect of seeing you again. Trust me, it’s better that way.”

“And how do I do that?” 

It merely continues to look at him with that amused expression and Nanami almost lets out a growl of frustration. “Listen. I died. Then I was told I wasn’t dead, but I’ll die soon. Then I changed my mind and decided I wanted to live. The least you can do is tell me how to get a message out of here.”

The purgatory being laughs; it’s an eerie noise, yet had all the comfort of a long-lost friend. “Very well 7:3 Sorcerer. It’s simple really. To send a message out of here, all you need to do is blend your cursed energy with the cursed energy of the person you’re thinking about going back to life for. Imbue this energy into a small object which will then find a way to its recipient.”

The elementary way this was said nearly cracks his temper. “Is that all?” He asks, unable to keep the bite of sarcasm out of his voice. 

The shadow chuckles at this, adding to his ire. “It really is. Just try focusing on something other than your disappointment of not dying today.” 

Nanami takes a deep breath and exhales through his nose trying to keep his composure. “A small object…” His hand grips the handle of his blade and pulls it out, eyeing it carefully. The whole blade wouldn’t make it. He just automatically knew it. But he wanted to make sure Y/n would recognize the message was from him. He fidgets with the blade, thinking, and then by accident, the edge of it comes in contact with the Aum charm. 

The blend of energy that shoots through him was a shock; a mix of the warm coffee on Saturday mornings, coupled with the calculated preciseness of a seasoned Q-grader who assessed those coffee beans. The polka dots spattered all over the cloth wrapping the weapon glowed at the edges for a brief second before the blade lost contact with the charm. 

Nanami observed the whole process with fascination. Dormant instinct took over him, and he moved his hand so that the charm now swung over the blade. Focusing on that combined energy signature, he purposefully touches the charm to the blade. Y/n’s neutralized curse energy flows into the blade, and he feels his own beginning to fuse with it. He concentrates on his ratio technique, and with a flash, all the polka dots lift off the blade, glowing with a pale sea foam green aura. 

“Find her,” he whispers to the dots, and in a hazy glow, they vanish. 

Nanami watches, as though in a daze, unable to believe what had just happened. He turns to look at the purgatory being.

“Message sent. Now, how do I get out of here?”

The shadow being had been looking at the spot where the polka dots had vanished. It swirls around and looks at him in the eyes. 

“By facing your deepest regrets.”

Animated lines and support banner by @cafekitsune

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[biconickyoshi]

Zuko and Aang as they appear in Book 2: Water of my slowburn Zukaang AU, The Avatar and the Fire Prince!

Overall Synopsis (for new readers):

In the year 96 AG, a freshly burned and banished 13-year-old Prince Zuko discovers a strange boy frozen in an iceberg. When Zhao interferes with Zuko's plans to deliver the Avatar to his father, Aang helps Zuko and Iroh escape. They take refuge in the abandoned Air Temples, Aang searching for any remnants of his people that he can find. Along the way, he teaches an indoctrinated Zuko about the true nature of the Air Nomads. Zuko must come to terms with the fact that everything he has been taught was a lie, while Iroh must acknowledge and face the sins of his past. Eventually, Aang and Zuko become close friends, and Zuko begins to feel things he has never felt for anyone before. However, Zhao will not give up easily, and will do whatever it takes to capture the Avatar and his traitor accomplices.

Book 2 Synopsis:

Zuko and Iroh have now officially denounced the Fire Nation and the Royal Family and are dedicating themselves to helping Aang fight against the forces of their homeland. After narrowly escaping Admiral Zhao at Crescent Island during the winter solstice of 96 AG, Aang, Zuko, and Iroh travel south in search of the Southern Water Tribe village Aang has been dreaming about. The village is in danger: the Southern Raiders are coming, and it will be up to our trio - with the help of a couple of Water Tribe siblings - to unite the remaining villages of the Southern Water Tribe so that they will stand a fighting chance.

I got an iPad for Xmas and I’ve spent the past couple days working on this! :) I’m super happy with how it turned out!

Zuko’s about 14 here - his hair length is how it looks about halfway through this Book. I’ll probably do another piece to show what he looks like at the end of the Book since his hair is a lot longer now with it being almost a year since he cut it in the AU’s timeline (we’re now approaching the Northern Water Tribe storyline). I’ve also never drawn weapons before… so I hope his broadswords don’t look too wonky 😅

Aang is about 13 here. He’s wearing a new outfit as well, which I thought made sense since this AU takes place over 3-4 years instead of less than one year like in the OG series. Aang’s gonna grow a lot over the course of this AU, so he can’t just keep wearing his Air Nomad trainee clothes indefinitely lol.

I plan to do a lot more pieces in the future as I get the hang of digital art, so I would like to draw more characters (like Iroh, Sokka, and Katara) and more looks for Aang and Zuko. I’m also really excited for Book 3, which will be Earth in my fic (Earth is my absolute favorite season of the OG show). Zuko’s hair will probably be long enough to pull back into a ponytail again at some point during that book… Though this time it will be a different style :) gotta do some brainstorming for that one!

I’m close to wrapping up the next chapter, in which our characters make a return to the Northern Air Temple! I haven’t had as much time to work on it recently just due to all the holiday stuff that’s been going on. It’s probably gonna be a shorter chapter as well (which I don’t mind, I hope y’all don’t either). But after that, we’ll finally be in the Northern Water Tribe! :)

#the avatar and the fire prince #taatfp #my art #atla #atla au #zuko #aang #atla fan art #avatar the last airbender au #zukaang #zukaang au #zukaang fanfic #atla fanfic #zuko x aang #aang x zuko #ao3

[sy-on-boy]

(Potentially) new information from the Spy x Family exhibit book!

Okay, I’ve done some digging around and not gonna lie, some information in there has me excited. I can’t read Japanese so I took photos and put them through translate, so it’s not the most accurate, and please take this post with a grain of salt. Here we go!

Translations are more than welcome! Feel free to use these photos and feel free to DM me for clearer photos. I would also love to know what this all means haha. Japanese “raw” text is taken from Google translate and may be inaccurate to what is actually shown in the photos.

✩ The SxF world apparently has no Christmas!

I’ve heard claims of it, and here’s a picture I took.

“遠藤達哉先生 コメント

こちらは冬の休載イラスト です。 電飾一個一個を北斗 神拳ばりに連打して描きま した。 クリスマスっぽい雰 囲気を出していますが、 『SPY×FAMILY』の世界に クリスマスはありません。”

Google translate tells me that there’s no Christmas in the SxF world but he tried to create a Christmas-like atmosphere? Not sure but it would align with other people’s claims.

✩ Yuri apparently had a girlfriend in a rough draft!

This is Endo’s handwriting so the machine can’t recognise the words easily, but I think the woman in the bottom of Yuri’s sheet is his “girlfriend”? And Google translate tells me she’s Yuri’s “weakness” and Twilight might use her against Yuri / take advantage of the girlfriend? This is a very interesting idea that didn’t get used in canon (yet?). I think in canon, Yuri is popular but he’s too devoted to his sister. A new significant other of a prominent character would shake things up. Especially when it comes to Yuri, a member of the SSS.

By the way, Yuri’s potential designs are kind of cool. I like the ponytail.

✩ Apparently “Oscar” was one of Twilight’s potential names! + Early Twilight designs

I think we know Yor was originally short for Yorlanda (this is in the upper sheet). There’s a whole list of names beside Twilight and the name Oscar オスカー appeared frequently. There are also more names that I can’t decipher.

✩ Designs of some potential WISE agents! (And early Fiona)

Fiona’s sheet (next to Yuri’s) was titled “WISE spy (female)” and now we have a sheet titled “WISE spy (male)”. Was Fiona a placeholder spy that made it to the main cast? Or will this “male spy” end up having significance too? The two smaller heads at the left are apparently Twilight’s associates. Also, a Melinda sketch. Not gonna lie, the male spy feels kinda cute. Hope he’s not completely scrapped.

✩ Endo’s interview!

I feel like I should put this earlier but I was distracted with the Christmas / Yuri’s potential girlfriend thing. This is at the very end of the book. Apparently Endo was influenced by the invasion of Ukraine in 2022. This interview was apparently taken in March 2023. I think it’s fairly important so I’ll wait for a proper translation before saying anything else.

✩ Comments on Donovan, Melinda, Redacted, and Sylvia!

These two pages are together and I found it significant because Endo discusses the SxF themes. (My notes are not direct translations.) Apparently:

Sylvia’s scene in Mission 20 is Endo’s favourite scene, and he was looking at materials related to war for a long time and wondered if he could make use of it. [JP below]

とてもお気に入りのシーンです。 「SPY×FAMILY」の連載とは関係無し 昔から戦争に関する資料は色々見て いたので、多少はこの作品にも活かせ ているのかなーと。

Donovan’s statement of “in the end, people will never understand each other” (rough paraphrase) is the theme of the work. And Endo wanted to create a feeling of Donovan being the final boss. He didn’t plan on arranging it from the beginning, but he thinks the Desmonds are a good contrast to the Forgers. (Does this mean the Forgers think people will understand each other?) [JP below]

作品のテーマでもあるセリフ ですね。 少しでもドノバンの ラスボス感を醸し出せればい いなーと思いながら描きまし た。最初から意図して配置し たわけではないですが、デス モンド家はフォージャーと 良い対比になっているのかな と思います

The chapters on Twilight’s past coincided with the anime so Endo thought it was a good idea to explore Twilight’s past. [JP below]

アニメが始まるタイミングな のもあって、黄昏〉という人 物を掘り下げる良い機会かな と思い過去編を入れました。 あまり重たくなりすぎないよ うに、でも伝えたいことは最低限伝えられるように、自分 なりにバランスを取って描い たつもりです。

Melinda is described as “friendly” (?) even though she is dignified. A positive description of Melinda… interesting. What’s also interesting is that after she learns that Yor is the mother of the child who got into a fight with Damian, she “shows interest”. Melinda, what do you want with Anya? [JP below]

ダミアンの母で、東国元首相夫人。気品に溢れつ つも、気さくな性格。 ヨルが息子と喧嘩したアー ニャの母親と知り、興味を示している。

I personally think these two pages contain hints about the mystery of the featured characters and would love to know what it means :D

✩ Early Yor and Bond!

There’s a lot more Yor but again the image limit is constricting me. I really like the Bond designs, they’re funny and he’s just a chonky little boi :)

✩ Comments on the panel of Twilight’s head in Yor’s lap!

“珍しいイチャイチャシーンです。 ヨルさん は一年中酔っ払ってればいいのに”

Which apparently means: “a rare flirting (?) scene, I wish Yor was drunk all year long”

?!??! Twiyor?!! Hello!! I cannot resist mentioning this one, this is one of my favourite Twiyor / SxF scenes. Are we gonna get more drunk Yor? More Twiyor? More flirting? I’m excited now.

I’ve reached the image limit, so here’s all for this post for now! Translations are totally welcome and again I would love to know what this all means. I’m sorry if I accidentally said misleading information, so please tell me so I can correct it. Once again, don’t take my words as complete fact. The Yuri girlfriend thing is really surprising to me haha.

#spy x family #spy x family exhibition #yor forger #loid forger #yuri briar #fiona frost #bond forger #donovan desmond #sylvia sherwood #melinda desmond #twiyor #i guess. that comment seems shippy to me #long post

[heavencanbeaprisontoo]

Strip Me to My Bones

Slowburn!Tommy x autistic!fem!reader Prologue: An Odd Woman

Summary: Tommy meets you in 1919, the beginning that feels like an ending in hindsight. Among betting men there is a vibrant culture of superstition and mysticism. It was in this industry you found your trade as a “psychic,” and met a man with a Red Right Hand.

Warnings: Period-typical sexism, contextual use of g-slur, Canon-typical violence, author is autistic, spoilers for series one possibly, slow burn, Tommy is shallow and confused at first. WC: 1.6k

1919 was an odd year for Mr. Shelby. His eyes were still bright, the boy who died in the tunnels still clung to his ankles as he stalked the roads of Birmingham. In those days, Tommy was still starving for money. For any sort of gain in power. He still slept on an old mattress with his drug of choice within reach. He still delivered his horses to mystics and magicians to psych out the competitors of the next day’s race. It was this Thomas Shelby who brought himself to the door of your flat. You, the newest little medium in Small Heath.

He had heard many things about you. How you seemed to just “know,” things. You weren’t gypsy, but there were whispers that you could see inside hearts and minds like no other. For a reasonable fee, you would read a person like a book tell them the next chapter of their life without hesitation. He was not normally the sort to seek your kind out. Thomas Shelby could see ahead just fine without the guide of psychic, genuine or charlatan in nature. Until, of course, a crate of guns came into his possession and an Irish woman sang to him from atop a table. Even the devil needs direction, sometimes. 

That morning, the devil had sought you out.

Your flat looked the same as any other. There were green vines and a purple curtain blocking his view inside your window. Plain bricks on the outside. Gutter hanging off slightly from your roof. Thinking it best to just get it all over with, he knocked. You answered. And he froze.

When he first saw you, there was nothing extraordinary about you. You didn't wear a silk turban or line your eyes with black to convince your customers of some supernatural gift. You were just a young woman dressed comfortably in her little flat. A long, thick robe suited for the winter chill was tied around your body and sensible slippers on your feet. Nothing overly frilly or fanciful. Tommy would almost call your presentation "dowdy." However, what had made him freeze were your eyes. He knows the power of his own stare. Your stare was something truly unique. It was something he couldn’t quite put into words. The color of your eyes was not exceptional, nor the size of your eyes or their shape. There was a force behind the stare that had him fixed to the spot. The sound of your voice was all that put him back into the world.

“Can I help you?” your tone is flat, but he can’t decide of its intentional.

Tommy takes a glance from the corner of his eye to ensure there are no onlookers. The roads are empty. He looks into your eyes once more and says, “You see the future, I hear.”

“I see people, for a price. Not the future. Nobody can do that. It’s rather early, so I hope you’ve got money in that big coat,” you step aside to let him inside. He almost hesitates. Second thoughts are not something Tommy likes to entertain. To falter, to ruminate, is to dance at the edge of cowardice. Tommy pushes onward and crosses the threshold of your home. Thus begins the start of a most unusual affair.

The lighting was dim in your little flat, and on the walls were dozens of shadowboxes were every assortment of insect on display. In fact, nearly everything in your home appeared to be some sort of collection. Orderly in their presentation but crowded due to lack of space. All the furniture looked inherited rather than new, but that was typical. There was the scent of lavender and cedar in the air. As he passed by two sticks of incense burning on the mantle of your fireplace, he found the origin of the fragrance. 

‘No trace of any other resident in the home. No husband. How modern’, he thought. As he made his observations, Tommy was painfully aware of your eyes on his back. You guided him silently to a small room with two sofas facing each other. He sat opposite to you, not bothering to remove his cap. As you sit across from him, your eyes are everywhere but him. Roving about the room as you tap your thumb to the tip of each finger on your hand. By the way you were sitting, someone just entering the room might assume you were a guest by how stiff your posture was. Back completely straight, both feet firmly planted on the floor. This was your home, your time, and Tommy looked more at ease sitting on your own furniture. 

“I normally have tea prepared, but you don’t drink tea anyway, so I won’t bother with the kettle this time,” you say as your bottom hits the sofa cushion. He hears you. He hears you make a correct assumption about him, but he does not show his acknowledgement. 

Tommy threads his fingers together on his lap, “They say you can see inside of people, tell them things about them that even they don’t know.”

Blinking owlishly at him you reply, “My, that’s a lovely review of my services! Should put that on a sign outside my doorway. Though I would rather know why you came to see me, Mr. Shelby. You are Mr. Shelby yes?”

“That I am,” he nearly laughs, “and I am not entirely sure why I came to see you either.”

Your eyes snap onto his own and again he feels caught off guard by it. Slowly, you lean forward, “It’s not like you to need help. You avoid seeking it. Something has happened to you that has never happened before, you do not know how to carry on because you cannot fall back on learned tactics to navigate the storm.”

He says nothing. Tommy finds you don’t require his input to carry on speaking as you tilt your head and continue. As you speak, you never break eye contact. Your gaze is one that leaves him feeling stripped to the bone. Flesh peeled back and pinned so that you may inspect him further with an objective, curious eye, "One of the walking wounded, soldier come home from war. You don't sleep well. None of you do. But, you hide it better than most."

"Quite the assumption," he deadpanned.

You carry on as if not hearing him, “A Catholic without Christ. Guilty but without remorse. You only follow yourself and yet you have lost faith within. So, you act out of your own character to try to find a solution to a problem you’ve made yourself. A problem with solutions you can't commit to.”

Tommy’s heart is beating faster in his chest. The plain-faced woman who greeted him at the door has been replaced. Your face seems to change, the sir around you shifting. There is a thrill in being seen. A thrill, but also annoyance. “And what would you do to solve such a problem?”

“It wouldn’t help you to know what anyone else would do. Even if my way was best, you wouldn’t obey it. Obedience is not something you do willingly,” there’s a smile in your eyes that makes his hands tighten around each other. “Is your greatest problem above, below, or beside you?”

His face remains stoic as he mulls over your odd question. He thinks of those beneath him, the factory workers who riot and cause him distraction. Beside him, his brothers in arms and brothers by blood. Ada. Freddie…. Grace. And then he thinks of Campbell and Kimber. “Above me, always.”

You nod, “There was no need for you to come see me. You know the answer to the question before you asked it. The greatest woe for you is that there are matters of the heart keeping you from stabbing upwards to the enemies who stand over you. You aren’t used to having that sort of obstacle... You need to decide what you want more and act accordingly. To have both things will end poorly, but I can't stop you. Nobody can but you.”

For a moment, he feels a sense of relief. It had been many years since the words of a stranger had done that to him. This feeling was overtaken by an immediate realization. He had come to you under the assumption that you were gifted by second-sight. Yet… You had no cards, no crystals, did not say a prayer or even a hymn in a nonsense language.

“You’re no medium,” he states it as fact. Not as a question or accusation. Though, he watches to see how you take it. Tommy likes to see how people respond to being caught, he finds it to be the most revealing time for most. For the third or fourth time since he laid eyes on you, you defied expectation.

With a slow shrug you say, “I’ve never made the claim that I was one. Everyone started saying so one day and I decided not to correct them. I just read people.”

‘What an odd woman,’ Tommy leaned back in his seat. Face still as stone. As he looked at you, your posture returned to that stiff, nearly-too-straight, position from before. He could see why the average man would see you as something beyond the natural. Ordinary to otherworldly. An odd woman indeed. You stand from your couch with a small, crooked smile, “That’ll be ten quid, Mr. Shelby, a discount for a first-time reading. It'll be thirteen for the next time.”

He pushed the money into your hands and said, "Won't be a next time." You gave him no audible response as you walked him to your door and released him from the dreamworld your home had trapped him in. Tommy did not look back as he walked three paces from your door and lit a cigarette. No one had seen him and he had a feeling you wouldn't share his visit with others.

Tommy pushed you from his mind to focus on what may come next.

The rest of the day moved quickly and slowly all at once after he left your little flat. He swore to himself that he would never go back. Swore that he hated every instant spent in your dark home that smelled of lavender and cedar. Swore that he despised the way you peeled back his skin with that glare so sharp. No, he couldn't feel them on him. Not at all.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #thomas shelby #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby #thomas shelby x you #Thomas Shelby x autistic!reader #autistic!reader

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 29 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

-You dare not put it down on the big tablet on your easel where John will see, but you can’t stop yourself from drawing it out in your smaller sketchbook-journal that is easier to squirrel away under clutter, putting down marks like you mean to exorcise her from your memory. You draw her like a ghost in her field of happy white flowers, and write in the margins in your looping script, I’m sorry. I don’t know how to make him forgive you. You want me to save him but I don’t know how. I don’t fucking know how.

Maybe she’ll actually hear your plea and do something useful about it, like haunt John’s dreams instead of yours.

Maybe you’re losing your damn mind. 

You find that either way, you’re not brave enough to mention her to your captor again.

She becomes an obsession, and you keep drawing her in your little sketchbook. You’ve only ever seen one picture of her. It was in the den, but has since disappeared. Still, you feel you know the lines of her face, the brightness of her eyes. You go back to your old fixation with the ladies of Mucha, sketching her out as the Lady of the Daisies with flowing auburn hair surrounded by her stylized flowers and flowing lines.

You strive to cover your true fixation by putting down anything as quickly as you can on the easel, knowing your captor will be by for inspection. You draw sunflowers, your favorite summer bloom, something fun but you can do with your eyes closed with colorful, juicy strokes of oil pastels. You hope to keep John off the scent of the book that holds your heartfelt neuroses that you bury under piles of all your new art supplies and anything else you can find.

It was stupid, of course, to think you could really hide anything from him.

One day you find him in the chair with his legs crossed, perusing your sketch journal with one of those magnificent thunderheads of a frown.

You are certain you are fucked, when he asks, “Is this your idea of a joke?”

Trembling as you imagine what he’s going to do to you for this infraction, you answer truthfully, “No.”

He closes the book with a snap, crossing the floor to stand before you, his powerful body moving deceptively slow, the way a tiger appears slothful in the jungle.

You know he can snap you up with one bite.

You cannot stop shaking, as he peers down that straight nose at you, pinning you with black eyes that somehow burn. He does not touch you, but God. He sees everything. You just know that he sees everything, and you find you are terrified of how he’ll react.  

“Have you been snooping through my things?”

“No.” The irony of him holding your sketch diary is not lost on you, but wisely you hold your tongue.

“How did you know what she looked like?”

“You had a picture out of her, ages ago.” At least, it felt like a like a lifetime ago.

“How did you know about the daisies?”

Now you know he’s going to flip his shit. It sounds fucking absurd, even to you. Your voice can barely rasp past what feels like dried twigs in your throat to whisper, “I saw them in a dream.”

You expect him to scoff and call you a liar. But he just searches your face, his eyes a little too wild for your liking. Here we go. He’d been damn near stable the past few days, but surely this will set him off.

You close your eyes, unable to watch the unfolding of your doom. This is it. He’s going to lock you up forever. You’ll never see the light of day again. The trembling in your frame kicks up to ten, and you hug yourself just to have something to hold on to.

When his next question comes, he could push you over with a feather.

“What does she say?”

You shake your head, realizing your cheeks are wet with tears.

“Nothing. She just…offers me the flower.” Going for broke you add, “She looks so sad.”

It is the sound of tearing paper that opens your eyes; with horror you find John making confetti of your art nouveau sketch that took hours to do. However, any protest dies on your lips—if destroying the drawing appeases him, maybe he won’t take it out on you.

Without another word, just a hard look, he stalks from the room.

Only when the sound of his footsteps fade down the hall do you let out the breath you didn’t even realize you were holding, your knees quivering like leaves in a storm.

However, you are not foolish enough to believe you’re in the clear just yet.

-Later, there is no dinner. You find the kitchen cold and empty. Not sure what to make of this, you graze in the fridge, before returning to your bedroom. Not sure where John has gotten off to, you shower, then go to bed, finding yourself lying awake in the dark without him beside you, almost itchy without his steady presence in the evening at your side.

Part of it might be that you fear something is brewing, and you can’t stand the waiting…but part of it might simply be that you miss him, as fucked up as that is.

In the end, against your better judgement, you go looking.

You search the house, until the only room that is left is the garage. Silently you open the door, slipping through without a sound. You too are learning how to move quiet as a wraith. The smell of rubber and oil assaults your nostrils. Classic rock is playing low on the radio. In the far bay, the hood of the Mustang is open, and John is bent over inside, wrenching on something and muttering to himself. There is a partially empty bottle of Blanton’s Bourbon on the workbench behind him, and an empty glass.

Unable to stop yourself from committing what perhaps might prove to be suicide, you creep to the other side of the Land Rover, using it as cover as you eavesdrop on this man grumbling to the ghost of his deceased wife.  

“What do you want from me? I loved you. I loved you with every fucking fiber of my being, but you left me. I died with you the day you left me, and she is the only thing that makes me feel alive again. I need her, and she never would have come to me on her own. She never would have stayed. She never would have stayed.”

He says this to himself over and over, and it wrenches your heart, because you know it isn’t true.

You think you manage to creep back out again without him noticing, Led Zeppelin on the radio disguising the sound of the door.

When at last he comes to bed and wraps you in his arms, holding you too hard for comfort, you feign sleep, smelling the bourbon fumes on his breath. You can’t help but tense, wondering if he will forget his promise this deep in his cups.

But he just sighs into your hair, crushing you as he pulls you even closer, and you don’t know why it breaks your heart all over again.

#heyyyy it happened! #bittersweet john wick imagine #john wick #john wick x reader #john wick fic #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x reader #yandere john wick

[yuri-is-online]

Love and Deepspace Timeline: Xavier

This is all speculation and should not be taken as fact, I have made a previous post about Zayne, but as stated there I do not have the necessary cards to make one for Rafayel and will direct you to this post by u/joonmin on the love and deepspace subreddit. This post is being made before I have managed to complete the Myths date (as soon as I hit level 55 it is over for you hos) and will be updated at some point once I have finished it, but I think I have enough information to explain Xav's overall timeline and hopefully clear up a few things for people missing his cards.

I have included a TL;DR at the end of the post for people who don't want to get lost in the weeds of theorizing.

Some information from that post about Zayne will be re-hashed here to help provide context about the game's setting. SPOILERS FOR ALL IN GAME CONTENT UP TO CHAPTER 8, VARIOUS MOMENTS, AND ANECDOTES, PROCEED WITH CARE.

Current Timeline

The current timeline where the main story of LAD takes place is set in the year 2048 in a place called Linkon City. We are told that the Deepspace Tunnel opened 14 years prior and that is when wanderers started invading earth. There is a lack of understanding about why this has happened, and it has sparked an interest in space exploration in the hopes of finding a solution.

The Hunters Association is sort of like an adventurers guild? It's supervised by the government, and is sort of split between Hunters like MC and researchers attempting to understand what makes the wanderers tick.

This includes researching protocores, currently the only thing the hunter's association knows for sure is that they contain a great deal of energy, and that they can cause disease in humans based off of which category the protocore falls into. This is confirmed the be what is wrong with MC, and appears to be a problem all versions of her share.

The events immediately following the opening of the Deepspace Tunnel are referred to as the Catastrophe due to the amount of destruction caused by the influx of wanderers. This is what birthed the N109 Zone. According to the in game Spacepedia, it is surrounded by various other "no-hunt" zones, which it further clarifies as being places with "a chaotic Protofield and frequent Wanderer appearances," i.e. really dangerous places for people to live let alone go to. Civilians are outright banned and hunters need special permission to enter because of just how dangerous these places are considered to be.

Unlike Zayne and Rafayel, Xavier does not have an alternate self yet. The versions of him in his myths card and all of his anecdotes are all the same person, just at various points in his long life. The technicality of this is addressed in one of the shareable posts: Immortality No Longer A Dream! The article goes into detail about how a new biotech company using protocores to regenerate the heart. You can share this article with each of the three boys, who have different types of reactions, but Xavier's is not one of surprise or skepticism, but of acceptance. The article itself talks about immortality as something everyone will one day be able to accomplish, but Xavier disagrees.

Xavier's first two anecdotes, A Special Vacation and Passing By, both establish how exactly he has been living his life on earth since his arrival. We learn that he has been doing his best to keep a low profile by moving between various jobs and tries to avoid making friends. As mentioned by @exactlycleverpirate in the replies of this post (who has made their own timeline you can check out here) "Xavier says he has been on Earth for 214 years, and that this will be his last. That means he arrived in 1834. We also see in one of his Tender Moments, that he rented a book from the library 30 years ago. So he has definitely been on Earth longer than the Deepspace tunnel has been around." Chapter 8 ends tells us that soon Earth and Philos will be in alignment for the first time in billions of years, which is likely why Xavier says this year will be his last, but I am unclear about what exactly that will cause.

We learn that there are other immortals from the same place as Xavier living in Linkon City, and that some of the see him as a traitor. We can assume that many of these immortals are involved with Onychinus due to Xavier's knowledge of and interest in their organization.

It's not clear how or when Xavier chose to start working as a Deepspace Hunter, but the other jobs he's taken all seem to be related to the military/evol combat. He is also very keen on fighting wanderers, so being a hunter is a good way for him to hide in plain sight. Which is what he has been trying to do.

His Precious Bonfire date suggests he has been a hunter longer than MC and has a reputation of not participating in team events. He has the highest level of access to the Hunters Association database and seems to have a good working relationship with Jenna, who seems content to let him do his own thing. She also attempted to assign MC as his partner, in part seemingly because she wants to protect MC's evol.

There is of course also the concept of Lumiere, a legendary hunter who appears during the catastrophe caused by the Deepspace Tunnel and wreaked any wanderer he came across. He has a light evol, a giant bounty on his head, and looks exactly like Xavier when we see his wanted poster in Chapter 8. While MC might have her doubts, since we the reader know Xavier is immortal, it's not much of a jump to say these two hunters are the same person.

Chapter 8 gives us more detailed look at the exact dynamics these immortals have with each other, but I think it makes sense to talk about Xavier's origins first so we know where he is coming from.

Philos Timeline

As I said on my other post, all of the Myths cards take place on the planet of Philos. In the present timeline, Philos is no longer a planet, just a lonely core floating in deepspace at the other end of the deepspace tunnel. In Xavier's third anecdote, When Shooting Stars Fall, we finally learn what Philos is: it's Earth. An Earth that has been reborn by substituting the planet's old core with an artificial one and with a different name.

Now this anecdote takes place in the year 214, which is explained to us as meaning 214 years has passed since Earth was destroyed and reborn as Philos. How does that make sense if we are currently on a very much alive earth with a very dead Philos on the other end of the Deepspace Tunnel? No clue, but I think that's going to be one of the main focuses of the story. Something had to happen to Earth to make it become Philos, and then something happened to Philos to make it uninhabitable. Given what we know, both are likely related to wanderers.

I also want to briefly mention that in Rafayel's myths card, it is mentioned that the sea is missing so the Lemurians have no home. Based off of MC's description of the weather and how "fragmented landmasses" are being held together, I wonder if the re-birth of Earth as Philos is what caused the seas to dry up? And if so what role did MC have in the creation of Philos if any?

This anecdote is from the pov of MC who is studying at a school she simply refers to as "The Academy." It is unclear if this is the same school as she and Xavier are attending in his Lightseeker cards, but based off the uniform he wears and the sword he carries I think this is likely meant to be a highschool of some sort, and the Astria Knyght Academy is a form of military school equivalent to a college.

Xavier's words about immortality being a privilege come into play here as we learn something about MC: she always seems to have heart problems, specifically she always seems to have Protocore Syndrome, the exact same disease she currently has. In this anecdote she explains it as being a birth defect that has only one cure, a special protocore. One that supposedly can cure any illness.

Protocore disease prevents the patient from living forever, something Xavier finds very hard to accept. He abandons MC for a month without telling her where he is going to try and find this Protocore that she needs to live, but comes back too late. By the time he finds her, the core can't save her and he holds her as she dies. She asks if he thinks they will meet in her next life and he promises to always wait for her.

We know current timeline MC has shards of an Aether core in her heart, and that her heart is currently stable. While the anecdote does not outright say that the cure to Protocore Syndrome is an Aether core, Xavier's knowledge of them and his emotions when MC brings them up to him makes me think it probably is. Currently we do not know how an Aether core can be obtained, other than (assuming that is what he brought MC) Xavier was injured getting one. The MC here says she is unable to live for more that a century, something that has changed in her next re-incarnation but we don't know why.

When MC re-incarnates she is brought under the tutelage of the Grandis Knight, the personal knight and retainer to the King of Philos. Xavier is the Crown Prince of Philos, and is also studying under swordplay under the Grandis Knight. She has no memories of Xaveir, who does not tell her about their shared past despite holding on to the gift she made for him: a star sword tassel. This doesn't seem to bother him as much as you might expect, he mostly just seems happy to have her alive again.

She is stupid jealous of that tassel because Xavier openly admits to being in love with the girl who gave it to him. But he also speaks about her and the MC in the same sentence if that makes any sense? He sees both versions of her as her, and just as he promised he intends to wait for her so they can be together.

Xavier is an interesting character (to me anyway) because he has a pretty clear arc to his attitude towards his relationship with MC as he ages. He starts off as being shy in the third anecdote, then he moves to being openly teasing and affectionate (outright asking to elope and saying things that make it sounds like they might have been betrothed) in his lightseeker cards, to how he is at the end of his myths date and currently with MC: restrained in his interactions with her but unable to completely keep himself away. Why he has become restrained, why he thinks he needs to distance himself from MC is unclear. What is clear is that he has no interest in taking the throne from his father, a man he actively hates and does not seem to see eye to eye with. While their relationship seems to have always been tense, the breaking point is during Xavier's Gladius Ceremony.

The Gladius Ceremony is a sort of coming of age ceremony where the heir proves their ability to ascend the throne by killing a wanderer with nothing but their lightblade. Something happened during that trial that Xavier does not want to talk about and MC mentions he has "changed" since then. Like he left part of himself behind????

As an interesting note this trial takes place in a forest, a sentient forest much like No-Hunt Zone 7 in chapter three.

Xavier says he cannot be the man his father wants. What his father wants is not clear, but I personally think it has something to do with what wanderers are as Xavier seems to have a degree of sympathy towards them if they show a degree of sentience. It also might have something to do with how Philos was made, as both MC and Xavier acknowledge that the planet is dying.

The MC mentions that Xavier leaves her a lot but always comes back within a specified time frame. He goes on expeditions into Deepspace, but never tells MC what he is looking for and we as a reader do not learn. He does, however, mention finding a newborn planet filled with flowers and offers to take MC there if she will give up on being a knight. She is confused, as her entire life's purpose has been to be his knight, and doesn't fully comprehend a world where Xavier isn't going to be king.

But the card story starts with MC being crowned Queen, with Xavier as her Grandis knight, so we know that's what will happen. So neither of them got what they wanted in the end.

The "Lightseeker" title of Xavier's card refers to a unit of knights that are commanded by the Crown Prince and answer only to the royal family. Their duty is to keep Philos safe from Wanderers, much like the modern day Hunter's Association. Both the MC and Xavier are training to become Lightseekers, and have a sort of rivalry for the spot. MC keeps beating Xavier when they spar but he seems to have the stronger Evol so they're quite equally matched. It's stupid cute how everyone but Jeremiah thinks they hate each other, speaking of which:

Jeremiah is a friend of MC's in the same class as her. He's also her wingman who keeps trying to help set her and Xavier up, something Xav doesn't seem fully aware of. He's stupid jealous of their friendship which Jeremiah seems to find really funny (he's the only one who knows how delulu they are for each other and seems to find a lot of enjoyment in teasing them.)

Jeremiah also ends up being a knight under MC's command after they graduate the academy. Xavier however... goes missing after a meeting with his father and does not reappear even after he dies. He is missing for a period of 200 years until MC finds him again in the same forest that his Galdius Ceremony took place in. He saves her from... something. An illusion? A cosmic vortex? Whatever it was Xavier has discovered something that affects the health of people's hearts. And he seems determined to not get close to MC or let MC get close to him because of it.

I think it might just be because she is about to die from her disease, which she doesn't seem aware she has but always does, and Xavier doesn't want to have to watch her die again. But I haven't finished the card yet so I don't know.

He also seems to be under the impression the whole world is going to end now, and not just Philos.

The last thing we need to take from all of this information about Philos is the existence of a group called the Backtrackers. Xavier was with them once, but he isn't anymore. MC was seemingly under their care and, according to his Passing By anecdote, traveled through the Deepspace Tunnel with them but was lost. I'll explain more about what I think about them now that we're ready to return to the present timeline, but just know that the Backtrackers are A) from the Philos timeline and B) likely immortal just like Xavier is.

Back to the Present

In Chapter 8 you are either introduced or re-introduced to Jeremiah, who now owns a flower shop called Philo, likely named after his home planet of Philos. He is a friend of Xavier's and they both share the same current goals, which includes protecting the MC. Jer's job in this chapter is to provide MC with a fake identity to use in the N109 zone, but he does provide us with some information to try and tie up some loose ends with Xavier's timeline.

While the Nonintervention principal he refers to probably does have something to do with MC, it also likely just refers the fact that since both Xavier and Jeremiah are from Philos and therefore the future they are trying not to interfere with the timeline too much. Something that whoever blew up MC's house does not care about anymore, implying that if that was indeed Onychinus then we can assume they likely are also immortals from Philos who want MC and her Aether core for something.

When MC finds Xavier again after his 200 year disappearing act he is leading a squad of Lightseekers from various units. I think these are probably the Backtrackers, and that there was a split in the group after the MC and the Aether core went missing during their journey into the Deepspace Tunnel. We know that at least Xavier has been here longer than the Deepspace Tunnel has been, but there is room for speculation around Jeremiah and the others. As Pirate again pointed out in the comments, whatever disaster during the travel the Backtrackers took into the Deepspace Tunnel likely caused them to arrive at a bunch of different points in time.

While this confirms that Xavier and Jeremiah are not from this timeline it raises a lot of questions about MC. Her memory is constantly spotty, and I had wondered if that had something to do with the Aether core... but now.

With the way Xavier tries to limit his interactions with her and says he's the last person who should be trying to get close to her I wonder if Xavier is worried MC is being erased from time? Or if she belongs to this timeline so while he loves her, while he wants to be the one she chooses, he subconsciously knows he's from a doomed timeline and therefore unable to stay with her. This also raises questions about the other two love interests; we know MC has forgotten things about Rafayel and I theorized she has forgotten something about Zayne. Is this because they also don't belong? Does MC not belong? Or is it something related to the trauma MC experienced from being experimented on?

TL;DR

This was all pretty complicated so I thought I would sum up the basic points because I felt a bit incoherent.

Xavier is the Crown Prince of Philos, a future version of Earth that was created by replacing Earth's core with a fake one.

This fake core allowed the citizens of Philos to live forever unless they had the rare heart condition know as Protocore Syndrome, something the MC always has no matter how many times she is reborn.

The cure to Protocore Syndrome is a rare Protocore that Xavier tries to get for her but gets back with too late. He watches her die and while he was already shown dislike seeing her injured, this seems to turn it into a genuine trauma of his. He is shown to be deeply distraught seeing her gravely injured or sick in multiple moments/dates and is determined to take care of her. In a rare decision by the writers, this does not appear to manifest itself as a desire to not see her engage in combat as he trusts her ability to take care of herself, just maybe not her willingness.

MC is reborn and begins military training with Xavier intending to become his knight, but Xavier refuses to take the throne of Philos for reasons he does not share with MC. He also begins disappearing for long periods of time on journeys into space. On one of these journeys he finds a young planet filled with flowers and attempts to convince MC to elope with him and abandon her dreams of being a knight. He seems uncertain if MC's desire to be with him is just because she has been told she is to be his knight or if it is because she genuinely loves him; Xavier knows which one he wants it to be though.

After talking with his father he disappears for 200 years and founds a group of knights investigating a forest with an unstable Protofeild where killed Wanderers simply don't stay dead. It is my theory that these are the Backtrackers mentioned by past MC, Jeremiah, and Xavier.

Xavier arrives in this current timeline in year 1834. Other immortals from Philos begin to arrive in the current timeline at different points and agree upon something they call the Nonintervention Principal, likely to keep from destroying the spacetime continuum too much. What they are refusing to intervene in is unclear.

The Backtrackers made a journey through the Deepspace Tunnel with future past MC and an Aether core, but something goes wrong and she disappears. Xavier has been waiting to see her again ever since he got here, and intends to wait forever.

There are more immortals than just Xavier and Jeremiah living in Current Timeline Linkon City, some of which are very likely allied with Onychinus and searching for the MC. Why is related to the Aether core in her heart, but might also have something to do with her Evol.

It is my personal belief that many of these citizens of Philos used to be in the Backtrackers, but even if they didn't they see Xavier as a traitor to his people and more importantly to them. Why is unclear, but I imagine it might be because of their goals for the MC and her Aether core. In a broader sense it might be because they intend to do something to current earth to save their home, and Xavier disagrees with that but the two things do not seem mutually exclusive.

Earth and Philos are about to be in very close alignment, and both Xavier and Jeremiah expect something bad to happen around that time.

Final Thoughts

I would be interested in knowing the direct Chinese translation of these particular lines from precious bonfire to see if there is any difference to them... but honestly this is one of the things that sold me on him. She dies and he follows the traces of her light until he finds her again, and he tries to keep her alive but he fails and so he follows her again.

I saw at least one post wondering of Xavier will betray MC and rip the Aether core out of her heart, and I want to clear that up here. I understand why people might think this if they haven't read any of his anecdotes but no, that's not going to happen unless it's the only way to save MC's life. Xavier very much wants to keep MC alive, his efforts to distance himself and withhold information from her are always done to serve that goal.

Rafayel is the one who has a pretty good reason to want to cut out MC's heart, not Xavier. And I do mean good reason I don't really hate him for it and am not trying to imply he's a bad character or a bad romance option for it.

One of Xavier's immortal friends is name Noah. There is always a chance that this is a coincidence, but there's a part of me that wonders if he shares the same name as Dr Noah because they are the same person. The anecdote he appears in involves Xavier getting him a new identity so I don't think they're likely to be related.

I actually really like MC , Xavier, and Jeremiah's friendship and sort of hope it gets some focus in some small way in the future. Jer and Xav had to have bonded over losing MC, not to mention Jeremiah spent 200 years fighting Wanderers with MC under her command. She talks about him as being her best friend!!! I want to see more of him!!! (if he doesn't have a partner and if I can't have Tara x Jenna I should be allowed Tara x Jeremiah)

I'm worried there might be a plot point that involves Xavier dying in the future and then maybe we get to meet a different timeline version of him and end up on the opposite side of the "can't tell this ghost wearing your face how I really feel" spectrum.

Speaking of which I like how Xav seems to respect MC's current life and doesn't expect her to be a carbon copy of her past selves. It's nice (stares at critically acclaimed mmorpg villain Emet Selch)

Anyway that's it. I'll update the post when I finish the Myths card, which I fully expect to make me cry like a baby. If anything confused you my askbox is open, just because I write for twst doesn't mean I am not open to talking about this if I made mistakes or if you feel like any of this was unclear.

#love and deepspace #lad xavier #love and deepspace xavier