#ally got 200 followers
Note
Hi Ally!! (Can I call you that?)
First of all,
*ahem*
CONGRATS ON 200 FOLLOWERS WOOOOOO✨️🩷🎉
I know that every single one is deserved, and I'm proud to be one as well 😌
I saw that you were doing a lil event to celebrate, so don't mind if I do!! 👀
I'd love it if you could write some much needed luv with Brucey! I picked 25+1 + g!
Imagine that Bruce and reader are just watching the stars, maybe either in the gardens of Wayne Manor or on top of Wayne Enterprises, and all Bruce can think is how beautiful reader looks under the shinning stars 🥹
Basically, Bruce is infatuated and he's smiling like an idiot!
You can add, take away stuff as you please, of course!
I'll wait as long as you need, so no pressure!
I'm excited to see what you come up with!!!
Much love,~ Fi 🐝
"You look stunning" / "You don't look so bad yourself" + "I love you" + Stargazing x Bale!Bruce Wayne
Words: 4k words
Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, friends-to-lovers, Bruce is a big sap and he's very much in love, stargazing and talks of stars (nothing too technical). This is extremely sweet, very corny and sappy and I live for it! Written with a female reader in mind, I'm sorry but I don't yet write for GN!Reader.
A/N: First of all, thank you very very much for the kind words!! YES, you can absolutely call me Ally! Everyone can! I agree that we need some love with Bruce because this man needs happiness pleasepleaseplease...
This was my first 200 Followers Celebration entry (which is still open and you can participate!), and I'm so happy that I got to write this scenario! We don't often get to see Bale!Batman being happy, so I hope I did him justice, and I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Took me some time because I had to sort out some uni stuff, but it's done and I really had fun with it!
I hope it is to your liking!
⁽ᵃˡˢᵒ, ˢᵐᵃˡˡ ᶠᵘⁿ ᶠᵃᶜᵗ, ⁱ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵍᵒ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵃᵍᵍⁱᵉ ᵍʸˡˡᵉⁿʰᵃᵃˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ᵈⁱˢˡⁱᵏᵉ ʰᵉʳ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵛⁱᵉ ˢᵒ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ⁱ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʳᵃᶜʰᵉˡ, ⁱ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ᵖⁱᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ ᵏᵃᵗⁱᵉ ʰᵒˡᵐᵉˢ 😭⁾
Parties at Wayne Manor could be oh so dreadfully boring.
Bruce didn’t particularly enjoy them, nor did he even want to throw them, but he knew it was necessary to keep up appearances. Tonight, he celebrated his birthday.
The evening had been filled with fake smiles, polite nods, firm handshakes. “Happy birthday, Mr. Wayne”s here, “You’re looking more and more like your father each day”s there, “What a spendind party this is, Mr. Wayne!”s in the corner, and, if he was feeling particularly unlucky, a few “Ah, what a lovely Manor you have, Mr. Wayne. Such a shame you’ve been keeping its beauty from the world…”s somewhere.
He’d downed one or two glasses of champagne in a few gulps, finding it harder and harder to stand the people all around him, fake leeches who hung on his every word and command, enthralled by the promises of what his money and wealth might mean to him.
Well, all except for one.
You.
You’d been friends for a while. Bruce can’t pinpoint exactly what made him think of you as his best friend other than just a regular acquaintance, but he knew he would never give you up. You were the only person who saw him for he really was, who refused to kiss his ass and baby him, who told him things as they were instead of coddling him simply because his name implied he was to be so.
He felt disarmed when he was with you, able to say anything that went on his mind. He could be himself. Could crack terrible jokes that would have you throw pillows at his face, could drop the eccentric billionaire façade and be an annoying nerd (as you so often put it), just looking for some friendship. He could talk to you for hours on end about topics that weren’t his last name, his family, his money, or his status. He could ask you for book recommendations and be told he’d enjoy this one silly adventure book about spaceships and planes, as opposed to the boring non-fiction and autobiographies usually gifted to him, “a man of culture”.
He could ask you for good restaurants and you’d take him to small, barely noticeable cafes and places that served homemade food, instead of being offered reservations at Michelin worthy restaurants. He could be a regular person.
Every time he felt himself loose grasp of his identity when adorning the black suit, he was reminded by you of who he was. You didn’t know of his secret identity but could sense when he was particularly tired or trained and were always able to put a smile on his face and return his grip on reality.
He needed you by his side. You calmed him down. You cheered him up whenever he felt upset. You made him laugh whenever all he wanted to do was cry. You didn’t question him whenever he told you he needed space, instead providing him with just that. And as days went by, Bruce Wayne was not sure if he saw you as a mere friend anymore.
After all, friends don’t linger their gazes on each other’s lips for more time than deemed appropriate. Just friends don’t make up fake problems or fake dilemmas just to get the one to visit them (let’s be honest – “I don’t know where I put my remote” was a pretty pathetic excuse and Alfred mocked the hell out of him after you’d left).
In conclusion, he needed you. By his side, to cheer him up, to get him out of boring situations, close, smiling, laughing, happy, to hug him, to be with him, etc. He needed you.
Which was why he’d invited you to celebrate a date as important as his birthday.
Bruce never really minded his birthday. He usually spent it at work during the day, politely accepting the nice words people gave him, then got home, ate his favourite dish cooked by Alfred, and left right after to protect the city of Gotham.
But unfortunately, he just had to celebrate his birthday this year. He’d been cornered by a few Wayne Enterprises associates and tricked into throwing a hell of a party in his Manor. He just sighed and filled Alfred in on the conversation he’d had at work, instructing the older man to take care of the preparations.
And of course, he’d invited you. If there was anyone that could make this dreadful celebration just a bit more bearable, it’d be you. He invited his childhood friend Rachel Dawes as well, but she’s just announced her engagement to District Attorney Harvey Dent, and while they remained friends, he did not expect her to dedicate him all of her time (especially when everyone kept asking to see her ring and tell the wonderful story of how they met).
But the problem was, you were nowhere to be found.
He knew you had arrived, Alfred had told him so, but just as he was about to chase you down the huge area that served as a ballroom, he was interrupted by a few family friends. Seeing as these were some of the few families that were in genuine good terms with his parents, and not simply greedy leeches, he decided to chat with them, smiling genuinely at their compliments and quips.
But now it’d been a few hours, and he couldn’t find you. And the combination of all of the unwanted people, the general chatter, and the lack of the one person he wanted by his side were getting to his head. And perhaps the champagne as well, even though he hadn’t drunk nearly enough to be the slightest of tipsy. What if Gotham needed him?
“Ma’am, I’m sure your quest for the very much secret next Fabergé Egg is quite intriguing, but I have a few guests I need to tend to. Everyone wants a piece of the host, what can I say? Birthday boy privileges.” He charmed the woman with one of his most dazzling smiles and pried away from her gloved grip, looking around for his knight in black and white armour.
Quickly replying to every guest that throwed a comment his way, he reached Alfred, who was standing in the corner of the room, silently accessing the party.
“Another useless conversation with any of these bloodsucking idiots and I’m killing myself,” he muttered, grabbing a champagne flute from a passing maid, and chugging the whole thing in one go.
“And here I was thinking you’d probably die at the hands of some unruly criminal, wearing the cape and cowl. All that training and fighting in some remote location only for you to die at the hands of Gotham’s wealthiest?” Alfred said, his voice laced with sarcasm and brow quirked up.
“Well Alfred, get me out of this and I might just be able to die the way you envisioned me doing so.”
“By my hand, Master Wayne?”
“Exactly.”
The two men chuckled, and Bruce took another look around the room, before turning to his butler.
“Have you seen – “
“In the gardens.”
Bruce was halfway across the ballroom, shouting “Thank you!” before Alfred could say anything else.
It took a while for him to find you.
After all, the gardens were filled with people talking, catching up, and the occasional couple slobbering all over each other’s mouths, apologizing profusely once they saw the Manor’s owner stride past them.
“Bruce?”
He turned around and was met with Rachel’s smiling face.
“Running off so soon?” she asked, Harvey Dent’s unmistakable figure walking up next to her right after.
“Yes, well, one can only get so much attention before they start getting bored of it.”
Rachel gave him a sympathetic look, and shook her head, nudging it towards Harvey.
“You don’t have to pretend with us.”
With these words, a weight was lifted off Bruce’s shoulders. His posture wasn’t perfect anymore, and the charming, cocky smile left his lips.
“If I have to talk to one more person who wishes to know who the hell decorated the living room…” Bruce sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his fingers.
“I get it,” Harvey said, shaking his head. “If only people were interested in something other than how much I spent on Rachel’s ring, I’d feel more inclined to interact with them.”
Bruce nodded and smiled in understanding, before looking around. He thought he’d glanced at a very familiar face, but unfortunately, it wasn’t you.
“Looking for someone?” Rachel asked with a knowing smile.
“Yeah, actually, have you seen – “
“She was near the apple tree in the back.”
“Thank you.” Bruce nodded and all but sprinted towards the place, leaving Rachel to giggle with a rather confused Harvey.
“Who’s he talking about?” he asked.
“A “friend” of his,” Rachel replied nonchalantly.
“He seemed rather eager to see this friend of his. Surely that’s not all there is to her.” He chuckled; brow quirked up.
“And that, Harvey, is what everyone else but the two of them have figured out.”
Bruce did not hear what his friend had said, but if he did, he’d have gently corrected her.
Because he had, in fact, figured out whatever he felt about you.
Mostly.
He knew he liked you, that’s for sure.
He liked your smile. He liked your personality. He liked how your nose wrinkled up whenever you were cooking. He liked how your eyes sparkled whenever he gifted you a new volume of a book series you’d been collecting, or the way your laughter resonated across the Manor whenever you beat him at videogames. He liked how you always stopped to pet cats and dogs on the street, and how you made funny faces at babies in the supermarket.
He liked how his Manor, although big and empty, seemed full of life with you in it. Even if you were cuddled up on one of his couches, watching a movie, he always thought of it was warmer and more inviting just from your mere presence. He liked it when you massaged his head, thumbs circling his forehead so gently that he often found himself falling asleep in your lap. He liked your touch – found it addictive. Pulling you close to him on the street to protect you from traffic, hugging you every time he saw you, having you throw fake punches at him whenever he told a terrible joke.
He likes you. That much is clear.
But why was it so damn hard admitting that to you?
His steps slowed down as he approached a very familiar apple tree. Wayne Manor had plenty of beautiful plants and trees, much more so than this one. But there was something about it that always caught your eye. Not to mention, it was near a secluded area of the gardens, and you had always been fond of hiding in there. “It makes me feel at peace”, you told him.
Sure enough, that’s where he found you. Staring at the night sky, pretty locks of hair carefully styled with a few flower clips, hands resting one on top of the other behind your back.
You turned to him, shaken up by the sound of footsteps, and he took you in.
And, wow.
To say you looked beautiful would’ve been a crime - such a word couldn’t do you justice.
You wore a sparkly silver gown that pooled softly at your feet, your form modestly accentuated. Two silver straps held it at the front, coming together in a flattering cleavage. Your back was on display, and Bruce had to control himself not to touch it with his bare hands. You looked lovely, your silhouette shining beneath the stars. Their gentle glow was casting a perfect light on you, making you look even more like the celestial bodies you were admiring.
“Bruce?” you asked, tilting your head slightly.
Bruce shook his head, grounding himself.
“Yes. Hey – hey.”
“Cat got your tongue? I said happy birthday,” you smiled and walked up to him, silver dress twinkling with each step you took.
It was as if all of you were made of pure, sheer, dazzling starlight.
“Won’t your guests miss you?”
Bruce approached you halfway and gave you a shrug.
“Probably. Doesn’t mean I’m going to miss them.” This earned a smile from you, and Bruce found himself smiling too. His gaze lingered on your face for a while, before descending once more and taking your lovely figure in again.
“You look stunning,” he said, and you seemed to blossom at his praise.
“Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.” And he didn’t. With his black tux and matching bow, he was the picture of elegance and charm. And that disarmingly charismatic smile of his was helping him a long way. There was a reason of course, women fawned over his good looks.
“What are you doing out here?” Bruce asked nodding his head towards the night sky, the one you had been looking at.
“I couldn’t take it in there anymore. It was way too loud, and everyone was way too fake,” you rolled your eyes and sighed. “And the sky is looking far too beautiful tonight. At least here I won’t be disturbed.”
“Well, I did just disturb you, so I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
“I wouldn’t call it disturbing. Your presence is always welcome.”
For a while, the two of you stood side by side, just watching as the sky glittered above. It was peaceful and quiet, and everything Bruce had wanted for his birthday. A nice, uneventful evening with you by his side.
“I can’t believe you can actually see the stars tonight,” Bruce mumbled, genuinely impressed. Usually, as the industrial and active city it was, one never got to see the stars thanks to smoke, lights, or other manmade obstacles. But tonight, the sky was clear and bright, and no clouds were in sight.
“Right?” you smiled, pointing at the sky above you. “Look over there – see that one?”
“Which?” Bruce squinted.
“That one – the kyte.”
“Ah. Yes. I do.”
“That’s the Big Dipper.”
“And the other one next to it?”
“That’s the Small Dipper. Can you see that bright star at the end of it?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s Polaris, the Polar Star. It’s supposedly the brightest star in the night sky.”
“I can think of something brighter,” he muttered stealing a glance at you.
You leaned against him and spoke of constellations and stars to him. Told him the myths that surrounded each one, how far they were from the Earth, how they’d come to be discovered. The party had been long forgotten by the two of you, and after a few minutes of discussing each constellation and their origin, you fell into a comfortable silence, just happy to listen to the happy sounds of crickets and the soft wind brushing against the trees.
“I got you something,” you said, breaking the silence after a while.
He turned to you as you opened your purse and pulled out a small, rectangular object carefully wrapped in golden wrapping paper.
“I know it’s not much – “
“[Y/N]”
“Shush! I know it’s not much, but I worked hard to find it.”
You handed him the small package and he was careful to not rip the whole thing open. Bruce carefully removed a book from inside, and his eyes widened.
“The Great Gatsby?”
“Open it.”
He did, and his eyebrows nearly rose to his hairline.
“Is this?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you sure?”
“Mhm.”
Bruce carefully touched the inked paper, eyes going over F. Scott Fitzgerald’s words over and over again.
“Where’d you find this?” he asked with a smile.
“That’s a secret. But it’s been quality checked a few times, and I can guarantee it’s the real deal.”
“So, with “It’s not much”, you meant you were giving me a signed copy of The Great Gatsby?”
“You deserve more than that, Bruce.”
In a heartbeat, he had embraced you tightly. You rested your head in the crook of his neck, standing on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around him. Overcome with joy, Bruce spun you around once your twice, and you laughed loudly, holding onto him for dear life.
“Be careful Bruce – shit, don’t drop me!” You protested in between giggles.
Bruce came to a stop, and looked right into your eyes, the world’s biggest grin playing on his lips. It’d been a while since you’ve seen him laugh so freely. Such occurrences were rare – Bruce wasn’t one to smile, not really. But when he did, it was a lovely thing. Not one of his fake smiles, the ones practiced in front of a mirror to impress rich folks and Gotham socialites – the real ones, the ones he gave you in special, true moments like these.
You’d do anything to see him smile like this more often.
“I’d never drop you,” his voice dropped to a whisper, and he swore he could see one hundred stars in the spark of your eyes. In fact, the stars in the sky did not hold a candle to your beauty, no celestial body would ever be more fascinating than your eyes. He was sure astronauts had to be wrong – how did they want to explore the galaxy, when there was one right here, staring into him?
“I know,” you whispered back, hands still on his chest. “I trust you.”
He waited for a minute, eyeing the contours of your face, memorising the way your mouth parted and how soft strands of hair fell on top of your forehead. You stood still, still observing the smile that never left his lips.
“Do you?” He broke the silence.
“Hm?”
“Trust me.”
“Of course I do. I’ll always trust you.”
“Promise?”
“Promise, Bruce. Always.”
“Please remember those words after I do what I’m about to do.” He chuckled and leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a silent request. Your breath hitched and you looked up at him, to find his eyes closed. You were inches away from him, and yet, he refused to move any further.
“Tell me it’s not just me,” he whispered. You could feel his warm breath on your skin, and it sent goosebumps all over your body. “Tell me the way I feel about you is not one-sided. But if it is – “ and you swore you felt him tense, “I’ll leave it alone. We’ll forget this ever happened; we’ll go back to being friends. But please, just tell me.”
You took shaky breaths, still feeling dazed from being so close to him.
Bruce remained with his eyes closed – he didn’t have it in himself to look at you, not right now. He was far too scared of what he might find in your eyes. Regret, disgust, hate. He couldn’t deal with it.
But the worst thing was the silence. Weren’t you going to say something? Were you going to taunt him forever? He could feel your body against his hands, soft skin sending shivers down his spine, so he knew you hadn’t left yet. Why weren’t you replying?
He got his answer when you pressed closer against him, and he felt your lips on his.
Bruce had fantasised about how his first kiss with you would be, but nothing prepared him for this moment. It was as if you were made for him, slotting perfectly against your body, hands on the small of your back, bringing you closer while your hands rested on his cheeks. Your lips moved in unison, as if speaking a language of their own, and Bruce felt slightly lightheaded.
You tasted sweet – probably from the chocolate covered strawberries you’d no doubt been stealing inside, and wanted to savour them, savour you, for as long as he could.
When you two parted for air, he pressed his forehead against yours, finally opening his eyes. The view was breathtaking; your lips were puffy and parted, your eyes were big and wide, pupils dilated and sparkling in the moonlight. Bruce swore you’d never been so beautiful.
And then he smiled, widely, and burst into chuckles like a lovesick teenager.
“You look beautiful. Have I told you this yet?”
“You have,” you replied, caressing the skin of his cheek. He leaned into your touch, pressing a tender kiss on your palm. “You do too. I love to see you smiling. You should smile more often.”
“Like this?” he asked, pointing at his grin.
“Yes – exactly like that. I could see you smiling more often. And I bet Alfred could too.”
Bruce grinned and kissed your forehead. After, he kissed each of your cheeks, and then the palm of your hand, and then the back.
“As long as you’re by my side, I’m sure I’ll smile much more often.” He confesses.
“Well,” you brought his body closer to you, and all Bruce could think of was how stunning you were, how beautiful you looked, how lucky he was to hold a star in his hands. “I don’t plan on leaving, Birthday Boy.”
It was so uncharacteristic of him. He never smiled this often, and certainly, never for this long, but Bruce couldn’t help it. He was happy. He had you, right there and then with him. Everything was well – more than well, everything was perfect. So why wouldn’t he smile?
His heart was getting fuller and fuller, and he blurted out the next words, without giving them much thought.
“I love you.”
You stared at him, eyes wide, surprise written all over your face.
And Bruce kept speaking, because for once, he was not at a loss for words, he knew exactly what to say.
“I think I’ve loved you ever since I first saw you. I love you and the way you brighten my days and make me feel like something when I can barely get out of bed. I love how you always manage to pick up the pieces whenever I’m shattered and never make me feel responsible for it. I love you. I love your beautiful face, your bright mind, your kind soul, your feisty spirit. I love you – I think I have for a long time, but I’ve never had the courage to tell you. But tonight – this party – you – it's made me realise something. This is Gotham. I could wake up tomorrow, and you’d be gone. I’d be gone. Anything could happen in this city. And I can’t let them happen without you knowing how I feel about you. I’m not expecting an answer back; I know this is a lot of information. And I know I come with a lot of baggage. There’s a lot about me you don’t know, and I haven’t told people to keep them away and keep them safe. But, if you’ll have me, I promise to spend the rest of my days making it all worth it. I will love you and take care of you forever, I promise. I love you, [Y/N].”
You looked at him, and Bruce saw your eyes sparkle with unshed tears. Had he scared you off? Were you upset? He reached out to hold your face, ready to wipe the tears away should they fall.
“I’m sorry. That was too much, wasn’t it?”
“I… I think I love you too.” You replied. The tears did not roll very far down your face, because Bruce was there to wipe them away. And in that moment, you knew he would always be there, be it to catch you, or wipe away your tears, or hold you close. “I really do.”
Bruce’s smile only widened, and he picked you up once again, spinning you around in the darkness of the garden. Your dress floated around you, like a shooting star’s trail, and he laughed loudly. He hadn’t felt this happy, truly happy in a big while. You joined him in laughter, and he put you down carefully.
“Thank you.”
You raised an eyebrow.
“For what?”
“For the perfect birthday gift.” Bruce bent down to capture your lips once more, and stare into your eyes. “You look like starlight tonight. You look perfect. And I’m the luckiest man in the world.” He smiled and kissed you again, because the stars were shining, and you looked beautiful, and his heart was full.
Bruce Wayne didn’t smile very often. But how could he not, when you rivalled the stars up above, and were his, and made his heart burst with joy?
A/N: And that's it! I hope you guys liked it! I'm afraid it was a tiny bit rushed - please do tell if it was. I hope it lived up to the expectations!
Thank you very much for reading, and I hope you have an amazing day ahead!
#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne x y/n#bruce wayne x you#bale!bruce wayne#bale!batman x reader#bale!batman#bale!bruce wayne x reader#the dark knight#the dark knight trilogy#nolanverse#the dark knight fanfiction#nolanverse fanfiction#bruce wayne fanfiction#batman fanfiction#batman x reader#batman x fem!reader#bruce wayne x fem!reader
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“hold the line,” a familiar pfp on your dashboard declares. it’s a mutual. you don’t remember when you’ve followed them, you don’t remember when they’ve followed you, because they’ve always been there. you know their blorbo through osmosis, you know who they’ll campaign for. it’s a constant in mcytblr.
“hold the line,” you echo back, fingers trembling as you press the reddit app and carefully place a pixel. kermitcraft is now back to hermitcraft. good grief. the joke stopped being funny ages ago.
“vote for quackity!” “let’s go quackity let’s go!” you go back to tumblr. it’s 50/50. you watch with dazed eyes as the numbers change— 200, 45, 19, 8. they mean nothing, they mean everything. the thin line between grian and quackity fluctuates. your heart thumps, tense and anxious.
“hold the line!”
a ping from your discord, from your comrades in the r/hermitcraft server. not the lime green gme line starting up shit again. with a resigned sigh, you push the gme pixels back to their side.
“hold the line!”
the joehills stans are back. you voted for him in the first hour. you dutifully reblog the propaganda posts anyway. joe has lime green glasses. the gme line is lime green. refresh the stats page. still 50/50. hold the line.
“hold the line!”
oh god, not rogues on r/place. “please,” someone sobs, “we need to maintain peace with our biggest ally brasil.” we cannot afford another crisis. we must remain diplomatic. “HOLD THE LINE!” you blare into your microphone with a resounding @/everyone discord ping. we’ve got to keep our own people in check.
“hold the line!”
scar and techno’s fandoms are rallying. 20k votes, 30k votes, 40k votes. they rise to dizzying heights. another 50/50. there’s a spreadsheet. there’s fanart. there’s fanfic. your dash is in chaos. hold the line.
“hold the line!”
not the reddit void attacking, it creeps over and suffocates your pixels. regroup, rebuild, reapply the blush. it’s day three on r/place and it feels like forever. you’re obsessed. you’re getting too attached.
“hold the line!”
it’s the final minute. grian and quackity are trembling. messages fly by in your discord server as the countdown truly begins. it’s a reverse sweep, an underdog down to the very last second. we are in the metaphorical trenches. honourable allies, honourable enemies.
“hold the line!”
the gme line is our friend now, helping to maintain a sense of structure and stability after the void’s attack. the lime line is decorated with two nether portals. it’s cute. once upon a time, you hated those lime pixels. now, it’s your turn the place them.
“HOLD THE LINE!”
it comes from various people on your dash, text posts melting into one. time is ticking and running out. people are desperate jubilant relieved tense obsessed emotional joyous defeated victorious. we’ve lost track of the days and nights. new accounts flood in. they say the end is coming.
there’s a break.
the canvas expands again.
the fandom regroups.
there’s a break.
new colours are added, a beautiful collision of vibrancy.
(somewhere, someone posts their 8th picture of themselves as their sexyman campaign.)
(somewhere, someone adds a pixel of blush to a beloved mural.)
they say the end is coming. we’re exhausted, energised, exhilarated. so when someone says,
“hold the line—“
you hold onto it. grip onto it with your fingers, knuckles bleeding from countless cactus circles.
you hold the damn line.
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Spring | JJK
Hello darlings!!!
Pairing: royal guard!Jungkook x princess!Reader, prince!Jimin x princess!Reader (ft. Yoongi & Hoseok)
Summary: In which you, princess of the Gyeongdong Dynasty, were in the middle of wedding plans. An arranged marriage that would guarantee your father's bloodline to stay on the throne.
Or in which you are assigned a new royal guard that swore to protect you with his life. Jeon Jungkook. That's his name. A name you could never forget. A name that, slowly but surely got engraved not only in your memories but also in your heart.
Love, politics, betrayal and desire. All in ancient history. A love that never should have happened, two souls that wouldn't be allowed to be together.
Warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of past life, reincarnation! AU, implied soulmate! AU, flashbacks, ft. Yoongi and Hoseok, modern! AU, lost love, yearning, strangers to lovers???, all the feels, crying, there's a kiss, sweet and soft koo, hurt/comfort, (let me know if I missed anything!)
Word Count: 10.4 k
A/N: Hello, darlings! Welcome the the finale of "Four Seasons"! I know you guys have waited a looong time for this part to come out but it is finally here so let's see how Jungkook and our Princess will end their love story!
This whole story was highly inspired by "Moon Lovers" and the ending it should have had, (in my humble opinion). I included different scenes of other movies/shows/dramas that I liked with the hope you will like it as well.
Also thank you guys so much for 200 followers! Take this as my thank you gift, darlings!
Thank you so much for all the love this series got and thank you for sticking up with me to see the end of this journey and hopefully the beginning of many more! Please let me know your thoughts in the comments, darlings! Happy reading, everyone!
💜 Boraghae ARMY 💜
~Taglist for Four Season: @valhallawhispers @lovingkoalaface @seokout @ackercute @jksusawife
~Tagging people who were waiting for the finale (I apologise if you didn't want to be tagged) @jjanjankook @junghoseok07 @vminkookgf @allie-is-a-panda
We have lived through centuries, carrying many lives, carrying many deaths. Carrying a world only remembered by our pure soul.
Jungkook opened his eyes, it was still dark outside. He sighed, reaching over his nightstand and picking up his phone. His eyes burned with the sudden light coming from the small device as he turned off his morning alarm.
The phone rested on his chest as he hesitated whether to get up and go to work or probably call sick today once more. Yet a sudden weight getting on the bed made him sigh once more. His other hand blindly searched for his large and sweet dog to pet him lazily while remembering Bam was running out of food and he needed to buy another bag, that meant he had to go to work once more.
With a soft groan, he sat on the bed, searching for his slippers before he stood up and walked out of the bedroom with Bam hot on his heels.
The sun was barely out yet the sky was already painted in beautiful hues of blue and orange. Decorated with the soft looking clouds that seemed to have been delicate brushes over a painting in the museum Jungkook worked at.
Loneliness encapsulated Jungkook's heart as he gazed at the beautiful sky, he almost felt as if there was something missing in his life or rather, someone. He felt empty, divided and there was nothing that could fill that void in his soul.
He tried getting into cooking, but the soft ache was always there. Working out was the solution for some time but as soon as he was back home, that melancholy drowned his soul once more. It made him ache, dream and yearn for something he didn't even know what it was but he felt like he needed it to survive.
Spring had arrived a couple of weeks ago, the trees were blooming with beautiful pink flowers and the petals fell on the ground softly, creating an enchanting path to walk by. The parks were full of greenery and the birds began to sing after the crude winter. Warmer days were to come.
Jungkook found himself walking through the same streets like every morning to get to his full-time job. He walked monotonously, his earpods on only to stop people from talking to him, not that it had happened many times but there was something about today that he didn't wish to interact with people. The least he did it, the better.
No music filled his ears, the walk was monotonous; monochrome even. Without an ounce of colour in his life even when spring was flourishing around him.
However, the sudden smell of fresh roses invaded his senses and he was pulled back from his mind and looked around the crowd that walked alongside him but were unaware of his mundane existence.
Many people surrounded him. Many people continued their paths while he stood rooted to the ground. The scent so soft and calming it made his heart skip a beat without thinking about it. But the feeling was lost before he could fully grasp it. Something clawed at his heart to search for such a unique scent, to go after the person who owned it but the idea dissipated from his mind like fog in a spring morning as someone bumped his shoulder softly and Jungkook was forced to continue moving with the crowd who carried him away of his very first taste of spring.
You stared out of the window of your car, your chin rested over your knuckles as you lost yourself in your thoughts. You noticed the beautiful cherry blossoms have already bloomed, spring has arrived sooner than you thought. But despite the mesmerising view outside of your car, you felt nothing about the pink petals that signalled a new season has started.
Almost as if your heart was frozen. Many called you that. Ice Queen. For people have rarely ever seen you smile. As if it was physically harmful for you to do so. The public always had its eye on you given that you were the only and beautiful daughter of a very important politician, your life was surely of entertainment to the media.
"Did you check the files I sent you yesterday?"
Hoseok, your best friend and personal assistant, spoke next to you. His voice brought you back from your thoughts. You turned to look at him with that emotionless expression he had already gotten used to as you spoke with a dry voice.
"Of course. If I'm going to buy something, I inform myself well, Hoseok. You already know the drill."
He sighed, opening his phone as he checked a new message from your father.
"Is there anything that caught your eye?"
You took a deep breath, your fingers playing with the bracelet you never took off as you spoke with that same bored tone he honestly hated in you. Not because Hoseok had come to terms with it meant he liked it. He had once heard your beautiful laughter. Your precious smile was enough to illuminate a whole room. But that had been long ago. Many years had passed since those golden days. Days when you didn't have responsibilities, when there were no explicit expectations. Days when you both were only children.
"I want to see the paintings. The Gyeongdong Dynasty is known for their magnificent art but I won't be convinced until I see such art pieces with my own eyes."
Hoseok sighed yet again. If he got a dollar for every time he sighed these days he'd already be rich.
"Stubborn as ever."
He muttered under his breath and you turned around to look out of the window, hiding the minuscule smirk that threatened to break over your cherry red lips.
The car stopped in front of the Leeum Museum. You looked at the building, hearing how Hoseok stepped out of the car, just as your driver. Your best friend walked around the car and opened the door for you. With graceful movements you stepped out as well and stood tall on your ground as Hoseok closed the door behind you.
"I'll call you when we’ll be getting back."
Hoseok spoke to the driver, the older man bowed down at you both before he got in the car again and drove off. You stood in front of the museum, admiring the beautiful architecture. Soft wind made your hair fly slightly as you began walking to the castle of arts with Hoseok trailing behind you.
A sudden melancholy filled your heart with each step you took towards the building. As if you had been missing something and were only about to find it. It clawed at your heart and you shuddered at the feeling. Suppressing it as the double doors opened for you and you entered the elegant and modern museum, wanting to stay and leave at the same time.
"Today Miss Lee will be visiting us for her purchase, Jungkook."
Yoongi spoke as he leaned back on his office chair while twirling a pen between his fingers. Jungkook nodded, hands clasped in front of him as he listened attentively.
"She is an extremely special client, one of our main buyers. I am trusting you to tend to her every need. Don't mess with her. Let her roam around and when she decides what artefact she'd want to buy, bring her here. I'll sign the paperwork."
Jungkook looked at his boss and friend with curiosity in his big doe eyes.
"Is there anything specific I should know about her?"
Yoongi sighed deeply, twirling his chair a bit to the right as he looked outside the beautiful gardens of the elegant museum.
"You really don't follow the media, do you? Miss Lee (y/n) is known to have a very difficult temper. She has never been seen smiling and her attitude is as cold as ice, according to netizens. Don't follow her too closely, don't even look her in the eyes. We can't lose such an important purchaser as her."
"I understand."
Jungkook reassured with firmness in his voice, feeling something oddly familiar at the mention of the stoic woman's name. Something within himself he wasn't quick enough to grasp.
"You may go, she is expected to arrive any minute now."
The younger man nodded, bowing softly before he left the classy and minimalist office. Jungkook descended the marble staircase that led to the offices above only to come face to face with Jung Hoseok himself.
"Mr. Jung."
He acknowledged. Hoseok turned to look at Jungkook before a warm smile appeared on his delicate and beautiful features.
"Ah, you must be Jeon Jungkook, right?"
The latter nodded, extending his right hand forward. Hoseok shook his hand firmly before the both men began walking back to the gallery.
"I apologise. I wasn't notified when Miss Lee arrived. I'd like to introduce myself to her."
Jungkook spoke with professionalism in his deep voice. Silently earning Hoseok's silent approval about the younger man.
"Of course. I left her in the ancient relics hall. Let's go there, shall we?"
You had ventured on your own when Hoseok left you to search for the man who was going to accompany you and assess you in your purchase. You didn't pay him much thought as he disappeared around the corner, leaving you alone in the large and beautiful house of arts.
Your feet carried you through the halls, your heels clicking in the marble floors and echoing among the walls that told centuries of history.
The exhibition of the Gyeongdong Dynasty was one the public have been waiting for a long time now. Curious as ever as to what item were you to purchase as preservation of cultural treasure as per your father's own political project.
There was something terribly familiar about the artefacts you saw kept in glass boxes. Historical treasures were kept intact, there was jewellery from noble families and even the royal families of the dynasty that were managed to be restored.
Paintings, clothes, old parchments, vases and even toys were all around the place. You walked over to the hallway where the artefacts of the royal families were kept. Ignoring the heaviness in your steps, the sourness in your heart, the odd feelings that clawed at your heart.
A big glass wall allowed you to witness the mesmerising view of the gardens, cherry blossoms in all their resplandor bloomed at the very background, pink petals decorated the outer grounds and a small fountain was at the centre of the small yet lovely garden that you felt a sudden urge to go to.
You watched it in silence. The soft and pink petals falling behind you with delicate motions. Spring had arrived. But your heart was frozen. Cold as it missed something you yearned for yet didn't know what it was or how to find it. An empty feeling that had lived within you for as long as you can remember.
With a sigh, you forced yourself to avert your eyes from the garden and focus back on the artefacts around the big room. You watched replicas of the dynasty's royal robes. A dress colour orange picked your attention the most, perhaps for its intriguing details or beautiful tailoring. Maybe because of the extravagant colour but you found yourself staring at it for quite some time. A heaviness weighing your heart down as you forced yourself to move forward from the dress you knew once belonged to a princess.
You passed the row of robes and dresses in glass cages, focusing on the paintings hanging on the walls with their respective description below.
First family of the Gyeongdong Dynasty.
Second family of the Gyeongdong Dynasty.
Third family of the Gyeongdong Dynasty.
And so on. It was mostly a man and a woman in the painting, some had children others did not. And you guessed they were the kings and queens of the long lost dynasty that brought the land to prosperity before the Goryeo dynasty started.
You stopped in front of a painting of a man and a woman, both quite beautiful in the art piece. The woman in the painting was holding a baby in her arms and you couldn't help but tilt your head slightly at the strange familiarity you felt towards the beautiful portrait.
There were no names of the people in the painting, the Gyeongdong Dynasty had suffered quite the loss of information when the palace caught fire during the last family of the bloodline. However, you couldn't stop staring at the woman in the portrait. You didn't know why, but it almost felt as if you were watching yourself in a mirror.
You felt as if you resembled her, as if your soul recognised her even when you hadn't seen such a portrait before. The man however made you nostalgic over their sad story.
According to the description of the painting, the man and the woman were married and had a son but she had died of a heart disease. He never remarried and historians said the queen was deeply loved by her husband.
The more you looked at the painting, the heavier your heart felt. It was a family portrait. A family portrait that told a sad story. It made your heart clench in your chest and you took a step back, as if the painting was cursed by the heavens and you had to walk away from it.
Perhaps you needed to stop taking that herbal tea Hoseok always pestered you to drink on an empty stomach.
You felt your stomach sink when you saw the next painting. You recognised the man from the last portrait. The young king. His queen was by his side in the large throne hall and all the officers stood in front of the throne in line. You saw a man, standing next to the queen that wore dark robes and had rough and large hands clasped in front of him.
It felt as if you were dreaming. Watching a movie or remembering something you had forgotten as images flooded in your mind and you found yourself drowning in the violent waters that was the mind.
---
A soft smile was plastered over your features while still facing him. However, he ignored what you said and commented, his voice a bit more distant than before.
"You will trip if you walk like that."
It was a statement rather than a possibility and that had you frowning up at him. If he was going to be like this then your little trips to the city and nearby villages were going to be a bit dull, at least until you got to your desired destination.
"I won't! I don't lik-"
But your sentence got cut off when, just as he predicted, you tripped with a small rock. You gasped when you felt your body being pulled down to the ground by gravity, the heavy skirts of your dress not allowing you to gain back your footing.
It was only when you felt a firm hand grasping yours and a pull over your body when you were back on your feet.
"I told you you would trip over."
Officer Jeon said, his voice cold and distant but you were able to catch a tinge of humour behind his words. A soft blush painted your cheeks when you realised he was still holding your hand in his surprisingly warm one.
Out of a sudden you felt shy, retrieving your hand from his grasp and taking a couple of steps away from him as you hadn't noticed just how close the two of you were a mere second ago.
"That... that was- it wouldn't... aish. I don't like for people to walk behind me, I feel like I'm being followed. Just... just do me the favour, could you? Just walk next to me, I promise you won't get in trouble."
He sighed, looking around before agreeing with a silent nod.
"And, thanks by the way. For not letting me fall down."
He bowed slightly, the both of you continuing your path down to the city.
"I was just doing my work, Princess."
You had to bite down on your lip to keep the smile from shining all over your face. He indeed took that vow to heart. You thought. Looking up at him, you noticed just how handsome your personal guard was and a warm sensation spread all over your body.
"So... tell me. What's your name? How would you like me to call you?"
Your question made him look down at you for a split second but you continued to watch him with curiosity. If he was going to always be with you, at least you could be friends?
"I am the First Officer of the Royal Guards, Jeon Jungkook. You can call me as you please, My Lady."
Jeon Jungkook.
---
"Thank you for coming with me to the city."
He bowed down at you, not saying a word. When he straightened back up he was met with the sight of you holding a small bag towards him.
"You can have them, you looked like you wanted some of them. I won't be able to finish them all anyway."
Jungkook took the bag from your hand hesitantly, his fingers brushing yours for a split second before the contact was broken.
"I appreciate your generosity, Princess. Rest well."
You smiled a little wider at him, your hands clasping in front of you.
"You rest as well, Jungkook."
With that being said you entered your room, sliding the door shut. Only when Jungkook saw that you had closed the door did he begin walking back to his own room.
---
"You have good skills but your posture can be improved."
At Jungkook's words you lifted your gaze, meeting his dark brown eyes with your own once more. He gestured towards your bow with his chin and asked, his voice gentle like a summer breeze.
"May I?"
You nodded, handing him your bow. The warmth of his fingers brushed yours and you had to bite back a smile. He crouched down and picked up the arrow that had fallen from your grasp a moment ago.
Jungkook positioned himself and you watched his every move.
"You are too tense while holding the bow, if your hold is firm but at the same time gentle it will give you stability."
You listened carefully to his explanations as your eyes were glued to him and for the first time since he became your personal guard were you able to admire him. Properly admire him.
Your gaze landed on his focused face, on how his eyes were put on the target mark and nothing else. Then, you travelled to his lips and marvelled on the way he was pulling back the arrow until it touched the corner of his lips softly. His jawline was defined as if it had been sculpted by the gods.
His broad shoulders carried years of training and you could see how his muscles could be traced even with more than one layer of clothing. His veiny hands held the bow and the arrow with expertise and you found yourself trapped in a trance in which only Jungkook existed.
He fired the arrow, hitting the target in its centre. You looked amazed at the clean shot he did and he commented, giving you back your bow.
"Would you like to try again, Princess?"
You nodded and took the bow. Jungkook walked where the rest of the arrows were and picked one up. He handed it to you and you took it softly from his grasp. You positioned the arrow and prepared yourself to shoot.
You silently gasped when you felt a large hand over your left one, the one holding the bow and it took you less than a second to realise it was Jungkook who was guiding you. You smelled his scent from behind you and felt the light pressure of his body at your back but it wasn't uncomfortable, on the contrary, you felt safe being this close to him. It was... Soothing, to say the least.
"You need to relax your hand a bit more."
Following his instructions, he smiled.
"Good, now take a deep breath. Straighten up a bit more and concentrate."
You did as you were told, closing your eyes and relishing in the comfort Jungkook provided. The warm feeling of his hand over yours was nearly overwhelming. The moment you opened your eyes again, the only thing you could focus on was the target. Letting go of the arrow, it travelled through the air with a mute noise and landed directly on the mark.
A gasp left your lips and Jungkook let go of your hand just as you turned around and looked up at him. Your smile showed pure happiness, a happiness he was responsible for and for some reason, that settled a spark of proudness in his chest.
---
"I care for you, Princess."
You closed your eyes, letting the tears fall freely down your cheeks.
"You can't."
Whispered words reached his ears. Making his heart shake with the need to hold you, promise you that it was going to be alright.
"But I do."
You opened your eyes, looking at Jungkook through blurry vision. His eyes were filled with tears and you felt an ache in your heart at the sight of his tears.
"You weren't supposed to. You were only meant to protect me, Jungkook. That's it, nothing else."
He sighed, his eyes lowering to your trembling hands resting on your lap. He had a sudden urge to hold them. To hold you. To comfort you.
"I know. Love is blind, Princess. No-one gets to choose."
---
Your eyes were locked with his, not daring to break the eye contact that was grounding your thoughts, in a way at least.
"I'm begging you to put yourself in my shoes, it is not correct for me to write to you in such a way. Your fiancé is in the palace and you could get in trouble if someone finds out."
The way he said "you could get in trouble" not "me", not "we". It was you who he was worried about. His heart feared for you and the fact of such care brought tears to your eyes.
"It is not appropriate, Your Highness."
He bowed slightly at you, a lump forming in your throat as realisation hit you. You were losing him. You were losing the only man who could ever own your heart. The man you cared for over everyone else. The man you loved. You were losing your Jungkook but, was he really yours to begin with?
You could never claim yourself as his so no, he wasn't yours. He wasn't yours to love and care, he wasn't yours to be with you out of what was needed to be.
You took a deep breath, holding your head high and swallowing the lump in your throat. You were never going to say you loved him, you weren't going to put yourself in such pain. You didn't want his pity. The misery it'd come afterwards.
"You are right,"
This time, Jungkook flinched at your tone. Your words were void of any emotion, a sound that he used to know was as warm like the summer days felt now cold like winter.
"it is not right for us to write to each other. It will not happen again."
Even though that was what his mind desired for you to say, his heart hurt at your words. As if someone had just stabbed him directly in the heart. Your words had such an impact on him. Not because you were the Crown Princess but because he loved you. He loved you with all his body, soul and mind. He loved you more than love itself. But he knew the cruel reality. Jungkook knew that you both could never be together.
---
"Yes. You?"
He nodded. Not hearing the commotion from before. The intruders had been defeated by the remaining palace guards. He could hear Yoongi talking to the king about investigating the bloodbath that had just occurred in the throne room.
Jungkook looked down at you. The hand that once rested on your shoulder travelled down your arm until his fingers locked with yours, holding your hand and giving it a firm squeeze in reassurance.
But the moment was short-lived. The moment in which you lost yourself in his dark orbs and relished in the feeling of his touch as innocent and reassuring as was to hold your hand.
You saw, in a matter of milliseconds how his eyes shifted from you to something standing behind you. His sword clanked to the floor and his hand left yours, leaving it cold once more. You suddenly found yourself in his arms as he twisted you both. Being him who's back faced the entrance way.
You gasped at the motion. But nothing could have been worse than the pained groan he let out a mere second after he spun you around.
Tears gathered in your eyes when you saw one of the remaining intruders holding a bow, pointing it at you. Your eyes widened when you saw an arrow had pierced him on the back.
"Jungkook!"
He began to slump forward and you did your best to ease his fall. The hand that held the bow you had used to defend yourself clattered to the floor as you knelt on the ground, while Jungkook nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck.
Jimin, who stood next to the entrance way, had seen everything unfold before his eyes. He was quick to run towards the last intruder and kill him with his own sword before he turned back to you and watched how you held Jungkook in your embrace.
"Jungkook! Stay awake, you have to stay awake! Do you hear me? Jungkook!"
---
“I just remembered,”
He stood up, his hands leaving your grasp and you felt them cool down without the warmth of Jungkook’s large hands over your own. Your gaze followed him while he searched in one of his drawers until he pulled something out and walked back to you.
“I made you something for your birthday but with everything that happened, I never got the chance to give it to you.”
You were glad you were sitting, if not, you would have probably fainted with the amount of love you had for this man. Had he really made you something despite the terms you were in before the engagement ceremony? Did he really love you that much?
Of course he did.
When Jungkook loved, he loved with all his heart. And right now, you were the owner of that heart of his. He gave it to you without a second thought and his little actions kept proving it to you over and over again. He grabbed your left wrist and you looked down, watching as he tied a red braided bracelet around your skin. He tightened it with the perfect amount of force, tight enough for it to not fall but not that strong that it would hurt your precious skin.
“Do you like it?”
You couldn’t take your eyes off his gift. It was a beautifully braided bracelet with small pearls in it.
“It’s perfect.”
You whispered. Afraid that if you spoke any louder the moment would be ruined. His heart skipped a beat with your words.
“No-one has ever given me such a beautiful gift. Thank you, Jungkook.”
He scratched the back of his neck, clearing his throat and looking away. But you were having none of that so you, once more, grabbed his hand and made him look at you. Your (e/c) eyes met his big doe ones and you said, with tears prickling at the corner of your eyes.
“Thank you, Jungkook. For everything.”
He smiled, a warm smile that made butterflies go wild in your stomach.
“You are very welcome, my princess.”
---
"Aren't you cold?"
That voice he enjoyed so much reached his ears, making him look up at you. He smiled. Shutting the book as his arm rested next to him. Your feet crunched the snow below as you made your way towards him.
"Not really, princess. I kept myself busy."
You smiled. Looking up at him as your hands clasped themselves in front of you.
"Aren't you cold, Your Highness?"
His voiced concern made your heart flutter. You feared he could hear just how fast your heart was beating inside your chest.
"No, I just came from taking a walk with the Crown Prince."
Jungkook kept his gaze on you yet you were aware how something flashed in his eyes at the mention of your future husband. It was there in those dark orbs you loved to get yourself lost into, a second in which he let his emotions take control over him. Where he was vulnerable to your watchful eyes.
But it was gone as you blinked. He gave you no time to question whatever you had seen in his gaze as he asked you next.
"Are you ready for your wedding day?"
The atmosphere turned sombre. As if clouds had hidden the sun of a summer day during tea time. Soft snowflakes began falling from the darkening skies in a soft motion. Delicately even.
"You know I'm not. How could I?"
The smile that once adorned Jungkook's handsome features was now gone. A sad look covered his eyes.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked that."
You took a deep breath. The little bubble of happiness and freedom he provided was now popped and you were brought to the harsh reality. You didn't say anything but you could feel his eyes on you as the both of you walked slowly through your private gardens.
The playful and innocent mood like a summer breeze had been clouded by the cold winds of winter. Of reality.
---
"You came."
You breathed out. Not really believing he was standing there, in front of you when you were literally getting married tomorrow.
"You called."
Jungkook answered. A fond smile was painted over his pink lips. His eyes twinkled with happiness upon seeing you. His hand reached forward in an unconscious manner. But he paused his motion before his palm graced your cheeks with his loving touch.
He lowered his arm and cleared his throat. Speaking once more to break the silence that fell between you two.
"I will not ask how you managed to send that note to me, Princess."
You let out a short laugh, blessing his ears with such a pure sound. A melody his heart cherished more than life itself.
"I have my ways, Officer Jeon."
He snorted at that, his frame relaxing in your presence as he leaned his side to the tree. His eyes never leave your own.
"Can't you call me by my name, Jungkook? Just once?"
Your plea made his eyes harden. You asked for the impossible but you desired more than oxygen to hear your name in his voice. That sweet voice that lived in your mind rent-free. That would console you in your memories when you were sad and would bring a smile upon your face in the most random times of the day.
"I cannot, Your Highness. It is against His Majesty's order to address you improperly."
You frowned.
"Even if I am asking you that?"
He sighed. A hand running though his dark hair. How you wished you could run your own hands through his locks. You could bet on your life they were as soft as cotton.
"I can't, princess. I'm sorry."
Silence stretched between you both. Somehow, the air felt colder, breathing got more challenging upon your rejected request.
"Why did you want to see me? Did you miss me that much?"
Jungkook said, trying to lighten the mood. A playful smirk over his lips. You looked up at him, your eyes as transparent as the lake's water; revealing your soul.
"I don't know if you'll want to speak to me after I say what's been on my mind for the last two days."
He lifted an eyebrow at your response. Curiosity got the best of him as he took a step away from the tree, now standing fully in front of you. The soft snow continues to dance around you.
"It can't be that bad, now can it? Just tell me, Princess."
You took a deep breath, your pulse quickening. This was it. The opportunity to speak your mind. To reveal your most intimate desire to him.
"I don't want to get married, Jungkook. I don't want to marry the Crown Prince. Jimin is worthy of the throne but... I don't love him."
He remained silent. His eyes turned from playful to serious the moment you mentioned your marriage. And he listened. He listened with all his attention to each word that left your lips.
"I can't marry a man I don't love. I want... I want to be with you. It is you who I want to marry, to spend the rest of my time with. Only you can make me happy, Jungkook and it breaks my heart every time I am reminded you won't be at the other end of the altar tomorrow."
Tears began to cloud your vision. But you tried to blink them back. This was what you had been trying to say to him. Yet your most desired thing in the word was still to get revealed.
"I want to leave, I want to leave this place, Kookie. I don't want to be a princess if it means I cannot be yours entirely. I burn for you, in every extent of the word. I cannot breathe when you are not near, I cannot think when I cannot see you close to me. You are everything to me."
A lump began forming in his throat. He felt exactly the same. Jungkook was glad you spoke of this first, you revealed your soul to him, your thoughts, your heart. You needed him. You lived with him, for him. It'd be a pointless life if you couldn't share it with him, he saw that now.
But the surprise when he heard you next couldn't be hidden even if he had wished to do so.
"I want to run away with you, Jungkook. "
---
"What are you doing outside at this hour, Jungkook?"
He untangled his hands from behind him and let them rest by his side, his eyes never leaving yours. Not knowing how his gaze alone was enough to make your heart thump wildly inside you.
"I couldn't sleep. I'll assume you are here because of the same reason."
You nodded, he took a step forward and your breath hitched in your throat. The action of inhaling was already painful as the air was cold, as cold as your neglected heart. Was he really going to take the risk of being this close to you? Another step. Perhaps he was. Then another. He certainly was.
It wasn't until he stood so close to you that you could feel his warm breath dust over your cold cheeks that you silently gasped and took a step back on instinct.
If anyone saw you both, there'd be problems. You didn't want that, not for Jungkook at least.
"And because I missed you. I had to see you. You do not only own this kingdom, you own my heart too and I couldn't live another day without seeing you, my Queen. For you are the one who rules my heart and soul."
You savoured the way his sweet words sprinkled your sour soul with sugar. It was delicious. To think that you were his, that he loved you, that he thought of you, dreamed of you. That he wanted you, perhaps even more strongly than how you wanted him.
You allowed yourself to drown in his sweet words. If only for a moment. Just a moment. A minute. A second would suffice. You didn't ask for more. You didn't want more. The only thing that you needed was his love and he gave it to you on a silver tray.
"Do you really want me that much?"
He nearly flinched at the way your voice was so soft, delicate even. Carrying emotions that were only reflected in your eyes.
"I want you with every fibre of my body and I can't stop thinking about that day. The day when you wanted to leave this place, I only want you to know that if the circumstances had been different, I would have escaped with you but taking you with me only meant death. I would rather die every day for not having you by my side than being the reason for your demise. I love you too much to do that to you."
You didn't realise you were crying until he reached his hand to wipe the tears but you took a step back. Hurt flashed in his eyes and that alone was enough for more tears to roll down your cheeks.
"You can't touch me, Jungkook. Not without the King's permission. Not even in an innocent way."
Your mumbled words reached his ears and he lowered his hand, he clenched it in a tight fist by his side but you didn't notice. Not when your eyes were glued to his own.
"And I understand why you didn't run away with me. I love you too much to get you killed. I'm so sorry I even proposed it on the first place."
His own eyes reflected the sadness in his soul in the form of tears. They glistened under the moonlight, little tears that he refused to let go; to set free.
"Do you really want me that much?"
A question you had already asked. A question he had already answered.
"Do you really want me that much, Jungkook? Even when I am another man's woman?"
He had to physically hold himself back so as to not take another step towards you. It pained him. His feet ached. His heart ached. It was painful to have you so close yet so far away at the same time yet he knew it had been like that since those warm summer days. Since the very beginning of the forbidden love story you developed with your royal guard.
Even when I am another man's woman...
Those words would repeat themselves in his head until the end of his days. A tear rolled down Jungkook's cheek, the chilly air hitting him and making him shiver.
You weren't his. Not anymore. You had never been his. At least not in this lifetime.
"You could never be tainted for me. You are and will always be perfect to hold my heart in your hands. And in our next life you will be mine, and if not in our next one or our next one after that. "
---
"Congratulations, Your Majesty."
Your steps halted when you heard his voice. A big banquet was held to announce your pregnancy to the village. Your father had come to bless you himself, he even told you he'd be staying during the last trimester of the pregnancy as he didn't want to miss the moment his grandchild were to be born.
You could only smile at that thought. But a gulp in your throat upon hearing that voice dissipated the thought, like fog when the sun came out. You turned around, eyes meeting with Jungkook's dark orbs.
A soft smile graced your lips yet he noticed how it didn't reach your eyes.
"Thank you, Jungkook."
There were so many things unsaid between you both. But have words ever been enough? He could see the sadness in your soul, the remorse, the longing and the love that existed in you. How Jungkook wished to go back to those summer days when everything was perfect, when you were happy along with him. When there existed no such barrier between you two of you being married to another man.
You could see it too, how his posture was tense, his eyes sharp with swirling storms of emotions in his dark gaze. You felt the yearning, the pain, the heartbreak from his part. And it crushed your heart even more for you knew he loved you but Jungkook couldn't step closer to you. Literally and figuratively.
He didn't know what else to say, all the courage he had managed to gather in the ceremony was gone now. Leaving him standing before you. His Queen; owner of his heart.
"I do not wish for this encounter to be like the last one, my queen. I only hope that you find the happiness you deserve for I cannot express how proud I am of you. Your child will resemble you in many ways, I am sure of it."
You wanted to run to him, hold his hand and wipe the tears that threatened to escape his eyes. But you could not. Dare not step such boundaries for his sake.
"You must find your happiness too, Jungkook. Live your life and live it right so that we can meet in our next lifetime."
---
A sharp pain made you gasp as your knees hit the floor, your dress puffing out around you. Jungkook was by your side the next second, concern was written all over his face while worry filled his eyes.
"Your Majesty, what's wrong? Please, talk to me."
You took a deep breath between your gasps and whimpers. Your hand grabbed his in your pain-induced mind, trying to ground yourself onto something, someone.
"I-It hurts... Jungkook, it h-hurts."
Your water broke the next second but you felt as if there was something wrong, this was not how a natural birth was supposed to start.
"Please... something's wrong. It- it hurts so much."
Tears gathered in your eyes as you tried to suppress the scream that threatened to escape your throat. You felt him let go of your hand, positioning his arms beneath your kneeling figure only to be lifted by him the next second.
Your arms circled his neck on instinct as you curled yourself in his hold. Jungkook began walking back to the palace at a fast pace, the weight of your body grounded his mind while at the same time numbed his senses. If you hadn't been in so much pain at that moment you would have noticed how his hands were trembling.
"Hold on, my Queen. You'll be fine, I'm here. It's alright."
He cradled you against his chest firmly, not wanting to let you go ever again now that you were in his arms. His heart feared for your safety, you were only eight months pregnant by now, he knew the risks of pregnancy and Jungkook knew he wouldn't be able to live if something were to happen to you.
Tears soaked his robes, your hand fisted his collar. Your small whimpers were like poisonous needles piercing his heart. It hurt. It pained him to see you in so much distress.
"Hold on, love. Please."
---
"You called for me, Your Majesty."
He bowed down at you and you sighed, realising how much you hated when he bowed at you when you'd go on your knees with only a word falling from his lips. He had that power over you. That way to command you. To make you feel.
"Jungkook."
The man before you lifted his gaze and your eyes met his once more. Had it been within any other circumstances, you'd have smiled and ran toward him. How you wish you could embrace him, how you wish you could kiss him and declare your love for him. How you wish you could love him freely.
You were sitting between blankets and cushions, taking rest after the hard labour. The prince lied next to you as he slept soundly while being wrapped up in luxurious fabric.
"I haven't seen you in a while."
He smiled. Not that smile that reached his eyes or that warmed your insides. It made you shiver with the sadness within it. Like a cold breeze on a winter day.
"I was told you were to rest, my Queen. Captain Min ordered me to give you some space, at least until you are feeling better."
You smiled, gesturing for him to sit in front of you, which he did. A moment of silence passed between you both. Your gaze lingered on his handsome features, drawing a map of him in your mind.
"I missed you."
He sighed at your whispered confession. Those words clawed at his heart with nothing but a heavy guilt that existed within him.
"My Queen... please."
You took a deep breath at his pleading, his begging. You looked aside as your heart constricted in your chest.
"Forgive me."
He looked at you with eyes full of emotions you weren't quick enough to grasp. Why must love hurt so much? Jungkook shifted his gaze from your figure, focusing on the little bundle where the prince, your son, slept peacefully.
"Congratulations on your baby. May prince Ha-joon live a long and happy life with his family."
---
"Kook!"
Ha-joon had said. Your hands felt cold against the warm cup, your soul froze when you looked up. There he was. Jeon Jungkook. You hadn't seen him in days. And before today there were only small peaks here and there followed by short greetings.
Jungkook turned to look at you, your eyes met his from across the garden. You felt your breath hitch in your throat at the mere sight of him. Your hands trembled around the cup, forcing you to put it away.
He bowed down at you slowly yet his eyes never left yours. Emotions invaded your body as you stood up from your chair. Hoseok noticed your actions and sat up, Ha-joon left his side and ran with his little legs where Jungkook was.
Your royal guard smiled down at your son and Hoseok stood up from the ground, walking the steps to where you stood.
"Your Majesty, are you alright? You look pale, should I walk you to your chambers?"
But you shook your head, your eyes following Jungkook's figure as he approached you with Ha-joon by his side. The little prince was telling him something that you couldn't hear and he smiled widely. Flashed him that bunny smile you loved so much and had missed just as fiercely.
Jungkook bowed down at you once he stood in front of you. Ha-joon looked up at the man next to him and mimicked his actions. Your heart clenched at the sight. Having the man you loved and your child who was your husband's son before you was too much for your heart.
It clenched inside you, it burned, it ached.
"Your Majesty."
Jungkook acknowledged you. You nodded softly at him and he rose to his full height. Ha-joon doing the same.
"Kook! Play, together."
Hoseok watched the interaction from where he stood. His own heart clenched at the sight of your hidden pain. You have always been an open book for your best friend. You had been able to hide your love from your father, even from your husband but not from Hoseok. He had known you his entire life. He knew you, he knew the core of your heart. He knew your unspoken words. He knew.
"Only if the queen allows it, my prince."
Jungkook's eyes found yours once more. A sad smile painted his lips. Ha-joon was a clear resemblance of you but also of his father and Jungkook was reminded once more of what he had lost the day you married Jimin. Of that dream that he wished would become his reality was instead a mountain of ashes. Of burnt dreams and wishes.
You smiled tightly at the pair in front of you, not wanting to deny sweet Ha-joon of his free days and innocent happiness.
"You may play, but please be careful."
---
"Jungkook."
His name coming from your lips was the sweetest melody he has ever heard. He had missed it. He had missed you. His eyes locked with yours and he nearly gasped at the sight of you laying on the soft bedding, your skin was paler than usual, your eyes were tired and your body was beyond weakened.
"Your Majesty."
He acknowledged you. Bowing softly at you without tearing his gaze from you. He saw you shift in your position, laying on your left side so you could see him properly. You smiled and in an instant his dark world was lightened by your existence.
"Come closer, Jungkook. Come here."
Your hand extended towards him as if trying to reach him. He couldn't hold himself back any longer upon your innocent request as his legs moved with a mind of their own. Nearly jumping until he was kneeling by your side, his hand holding yours ever so softly.
“I heard… I heard that you are sick, my Queen. Is it true?”
Jungkook asked almost shyly. Not meeting your eyes as his own gaze was fixed on your joined hands.
“It is.”
He sighed at your response. Feeling how his heart clenched within him. Tears watered his dark eyes and a lump grew in your throat at the sight of his sadness.
“Don’t cry, Jungkook. Don’t waste your tears over me.”
He looked up at you, his expression hurt with your words. A frown was between his brows, eyes watered with his materialised sadness and a soul that he could no longer carry on his own.
“How can you say that to me? I am dying with you, my Queen. Only you are capable of causing me the greatest pain yet it is you who eradicates it as well.”
You squeezed his hand, feeling your chest aching. Your mind was shutting down as you gazed at the man you loved with your entire being.
“Forgive me.”
He shook his head, refusing to let his tears roll down his cheeks as his eyes roamed over your face as if trying to memorise all your little details in his mind.
“It is I who should beg for forgiveness. I cannot protect you from this, I have failed you. I cannot prevent you from leaving me.”
A tear left the corner of your eye as you looked at him with so many unsaid things and raging emotions you were never able to pour out. It was too much. Too much love. Too much longing. Too much sadness. Too much anger. Your heart couldn’t take it any more.
“Maybe you can’t make me stay, but you gave me the opportunity of knowing what it was to love. Even when we couldn’t be together in the end, I still love you. I will always love you, Jungkook. In each… in each lifetime.”
—
A choked gasp left your lips as the memory dissipated from your mind like morning fog during a summer day. You didn't even realise you were crying until you sniffled and your hand came up to your face and your skin was wet with your own liquid sadness.
What kind of dream was this? What kind of cruelty had fate bestowed upon you? What kind of crime did you commit to feel this pain? You had loved, you had been loved only for it to melt like ice in those warm summer days when everything was perfect. You couldn't help the sob that escaped your lips as the realisation hit you:
You were the queen of the portrait. A representation of your old soul trapped in your past life as the unfortunate lover.
It wasn't a dream. It was a memory. Your memories from your past life and that love you were once denied to have.
Hoseok was nearing the hall of ancient artefacts when his phone rang and he stopped in his tracks. Jungkook halted beside him and waited in silence.
"I'm sorry, I have to take this. I left Miss (y/n) at the end of this hall. You shouldn't have difficulty finding her."
Jungkook bowed softly, his warm eyes meeting the ones of Hoseok as he spoke in his professional voice once more.
"Don't worry, Mr. Jung. I'll do my best to assist her."
Hoseok nodded before he accepted the call and walked away, leaving Jungkook to sigh to himself before he ventured on the journey of finding the eccentric politician's daughter.
He walked among the centuries of history around him, through the halls that held art and a lost empire through time. Something about his line of work had always intrigued him. It made him wonder just how insignificant life was. Years, decades and centuries of history, of people that once walked on this Earth were now kept in glass boxes, a strange way of trying to preserve what should have died years ago.
It made him think about all the lives, all the deaths, all the heartbreaks from the past. All those untold stories buried in time. In every aspect, in every lifetime, in every way. It was simply melancholic to acknowledge all the history around him.
Jungkook walked, allowing his mind to wander as he thought of the beautiful politician's daughter. He thought of the times he had seen her, seen you in important events. Always looking so beautiful, always captivating the media. Always perfect, always next to your powerful father.
He reached the end of the hall but there was no sight of you. A sudden tightness gripped his heart fiercely, as if he were in pain, as if someone clutched his heart in its claws and it bled out.
As if on instinct, Jungkook walked to the royal hall. His feet moved on their own, his mind spiralled with all kinds of thoughts. With dream-like memories that he would have sworn were from one of those historical dramas he knew were popular among the hopeless romantics.
The sound of a sob echoed over the walls and it was as painful as being stabbed on the heart. He turned around with urgency only to spot you looking at a painting, your back was facing him while your left hand covered your mouth.
"Miss (y/n)?"
Your eyes widened when you heard that voice. That voice that was lost in your thoughts. That voice that was from your forgotten memories. That same voice that had broken your heart was now stitching it back together.
You turned around, your misty eyes met his in a dance of emotions you were, for once, able to dance along. Pink petals from the cherry blossoms in the garden behind fell slowly and when your eyes locked with Jungkook's he saw it as well.
He saw everything. All those memories, all those experiences. He saw his love. His sadness. His life. His reason for living. His flower. His darling. All in ancient history.
Jungkook saw his past life with you.
Like a movie in front of his eyes. A dream he wanted to reach. A memory he had promised to not forget but time was cruel and it was buried in the depths of his soul.
"Jungkook? It's you, isn't it?"
Your voice brought him back from his forgotten memories. He looked at you with a familiarity and a strangeness in his eyes. It was enough to make tears roll down your cheeks while his own eyes watered at the impossible sight before him.
"...princess? H-how?...."
You sobbed and he walked toward you. Unable to resist the sight of your tears. Perhaps this was the first time he met you in this lifetime but your souls have been in love for centuries. Your heart hadn't changed, his feelings remained the same. Love cannot be killed, not even by death.
He stood at arms length, eyes gazing down at you with the urge to know the truth. To know if you were that missing piece in his life. To know if this lifetime was worth-living.
"You found me. You said you'd find me."
Was this a dream? Was this a false memory? Was this real? He deeply needed for it to be real. Jungkook felt whole when he looked down at you. As if you were the missing piece for this puzzle called life. And you? You didn't know if he still wanted you. If Jungkook was your Jungkook. Your lost lover. Your forbidden romance. Your unfinished story.
"In every lifetime, princess."
His hand flexed next to him with the urge to touch you. To hug you and never let you go. To kiss you. To finally kiss you after all those denied moments he had before. To love you like he had dreamt long ago.
You wiped your cheeks with the back of your hand and something on your wrist caught his attention. It was a subtle glimpse of a red string around your wrist and he knew, in that moment he knew.
"You still wear it huh?"
A smile appeared on your lips at the same words he had spoken to you. A long time ago. Once upon a dream. In another lifetime. And the same answer is what he got. The same words that you had replied to him. The answer to his lovely sentence.
"I never took it off."
He was referring to your red bracelet. Something you remember always having, never truly knowing how you got to possess such a beautiful item but it simply felt right to wear it. So you did, you never took it off. As if it was engraved in your skin, almost like Jungkook's name was written in your soul and his whispered love was locked away in your heart.
"Can... Can I hold you?"
There was desperation in his voice. It sounded almost bitter that it pulled on your heartstrings. You nodded almost immediately. Burning just as him to feel him once more, to touch the man you had missed for centuries. To be held by your one and only love.
You were in his arms the next second. His hands pressed you against his chest as your own circled his waist. A long lost hug. A missed love. A romance out of time. But it was a timeless love nonetheless.
Something clicked inside you once you were held by Jungkook. As if your heart had been filled with his life, as if your broken soul was stitched back with just his simple touch. As if memories had been unlocked after your skin touched his.
"I missed you. I missed you so much, queen of my heart."
His hold on you tightened and you couldn't help but bury your face in his chest. How he had wished to do this in his first lifetime. How he wished he had been able to hold you like this. How he wished he had had you before just like this.
All the pain was gone. The tears were dried by his love. His hands held your heart so softly and purely you didn't want to part from him. You couldn't. You wouldn't. You wouldn't let go of him like that once more. You weren't going to lose him again. Not after all that pain, all that heartbreak, all those tears and all that yearning. Not again. Never again.
"I missed you too. So much, so much..."
Jungkook rested his chin at the top of your head, closing his eyes as he held you softly but firmly. It made him wonder just how much time you had been robbed in your past life. He realised just how evil fate had been to break you both like that. To separate two lovers is the worst cruelty of this fallen world.
But now, those cold days are over. Winter had passed. Even after centuries of living buried in the freezing snow, warmth had finally touched his heart. The soft rays of the sun were melting his once frozen soul. Your love did that. Only with you was he able to live in warmth. Only with you existed that flame in his heart that kept him alive.
You looked up at him and he met your gaze midway. It was magical. To look at the eyes you had unknowingly missed so much. How your soul was mourning the loss of Jungkook, how your life was always grey and cold was now warm and coloured in pink. Like the petals falling behind you.
One of his hands cradled your cheek and you smiled. Your heart was beating wildly in your heart at the proximity, at the love, at the emotions that came flooding like a waterfall from the sky.
You stood on your tippy toes only to press your lips against his. It was soft, delicate. Like a spring breeze. A kiss full of love. A healing kiss. A kiss that should have happened a long time ago. Jungkook kissed you back, burning at the feeling of your soft lips against his.
He tilted his head, deepening the kiss and you sighed, tightening your grip around his waist as he poured all those long lost emotions into that kiss. A kiss he had wished he could give you centuries ago. All the love, all the yearning, all the heartbreak, all the feelings of missing you, missing your warmth, your love, your touch, your existence were poured into that kiss.
A sealed kiss of timeless love.
"Don't ever leave me again."
He whispered against your lips. voice desperate with the promise of your love. Of your devotion. Of eternity.
"I wouldn't dream of it."
Your answer was said in a soft voice, only meant for Jungkook to hear. He pressed his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes as he felt the memories slowly come back to him. During those golden summer days, rainy autumn evenings and cold winter nights. Everything about his life with you came back like a soft spring drizzle over his soul.
Perhaps fate had been cruel when he separated you from your Jungkook with death. But it now gave you the opportunity with your rightful lover. That soulmate you were destined to love since the very beginning of life.
Through life and death, only time gets in between. Through tears and pain, it is love that keeps the hope alive and through silent feelings and absent minds; it is time that keeps them together in a dance with a melody only meant for the tangled lovers to hear.
In every lifetime, in every way, in every universe and in every season. Love is stronger than death.
February/16/2024
~Masterpost
Please let me know your thoughts in the comments, darlings!
**I do NOT give my consent for this or any of my works to be posted or translated into any other platforms or languages.
#jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook angst#bangtan#jeon jungkook fluff#jeon jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jimin x you#jimin x reader#jimin x reader angst#park jimin#jeon jungkook#min yoongi#jung hoseok#bangtan sonyeondan#방탄소년단#전정국#love#arranged marriage#historical au#royal au#bts fanfic#jungkook x reader angst#forbidden love#jungkook fluff#jungkook x y/n#jimin x y/n#sweetcarrotsandroses97
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The Sorcerer or The Demon?
Warning !
Mentions of Blood ; Mentions of Burning ; Mention the use of a Knife ; Shu and Vox taking care of you ; Unestablished Relationship ( for now )
A/n !
God y'all are so quick to make it 200 notes, should've increased them eh? Fufu~
Part I <- ||
➶◜◝➴
"Looks like we got some uninvited guests"
. . .
Shu stood by the sliding paper door and his right hand slightly extended to his side, one of the paper shikigami went up to his palms and turned into a katana. Shu turn a bit to the side and throw them towards Vox, who immediately catches it as he walk up to The Sorcerer and as he is, you just realized how his body started to slowly emits mists around him and the room.
"Protection is the top priority." Shu whispered as he let the paper shikigamis slides the door open, "Now shall we send them back to where they belong?" He said and let out a soft chuckle before walking out of the room, followed by Vox behind him.
. . .
It is astonishingly terrifying, to see how they fought of the 'uninvited guests'. The way Vox just slice them off with his katana gracefully, you can see the blood dripping from his katana as The Demon stood in front of the dying person. And the next second, the body burns by the purple pink fire. And it is obvious who that fire belong to. Your eyes moved to where Shu is, he' smiling as his hand was pointed at the person who's now burnt into ashes.
Leaving no trace of dead bodies on the ground, and you don't know how long it has been going on. But the next thing you knew your now being held hostage, making the situation where Shu and Vox have to stop the killing spree as they look over at your figure that has been captured.
"D-drop the magic sorcery you did-! And, give us, ..t-that katana and we'll let them go-!" They stuttered, leaving The Demon raise a brow as he glances at his katana, the katana that he just used to slice up their allies.
Money.
It must've been the money they'll get from getting and selling Vox's Katana, "Do you even know what you're doing?" Shu asked looking calm as ever, his smile widen as the person that's holding you moving their knife even closer to your neck. "Switch."
The person blinked only for them to realize they're now holding The Demon instead of you, you blinked confusedly on what just happened. Shu walk up to you and gently wrap his left arm around your shoulder and pull you close to him, "Good luck with that" said The Sorcerer as he smiled at the enemy that's holding Vox, who was supposed to be holding you.
"Get, your hands off me you disgusting being."
. . .
Gone, they're gone.
Those people are gone, these two men finished them off like they're ants. Now you're at a different room, no longer at the room you're first open your eyes to. Vox who's currently wiping some of the blood off his katana. While Shu, are explaining to you about how did you just switched places with Vox.
"Do you remember when I ask you about do you like Shikigamis?" He asked as he then extended his hand towards you, only for one of the paper shikigami slips out from your kimono' sleeves. "Wh-" you blinked at the paper shikigami and then up at Shu, "Apologies, I knew something are going to happen as we take you here, so I got no choice but to slip one. Just in case, you know."
Now you're not curious about how he did that, you're more curious on why would he go that far to save you? When you're clearly nobody important, you're not a princess nor someone high ranking that needs a protection. You're just a villager that's trying to live a normal life, but it seems like you took a wrong path and ended up like you are now.
"Why..?" You whispered out, making Shu tilt his head at you, making his long ponytail slightly went to the side as he did so. "Hm? Why what? Why did I go that far to protect you?" He said that so casually, as if he just read your mind. "Y-yes..?" You replied a bit hesitant, earning a chuckle from him. "A question that I am also questioning on, So if I were to answer that question, it is going to be, I am not entirely sure why" The Sorcerer replied as his gloved hand gently brush against your hair.
"But for now, you should prioritize on surviving instead of asking that" He whispered, as he then slowly pull his hand away from you, "Human natures, They're so hard to understand. But I suppose that's what made them interesting." The Demon suddenly jumped into the conversation, making you and Shu turn your heads to him.
Vox just sheathed his katana, seems like he's done wiping off the blood, he gently put the katana away, only for it to disappear on thin air. "And you, you're much more interesting than those other humans I've encountered before" Said Vox, you don't know if you should take that as a compliment or an insult.
But either way, you're now in their house, getting a proper treatment and protection. You silently watch the two men talking to each other as you wonder what's gonna happen to you now.
"What's, ..gonna happen to me now..?" You asked, catching their attention, "Curious now are you, hm?" Vox replied as he then let out a small chuckle. "You want to live, don't you?" Shu smiled at you, "If you want to be, useful.. or, helpful perhaps," he trailed off, "You can do the house chores, you know how to do one, do you?" You nod your head as you stare at his violet eyes and Vox's golden eyes.
"Also, you are coming with us when, we're doing our, business. But no questions asked when we do." Vox continued and smirked at you, "If not, you're going to be all alone here, and you'll probably going to be captured again by them. Who knows~" Vox teased and let out a low chuckle, making The Sorcerer shook his head, "Don't worry, even if you want to stay here while we're out, I have my Shikigamis with you." Shu said and his hand then reached out to your head. Gently patting you, "And either of them will switched to either me or Vox, so don't worry too much okay?"
. . .
With that, your life have changed ever since they saved you, you did the house chores, cleaning up the house as they do their business in a room somewhere around the house.
Whenever Vox had a chance, he'll tease you a whole lot, especially when you're cleaning his room. Teasy and flirty remarks are sent to you, making you a having a bit difficulty to clean his room without his piercing golden eyes staring at you as you move, watching you, intently. Of course, with a smirk on his face that never fade away whenever he sees you.
Shu at the other hand, would be so quiet as he wrote something down on a book with his brush. You see him sitting behind a low table on the floor, paper rolls scattered around him, even on the table. It is a bit messy, but it seems like he's learning new sorcery type of things? You didn't want to bother him. It was peaceful with him.
But there are times when he just decided to stop what he's doing and asked you how you're doing as he watched you cleaning up the room. Asking how do you feel after living at the household, the way he smiled sweetly after he heard your reply made your heart flutter.
. . .
"Little human~" The way you slightly jolt at the nickname earning yourself a low chuckle behind you, you slowly turned around to see Vox leaning against the sliding door frame, arms crossed, "Come, Shu had summoned us to see him" you tilt your head and blinked, you put down the scrub and washed your hands before shaking your hand a bit to dry your hand a bit.
The moment both you and Vox arrived, Shu is sitting down on the floor, smiling warmly at you and him. "Sorry for the sudden call, but I want to ask you," he paused and looked at you, "Soon, it's going to be full moon, I believe, the Yokais would be out for hunting until next week." He continued, he then smiled at you a bit, sheepishly, "You sleeping alone would be a bit dangerous while the week goes on, it's just for a week.." he averted his eyes, and the next second you heard a small laughter next to you, "..By means, you're either staying in my room, or Shu's room."
You owlishly stared at Vox and then Shu who just gave you a sheepish smile, "Don't worry, I believe none of us will do anything weird to you. If that what you're thinking." The Demon teased, making you flustered. You're not even thinking that way, ... Or did you?
. . .
After that day, you're staying in either of their rooms, and today you decided to stay in Shu's room. You're now outside his room, contemplating if you should knock or not. Until you heard him chuckle, "Come in, what are you standing out there for?" You sheepishly opened the door, getting a bit flustered for getting caught standing at the door.
Shu smiled at you when he sees your face, "I'm sorry, this must be too much for you, I promise it'll be only for a week." He apologized and sheepishly scratched the back of his neck, ".. It's okay, you're just.. trying to, protect me" You said, making The Sorcerer let out a chuckle. "That is true."
The whole hour is filled with you chattering with him, sometimes sharing laughter too, until Vox just barges into the room, looking a bit, grumpy and sat down next to you rising one of his knee and rest his arm there, "How dare you two had fun without me"
. . .
The night goes unexpectedly fun for you, and for them. You fell asleep on Vox' shoulder by accident last night, but the next thing you knew when you opened your eyes, you're laying down on a futon. You look over to the side to see nobody behind the table, the spot where Shu usually would sit. But he's not there, you slowly rise up from the futon and looked around the room. It is genuinely calming to be in his room, soon after you gazed around, you heard footsteps coming to the room, a familiar hand slides the door open, revealing Shu standing outside his room, with some of his Shikigamis holding a plate of, food?
"Oh, you're awake, good morning, I bought breakfast.." he greeted you as he then sat down next to your futon, "Did you sleep well? You sure did stay up pretty late" he said and let out a chuckle, "We have a long day ahead, get yourself filled up."
. . .
The day goes without a problem, or so you thought.
You were walking at the garden, on your way back to the kitchen, and then suddenly you heard a thump behind you. Before you could check what's the cause, a pair of hand grabbed you and cover your mouth. The figure let out a sinister laugh,
"Go to sleep little one, you're now in my hands"
. . .
"Shu."
"I know, I am trying to find them, i never thought they have some guts to do that on a sheer daylight."
The two men are getting a bit anxious as they tried to find your whereabouts, you didn't have any shikigamis with you.
You could only pray they'll find you soon.
. . .
©fakesimp . 2023
|| Last Part ->
A/n !
Make this reach 300 notes ! And I'll make the third part. And I believe it's going to be the last one.. I believe..
Reblogs are muchly appreciated!
#nijisanji en x reader#nijisanji en#nijisanji x reader#nijisanji#luxiem x reader#luxiem#vox akuma x reader#vox akuma#shu yamino x reader#shu yamino
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The Old Guard x One piece AU got my brain going brrr and i'm gonna make it your problem now. Center of the matter is I want Zoro and Sanji to meet kind of like Nicki and Joe did (discovering their immortality by fighting on opposite sides and killing each other over and over and then becoming eternal lovers) so I went and did some research for the entire Straw hat crew. Main thing is I wanted to link them to historical events that will give them the right motivations and backgrounds! so here we GOOO
Sanji and Zoro: Because Japan has an isolationist past, the only battle I could find that would work is the Cagayan battles of 1582 in Jakarta between Spanish-Philippine forces vs Japanese pirates (a.k.a Wokou, which are basically pirate ronin)
Sanji would thus be a reluctant "Rodelero" sent to South East Asia by his noble family (jokes on them he loves being in the middle of the spice trade and he hates being part of a noble family funding the conquistadores) who one day finds himself fighting a mysterious Wokou samurai Zoro. They're partly isolated from their respective camps when they first kill each other, and again, and again, until they realise they should by all means be dead but they keep healing. After a couple decades of -against all odds- running into each other everywhere, they reluctantly decide to try and figure out what the heck's happened to them together- struggling to communicate at first, then learning each others' language over the following decade, then falling in love and becoming inseparable. This makes Zoro and Sanji both over 400 years old, and they are the same age. Zoro learns about so many sword techniques and Sanji about different cuisines/ leg-centric fighting styles during this time.
all the other straw hats and their historical periods under the cut!
Robin as an Egyptian scholar who died during the burning of the Library of Alexandria in 48 BC/ was killed for researching something forbidden during the declining years of the Roman Period (early 200s) and found out she was immortal this way, making her around 2 millennia old. She spends her time recording history and traveling the world and encountering new cultures. Her long time enemy is religious obscurantism, and the Catholic church spends a lot of resources trying to kill her. (they have conspiracy boards about this immortal witch in the Vatican)
Brook: so ancient he doesn't remember much, other that he came from Kerma culture (2500 BC), loved music, and that his entire village had died from an illness, but he came back. His memory isn't great but if there's one thing he's loved in his Millennia of existence is discovering and learning how to play all the instruments that he could find. He mostly hangs in Vienna nowadays as a music teacher.
Jinbei is a Samoan chieftain from around 1000 BC who one day died during a battle with a Fijian chieftain. When he came back from death he assumed Tagaloa chose him. He loves navigating, sailing, exploring and going on voyages with his people. In more recent times (post european contact) he was forced to ally with the US Navy to protect his people.
Nami: Irish lass from around 800 who's coastal, tiny village was about to be raided by Vikings from Sweden. She made a deal with their chieftain Arlong to go with them and map out the British isles for them to help their raids be more effective and targeted, in exchange for not killing people in her village, and that she would make back the plunder they did not get from this town for them. She started to join their raids to try and make this money, but she died in battle. She came back and they believed her to be some kind of Valkyrie or Einherjer brought back to midgard. She took over the raider's leadership- also Norsemen always had women handle money, which works great here. During her time as an immortal she travels, seeks treasure, double crosses people etc.
Usopp a young double agent/CIA spy from the Cold War who died on a mission. He tragically could not return to his love Kaya because he was afraid of putting her in danger by revealing he was alive to the spies that killed him. He relocates and starts anew constantly, his entire life a web of lies. He's a great marksman/sniper.
Chopper died young of the Bubonic plague in medieval Europe. He resuscitated, tragically his father is infected as well and he's unable to save him- motivating him to get to the bottom of this disease, he decides to become a doctor. Looking like a 15 year old for centuries doesn't make this task easy and he has to hide a lot.
Franky is an American veteran of WWI who was heavily disfigured first, and died later (which is why he's not fully healed and needs prosthetics). He's heavily anti-government from having been sent to fight in such a meaningless war that sacrificed young men like cannon fodder. He learned to fix himself up and make prosthetics and masks for veterans, got into making tech stuff
Luffy is a modern, 21st century 20 something year old from Brazil's favelas. He dies in a gun violence incident (maybe linked to a drug war/gang war where he's been trying to protect his neighbourhood) and comes back, experiencing visions of others like him. He's resolute to find them and make a crew, thinking that with all of them together, maybe they can help liberate the world from opressors and inequality
#it's one am#but i couldnt stop#did all the research i could to match each straw hat with a nice historic period#one piece au#zosan au#zosan fic idea#one piece fic idea#zoro x sanji#i just want the star crossed immortal lovers with lots of lore and cool adventures as#new immortal luffy just goes around collecting these people who have no idea there's others like them#and them going around liberating people#like the scariest undying ten people army that they are#the old guard one piece au#the old guard au#immortal straw hats#straw hat crew#zosan
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Sunshine in Autumn - Part One
Summary: Desperate to prevent the possible loss of her family's happiness, Elain travels back to the past to Autumn, where her sole ally is her mate who has no idea who she is.
A/N: Happy Elucien Week everyone! Written for day 2 prompt - Magic✨ for @elucienweekofficial! This story will be a two parter with the second part uploaded later in the week. Enjoy!
A huge huge thank you to @reverie-tales for bouncing off ideas with me and giving me your thoughts on the fic!💕💕💕
Read on AO3 | Part Two
LUCIEN
It happened deep within the sprawling halls of marble and gold. The shock that would have re-acquainted Lucien with the ground if he hadn't already been sitting.
The bond had laid dormant for so long that he barely thought about it anymore. A constant presence that no longer bothered him as a lingering reminder. Especially when Elain got increasingly better at shielding herself from him.
To suddenly feel that spike of fear before it winked into nothingness. A black hole taking the place of the warm thrumming light, brighter than anything in Day. Its absence was jarring and unsettling.
Lucien winnowed to just outside the entrance of Hewn City, his heart thundering in his ears. What he was doing broke so many inter-Court etiquette but he couldn't give a fuck about it right now. Not when his mind spewed out a dozen scenarios at him, each getting worse than the other.
The doors swung open dramatically as he strode in towards the High Lord and High Lady, all eyes of the hall landed on him. The nerve of him, their sharp gaze scolded angrily.
Lucien almost paused. Not because of them but because of the rising panic when his eyes failed to locate his mate.
"Where's Elain?" He demanded, the irate protests of the inner Court amplified the pounding in his ears until Lucien gave into instincts and bellowed out, "I can't feel her anymore so someone better tell me where the hell she is!"
Feyre gave a bewildered look from her seat before recovering quickly to adopt a more inquisitive expression, "Lucien, we weren't expecting you. Elain is-" she trailed off, seemingly noticing for the first time then her sister wasn't there.
Lucien felt his indignation rising to meet his anxiety. They didn't even notice she was gone. He exhaled sharply to quell it.
"The basement," the shadowsinger said quietly, a slither of shadow wrapped around his arm as his voice drifted over, easily slicing through the heavy silence that fell over the group.
Lucien followed Feyre, who quickly stalked out of the hall. His magical eye spun wildly as they entered the basement, dizzyingly full of riches and magic artifacts. One particular dusty golden disc spinning with intricate spellwork laid on the floor. Its surface was etched with multiple overlapping circles of different sizes, a design almost reminiscent of gears.
Rhysand was the one who crouched over the device, brows furrowed as one hand gingerly traced the device. Amren opened her mouth, a warning not to touch it, a second too late.
Darkness flooded the room as the tight leash which the High Lord of Night held over his powers slipped.
Feyre crossed the distance in a heartbeat. Her touch grounded her mate as the shadows receded. When Rhysand opened his eyes and spoke, it was to look, surprisingly, directly at Lucien.
"The question may not be where Elain is but when."
***
200 years into the past, Autumn
Lucien had run into the beautiful female three times before he caught her. To her credit, she was more crafty than he had anticipated.
The first time happened after his visit from Winter, the frost still embedded in his veins as he sipped on hot honey and clove. She was wearing a poorly fitted dress. The mud brown and ruffled material that would look awful on anybody still failed to hide how lovely her face was. So lovely that Lucien stopped in his tracks, entranced.
Her wide doe eyes stared innocently as a courtier smile charmed the baker with flattering greetings. Beneath the counter, shaky hands swiped a loaf of bread.
Lucien should have called her out then. Nobody in Autumn stole. Or worse still, nobody did it poorly enough to get caught.
Yet, he didn't.
He watched, almost helplessly, as she gave hasty goodbyes and scrambled away. For reasons beyond his own understanding, he dropped coins covering the payment of the loaf she stole on the counter before leaving.
He ran into her for the second time two weeks later at a different market. She wore a maroon dress that, despite hanging loose at certain areas, still contrasted nicely against her fair skin and wavy golden brown hair. She had donned the same courtier smile, her words smooth as she queried on the various grains on display. A cheery laugh and a well positioned hand on his arm kept the farmer's eyes away from the pots where her free hand smoothly swept grains into a waiting pouch.
Lucien's jaw clicked at the action and he stepped closer.
Almost immediately, she turned her head to lock deep brown eyes with russet ones. Her rosebud mouth parted slightly in panic.
He wanted to reveal her as a thief. But more than that, he wanted to taste those lips to see if they were as sweet as they looked.
"Wait," he yelled at her back as she whipped around to run and weave in and around the crowd. One ill-timed crossing cart was all it took for Lucien to lose her, leaving him cursing at the innocent passerby.
The third time was a stroke of luck. Lucien had just returned from visiting Tamlin in Spring and was shaking off his run-in with Ianthe. The mysterious presence eased a tension within him like a beautiful palette cleanser.
She was finally wearing a dress that properly fit her, a deep coral piece that hugged her petite figure and gave onlookers a peak of cleavage. Something the merchant at the market was evidently enjoying.
Lucien would be damned if he let her escape him again.
He hid his presence as he made his way over to the store. His hand grabbed hers as she lifted a bracelet from the table, drawling, "Now, now, dear. You know the consequences of stealing."
Her form tensed up, the bracelet slipped and tinkled against the surface. She glared at him in anger and what felt uncomfortably like betrayal. He ignored the nagging in his chest and smoothly cut off the furious sputters of the merchant, "Don't worry, I'll take her off your hands."
He watched as the seller's eyes narrowed in suspicion before widening as he recognised who Lucien was, "But my lord, the law clearly-"
He didn't let him finish, "Clearly states that the accused be turned over to a figure of authority, yes?"
He raised a cocky brow and held the merchant's gaze until he eventually looked away with a huff. Lucien's lips pulled into a lazy smile, "That's what I thought."
He dropped two gold coins on the table and pocketed the same silver bracelet. With a snap of his fingers, cuffs bond the female's wrists together and they leave, with one last dismissive stare at the seller.
"You should be thanking me, you know?" He asked after they had walked some ways from the shop, the sulky beautiful Fae lagged behind him by a couple of steps, her long sleeves kept the cuffs discreet. "Do you know what happens if you get caught?"
Irritation flashed across her face. She snapped back, "I wouldn't have gotten caught if it wasn't for you."
Lucien hummed, unconvinced, "A recalcitrant thief like you? You would've gotten caught eventually."
She scowled but said nothing, letting Lucien lead her out of the market where the crowd had dispersed into nothingness before demanding, "Are you taking me in?"
Lucien bent forward to meet her at eye level, his auburn hair falling out, teasingly scratching the surface of her face. His fingers twitched in envy. He purred, "I could take you in. But why would I toss you in some grimy cell when you could be sleeping in somewhere much nicer?"
She scoffed, sticking her chin out, "If you're not taking me in, I'm heading off."
Lucien followed as she stalked off, her footsteps pulling him in like a beacon, calling out, "Don't you need to get out of the cuffs first?"
She turned around, raising her freed hands, delicate silver glinting around her wrist where the cuffs should be. Her brown eyes were wide as she asked innocently, "What cuffs?"
Lucien tipped his head back as a hearty laugh escaped his throat, answering with mirth in his eyes, "A consummate thief. I should've known."
She rolled her eyes, her lips puckered into a near pout and he was once again struck by how stupidly beautiful this thief was.
Don't follow me, was all she said as she walked away from him.
So Lucien stood there, watching her as she walked away from him again, knowing somehow that this would not be the last time he would run into her.
***
ELAIN
Elain collapsed backwards with the back of her forearm covering her eyes, the old, soft mattress creaking slightly beneath her weight. She let out a heavy sigh, the adrenaline which pumped through her earlier ebbed away, leaving exhaustion in its stead. Her arm slid down her face, revealing the wooden structures of the cottage ceiling, the cozy space lit in the warm orange tint of the fireplace.
Of course, she knew logically that she could run into Lucien. Afterall, she never knew when exactly he left Autumn for Spring. She never gave the both of them the chance to know each other well enough for such a history to be shared. When he left Night to be with his father in Day after the war with Koschei, his beautiful face dimmed as he offered her those final parting words.
You know where to find me when you've finally made up your mind if you want to give us a chance or reject the bond.
She almost gave in that day. The urge to take his hand and let him winnow the both of them to his new court. But she couldn’t. Not with her final conversation with Greysen still echoing in her head.
Our engagement is over. I will take whatever people occupy your lands. But not you. Never you.
So she put on a polite smile and watched as his composure cracked for a split second before being masked by a diplomatic smile. A smile, a nod and he walked away from her. And she let him.
The days after that were stagnant. She stayed in Night, remained in the River Manor. She passed her time with Nuala and Cerridwen, cooking, baking, gardening. They brought her books from the Library on herbs and potions.
Days turned into weeks and months. Elain felt herself steadily sinking further and further into the shadows of the manor. As if she too, had the same shadow manipulation ability of her dear friends.
Until the dream she had a week before the solstice.
The visions that changed everything she knew. Of the dead Beron whispering words of poison into the ears of Tamlin and Rhysand, stoking the embers of a civil war. Of a strange disc located in the depths of Hewn City.
When Elain woke up between the sheets soaked in cold sweat, her anxious heart pounding as her mind spun, she knew that these were visions of a past. But had it already happened or was it a future doomed to change? The ramifications of this changed future would have been devastating - lives lost in conflict, Hybern striking in Prythia's moment of weakness, humans enslaved once more.
Yet, her own heart couldn't get over the images cycling through her mind - her beautiful nephew, Feyre's glowing happiness as she cradled the small swell of her second pregnancy, the soft fond smile that Nesta reserved solely for Cassian. All of it would vanish if Beron succeeded. Her heart wailed and screamed at the prospect. Elain could not allow that to happen. She had to make sure that the past stayed in the past and her present remained unchanged.
So she slipped away in the chaos of the solstice celebration. Her mind reeling in the unending visions of her family losing everything as she gave into the pull of magic in the basement, locating the relic almost instantly. Like calls to like.
One simple touch was all it took to bring her back in the past. To Autumn.
The first few days were rough, bringing back periods of starvation and no Feyre. So Elain adapted. She shoved down her guilt as she stole, lifted and fished for information behind the guise of pretty smiles and flirty touches. Autumn was a court of foxes. And Elain learnt to fit in.
A pop in the firewood pulled her back to the present, to a wooden cottage sequestered deep into the woods behind The Forest House. She stared at the wooden foundations, frowning. She's been here a month and was still no closer to stopping the terrible future.
Making up her mind to head back to the tavern that many of the Autumn courtiers frequent the next day, Elain fell into a fitful sleep, her dreams haunted by devastation and violence as Spring and Night went to war.
***
Elain was roused awake by the pulsating warmth in her chest. The thread purred, soothed by an approaching golden presence. She bit back a sigh, knowing that she probably had seconds before Lucien entered the cottage.
Not for the first time since her journey to the past, Elain wished she learnt to winnow.
Instead, she swung her body upright and ran her fingers through the birdnest of hair to neaten it to some semblance of normalcy. It probably didn't do much as Lucien stepped in, his mouth slightly ajar as he took in the sight before him. From the stolen dresses hanging neatly by the fireplace to the potted plants on the table and finally, Elain, seated on the bed in her nightdress.
She drapped the blanket around her, letting the edges touch the ground when she stood, noticing how the fire wielder's eyes tracked the movement before trailing up the length of her body and settled on her face. She asked sharply, "What are you doing here?"
His eyes widened slightly as he asked incredulously, "What am I doing here? This is my house."
Shit. Elain's cheeks flushed as she retorted defensively, "The interior was in terrible condition when I came. I thought it was abandoned."
Lucien said nothing as he gave the cottage another onceover, his gaze still focused on the various potted plants as he asked, "Which court are you from?" Suspicious russet eyes shifted to her, "Don't even think about lying. Anyone from Autumn would have known that these lands belong firmly in the High Lord's territory."
Knowing that Lucien would be able to catch her out on any lies about hailing from other courts, she admitted, "Night." Praying that the currency hadn't changed much in the past two centuries, Elain flippantly tossed the coins to him, "You can check."
His brows knitted as he stared at the signature embossing of Ramiel and the three stars, wariness joined the suspicion which was already present in his eyes. "What are you doing stealing and squatting here then?"
Mentally assessing how many more half-truths Elain could get away with, she said, "I'm stuck. I accidentally touched a device that transported Me here. I've been," she swallowed thickly, "Trying to reach Night. To reach Rhysand but I couldn't."
The glint in Lucien's eyes told her she was not quite successful. He informed her sharply, "Night's been closed off since the deaths of the High Lord's family. Surely, someone from Night, let alone familiar with Rhysand, would know that."
Elain blinked. That explained a lot but did nothing to assuage the Autumn scion in front of her. She exhaled loudly, continuing, "Look. You're not going to believe me but I'm from the future. There is something I need to do," her mind unwittingly brought forth images of Feyre joyfully swinging Nyx around and Nesta smirking up at Cassian as she twirled his dagger in her hand. She clenched her fist as she met russet eyes unflinchingly, "A future I need to preserve. I'm not here to bring harm to your people. I promise."
She held the gaze, her heart beating anxiously. He had to believe her.
He shook his head, "I don't even know you."
"Elain," she cuts in, then playing dumb, "And you are?"
"Lucien"
"Lucien," She repeated, the name felt almost foreign on her tongue after so long. She pressed on desperately, "We can strike a bargain. If you help me, I'll return to where I came from after I've accomplished my goal. No more stealing."
"Your goal?" He asked assessingly, his eyes narrowed into slits.
She answered promptly, "Prevent Beron from successfully egging Night and Spring into war."
"My help for no harm done to the people of Autumn," he added as the metallic twang of magic gathered and swirled between the both of them.
"No unprovoked or unnecessary harm and regardless, nothing of lasting damage," she returned.
"Unprovoked or unnecessary?" He scoffed, "You need to try harder than that."
"Only in self defense then," she countered, resisting the urge to smile. She had missed battling with words.
"Then you have a bargain," he accepted, "Elain."
"Then we have a bargain," She agreed, closing her palm around his, firmly ignoring the way the bond glowed at the physical contact.
Her forearm tingled as their deal was ratified by their magic. Lucien rolled up his sleeves, revealing a delicate bouquet of flowers inked into his skin. Elain absentmindedly noted the different types of flowers - Lily of the Valley, Hyacinth, forget-me-not.
She nearly scowled at the obvious symbolism.
Her mate gave a breathy chuckle, lightly tracing the tattoo, "You really are from Night."
She raised an arched brow as she threw him an unimpressed look, "Are you still doubting me?"
"No, just my first time seeing the Night bargain tattoos in action." he denied smoothly, his mouth edging upwards as he said lightly, "Why wouldn't I want a tattoo linking me to someone as beautiful as you?"
His gaze darkened as his eyes raked across her form, reminding Elain of, despite the blanket, how exposed she was in the sheer material of her nightdress. Heat gathered in her belly as the bond whispered to her. Claim him. He's ours.
Elain pushed it aside, swallowing thickly as she looked away.
It was too late to regret binding herself further to this dangerously gorgeous male.
***
LUCIEN
Lucien made his way back to the cottage later that evening, winnowing a short distance away from the house. Elain had requested he bring dinner with him, insisting that she was a terrible cook. Something in the way she said it, rushed and panicked, made him doubt that it was the truth.
Elain.
She was an enigma and then some.
She was rolled and wrapped in half-truths. She had shared that she knew him in the future, albeit not well. Although he knew without a shadow of doubt that it went beyond a friend of my sister's.
No, there was something in her eyes, buried deep within perfect smiles, that hid the truth. Something that made Lucien want to unravel and peel back the layers until they laid bare on the ground.
He absentmindedly traced the ink hidden beneath his sleeve for the umpteenth time for the day. It was a revealing habit he had to stop when he got home but for now, he indulged himself.
Agreeing to help her was second nature. The goal itself made it easy to agree. Yet, it was the wide doe eyes and the sound of her banging heartbeat that really made it impossible to deny her. The mere thought of doing so made it feel like a thousand fire ants crawling underneath his skin.
He gave the door two sharp knocks, swinging open moments after. Gone was the disheveled Elain from this morning, an impeccably dressed Fae stood in her place. Lucien found himself missing the mussed hair and cotton night dress.
They ate in silence, moving around each other awkwardly as they passed utensils and condiments. He cleared his throat, "We are hosting a High Lords meeting next month at the Forest House - the first since Spring and Night sworn in their new High Lords. It would be the perfect opportunity for Beron to widen the chasm between Tamlin and Rhysand."
Elain's hands paused mid-air before settling back down on the table, her face turned contemplative, "I will need to speak to Rhysand at the first opportunity I get then," she looked at him pointedly, "You'll need to pass him a note the moment he arrives."
He raised a brow, "What makes you think you can change his mind or even have him agree to the meet?"
She gave an infuriating and secretive smile, raising a slender finger to her lips, "I have my ways."
"Care to share?" He asked loftily.
"That," she said in a teasing lilt, the same smile still pressed on her lips, "would be telling."
Damn, this female might be the death of him. "One day," he promised, "one day you'll tell me."
Lucien pretended not to see the strange shadow passed her face and chose instead to change the subject, "So has Autumn lived up to your expectations?
She tilted her head slightly, "Expectations?"
"I know our reputation precedes us. Not quite as infamous as Night, of course."
"The people here are nicer than I thought. Just normal Fae trying to get by," she admitted, her voice dropping a decibel, "I took no pleasure in stealing from them."
He paused, considering his next words carefully and offered, "One might say that doing what needs to be done to survive is a decidedly Autumn trait. Something which someone in your position did well in."
She looked surprised at the statement before she huffed and looked away, a slight blush powdering her cheeks.
It was the sincerity in her voice as she thanked him that made him think that perhaps, compliments come a little too rarely in her life.
And just maybe, Lucien could change that.
==
ELAIN
~~
Dear Elain,
How do you feel about apple pies for desserts this evening?
Yours,
Lucien
~~
The notebook, with the note written on the first page, appeared on the table a couple of mornings after their first meal together.
Yours.
The word stirred almost unsettlingly within her. It could be nothing more than the pretty words of the Autumn lord. Yet, a part of her enjoyed and relished in it. The same part of her that desperately needed reminding that he would have to forget and she would have to return to the future.
With her mind still distracted with the forget-me potion, she penned her response.
~~
Dear Lucien,
Apple pies sound lovely, thank you.
Would you happen to know if any willowberries grow in the area?
Yours
~~
Crap.
~~
Yours sincerely,
Elain
~~
The exchanging of notes continued as the days went by, growing from simple logistical planning to more personal notes. She knew his favourite breakfast was a hearty plate of eggs, bacons and fried toast but he hated oats. In turn, he would learn her favourite poet, showing up at her doorstep the next day with the book in hand.
He knew she loved gardening because she liked how it felt to cultivate life, and she knew how he loved travelling, meeting new people.
Her time in Autumn was suddenly brighter and more vibrant. For the first time in months, Elain woke up excited for the day ahead. Lucien was due back from Spring that morning and had promised to stop by after lunch.
Then the day came and passed with no Lucien in sight. Elain frowned at the twisted worry wiggling in her chest as she flipped the flatbread in the pan.
He was fine. Probably just extended a day of his visit in Spring.
Right?
Lucien fell to the ground as a blade slashed deeply into his side. He hissed as he stuck his sword into the ground, willing himself to use it as support to stand.
"Get up," a cold voice said.
His eyes gazed upwards into bored amber eyes of his second brother, swearing under his breath as he stood up shakily. He readied himself in a stance.
"Enough," another voice ordered sharply, "He's learnt his lesson."
"Remember your place," the first redhead sneered, "little brother."
Elain gasped, inhaling a waft of acrid char that sent her coughing. Her hands moved automatically to dispose of the burnt black flatbread and replaced it with fresh dough.
Lucien. The twisted worry braided itself into a tightly twined rope as she numbly chewed on her dinner. She pushed her plate away with a huff and picked up a pen.
~~
Dear Lucien,
You've missed our date. Should I be concerned?
Your worried friend,
Elain
~~
A knock on the door drew her out of her stupor a few hours later, eliciting a thrum in her chest. Elain rushed to the door, swinging it open.
Lucien greeted with a lazy smile, “How rude of me to be late for our date.”
She paused, looking past the nonchalance to survey the sweat beading above his lips, his pallid complexion and knuckles pressed white as his fist closed around a bouquet of wild flowers. Her breath came out in ripples as she gingerly wrapped her arms around him, whispering, “I was so worried.”
Warm muscular arms closed around her and settled around her waist, a combination of the petals tickling her sides and the rumbling of his baritone voice sent shivers down her spine, “I really am sorry I’m late.”
Elain extracted herself carefully out of his embrace, “What happened?”
“I was held up by my family, that’s all,” he reassured her verbally while his heart beat weakly and irregularly in his rib cage.
She snorted lightly. She then gently tugged the bouquet from him and pulled him towards the bed, sitting him down.
“Take off your shirt,” she ordered as she grabbed the salve waiting in her pestle and mortar.
“Why, Elain,” he said teasingly, “If I knew being late was such a reward-”
“You’re hurt,” she accused, slightly hurt that he was still trying to hide it from her, “So stop playing and show me.”
Their gazes locked for a moment, his russet eyes wide with surprise before he took off his vest and shirt, hissing in the process. Elain wordlessly unwound the bloody bandages to reveal the clean but deep gash in his side.
“Who did this?” She asked softly, her anger palpable as she shakily applied the salve, earning herself another hiss from her mate.
He sighed, “My brother.”
Her hands paused in mid-air, “Why?”
“My father,” he admitted, his eyes glassy and distant, “He pitted us against each other the moment we got semi-proficient with a blade and a flame.” He laughed bitterly, “Only the worthy can inherit the title of High Lord, he used to say.”
She finished wrapping his torso with fresh bandages and laid him down, settling his head in her lap. The tightly woven braid in her chest loosened, returning her breath to her.
She knew it was the bond that made her this way. Worried and feral but as she threaded her fingers through his silky tresses and the sharp facial features relaxed into the comfort of her lap, she found that she couldn't care less.
“Is this why you bought this cottage?” She asked after a while, her fingers now massaging his scalp.
“Hmm?”
“This cottage,” she repeated, smiling slightly at his sleepy expression, “Is that why you got it?”
“I built it,” he replied sleepily, “I started building out of boredom but I guess, now thinking back, I was building it as an escape.” His hand reached up to grab hers, stopping its movement.
“Lie down with me,” he whined, “You’re so far away up there.”
Elain laughed as she extricated herself to lie down beside him, with her back to his front. His arm rested heavily on her. “Happy?”
He hummed sleepily and tightened his hold on her, “Yes, now sleep.”
Elain lets her eyes fall shut, the even breathing of Lucien slowly lulling her to sleep. Through the haze of sleep, she thought she heard Lucien mumble, “Or maybe I was building this cottage for you this whole time.”
***
“Equinox?" Elain asked through a mouth full of oats.
"It's the Harvest Festival," Lucien explained and grumpily took a bite out of his apple, "It falls the day before the High Lord's meeting. After the ceremony, there's a large bonfire, dancing, fireworks and lots of booze."
"Sounds nice," she commented sincerely.
He looked at her expectantly.
"Will you accompany me to the Equinox?" She asked, the first hint of a smile toying at her lips.
"I would like nothing more," Lucien replied with a smirk which faded as his eyes fell on her bowl of oats, twisting into a grimace, "I can't believe the only breakfast you have in this place is oats. What's wrong with eggs and bacon?"
"First, I ran out of fresh food and second, it's a nutritious breakfast," she retorted primly, as if she did not intentionally make sure that oats, one of the few foods he detested, were the few she kept around the house.
He grunted as he finished off his apple, pulling a quick giggle from her.
"Done?" He asked drily as she put away the washed bowl.
"Are we going somewhere?" She asked back, surprised and stared pointedly at his side, the nagging worry simmering once more, "Should you be going anywhere?"
"I'm fine," he dismissed, waving his hand slightly, "Your salve worked great."
Her brows creased, "Show me," sending him an icy glare, cutting off the teasing remarks before he had a chance to get them out.
He shrugged off his clothes once more, the movement affecting him much less than they did the night more. The wound was less severe, the redness and inflammation around it largely reduced. His gaze was palpable as she silently cleaned the injury, reapplying the salve and bandaged it up. Her hand lingered on the warm flesh a second too long.
Her throat bobbed as he reached out to grab her reclining hand, the movement so slow it seemingly dragged towards him.
He brushed her knuckles against his lips and held it to his bare chest, the emanating heat entrancing and addictive.
The moment held for a beat before she gingerly pulled back her hand, saying softly, "We should get going."
Disappointment flashed across his face before it was masked with impassiveness, "Of course"
Lucien quickly put his shirt back on and held out an arm, winnowing the both of them to the heart of a forest.
"Look up," he pointed with a wry smile.
The trees towered over them, the black silhouettes of the thin branches spread out in bunches contrasted against the backdrop of the bright sky, near but never touching. The canopy layer blanketed them in a cacophony of red, orange and gold, allowing only streams of golden sunlight through.
"It's beautiful," Elain breathed, her neck strained to properly take in the sight above.
She glanced back down at Lucien, looking every inch of the Autumn prince. His brown skin glowed as the light glided off his long auburn hair, his face graced with a soft smile that made her breath hitch. She repeated, "It's beautiful."
Tearing her gaze away, she turned back above. She could feel the weight of russet eyes as he replied, "Yes, it is very much so."
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your heartstopper faves if we could see more of their social media accounts lol: 3/?— NICK NELSON
i’d like to think that nick would try to plan his instagram feed but he’s a bisexual, so he’d be a little indecisive; but he’s trying his best. i love him lol
i really wanna do michael’s instagram next, so drop your fave fancasts of him and other suggestions!!
click the links to check out my other edits; we have CHARLIE and TORI done so far. feel free to like, reblog or comment– i really appreciate it!!
liked by imogen.heaney, reading_with_isaac, cfspring, and 50 others
nicholaszzzzz: a bisexual and “an ally” go camping
[tagged imogen.heaney in a post]
imogen.heaney: that was such an embarrassing moment for me ENOUGH 😭😭
cfspring: i love your little friendship its so cute
imogen.heaney: besties since year 7 (real)
darcytheegg: my fave bisexual with his fave ally
the.xu.tao: me & imogen 🤝 being your supportive straight friends
itsellesuniverse: STOP!! did the tao xu just admit he’s friends with nick nelson
reading_with_isaac: caught 📸📸
liked by nottorispring, michaelholden123, itsellesuniverse, and 101 others
nicholaszzzzz: hacked 🐶🐾
saharsguitar: nellie do you have something to say to the people? 🤨🎤
cfspring: she said “bork” she told me herself
saharsguitar: okay thank you for that follow up
nottorispring: this is so real of you nick
the.xu.tao: this is the only time i’ll like your post nick
michaelholden123: do you guys ever think about what dog breed you’d be? i think i would be goldendoodle or sheepdog
nicholaszzzzz: yes i have actually and we all know i’m the human embodiment of a golden retriever
cfspring: its true, i can vouch for that
liked by cfspring, the.xu.tao, darcytheegg, and 150 others
nicholaszzzzz: another year with my favourite boy. happy birthday my beloved, i love you darling 🤍✨
[tagged cfspring in a post]
itsellesuniverse: i’m literally obsessed with you two
nottorispring: happy birthday you aries legend ♈️
imogen.heaney: you cuties!! happy bday charlie!!
cfspring: i’ll cry nick- i’ll cry so loud
nicholaszzzzz: its my boyfriend privilege to announce your birthday to the world. i love you, my love 💙
tara.jones.xo: absolute cuties– happy birthday charlie!! 🎉
liked by tara.jones.xo, saharsguitar, itsellesuniverse, and 45 others
nicholaszzzzz: tell me you like the mcu without telling me you like the mcu… i’ll go first
nicholaszzzzz: also charlie got me the ‘i love you 3000’ sign and before you all ask, yes i cried
cfspring: you cried a lot, actually 🥹
the.xu.tao: we need to work on expanding your movie taste nicholas because this is a crime
nicholaszzzzz: then you’re gonna be real upset when you see my iron man shrine
tara.jones.xo: the colour coordination of the photo collage, we love to see it
itsellesuniverse: from one artist to another, yes
liked by reading_with_isaac, darcytheegg, itsellesuniverse, and 65 others
nicholaszzzzz: rugby szn ft. a charlie spring cameo
reading_with_isaac: does anyone here actually understand the game of rugby
the.xu.tao: nope absolutely not
tara.jones.xo: why do you think i do ballet?
darcytheegg: at least i got to know the local gays
saharsguitar: i just wanna watch one game
cfspring: SKSKSKSK YES COME WATCH!!
cfspring: @/nottorispring wanna come too? 👀
nottorispring: you would have to pay me so much money to watch a sports game, charles
liked by nottorispring, michaelholden123, saharsguitar, and 20 others
nicholaszzzzz: one thing about me, i LOVE minimalism 🪷
imogen.heaney: i think we as a society need to talk about how nice nick’s handwriting is bc- hello??!!
darcytheegg: okay pull through with the MUJI brand
cfspring: get ✍️ nick ✍️ more ✍️ muji ✍️ stuff ✍️
nicholaszzzzz: stop do not spend that much on me charlie
cfspring: don’t tell me what to do nick
the.xu.tao: stop flirting in the comments pls-
liked by reading_with_isaac, cfspring, imogen.heaney, and 200 others
nicholaszzzzz: staring at the sunset, babe 🌅
the.xu.tao: okay has anyone checked up on charlie?
nottorispring: he’s been screaming and crying for 10 minutes now lol
itsellesuniverse: the taylor swift lyric, okay i like it
saharsguitar: @/cfspring bestie, are you okay?? comment something to let us know
cfspring: OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDD 😭😭😭
cfspring: unfollow me now, this is gonna be the only thing i talk about for the next week
darcytheegg: rip charlie spring, nothing happened to him expect nicholas luke nelson
imogen.heaney: photo credits to me, you’re welcome
liked by cfspring, the.xu.tao, tara.jones.xo, and 159 others
nicholaszzzzz: the world is so obsessed with defining sexuality for everyone and attaching labels to it. any time any person openly leaves the sexual norm, their sexuality becomes, more often than not, the absolute defining characteristic of that person.
it becomes the first thing people think about and often the first thing they mention. every other part of that person all but disappears — dan pearce 💗💜💙
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#heartstopper#incorrect quotes#tori spring#charlie spring#heartstopper incorrect quotes#incorrect heartstopper#solitaire alice oseman#heartstopper alice oseman#nick and charlie#tao xu#sahar zahid#elle argent#darcy olsson#tara jones#taradarcy#taoelle#narlie#sprolden#heartstopper edit#instagram edit#my edits!#nick nelson#isaac henderson#oliver spring#imogen heaney#incorrect heartstopper quotes#osemanverse#aled last#michael x tori#gone with the queue
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Mutinous Russian mercenaries who surged most of the way to Moscow have agreed to turn back to avoid bloodshed, their leader said on Saturday, in a de-escalation of what had become a major challenge to President Vladimir Putin's grip on power.
The fighters of the Wagner private army were just 200 km (125 miles) from the capital, said the leader, former Putin ally Yevgeny Prigozhin. The rebels had captured the city of Rostov hundreds of miles to the south before racing across the country.
"They wanted to disband the Wagner military company. We embarked on a march of justice on June 23. In 24 hours we got to within 200 km of Moscow. In this time we did not spill a single drop of our fighters' blood," Prigozhin said in an audio message.
"Now the moment has come when blood could be spilled. Understanding … that Russian blood will be spilled on one side, we are turning our columns around and going back to field camps as planned."
The decision to halt further movement across Russia by the Wagner group was brokered by Belarusian President Alexander Lukashenko in return for guarantees for their safety, his office said. There was no immediate word on the deal from Putin.
Earlier, Prigozhin said that his "march for justice" was intended to remove corrupt and incompetent Russian commanders he blames for botching the war in Ukraine.
In a televised address from the Kremlin, Putin said Russia's very existence was under threat.
"We are fighting for the lives and security of our people, for our sovereignty and independence, for the right to remain Russia, a state with a thousand-year history," he said, vowing punishment for those who "who prepared an armed insurrection".
Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskiy said the Wagner revolt exposed complete chaos in Russia.
"Today the world can see that the masters of Russia control nothing. And that means nothing. Simply complete chaos. An absence of any predictability," Zelenskiy said in his nightly video address.
Video obtained by Reuters showed troop carriers and two flatbed trucks each carrying a tank driving 30 miles (50 km) beyond Voronezh, more than half way to Moscow. A helicopter fired on them near Voronezh.
More than 100 firefighters were in action at a fuel depot ablaze in Voronezh. Video footage obtained by Reuters showed it exploding in a fireball shortly after a helicopter flew by.
Further along the road, video showed, vehicles apparently placed as barricades to slow Wagner's advance had been tossed to one side.
Prigozhin, whose private army fought the bloodiest battles in Ukraine even as he feuded for months with the military top brass, said he had captured the headquarters of Russia's Southern Military District in the city of Rostov without firing a shot.
'WILL THERE BE CIVIL WAR?'
In Rostov, which serves as the main rear logistical hub for Russia's entire invasion force in Ukraine, residents milled about calmly, filming on mobile phones as Wagner fighters in armoured vehicles and battle tanks took up positions.
One tank was wedged between stucco buildings with posters advertising the circus. Another had "Siberia" daubed in red paint across the front, an apparent statement of intent to sweep across the breadth of Russia.
"Will there be civil war?" a woman in Rostov asked the mercenaries who took over the city. "No, everything will be fine," a fighter answered.
The region surrounding Rostov is an important oil, gas and grains hub.
In a series of hectic messages overnight, Prigozhin had demanded that Defence Minister Sergei Shoigu and the chief of the general staff Valery Gerasimov should come to see him in Rostov.
'SIGNIFICANT CHALLENGE'
Western capitals said they were closely following the situation in nuclear-armed Russia. U.S. President Joe Biden spoke with the leaders of France, Germany and Britain, while Secretary of State Antony Blinken spoke to counterparts from G7 nations.
The top U.S. military officer, Army General Mark Milley, cancelled a scheduled trip to the Middle East because of the situation in Russia.
The insurrection risked leaving Russia's invasion force in Ukraine in disarray, just as Kyiv is launching its strongest counteroffensive since the war began in February last year.
"This represents the most significant challenge to the Russian state in recent times," Britain's defence ministry said.
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Congrats on the 200!! I hope you get many more because you're an amazing writer I wish I could eat your fics like some fancy man at a bourgeois dinner
And I hope I'm doing this right, for the follower count special how about a song I listen to a lot when I write some of the 'edgier' characters Paper Love - Allie X With Crosshair or Hunter? (take your pick because I can't /sob)
MY LOVE, MISTY ❤️❤️ I missed you and thank you so much, I wish I could give you 10,000 hugs! (Edit: I finally have anon asks on, didn't realize they weren't on)
And you are doing it right --
200 Follower Special!
•--•
Just Love Me
Crosshair x Reader Smut
Summary: It's depressing, how dedicated you are to a man you believe doesn't love you. But does he believe the same thing?
Warnings: reader insecure about themselves, crying, sex for comfort, mentions of reader having longer hair (apologies), oral (f!receiving), SUGGESTIVE CONTENT, fluffy
A/n: I'm very sorry for this, I really got into my feels for this one.
GIF NOT MINE!!
•--•
You smoothed your black dress over your curves. It was a cold night, and you weren't aiming to look entirely nice in the blaring lights of 79's. You slipped on a maroon turtleneck, avoiding the clean cloth touching your face that was stained with black mascara. Crying had really took it out of you, but what did you find the outcome to be?
You let your hair down, running your hands through the locks. You tapped a tear that ran down your cheek, avoiding smearing any more of your mascara.
Maker, you looked terrible. What would Crosshair say? Well, whatever your guess would be, you would find out soon. He'd never seen you this disheveled, but you weren't gonna waste precious time cleaning up your face when mascara would be running later that night anyways.
You ran back to him everyday, looking for the same exact thing, the only thing that convinced you that you were good enough for somebody. He praised you cause he thought you were into it sexually, and yes you were, but it filled your heart when he made the comments he was convinced were harmless. Those are what kept you coming back to him. He unknowingly kept your person tied to his belt with a leash.
He would never love you, you knew it every time he left you cold in your bed, retreating to meet up with his crew before they started to question his disappearance. Why would someone so skilled, so handsome, so special love someone that was rough, ugly, so useless.
You were his, undeclared, but there was nothing you could do to forget that. To tear yourself away from someone who so absentmindedly kept your head slightly higher than it used to be. You had grown to love him. You couldn't help loving him, as much as he walked away, when he called you pretty, when he called you his in the heat of the moment, you couldn't help but belong to him.
Your apartment wasn't far, maybe 2 blocks from where 79's was as you walked quickly. Combat boots you had slipped on clapped against the concrete of Coruscant's underworld.
Crosshair wouldn't care to see your mascara smeared, would he? If you tried to take him home like you tried every night he was on shore leave, would he push you away? Maybe he'd be too drunk to notice.
Walking through the doors, you spotted him immediately, by his lonesome. And his eyes met your in a hot second, the thought of him waiting for you to walk through the door wrung your heart out like a washcloth. It fed into that hope that maybe he loved you just as much.
You walked toward him, and he just stood there and waited, eyes trained on you with a permanent scowl. His mood seemed to shift as you came into the colored lights that flashed here and there. You face came into clear view and his fingers tightened against the curves of the glass.
"You've been crying," he spoke first, voice silky and spread like butter through the air.
You clenched your jaw and looked away for a moment. You felt embarrassed under his watchful eye, this always made you feel embarrassed, feeling like you needed him to breath was humiliting.
You looked at his neck, half exposed, the lower half covered by his blacks. Eye contact was the last thing you wanted to make right now. He knew you were avoiding it. He always knew.
"Can I- Can I please just take you home?" you asked, voice sharply cracking. You hadn't spoken since you started crying, the only noises were broken sobs. If he didn't have all the clues before, he certainly did now.
Crosshair placed his half-full drink on an empty booth table, taking your face into both of his hands. You were forced to look at him in this position, and you wished he'd just let you keep your head down. He looked disappointed, you knew this was a horrible idea. Coming here and seeing him when you looked a wreck.
"What happened, tell me why you're crying."
"That's not important-"
Crosshair's index and middle fingers pressed down slightly on your jaw involuntarily, expressing his increasingly tense attitude, "It is very important."
Your eyes began to sting with tears, making you bite your lip while he glared down at you with fierce eyes. You could tell him, but what if he thought you were using him? What if he thought that you only came to him because he made you feel good? What if he didn't understand that you were so in love with him it hurt?
"I just.. I wasn't feeling good tonight. I- I missed you Crosshair, can we just go home?" you asked, trying to avoid his pursing lips and the way he looked like he was about to snap at you. Home. Would he respond to that? Would he understand where you wanted to go? Your home was his home, you'd said that one night, drunk off your mind. He never responded, not a word. Maybe in his anger he would understand, maybe he would yell at you and express that he wasn't going home. Maybe he'd call it home then.
But he never did snap, he never yelled, he just slipped his hands down to grab both of yours and pulled you with him. He lead the way to your apartment, pushing through drunken citizens of Coruscant and arguments. He moved to having you caged in his arms, his chest pressed to your back as you walked through the Underworld.
The streets were colder than they had been moments before, but you didn't even care, you and Crosshair walked with long strides as you both made your way to the same place you had every night.
You began unlocking the door, and against what usually happened, his hands stayed to himself. He only hovered behind you, the shadow of his lean figure darkening your sight. Maybe he wanted what you wanted tonight, but he didn't express it. Why did this all feel so different. This wasn't how the night was supposed to go.
The moment your door opened, he neared your back and encouraged you inside. You quickly shuffled, him shutting the door behind you two before snatching at your wrist and pulling your turtleneck over your head. It was thrown to the hardwood floor with a smack before hid hands were on you.
Turning you around, his other hand came to your face in a gesture that melted your heart. It was always clinking teeth together and sloppy kissing in your hallway, never him holding your face like you'd leave. His hands usually gripped and kneaded at your waist, never touched you like you'd break in half.
His lips pressed to yours in a fervent kiss, your blood running cold. This was different, this was so much different. Had you picked up the wrong man at 79's? Nobody else looked like him, but Crosshair didn't touch you like this. He didn't kiss you like this. Crosshair kissed you like he was one push away from eating you alive. The man holding you kissed you like you were a glass statue of his deceased lover.
You pulled away, no saliva covering your lips like it usually did and your stomach boiled for a different reason.
"Crosshair, what's wrong?"
He grunted, hands releasing you as they moved to wrap around your waist and pull you flush to his chest, "Why don't you answer that first, Doll?"
His lips glided against your neck, pressing soft kisses along the hollow of it.
"I.." he stopped when you begun to speak, waiting for the explanation he deserved. Were you really ready to admit it? Yes, you were. Even if it meant losing him forever, you were ready to admit it.
"I want you to want me."
He was silent for a moment before laughing quietly. Laughing was something he didn't do a whole lot with you. But his genuine laugh broke out, and it made you wanna melt into a puddle on the floor.
His right hand rubbed up and down the dip in your back where your spine trailed, "I do want you, Doll. I wouldn't be here if I didn't want you."
"No.. no, I don't mean that, I mean.."
He breathed in the scent of your skin, pressing a fluffy kiss to your shoulder. You reached up to hold his shoulders, grasping at him equally as tight as he was holding you.
"I want you to love me."
It seemed like the hallways had started pushing at you, growing tighter and tighter till it felt like you'd suffocate in the arms of the soldier. He was still, the only thing keeping you from believing he wasn't dead was his breath beating against your bare skin.
Then his chest vibrated, his stomach started twitching and you felt his breath start fanning in patterns. He was laughing. That asshole was laughing at you once again. You felt a tear start to fall down your cheek, leaving a trail of faded gray in it's wake.
You felt humiliated, absolutely stupid. Of course he would laugh, what else did you think he would do? You were stupid for thinking he could ever love you.
The hold you had on his shoulders started loosening as your heart broke more and more. This was stupid.
Crosshair pulled away from you, still holding your waist with a loose grip. He had a light smile on his face, he thought this was genuinely funny.
"Maker above all, you are too cute," he whispered, swiping your tear away, "Let me show you something."
He didn't allow you to grant him permission as he dragged you by your arm, whisking you away towards your bedroom. Your heart still felt swollen and you would've been out of the mood if it was anyone else treating you like he was. But it was Crosshair, and you would've done anything for him.
He laid you down on the bed with a practiced softness to his touch. He was never like this. This wasn't Crosshair. Had you truly messed up who you took home? No, because nobody in the universe sounded like him, nobody would ever.
He rolled up the lower half of your dress, letting it bunch up across your stomach. You never bothered with panties when your knew he was taking you home, so he was met with your wetness immediately, legs opened for him just how he liked. Your hole glistened with slick, encouraging him to eat you up. And he wanted to.
As he sunk down onto his stomach, moving your thighs to rest against his shoulder with ease, he stared up at you.
"My pretty Doll, you don't know a lot, do you?" he asked, nipping at your thighs, licking the spots where his teeth grazed.
You pet your hands through his grey hair, soft under your fingers, so soft. He was so precious today, so sweet and gentle. What happened?
"Other women, they've been trying what you do lately. Coming up to me, making a bold statement," he bragged.
It made you jealous, hurt. Your stomach clenched, a whine escaping you as his tongue flicked at your bud teasingly. You looked down at to see his watchful eyes still on yours. He was pretty between your legs. Other nights, he was handsome or sexy. Tonight he was just so pretty.
"I've never taken any of them home," he added, licking up your wet slit, lips coming to wrap around your clit and a suck a moan out of you. He hummed in happiness to the noise, continuing to lick at you with a skillful tongue.
You tilted your head back, upset you couldn't see him. But how slow your brain processed his works forced you to take a break from looking at him. Crosshair hasn't been with anyone since you..
You whine, rolling your hips against his face, connecting eyes again, his shining with delight, "Wh- What does that mean.. why?"
He drank you like you were his favorite glass of alcohol. Like you were that cup he left behind to be picked up and dumped by a server droid. Like every glass he'd ever left behind to take you home.
"It means that I do love you," he muttered into your folds.
•--•
Masterlist
#star wars x reader#star wars smut#star wars x reader smut#crosshair#clone trooper crosshair#clone trooper crosshair x reader#crosshair x reader#crosshair x reader smut#crosshair smut#clone trooper crosshair smut#the bad batch smut#the bad batch x reader smut
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Hi, first of all. CONGRATS TO 200+ FOLLOWERS🎉🎉🎉
You deserve it Ally ♥️
For the prompts: I know that I am a cheesy sap, sorryHow does "I'll be here to protect you." sound for Kakashi?
Maybe one where he had a bad nightmare (again) but for the first time the reader sees him really panicky and frantic and he tries to hide so she doesn't see him like this.
But she encourages him and calms him down by saying "I'll be here to protect you." (tho this boi doesn't need that at all ahahah).
And she just has this smiling and precious aura
And for the first time in a while he actually feels calm and not tense
Sorry if I did this wrong, I'm fairly new to Tumblr and I really enjoy your talent.
Have a great day ♡
Kakashi — "I'll be here to protect you." 545 words
Ahhhh! You’re so sweet, thank you! ♡ Kakashi deserves all the protection, even if he doesn’t need it. I really hope you enjoy this. It's a little angsty, I got a little carried away. Kakashi is honestly one of my favorites to write for.
Kakashi woke up with a start, skin sticking to the sheets underneath him and a heavy weight against his chest. His fingers fumbled around, but they didn’t have to go far as they made contact with your arm. You were already so close to him, and as the haze inside his mind started to disperse, he realized your fingers were brushing through his hair. You were humming something, something soft; or maybe you were speaking. The muffled sounds of his blood rushing through his veins was too loud to decipher which one.
This wasn’t the first time he had awoken from a nightmare, and you’re certain it wouldn’t be the last, but this was the first time you slept beside him to witness it. You watched as he tried to curl away from you, as he tried to sit up, his bare back blocking your line of vision. You avoided touching his skin, avoided hovering and looking directly into his eyes, but he still turned his back to you, so you continued humming; watched every anxious tick, flinch and jitter of his nerves wave through his shoulders; watched the shaky inhale and exhale of his body as he heaved and tried to gulp down oxygen. But more importantly, you waited - quietly and patiently - and he didn’t know what to do.
You didn’t demand to know what was wrong, didn’t ask him a million times if he was okay as all the others did. You waited, humming that stupid song he said he liked when you guys went grocery shopping yesterday. He heard the bed rustle, the dip as your weight moved closer to him and he tensed, side eyeing you as you got out of the bed. He watched you walk to your closet, pulling out the hoodie you stole from his apartment two weeks ago. His favorite one, even if he didn’t wear it any more. You sat down on the floor in front of him, smiling softly as your eyes rested on his knees. His eyebrows furrowed as he watched you slip your arms inside the sleeves, hands stuck under the fabric before you took his bare hands in your covered ones.
“Would you like some tea?” How could you speak so kindly to me? “I can make some quickly. Or maybe some breakfast. I think there’s a diner open.” He squeezed your hand, and you smiled so genuinely, so gently at him. His heart was pounding against his ribcage. You didn’t look him in the eye when you spoke again, and he was almost disappointed as much as he was relieved. “I’ll be here to protect you-”
Kakashi took a deep, albeit shaky, breath, cutting you off, and climbed off the bed. He sat on your thighs, legs wrapped around your middle and his head buried into your neck. He was so much bigger than you were, with his broad shoulders and toned thighs. Standing, you only reached up to his collarbones. So why - why in this very moment - why did he feel so small? Why did he feel so safe when he folded himself in half and curled in your lap?
“I can’t promise to keep the nightmares away, but I can promise to be here when they’re much too tough to bear.”
Ally's 200 Followers Prompts Event
#answered#kakashi#kakashi x reader#200 followers#prompts#event#fluffy angst#naruto#allyallygator#ally writes
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A Warrior’s Cry
Summary: While battling Hybern’s lost allies, Cassian and Nesta are separated on the battlefield. Cassian’s worst fear comes true as Nesta is injured in battle. (Nessian One-Shot set 200 years after ACOSF)
Read on AO3
Word Count: 2.1k
Pairing: Nesta x Cassian
Warnings: Major Character Injury, Descriptions of Blood and Violence
A/N: I hope you all enjoy this. I really wanted to write a fic like this for awhile and finally got up the courage to do so. Im open to more Nessian prompts and questions so feel free to ask away.
The battle was bleak but harsh. Hybern’s lost allies had attacked with deadly precision. When Rhys and the other High Lords of Prythian chose a battleground they usually chose it well. But nothing could have prepared them for this slaughter. The Allies had used the last 200 years to plan this battle in their favor. They had littered the ground with mines made of faebane, even going as far as to grow the grass that lined the battlefield with it. By the time everyone realized what was happening, it was too late to back down. No amount of faebane anecdote could nullify the amount that clouded the air.
The Illyrian legions and Seraphim forces took to the ground as many were being shot out of the sky. Nesta had ridden in leading her fellow Valkyrie on pegasuses granted to them by Helion years ago but quickly followed suit. The new weapons made of ash wood with bullets laced with faebane were a shock to everyone. They were proving to be utterly lethal.
Mud mixed with blood splashed upon Athena’s white coat as Nesta rode her into a group of Allies. Smoke went up in plumes from the battlefield and the clinking of swords and firing of weapons drowned out the sound of the fallen still clinging to life.
Nesta swung Ataraxia with great force, downing two men before they could even swing their own swords. She had traded in her Illyrian leathers years ago for the gray and royal blue of the Valkyrie. Emerie, Gwyn, and her had argued over the design for what felt like decades before they finally decided on one that felt unique to them and emphasized their strength.
She had lost sight of them ages ago and could only pray that they were holding up on the battlefield. She had also lost sight of Cassian as the overhead forces took the field. After being mated for over 200 years, she couldn't help but feel terrified at the thought of losing him here. Their daughter Amelia, had stayed behind in the camps with Elain. Though she proved to be a great warrior, she and Cassian had insisted she wasn’t ready for this kind of battle–and they were right. Nesta couldn't imagine their daughter being out here, what would happen if she got hurt or worse.
Far off in the distance, she could make out the blonde braid of Mor’s hair as she fought relentlessly against a male almost twice her size. A glimpse of blue caught Nesta’s attention to the right of Mor–there stood Azriel gutting their enemies with the swiftness of a cat and the stealth of a shadow. She had no idea what front of the field Feyre and Rhys had taken, only that they undoubtedly took it together with Nyx closely by their side.
The sound of Ataraxia’s blade slamming against the males in front of her did little to calm her mind. She took him down and quickly rode further into the battlefield. Athena was again swarmed by more soldiers. Nesta reached for her short blade at her side and exerted all her focus on taking down their enemies and getting through this battle. Finally taking down Hybern’s lost allies and sympathizers, an era of potential peace–the calm before the next storm.
Nesta was so focused on what lay in front of her that she didn’t feel the shudder up her back as an enemy sharpshooter aimed their weapon for her. Though the mile between them made it difficult to get a clear shot of her vital body parts, he aimed anyway and landed a calculated blow in Nesta’s abdomen. She hissed and nearly screamed as it tore through her flesh but kept battling the soldiers ahead.
She managed to take down five more soldiers before another shot rang out, hitting Nesta a few inches below her collarbone. Blood sprayed all over Athena’s white coat. Nesta dropped her short blade, her left arm going limp from the pain and the faebane quickly taking effect. Before she could attempt to raise Ataraxia again, another shot rang out. This time it hit Athena, causing the pegasus to flare its wings and rear up. Another shot aimed at Athena’s chest struck, causing her to let out a wounded cry. The angle caused Nesta’s foot to get stuck in the stirrup and as Athena went down, so did she.
—
Cassian took in the destruction left by the battle around him. Bodies covered portions of the field, a variety of broken wings and limbs sticking up at odd angles. Fires smoldered from blown mines and parts of the ground laid bare. He had landed from the sky miles away from where the battle had started, losing Nesta in the process. Gods he knew she could handle herself, but he worried for her.
He continued to patrol the now calm field doing a quick estimate of casualties and eyeing the weapons of fallen enemy soldiers. He prayed that Nesta was okay and heading back to the camp, back to their daughter and family.
He hadn't spotted Rhys or Azriel but assumed his brothers made it out of the battle in one piece by the quiet and calm feeling at the thought of them. The faebane weapons and grown field had shocked all of them. They had been taking the anecdote in preparation but were taken aback at the amount that coated the plants in the ground and settled into the air. As soon as Cassian felt it, he felt weak–almost sick but he powered through.
The casualties were great but Prynthian had again emerged victorious. Now all he wanted to do was go home, rest, make love to Nesta until they were both hoarse, and enjoy peace while it lasted. Anything to chase the thoughts of those who would be grief-stricken as their loved ones didn't return home.
Cassian, Ferye’s tense voice filled his head.
Feyre? Is everyone-
It’s Nesta…She’s hur-
Cassian took off into the skies before Feyre could even finish the sentence.
He landed outside their tent, shaking the ground with the impact of his landing. As he stood to his full height, he took in the figures of Emerie, Mor, Gwyn, Azriel, and lastly Rhysand standing in front of the opening to the tent. Their battered faces were pale and held grim expressions. He began to storm towards the opening in the tent but Rhys stopped him. All the stars in his eyes had disappeared, and Cassian thought the worst. He could already smell the tang of Nesta’s blood leaking out of the tent.
Rhys leveled his stare. “Amelia, Elain, and Feyre are already inside along with Madja. They’re doing everything they can. She was-”
Cassian pushed past Rhys into the tent before he could say another word. And there on a cot set in the middle of the space lay an unconscious Nesta. Cassian could feel eyes on him but could only focus on the paleness of Nesta’s skin, the way her hair had dimmed, and how her chest struggled to move up and down. There were cloths stained with her blood scattered around Madja as she worked to dip a fresh one in the red-tinted water of a basin. Elain hovered over Madja with a smaller bowl in her hands that looked like it contained removed bullets. Feyre knelt on the other side of Nesta, holding Aria close as his daughter held Nesta’s hand and sobbed over the state of her mother.
“Dad?” Cassian snapped out of his stupor long enough to look at his daughter. He was met by her eyes, her mother’s eyes, framed by the dark waves of her hair and emphasized by the slight tan of her skin. Her wings laid limply folded to the side as if she was too depressed to keep them up.
Feyre moved away as he knelt next to his daughter and took her in his arms. Her tears stained his fighting leathers as he rubbed her back in an attempt to calm her. After several moments he repositioned her so she could place her head on his shoulder as they observed Madja’s magic working to heal Nesta’s internal wounds.
Cassian asked to whoever, “What happened?”
Gwyn answered. “I found her on the field partially under Athena. I knew she was bleeding out and managed to maneuver the pegasus off her legs. I flagged down Nyx and he winnowed us here.”
Cassian took a second to absorb the information knowing that everyone tensely waited for his reply. But he looked at Nesta’s pale face and asked, “Will she be okay?”
Madja leaned over Nesta’s abdomen, face tense with sweat gathering at her temples as she focused her magic on the shredded hole left by a bullet. “I was able to remove the bullets and any leftover fragments. The faebane residue mixed with the ash wood is making it very difficult to properly heal the damaged muscle but I am cleaning and closing the wounds at an albeit slow pace. The weight and impact of the pegasus falling on her fractured her pelvis and her left fibula. I already mended the bone to the best of my abilities, she’ll have difficulty walking for a while but should recover just fine.”
Cassian let out a long sigh that he didn’t realize he was holding. He felt Amelia relax slightly beside him and take in a deep breath. Nesta was going to be okay, he had almost lost her but she will be ok. He quietly thanked the Mother for sparing Nesta’s life, for giving them more time together, for letting their daughter have a mother for a longer time than they each had with theirs.
Everyone slightly started as Nesta stirred and groaned as she slowly gained consciousness. Cassian was quick to move closer and take her hand in his. Her now dull eyes focused on him, she moved her mouth to speak.
Cassian attempted to calm her. “Shhh, don’t talk. Everything’s okay, you're okay Nes. I’m here, everyone is here.”
Nesta’s gaze caught on Amelia as she moved closer. Her eyes filled with worry as she took in Amelia's tear-stained face and sad smile. “I thought I lost you, mom. I love you so much.”
He let go of Nesta’s hand at that moment. She weakly and slowly reached up to Amelia’s face, placing her hand on her cheek. Amelia let out a choked sob as Nesta attempted to wipe away her tears. It was as if it finally hit their daughter that Nesta would be ok, she wasn't going to be losing her mother today–not yet.
Nesta’s eyes drifted back to Cassian as Amelia started to move away. He took the opportunity to move closer, placing his brow against the side of her face and taking her hand in his once again. He inhaled her sunkissed winter scent and mentally thanked the Mother again. He sensed the movement of everyone excluding Madja leaving the tent.
As he looked into Nesta's eyes, he saw their past and their future. How she had pushed him away, how they came together as she healed from her past, and their extravagant but intimate mating ceremony. The joy they felt when finding out she was pregnant with Amelia to the birth of their daughter months later. He thought of those nights spent in each other's company as he tried not to fall asleep while she stayed up reading past dawn. The times when Amelia was small enough to squeeze in between them, her little wings slightly fluttering as she dreamed. He remembered falling asleep watching Nesta hold their daughter close. Cassian looked to the future and cherished all the little things in it. Nesta was his world, his everything. And after coming this close to losing her, Cassian let his tears fall.
He closed his eyes and took in a shaky breath. “You scared the hell out of me, Nes. I thought ‘this is the moment I lose her, the love of my life is being taken from me.’ I started making mental vows to Amelia and promising to love her with twice the amount of love to make up for what she would’ve lost from you. I was already giving myself reasons to go on and not fall into that place of numbness. The thought of living my life without you terrified me. A world without you, is a world without my soul. But here you are, my strong Valkyrie who always persists. I love you, and Mother above, please don’t scare me like this again.”
Cassian could barely make out Nesta’s face through his tears but the squeezing of his hand in hers made him blink rapidly to see her face. As she became clearer, he noticed that she was crying too. And in her eyes lay the answer to all his problems, all his worries–the words that could heal everything in his heart.
I love you too.
#nessian#nesta x cassian#acosf#nesta archeron#acotar#nessian fanfiction#ao3#nessian fic#nessian one shot#acowar#a court of silver flames#acotar fanfiction#sarah j maas
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After nearly two whole months of waiting, I finally got an ability strength invigoration from Helminth. My dream of making as many knives as possible starts now.
Under normal circumstances, my Baruuk has 319% ability strength, which I buff up to 369% with Empower. I can’t remember exactly, but I believe this usually gets me 32 knives.
With my new, Helminth-invigorated ability strength of 519%, I summon 41 knives before any other buffs.
I got to 52 knives by adding the following buffs:
- Empower (+50% strength)
- Zenurik (+20% strength)
- Equinox ally running Rage (+50% strength)
- Madurai chained sling (+40% strength)
I don’t plan on stopping here. I need more knives. To that effect, I will be adding the following buffs:
- Molt Augmented at 250 kills (+60% strength)
- Molt Vigor (+45% strength)
- Growing Power (+25% strength)
- Equinox ally running Power Donation (+30% strength, won’t affect Equinox Rage bonus if their strength is high enough)
- Void fissure warframe corruption (x2 total strength value)
I wonder if I can hit 200 knives. Wish me luck.
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ok but i have many thoughts abt jack's family. hopefully this is coherent but i'm just writing what i think of so buckle up lol
he says that him being a werewolf is a family thing so were they all werewolves? i love that image; every full moon the entire family just turns into werewolves. sibling werewolves, baby werewolves, parent werewolves, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents. it's like a big family reunion every month lol
One thing I love abt wolves in general is how surprisingly similar their family dynamics are w humans’. They play w their siblings and they bother their parents and they fight and they get in trouble and do everything humans do. So when the entire family changes into werewolves, that’s basically it. They still act and interact the same way, they just look different. You still have ‘long suffering mom,’ ‘baby that won’t stop crying,’ ‘annoying little sibling,’ ‘cool older cousin,’ ‘grandma who secretly spoils her grandkids but you don’t want to cross her,’ all the good family roles lol Basically I want to see a werewolf family all hanging out and just being together
But now on a more angsty note, Jack always refers to his family in the past tense. Did smth happen to them? In in interview they said Jack could be between 200-400 years old but looks like he’s in his 40s-50s which means, using a human lifespan as a ratio, a werewolf could potentially live over 1000 years. They would be really old but it’s possible. So unless there was some werewolf disease that went around, it’s unlikely jack outlived his family bc of natural causes. If they all got hunted… that makes the show sadder and angsty but I think that’s giving too much credit to the hunters lol There were four of them against one of jack in the show and they still all died. Plus all those guards he killed… And they had the bloodstone and still lost… So idk how likely it is that his whole family got hunted lol
He also mentions in the tomb w Elsa that by doing smth very specific, we try not to be like our families even tho they follow us. Maybe his family’s still alive but he chose to leave. Maybe they were really into the killing and violence part of it and he couldn’t take it anymore. Or maybe he did smth ‘dishonorable,’ like Elsa, and got disowned. Idk there are a lot of possibilities here.
Maybe that’s why he was being so eager to make friends w her beyond having a powerful ally. Although I think he is just naturally polite and kind, he really went much further in trying to befriend Elsa than the other hunters he talked to. Maybe he thought that since they were both (possibly) kicked out of their own families, or at least were the black sheep, they could band together in a more substantial way.
But either way, the point is, he’s supposed to have a big family and as far as we’ve seen all he has now is Ted (and maybe Elsa? Who knows). I need him to have a big found family made up of all his friends and they all love and support each other
#i think abt this a lot#marvel#mcu#wwbn#werewolf by night#jack russell#ted sallis#man thing#elsa bloodstone#werewolves#werewolf by night meta#I guess
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A Flicker Of Hope
Pairing: Sam Winchester X Witch!Reader (she/her)
Requested by: @maddiebwrites
Written for: my 200 follower celebration (open)
Word Count: 2,674
Warnings: mentions of torture, non graphic descriptions of torture, the Cage, blood magic, nightmares/hallucinations, spoilers season 7
Summary: The wall in Sam's mind was deteriorating with every passing day and still he held on. Y/N had to make sure that he didn't need to any more
A/N: a whooole lot of angst whoops. But we've got a happy ending, I promise. Prompt is in bold. Also sorry if the wording is weird and/or inaccurate because unfortunately I am not a witch myself
To most, she was an abomination. A creature parents warned their children about, a woman no one dared to anger.
To the Winchesters, she was a great friend and an even more powerful ally. Y/N was one of, if not the greatest witch of the world. Her hexes had saved their pretty asses more than once and it was currently the only thing that kept her in contact with Sam.
Like most evenings since his return from the Cage, Y/N was sitting in front of her altar, one knee pulled up against her chest, the other tucked under her butt, and cast a minor tracking spell. It had become a nightly ritual to check in on her boyfriend now that she knew that his soul was back in his body and the world was still ending. In true Winchester stubbornness, Sam had refused her offer to accompany them for a simple ghost hunt - his reasoning being that they couldn't afford to put her in danger's way.
Of course, it was Sam's rather old school view on her gender and his general abandonment issues than Y/N actually being in danger. But for now, she had decided to humour him. Mostly to restock her shelf of ... unusual ingredients. There were borders even Sam was queasy to cross when it came to certain animal body parts utilised in her spells especially after the new return of his soul. And Y/N understood that.
As the pendulum drifted over the map Y/N had spread out, it came to a pretty surprising halt. Before she could investigate it further with a more detailed map, Y/N felt the wardings around her house being breached by a familiar energy.
Newfound enthusiasm had her on her feet a heartbeat later and Y/N ran to open the door, hair askew, one of Sam's old shirts the only piece of clothing besides a pair of underwear.
"Sam!"
Sam had just raised his hand to knock, eyebrows pulled up in confusion when the door was opening before his fist had the chance to connect with the wood. "Did you put a tracking spell on me?"
"Don't be ridiculous," she waved off and put her hands on his hips, eyes scanning for visible injuries. The only noticeable one was a scratch on his cheek that she kissed quickly, "of course I did."
That got her the expected response. Sam drew back from her touch, a deep line between his eyebrows as indignation started to form in his mind. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means that you and your brother have the survival instincts of a suicidal squirrel and frankly I love you so I'd like to know how fast I have to travel to get you back from the dead." Y/N squared her shoulders while she was telling him her reasons; this was something she refused to be ashamed of. Why have this power when she couldn't use it to help Sam?
Several responses were evidently running through Sam's mind. But because Y/N was known for her temper and because he didn't come to fight, he stopped the knee jerk reaction of shouting. Eventually, the truth in her words seemed to settle in.
Sam sighed. "Promise that you tell me next time before you practice magic that outdoes angel mojo?"
"Everything for you, Baby," she said softer than before and tugged at the hem of his shirt again. "But first you get a nice long shower and then a good night of sleep, yeah?"
At first, Y/N couldn't tell what had woken her up. The room was still pitch black, all the wardings were intact as a little reach-out of her magic proved and Sam was still asleep next to her.
Then, it happened again. Sam twitched, his knees jerked up as if he wanted to curl in on himself and his hand tightened into her shirt where his arm was resting on her waist. His right knee hit Y/N's thigh. Her instinct reaction was to get a hold of it.
What she didn't expect was for Sam to flinch away from the touch. He moved with such a force that only a hastily cast spell prevented him from falling out of the bed. Only when his body hit the magic shield, Sam woke up with a gasp.
"Sam?" Y/N whispered into the darkness, afraid of scaring him if she spoke with full volume.
The silence stretched on as did Y/N's worries. The only noise were tiny gasps from Sam as he seemingly was regaining his senses.
"I'm fine," he croaked out finally.
She had almost laughed. "You're anything but, Darling."
Immediately, his breathing evened out - most likely a practice from his childhood. To stop her from worrying. Of course, it led to the opposite.
"Really, I am," Sam tried again and forced his muscles to relax.
Y/N was feeling sick to her stomach. Even for Sam this were new levels of avoidance. It had to be bad.
"Tell me what's wrong." She kept the distance between them, and instead leaned over to switch on the night light.
No magic involved.
But it was enough to have Sam flinch again. His face was whiter than the bedroom wall and now that the warm light of the tiny lamp illuminated it, Y/N could see that his entire body was covered in a cold sweat.
Sam hadn't even looked this bad when Dean had locked him in the panic room to drain his system of the demon blood.
And then, it clicked.
Dean had told her about the wall that was guarding Sam's consciousness from the memories of the cage that Death had installed. Had told her about the fragility of it. And Y/N had known then already that it wouldn't hold forever; she hadn't dared to voice these thoughts just then. Dean had looked like a wave of a feather would have knocked him out.
But the wall was deteriorating and the memories of hell were obviously plaguing Sam.
Who was currently forcing himself into a sitting position to show how peachy, really nothing he was. "It's nothing. Don't worry, Y/N."
"Sam." She rose to her knees, pulled the blanket from underneath her and gently placed it over her boyfriend.
Hell wasn't really burning. No, hell was ice so biting cold that it felt like the flesh was being carved from your bones. So Y/N activated the warming spell she had woven into the blanket and tucked it around Sam's knees.
Eventually, he looked up and met her eyes. "Y/N."
"Can I please see?" She asked softly, hands hovering between them.
Sam was visibly fighting with himself. But his guard was still down, all the energy drained by the dream. Finally he nodded. "But make it quick."
"You won't feel a thing," Y/N promised and closed the distance.
She placed her hands on either side of his face, no pressure behind it. The only thing needed was the skin-on-skin contact for her to take a look at the wall. It also had the side effect that she could feel the humourless chuckle from Sam vibrating in his skull. "It's not what I'm worried about."
While he was speaking, Y/N understood what he meant. The wall was next to non existent. Worse, Sam was so deeply pulled into his mind that he couldn't tell what was real. The Lucifer inside his mind had him almost convinced that she was the illusion - the oasis of peace that made the torture even worse.
Remembered anguish, so all consuming and graphic was clawing at the wall and pushing reality to the corners of Sam's mind. Y/N would have long been collapsed hadn't the connection to Sam been filtering it. She was feeling just a smidge of the torture he was experiencing at all times. That thought alone was what kept her from wanting to succumb to the agony that was now breaking into her mind as well.
"How are you still breathing?" Y/N realized that she was panting when Sam was the one leaning over to check her condition.
Immediately, Y/N was regathering her wits. So it was worse than she had expected. But she could still work with it.
Meanwhile, Sam grinned, gallow's humour dripping from every pore. "Pure Winchester stubbornness."
"That won't cut it," she said absentmindedly while she was going through the ingredients she would need for the spell - she had been working on it since Death installed the wall.
Only when Sam visible deflated, Y/N realised how harsh she had been. So she hurried to add, "but I know what will. I'll start the spell right now."
"You do?" For the first time, a genuine emotion flicked over his face. It was just the barest hint of a rise of his lips but it was there. Hope Sam not yet dared to let bloom.
But Y/N wanted to nurture that hope. She reached out and took his hand in hers. "Yes Sam, I do."
"But how?" Doubts were pulling at his shoulders again and Sam slumped over once more, "If the wall collapses, I'm a goner. That's my fate, Death told Dean."
It took all of Y/N not to give in to the urge of reopening the Cage to throw Death in there with Lucifer and have him taste some of his own medicine. But saving Sam was more important than plotting revenge.
"I'm the most powerful witch on this earth," Y/N reminded him, one hand still clutching Sam's, the other gathering a few leaves of the lavender she was keeping on her nightstand, "I can and have changed fate. And I will do it again if it means that I can keep that smile on your face."
Then, she grabbed the matches and burned the leaves to let the smoke set the groundwork for the spell. It was crucial for the magic to work as she intended it to that no dark energy beyond the one inside the constraints of the walls intercepted with the spell.
Sam was just watching her, momentarily rendered speechless by her words. Y/N was okay with that, she needed to focus and his questions would be a bit distracting.
Before he could get the idea of stopping her, Y/N had gotten up and to her magic study (and yep, she needed another name for her storage room) to gather the other ingredients.
Finally, Y/N had everything that she needed. The runes were drawn with chalk on the ground of her bedroom around the bed and wall in its back that Sam was still leaning against, - at one point he had tried to get up but Y/N had managed to convince him to stay put; for once he had listened - the sage was burning with the right combination of herbs and the bones of a lamb were covered in holy oil. Now, only two things were missing.
"I need a few drops of your blood," Y/N said calmly.
Sam nodded and extended his hand for the athame. "Nothing more?"
"Actually yes," she stated evenly and hoped that her next words wouldn't blow up in her face like Y/N was expecting them to, "I need a central memory as groundwork. Then, I'll use it as a tunnel to the rest of them and drain the emotions of the torture itself through your mind and my magic. This way, the memory itself stays intact but you won't have the psychological trauma of it. I figured you wanted to not have your mind wiped again."
"So what's the catch?" Sam asked as he let the blood drip into the bowl.
Y/N breathed in once. Let go of the air through her mouth slowly. "We'd both have to live through that specific memory. In all the details to ensure that all of the emotionally torturing parts are gone."
"No."
That was what she had expected. The counter arguments came easy to her as she had been anticipating Sam's protest. "Yes, Sam. It's the only way to prevent you from going mad. The world needs you sane and safe. I need you sane and safe. And I will not let you die out of a misplaced sense of fear or chivalry."
"I can't subject you to this," Sam insisted with newfound force. He reached out and grabbed her left hand, pulled her close to him so she wouldn't be able to reach her altar.
But Y/N didn't need the altar to finish the spell. "But I can."
The runes were activated with a touch of their mixed blood on her palm and Y/N plunged into the depths of Sam's mind.
It was worse than the glimpse she had gotten a few minutes ago. It was worse than anything Y/N had ever experienced before. Being skinned alive, burning at the stake, another witch trying to invade her mind - nothing could compare to what Lucifer was doing to Sam.
There simply wasn't a world anymore where anything but pain and shame and guilt existed. Nothing of her life was real, just a cruel illusion to make the agony all that sweeter, the triumph over her greater.
Later, Y/N couldn't have told how long it took the spell to work. All she remembered was her waking up again, covered in sweat and tears, shaking all over and her skin burning like someone was cooking her from within. Sam was lying next to her when she was coming to it again, still unconscious.
So she waited. Waited until her breathing evened out, until she could feel the soft material of her blanket rather than the shards of glass that seemed to have pierced her very soul.
And then, Y/N waited some more.
Eventually, Sam woke up too.
It wad a testament to the state of his latest standard of life that he didn't wake up shaking. Instead, Sam was like every other day; rubbed his eyes tiredly and the first thing he did was reaching for her.
Y/N leaned into the touch gratefully. The fact that Sam was initiating the comfort had to be a good sign. And if she was being honest with herself, she needed it just as bad as he did. She needed to feel that Sam was real. That his skin was whole, that his soul was whole, that no one was tearing down defenses to strip him off the little safety he had.
"Thank you," Sam whispered, his voice muffled by her hair. "It doesn't hurt anymore."
"I'm glad that it worked," she admitted. Her hand was still shaking when she put it on the back of his neck.
Sam nodded under her touch and rolled them around until Y/N was on her back with him almost completely on top of her. His head was tucked under her chin, his arms wrapped around her waist, legs tangled with hers. Evidently, Sam was using her body as anchor.
Y/N could understand the sentiment better than anyone else now. Even that one sequence had had her questioning reality on earth; with what Sam had been subjected to, it was a miracle that the spell had still been able to make a difference. So she held him closer and let him just drink in the feeling of knowing that this was real. At least that she was able to give him. With the pain drained from it, Sam could see the differences between reality and hallucination for himself.
"I trust you and your magic," Sam said with conviction, "I knew that it would work."
"I'm still glad that it did," Y/N said, willing the shakes out of her voice.
Now was not the time to fall down a hole of herself. Sam was okay again thanks to her - or had a real chance to be someday again.
"I love you," she whispered into the thoughtful silence that had followed her words.
Sam tilted his head just enough to lay his lips against her jaw. Not really a kiss, more a soft touch of assurance. "I love you too."
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#sam winchester x reader#sam x reader#sam x you#supernatural fanfiction#spn fanfiction#sam winchester fanfiction#angst#tw torture#witch!reader
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You are now legally required to infodump about the gameplay mechanics that you think up for video games fanfics.
HELLO BELOVED MUTUAL I AM VERY HAPPY YOU ASKED
it involves a variety of things like sometimes when i am writing FE fic i'll think about hypothetical level designs, recruitment requirements for certain characters in the au, things like that
what's got me thinking about this NOW is i've been brainstorming a fe awakening/XC3 fic for the past couple weeks and considering what their classes would be
the ones i've got most for are lucina and severa, who with cynthia would be the kevesi trio here. i'm only including six characters bc i'd overload myself otherwise,,
lucina is an attacker with good all-round stats but particularly strong atk, dex, and agility. her class skills:
aether: chance to pierce/heal dealt damage
charm: party accuracy up
dual strike: grants art follow-up to party members within a fixed radius [lvl 5 inheritance]
awakening: increased crit/accuracy/avo at low health [lvl 15 inheritance]
for plot reasons, her blade (i.e. the one summoned through the iris) ISN'T falchion. her blade is a lance-staff combination that deals good damage while empowering allies, bc i feel that mix of offence and support is How Lucina Should Be. falchion, unlocked later, would come with its own set of arts (which are more strongly offensive) and probably be switched to via the talent art.
severa is a defender. she acts as a hybrid dodge/hp tank, having strong hp, agility, and def but lower dex and atk [stats based off her fates incarnation]. she also has high base crit. her class skills:
competitive: increases damage dealt to enemies targeting her
triumphant: boosts aggro when dealing a critical hit
strong riposte: increases damage dealt when hp is 50% or lower [lvl 5 inheritance]
fierce rival: increases crit rate for every critical hit performed by an ally [lvl 15 inheritance]
she uses a sword, generating aggro via swift attacks and high aggro arts. some of her arts also have crit recharge, and her talent art has crit damage up. she has less focus on party defence than other defenders tend to, which is complemented by lucina and cynthia’s ability to more or less handle themselves. this is a fun class to put in the context of xc2 bc it'd one where you'd equip an avant-garde medal (crit healing) and win
the last of this trio is cynthia, a healer, and i've got less ideas for her right now? she's similar to lucina but has more focus on support than offence. i'm considering making her fairly buff-focused though not as broken as signifier is. her provisional skills:
rally speed: increases ally evasion within a fixed radius
heroic spirit: boots party damage dealt by 5-10% for each active buff (max: 200%)
luna: when landing a hit, deals damage as though enemy ether defence was 30-50% lower [lvl 5 inheritance]
[unnamed]: increases healing power with number of party buffs
luna would be the inheritable ether counterpart to ultimate qigong (same skill but physical def), which is REALLY needed in the xc3 meta. i don't know much about her arts yet either but they'll probs be ether-based.
i've planned much less for this au's agnian trio (owain, inigo, brady) BUT vague outlines:
owain is the defender purely because the way he acts and stuff he says can't NOT draw attention. he also has good crit, like severa, and basically all his arts are ether + AOE to some extent. he's more the hp sponge type of tank, being very good at handling crowds of enemies (and probs has a skill that reduces damage taken per no. enemies in battle)
inigo is the attacker with good combo access (topple + smash) and strong offence. he can find himself taking aggro from owain at times. to counter this he has a skill called "stop staring at me!" that increases damage dealt to enemies targeting him (he makes them stop targeting him by killing them, which is exactly how i play the attacker role in-game) and his talent art both has increased damage when aggroed AND eliminates aggro.
brady is the healer, and a very traditional one at that, dealing in strong healing, reducing party damage, and increasing party debuff resistance. his blade is a staff. one of his skills, which is inheritable, is:
miracle: 50-70% chance to survive a KO with 1hp and five seconds of invincibility (once per battle, does not stack) [lvl 5 inheritance]
bc i don't actually think any other class gives you that aside from soulhacker.
anyway, if you got this far you have my congratulations and eternal respect. this was fun to ramble about :DDD ty for the ask!
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A theory about why Kaname Tōsen really thought Kenpachi was unforgivable. Besides the obvious reasons.
Spoilers for the whole series including Can't Fear Your Own World novels.
TW: character death, abuse, violence
Very long post again. Sorry not sorry.
Being part of Aizen's team and their subsequent betrayal makes it easy to dismiss everything Tōsen said before that as lies, but there are bits and pieces that remain true. Lets list his stated reasons for why Kenpachi should be taken down and then take a more in depth look at which ones were meant serious.
aiding the intruders
disrupting the peace of the Gotai 13
killing the former captain of the 11th Division
being a danger to Soul Society
acting out of pure blood-lust
The first two are pretty clearly bullshit. Ichigo and friends were a great distraction that helped their plan. Aiding the intruders was therefore helpful as well. The entire Seireitei and the Gotai 13 are the very thing Tosen want's destroyed. Disrupting the piece of the institution one hates can't be bad either. But what about the rest?
Kaname Tōsen contradicts his own morals on a regular basis. Or so it seems. He believes killing out of fun is wrong and evil. But to him, the murders his co-conspirators and he himself committed, and planned to commit, were a step towards their goal that he deemed just and therefore a necessity. By the time of their fight Tōsen also seemed to be very much in love with his own voice and so, instead of getting the info-dump about the rules on how to become captain in the form of a thought-bubble, we get him stating the obvious at length to someone who already knows. (And, yes, I'm aware I can't really throw stones here.) This establishes another trait of Tōsen's character, but the info itself is rather odd.
First we get to hear about the two peaceful options to attaining captaincy, which are of course preferable. Then comes the option that made Kenpachi eligible: killing the previous captain in a duel in front of at least 200 witnesses. Which immediately begs the question why this is an established method in the first place? (This is one of the many awful rules and behaviors that we get to sit on for a while until more explanation comes forth, and a lot of them don't make things look any better. Which in turn gives the villains a more understandable cause while remaining wrong in their methods.) Rightfully, this paints Kenpachi in a very bad light. Later we hear killing the previous captain is the only way to succeed them in the 11th. (Which isn't really true either, seeing how the first Kenpachi was Unohana and Azashiro was imprisoned.) But since this is given as established rule - what's the gripe about here exactly?
The little info we get on Kiganjo is that he didn't follow orders and had a strong sense of justice. These two are not necessarily mutually exclusive if you think about the Seireitei as a deeply unjust institution. With that he may well have been a candidate for joining the traitor team around Aizen. Although, even if that was a possibility, it's not what I think played a part here. More allies would've been nice, but would also mean more risk of exposure, depending on how strong their convictions were.
Kiganjo became captain the exact same way before, by killing his predecessor. Succeeding this man via the same method shouldn't cause the unease and dislike Tosen admits to having. A dislike for the 11th and their doctrine in general? Sure! But why this specific focus on comparing Zaraki to a demon or monster who thrives on violence and bloodshed? The answer to this and the remaining two points is, in my opinion, in the backstory of how Tōsen's friend died.
Her death made him join the Shinigami to bring them down and we finally got the full story in the Can't Fear Your Own World novel. It's a small part of the whole story, but every bit of backstory is appreciated. For everyone who didn't read this one - a quick summary:
Tōsen's friend, Kakyō, was married to a Shinigami from one of the four great noble houses, Tokinada Tsunayashiro. Tokinada married her with the express intent on making her as miserable as possible and was at some point confronted over this behavior by another friend of Kakyō. After Tokinada admitted to his reasons this person attacked the noble. Kakyō tried to intervene, but Tokinada first slaughtered the distracted friend, then Kakyō as well. He then claimed the two had an affair and he killed them in self-defense after finding them out. Kyōraku didn't buy into his explanation and exposed what actually happened, so there was a murder trial after all. Sadly we also learn that Soul Society is firmly in the grasp of the noble families and even more corrupt than ever shown previously. Tokinada's family succeeded in getting him an easy sentence, house arrest for a few decades.
When Tōsen was demanding an audience with Central 46 to have this injustice corrected Tokinada approached him pretending to be another friend of Kakyō and proceeded to trick Tōsen into agreeing that he won't avenge his late friend for she wouldn't want anyone to shed blood over her. After this he reveals the full truth to Tōsen, hurts and violently subdues him, then orders the guards to beat him up further and throw him out.
Aizen picked him up almost immediately after he's thrown out. With all of this it's easy to understand why Tōsen chose to do what he did.
But back to why he might have had this gripe against the guy he stood next to in captain's meetings for however many years it was.
A quick reminder, the Gotai 13 is woefully uncommunicative. We get fun snippets of interactions later and some more in the Illustrated Guide etc. after the episode's end-credits, but all of it is after Ichigo and his friends waltzed in and things got scrambled up. It wouldn't surprise me if some of the captains never spoke with each other for decades outside of a meeting. And the things discussed in meetings itself are hardly an insight into someone's inner motivations, especially before shit hit the fan. What did Tosen know about Kenpachi?
That the guy loves fighting and murdering people. That he has fun doing so and doesn't care about how much pain he causes.
And from what little there is up to this point it's understandable to get this impression.
This view doesn't even change all that much for maybe most people throughout the story. To Kenpachi a fight to the death means everyone goes all out, no holding back. Those are the most challenging, fun fights, the only truly worthwhile battles. The killing part is an unfortunate side-effect that all of them have to face eventually, himself included. No need to be hung up about it too much. However, if an opponent manages to survive, he's frequently letting them live. Tōsen himself is an example of this. He also complains whenever he has to deal with small fry that are easily killed off. Although it happens - killing is not the main goal. Nor is torturing people for fun, ever, especially not if they're just randos. But again, from his actions and the few interactions with other captains that's more than easy to misinterpret.
Tōsen says he shouldn't be allowed to dwell in their world too long and that he needs to die for their peaceful existence to be protected. That part of his motivation is true. From the Soul Society arc alone it would fit well to assume the 'we' and 'their' he spoke of is a stand-in for the traitor's and their plans.
But I suspect Tōsen thought Kenpachi was the same kind of unforgivable, sadistic asshole Tokinada is. And then these words extend much further, to the kind of world he wishes for. In which people of the same ilk as the murderer of his best friend shouldn't have any right to exist or run around unpunished.
It raises a different question. While Tōsen was rather partial to villain-speeches, that may not be the only reason for giving Kenpachi the weird, lengthy explanation about his abilities while he couldn't hear or see any of it. Was it a bit of gloating in front of someone who could be a stand-in for the person he hated even more? A trial run for the witty comeuppance towards said actual target? It's rather ironic given that it made him resemble Tokinada in that regard.
I fully believe Tōsen tried to kill Kenpachi by stabbing him in the back after his Bankai was shattered, but was too weakened to even cut him anymore. The conviction behind it wasn't faked, though.
He was ready to die trying in this moment, even if it meant jeopardizing the big plan. Maybe especially while he was in this pained state. With someone he perceived to have similar desires to Tokinada responsible for his near death. After getting repeatedly laughed at too. Must have felt awfully like back then...
#bleach#bleach meta#kaname tosen#kenpachi zaraki#tokinada tsunayashiro#tw: abuse#tw: violence#tw: death#long post
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