#did he die in the Night of A Thousand Tears

[oceantornadoo]

bad day (simon riley x reader, best friends to lovers)

honestly, you should have seen it coming. staying in a safe house with four men who have never ending stomachs? but today, it was the last straw.

“you ate my last cookie?”

soap’s face dropped, jaw open. your voice was on the verge of breaking, tears forming in your eyes. you never showed this much vulnerability in front of the team, and he was flabbergasted. he shot a look at gaz, who was equally as confused. “‘m sorry, bonnie, i didnae ken-“ you pushed your hands on the table, shoving your chair back and out. “it’s ok. gonna take a nap.” you were wiping your eyes furiously, feeling unstable. first you got your period four days early (asking price to add pads to the shopping list was something you never wanted to experience again), then you couldn’t find your heating pad, and now your cookies were out? maybe it was the hormones, but you were done.

“oof.” you had ran into a thick wall. scratch that, the wall was moving. your vision was blurred by tears you refused to shed that you didn’t even realize it was your closest friend ghost. “dove?” you hiccuped. why did he always have to be so nice to you? gruff and mean-sounding to everyone else, but an avid listener and sweet talker when it came to you. “jus’ trying to get to my room, didn’t see you. sorry l.t..” you tried to maneuver around him, but unfortunately a 6’4 machine of a man did not move easily.

“why you cryin’, baby?” shit, simon did not mean to call you that. he did not want to have this conversation right now, especially when you looked like you were about to break down. you were always so strong, having to work ten times harder as a woman in the military, and he was always careful to not undermine you or your struggles. unfortunately, that landed him firmly in the friendzone for the past year, unable to confess his feelings without breaking your trust. he maneuvered you to the closest room, which happened to be his. he sat down on the bed, intending to sit you down next to him, but instead you still stood, walking in between his parted legs.

“‘m sorry, just on my period and everything hurts and it’s all hitting at once.” your eyes were red, avoiding his. he could see you were in pain, and as someone who had endured enemy torture and the hardest forms of training, his heart never hurt as much as it did now. he reached a gloved hand towards your face, brushing away your tears. his other hand came to your lower belly, rubbing circles over your clothes. “shhh, ‘s okay. you wanna sit down?” you shook your head in disagreement. you felt like a child, but you were never allowed to be weak outside of your own room. for some reason today, you let simon riley see you weak.

you walked around his body and laid on top of his covers, curling into a fetal position. he let you get comfy, finding a way to lay down that lessened your cramps. finally, you were done moving. “si?” you never called him that unless you absolutely needed him. he got up and locked the door, not wanting to disturb your peace. “yeah, baby?” might as well use it now, you hadn’t complained. if anything your face softened when he said it, and simon riley would die a thousand deaths just to see a moment of relief on your face. “will you lay with me?”

he eagerly stripped out of his gear, climbing on top of his bed to lay down with you. he placed a hand on your arm, letting you choose where you wanted him. you dragged his hand under your sweatshirt, using it like a heating pad for your cramps. you let out a soft moan of pleasure and he answered it with a low growl, pulling you into him by the stomach. his thumb caressed your bare skin with small circles, memorizing every dip and valley. he strived to commit the moment to memory, not knowing if you’d ever be this vulnerable again. “feel better, dove?” you nodded, finally succumbing to sleep that had evaded you the past night. he smiled under his mask, placing a small kiss to the back of your head.

finally you were at peace, and all because of him.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod 141 #fluff #ghost call of duty #tornadothoughts #best friends to lovers #period cramps #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price

[spirits-having-flown]

“matthew, it is with heavy heart i say goodbye. the times we had together are honestly among the favorite times of my life. it was an honor to share the stage with you and to call you my friend. i will always smile when i think of you and i’ll never forget you. never. spread your wings and fly brother, you’re finally free. much love. and i guess you’re keeping the 20 bucks you owe me.” - matt leblanc

“i am so grateful for every moment i had with you matty and i miss you every day. when you work with someone as closely as i did with matthew, there are thousands of moments i wish i could share. for now here's one of my favorites. to give a little backstory, chandler and monica were supposed to have a one night fling in london. but because of the audience's reaction, it became the beginning of their love story. in this scene, before we started rolling, he whispered a funny line for me to say. he often did things like that. he was funny and he was kind. 🤍🕊️" - courteney cox

“oh boy this one has cut deep... having to say goodbye to our matty has been an insane wave of emotions that i've never experienced before. we all experience loss at some point in our lives. loss of life or loss of love. being able to really sit in this grief allows you to feel the moments of joy and gratitude for having loved someone that deep. and we loved him deeply. he was such a part of our dna. we were always the 6 of us. this was a chosen family that forever changed the course of who we were and what our path was going to be. for matty, he knew he loved to make people laugh. as he said himself, if he didn't hear the 'laugh' he thought he was going to die. his life literally depended on it. and boy did he succeed in doing just that. he made all of us laugh. and laugh hard. in the last couple weeks, i've been pouring over our texts to one another. laughing and crying then laughing again. i'll keep them forever and ever. i found one text that he sent me out of nowhere one day. it says it all. matty, i love you so much and i know you are now completely at peace and out of any pain. i talk to you every day... sometimes i can almost hear you saying "could you BE any crazier?" rest little brother. you always made my day... ❤️🕊️” - jennifer aniston

“matty, thank you for ten incredible years of laughter and creativity. i will never forget your impeccable comic timing and delivery. you could take a straight line of dialogue and bend it to your will, resulting in something so entirely original and unexpectedly funny it still astonishes. and you had heart. which you were generous with, and shared with us, so we could create a family out of six strangers. this photo is from one of my favorite moments with you. now it makes me smile and grieve at the same time. i imagine you up there, somewhere, in the same white suit, hands in your pockets, looking around— "Could there BE any more clouds?” “ - david schwimmer

“shot the pilot, friends like us, got picked up then immediately, we were at the nbc upfronts. then... you suggested we play poker and made it so much fun while we initially bonded. thank you for that. thank you for making me laugh so hard at something you said, that my muscles ached, and tears poured down my face every day. thank you for your open heart in a six way relationship that required compromise. and a lot of "talking." thank you for showing up at work when you weren't well and then, being completely brilliant. thank you for the best 10 years a person gets to have. thank you for trusting me. thank you for all I learned about grace and love through knowing you. thank you for the time i got to have with you, matthew.” - lisa kudrow

friends cast remembers matthew perry 🤍🕊️

#these tributes are so sweet #still cant believe that hes gone #rip matthew perry #friends #matthew perry #chandler bing #matt leblanc #joey tribbiani #courteney cox #monica geller #jennifer aniston #rachel green #david schwimmer #ross geller #lisa kudrow #phoebe buffay

[theonotti]

MIO | OS | t.n.

Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!Hufflepuff!reader

Word Count: 9.5k

Summary: Voldemort won. Harry Potter is dead. But the Order of the Phoenix is still fighting, with two surprising allies who have very different reasons for aiding their cause.

Warnings: Pretty angsty. AU where Voldemort did not die at the end of DH.

Notes: This is heavily inspired by Secrets & Masks and Manacled. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

That Final Night One Shot

Late.

They’re fucking late.

Taking a long drag of his cigarette, Theo looks down at his watch. 

Twenty minutes late, to be exact.

“How long are we expected to wait here?” Mattheo growls, pacing across the wood of the decrepit bar. The floorboards creak with every step. Theo is sitting at one of the tables, a sigh forcing its way out of his lungs as he watches his friend. In one hand is a cigarette, the other hand mindlessly tracing the vandalism that had been scratched into the top of the table. 

“Another ten minutes and then we’re fucking off.”

The bar has been long abandoned, making it their top choice for discreet meetings. They had cycled through a few different locations before they finally found the bar. The walls are a sloppy black color, which is mostly covered in 80’s posters, both movies and musical talents alike. Theo’s eyes drift from poster to poster. He’s seen them what feels like a thousand times, and yet he still finds it hard to tear his eyes away when he stares at them. 

An hour has already passed since their arrival, but that was due to the ungodly amount of wards and disillusionment charms that they needed to cast before the meeting, a ritual that has become quite routine. Once everything is set, they’ll briefly discuss what they’ll say, and then they wait. Theo finds the extra waiting time peaceful, usually. It gives him a chance to mentally prepare for the carnage that comes to his psyche afterwards. The guilt. The fear. But this time, the stakes are higher, increasing the tension in his muscles much too soon. He can feel the pain already in his lower back, and he doesn’t want to imagine the aches he’ll be feeling once he returns home. 

“Can’t we just kill them?” 

Theo considers this question as he lets his eyes jump back to Mattheo.

“That would probably defeat the purpose of why we’re here.”

“Sure, but I still hate Weasley and his stupid face. Just one Cruciatus curse at his ugly face would be okay, surely. I won’t even make it a long one. Four minutes tops.”

Theo boredly watches the smoke from his cigarette float up towards the ceiling as he ignores Mattheo. Every moment that passes increases his irritation. He finds himself wondering if it’s a power move on their part. They hold all the cards, so they can keep him waiting. 

Something in the air triggers, both men looking towards the door. Theo’s fingers tense around the cigarette as he brings it to his mouth to take another drag, his other hand dropping down from the table to clench around his wand as it rests on his lap. The dimly lit room has a smoky haze, all thanks to Mattheo and Theo disregarding the “No Smoking Allowed” sign that is appropriately starting to fall off the wall.

The door opens, Ron Weasley followed by Hermione Granger walking in. Theo has long lost count of how many times they’ve met with Granger and Weasley, yet it still feels jarring every time he sees them. Maybe it’s because their appearance catches him off guard each time.

Despite them all being in their mid twenties, they all look tired and worn. The rosey cheeks that Granger sported while they were in school are now gaunt and hollow. Dark circles are painted under her eyes, along with Weasley’s, and she keeps her bushy hair contained in two french braids going down her back. Weasley keeps his hair short now, and his body is more built than it had ever been when they were at Hogwarts. His boy-like features are long gone, with gray already peppering his ginger hair, and if Theo didn’t know any better, he would’ve guessed that Weasley was in his late thirties at the least. The life in their eyes had long drained out, replaced with a coldness that chilled anyone who happened to be stuck in their gaze.

War hadn’t been kind to Theo or Mattheo either.

Mattheo has more scars on his face than he did back in school, and he grew his hair long in a feeble attempt to hide them. There was a time that he wore them like a badge of honor, but since the start of the war and his PTSD becoming worse than ever, they no longer were something he pretended to be proud of. He’s since developed an anxiety twitch, his whole face seeming to spasm whenever there’s a loud noise not caused by him, or tense moment. Though they don’t live together anymore, now that Theo has full ownership of Nott Manor, when they had, Theo could remember all the nights of hearing his best friend scream and cry in his sleep from across the mansion. It was more often than not, and it was unbearably hard to get Mattheo to calm down from the vivacious nightmares.

The opposite could be said for Theo. Instead of nights filled with intense dreams of death and melancholy, Theo simply doesn’t sleep. He couldn’t, for the life of him, shut his brain off. And while that had always been an issue for him to some degree, it had become exacerbated since his transition from student to soldier. Theo doesn’t know what being tired feels like anymore. It’s so ingrained in his psyche that it would be more abnormal for him to not be tired. All he can do is adjust, living off coffee and the occasional upper to keep him moving.

Weasley leans on the wall beside the door. His demeanor is much more unpleasant than normal as his eyes flit between Theo and Mattheo. Theo pretends not to notice as he looks at Granger, who’s standing in the middle of the room. She always did all the talking. Theo assumes it’s because of the way she carries herself, and they certainly take her more seriously than they could any Weasley. Besides being a fighter for the Order of the Phoenix, Granger is a war negotiator. She deals with prisoner exchanges and, eventually, peace talks. Although, considering it’s been seven years since the Battle of Hogwarts, Theo is less confident of the possibility of any sort of peace treaty happening any time soon. For the entire duration of the war, it was her that Theo dealt with when it came to these sorts of things, before and after their betrayal. 

She clears her throat.

“What information do you have for us?”

The strain in her voice is lost on no one. The tension in the air is so thick, Theo is convinced he could grab it if he tried.

Mattheo stops his pacing, turning to face her full on. His anger is palpable.

“Stop with the bullshit,” He snaps. “Let’s talk about why we’re really here today.”

Weasley’s hand tightens around his wand, but he doesn’t move. Theo keeps his eyes on him to ensure it stays that way before turning back to Granger. 

“You have Malfoy.” Theo’s voice is quiet, tone neutral.

The corners of her mouth twitch upward.

“We have Malfoy.”

Mattheo lets out a frustrated sigh.

“We can’t continue to cooperate with you until you hand him back.”

Granger’s expression doesn’t change, making it clear that this reaction was expected. 

“He’s quite the bargaining tool. What are you willing to give for him?” A beat passes. “Or I guess I should say, who?”

Mattheo turns to look at Theo, who can tell just by that exchange of a glance that his friend’s patience is wearing horrifically thin.

“We can ensure the release of Luna Lovegood and Seamus Finnegan. And we’re prepared to give you the maps of the hidden prisons in Sussex.” Theo conveniently forgets to mention that they were already planning to give them the maps, regardless of the way things went at this meeting.

Granger turns to look at Weasley, who merely raises his eyebrows, before turning back to Theo.

“He’s Draco Malfoy.” 

Theo’s hand curls tighter around his wand.

Mattheo huffs loudly, throwing his hand down and smacking it on the bar top. The sound is so loud that Granger flinches, and Weasley pushes off the wall suddenly, but doesn’t move forward.

“You know bloody well that our heads will be on a fucking spike if we don’t get him back,” He hisses at them. “Then who will aid your bloody Order? You think there’s anyone else who will risk their necks like we have? Honestly?”

“Regardless of your help to the Order, do you really think we can just hand Voldemort back one of his best fighters?” Granger's voice raises just a touch. Mattheo takes a step towards her.

“You’ll be singing a different fucking tune when we’re dead and you realize the next on the list is you. You’re losing the goddamn war. Biblically. You need us. Alive.”

Theo waits for Mattheo to finish his outburst before he turns his attention back to Granger. He knows where this is going.

Fuck, he knows where this is going. 

“What else do you want, then?”

Theo’s hands tremble slightly. He clenches his right fist around his wand even more, the left bringing the cigarette back to his mouth quickly. 

Mattheo shakes his head, turning away as he pulls a cigarette from his pocket and lights it with his want.

Granger tilts her head as she looks at Theo, her expression shifting to a tired one, as if the answer is obvious. When she speaks again, her voice is just above a whisper.

“You know who we want, Nott. It’s been almost a year.”

Theo’s nostrils flare.

“Not on the table.”

~

Suffice to say, the raid couldn’t have possibly gone worse.

How the Order could’ve been so prepared for them was beyond Theo.

One minute, everything seemed to be going to plan as Theo, Mattheo, Malfoy, Blaise and a few others sauntered into the safe house. Quick in and out. Nothing too complicated. The next, it was like the floor fell out from under their feet.

How did things get so royally fucked up?

Theo woke with a start, sitting up abruptly, covered in a layer of sweat as his eyes darted around the room. It took him a minute to get reoriented, and only then did he realize that he was in his own living room, laid on the couch with a blanket draped over him. Ripping the blanket off, his hands flew towards his abdomen. When he looked down, he found he was shirtless, but his skin was unharmed, save for some minor scarring. New editions to the collection. He then reached up and touched the top of his head. Nothing. Not even a scrape.

What?

Slowly, he kicked his feet over the side of the couch and stood up. The room spun for a moment, and his joints ached, but otherwise, he was completely normal. 

The manor was silent. So silent that it made the hairs on the back of Theo’s neck stand up. Almost automatically, he walked across the floor, his bare feet cold against the hardwood. He tried to keep his footfall soft as he continued listening for any sort of sound. There, in the faint distance, he could hear… something. Grabbing a hoodie off the back of a chair, he slipped it over his bare torso and zipped it up halfway before making his way towards the sound. 

Theo stepped into the kitchen. A flash of movement came from the other slide of the sliding door that leads to the courtyard. His hand instinctively went to grab his wand from his pocket, only for him to realize it wasn’t there. At the same moment, he also realized the person outside was Mattheo, having a smoke. His tense fingers relaxed, his arm falling back to his side.

Mattheo looked over as Theo slid the door open and walked out. 

“Look who’s awake. How’re you feeling, Sleeping Beauty?”

“Who healed me?”

Mattheo placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense.

“You wound me, Nott. You don’t think I’m capable?”

Theo shook his head almost immediately.

“It’s not as… clean when you do it. And I have the scars to prove it.” He pointed to his back, which was covered in scars thanks to a nasty run in with a car, a Bombarda cast, and Mattheo’s lack of concern to learn basic field emergency spell casting.

Mattheo sighed in resignation before saying, “You’re right. It wasn’t me.”

Theo waited for Mattheo to give elaboration, and when one wasn't given, he could feel his fingers curl into fists. Though Mattheo’s face was neutral, the tension radiating off his body could be felt a kilometer away.

“What did you do?”

Mattheo took a long drag from his cigarette, blowing the smoke out through his nostrils before turning back to Theo.

“Theo…”

“What did you do, Riddle?”

Swallowing hard, Mattheo looked away from Theo.

“We got their best healer.” 

Theo blinked. A hostage?

“You took someone?” He asked, voice low. “That… that wasn’t part of the plan.”

Not that things ever went to plan. And not that they hadn’t ever deviated so far left and forced them to take hostages before. But there was something about the way Mattheo couldn’t look at him that made Theo’s fingers run cold. 

Mattheo shook his head as he took a seat on one of the lounge chairs. He let his head fall to his chest, as if it were too heavy to hold up anymore. “That wall fell on you. You were going to die, Theo. We needed…” He inhaled sharply before looking up again. “It was beyond us. We needed the help. We needed her.” 

Theo wracked his brain. The Order’s best healer? The Order’s best healer. Why does this mean something to him?

“Who is it?”

Mattheo leaned backwards in the seat so his back laid against the chair before he pointed at Theo, as if he was preemptively defending himself.

“You’re going to thank me. You’ll be pissed. But you’re going to thank me, ultimately.”

Theo’s nose twitched.

“Mattheo… who is it?”

Mattheo nodded back towards the house before vaguely replying, “She’s upstairs, in the North wing.”

Theo’s feet didn’t move, stuck to the floor like ice. His mind was running, a plethora of questions all begging to be answered. But his mouth forgot how to work as well. For a moment, all he was able to do was stare at Mattheo, who stared back briefly before nodding towards the house again.

“Go on.” His voice was soft.

Theo’s feet kicked on again, taking him back into the house as if they were on autopilot. 

Why the hell are you so nervous? You don’t even know who it is.

His wand was laying on the end table next to the staircase, which he grabbed and shoved in his pocket. His knees buckled as he walked up the stairs. Distantly, he could hear the sound of yelling and objects being thrown around. It didn’t take him long to figure out which closed door the sounds were coming from the other side of. He stood outside the black wooden door, listening. Trying to maybe discern who it was before he went in. 

He could just make out the wards that had been placed on the door. Laying a hand on the knob, he was relieved to find that he was able to touch the brass of the handle. Mattheo had been known to incorrectly cast the spell so no one could get through, which had more than once sent Theo or Malfoy through a wall. 

A shaky sigh pushing its way from Theo’s lungs and out of his mouth, he turned the knob and let himself inside the room. 

The color drained from Theo’s face.

Standing in the middle of the room, chest heaving and anger radiating off of like a stove top, was you. 

Suddenly, Theo was back at Hogwarts, standing in the Astronomy Tower. You were no longer in your casual shirt and jeans, but instead, in your Hufflepuff robes as you looked at him and told him you were leaving to join the Order.

“This war is above us, Theo. Dumbledore is dead. Harry Potter is dead. I can’t stand idly by and watch people die. I need to do something.” 

“Yeah? And what about me?”

“You could come with me.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“And you know I can’t stay.”

The memory hit Theo like a train. His breath hitched in his throat.

You turned to face him, freezing in the headlights of his gaze. The way your fury faltered at the sight of him made it clear that you were having the same out of body experience that he was. 

You certainly had been busy. All of the furniture in the room was broken. The night stand had been thrown against the pewter colored wall, leaving a dent in the dry wall and the wooden pieces scattered across the floor. A picture frame that Theo hung and forgot about was in ruins, the brunette girl in the picture cowering in the corner of the shredded pieces of photo paper. Feathers from the pillows littered the carpet. The mattress had been thrown off the bed frame, which was also now broken. 

Though he couldn’t focus on the damage that had been done to his guest room. He was too busy staring at you with the same confounded look he’d had when he first entered the room. 

Your hair was longer than he remembered it, pulled back so it was out of your face. Your features had grown with you, your cheekbones more prominent, your eyes with more bags, your cheeks with less color. There wasn’t a corner of Theo’s world that wasn’t burdened by war, and, unfortunately, that included you. His heart raced in his chest as he looked at you. He had locked the memory of you deep into the catacombs of his brain, not allowing himself to bring them out for any occasion. There wasn’t the time or need for it. This is war. When is there a moment for reminiscing on the worst day of his life?

But now there you were, standing in front of him, with a dumbfoundedly angry look on your face, casual clothes and longer hair. The flood gates were now opened, and he was overwhelmed with memories of you, running through his mind so quickly that he felt like he was spinning. 

Your eyes still twinkled in the light that streamed in through the curtains.

“You tell Mattheo Riddle that he can give me back my wand and we’ll see then if he’s able to force me into this room again.”

Theo flinched.

The sound of your voice alone made him feel the need to have a complete mental breakdown. You could’ve been cursing him out or singing in German and he would still feel the overwhelming urge to curl into a ball on the floor. Even with your anger, it still felt like a sweet symphony to Theo’s ears. 

He never thought he’d hear the sound again. 

Hell, he never thought he’d see you again.

Realizing you had spoken and he was just staring at you like an imbecile, he cleared his throat.

“You healed me.”

Your expression shifted, an emotion crossing your face that Theo couldn’t read. Standing a little straighter, you nodded.

“I’m a healer,” You said slowly, distantly. “It’s what I do.”

He snorted. That bleeding Hufflepuff heart.

“You could’ve let me die,” He pointed out, cocking his head to the side. 

You seemed to consider this briefly before saying, “In theory, yes.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Silence hung in the air between the two of you, coupled with the unmitigated tension. Theo’s hands were curled at his sides, not from anger, but to stop himself from giving into the inordinate compulsion to reach out and touch you. To prove to himself that he wasn’t dreaming or hallucinating. That you were actually in front of him. You shifted your weight to your other foot.

“I don’t think I really could’ve, even if I wanted to.”

The words unsaid in this moment would keep Theo up at night for weeks.

Your eyes trailed down his body, studying him, taking in his bare chest underneath the hoodie. He swallowed hard, his body seeming to freeze under your gaze. Maybe he should’ve changed before coming into the room. At least maybe thrown on a proper shirt. He’d never had a hostage in his home before. There was no protocol book on the proper etiquette. 

Especially not when the hostage was his ex-girlfriend who’s now working on the opposite side of the war. 

You let out a strangled sigh.

“You have to let me go back, Theo. They need me. No one is trained on some of the things I am.” 

The shake of his head was immediate.

“You can’t even begin to comprehend what he would do if he found out Mattheo and I had you and then just let you go back,” He said in a strained yet soft voice. “I can’t. We can’t.”

Your nose twitched as you closed your eyes.

“I won’t fucking heal for him,” You declared in a low tone. “I’d rather be strung up in Godric’s Hollow to rot like all the other people he’s executed than heal for him.”

Theo tried to be rational as he considered what to do. There was a tug of war in his mind, his loyalties competing to decide the best course of action. The obvious answer was to turn you over to The Dark Lord, where you would be put on trial for the crimes he deemed you guilty of, and then punished accordingly. With the skills you hold, Theo knew that you would more than likely be put under the Imperius curse and forced to act as a healer for the Death Eaters. 

Though the answer was obvious, that didn’t make it correct. Not to him or to anyone else.

Theo knew. He knew you’d rather die than breathe the same air as the Death Eaters, let alone fix their wounds and send them back out to kill your people. His head throbbed as he tried to think of the best direction to go in. 

Because, in his head, letting you go was simply out of the question. 

~

“This is a negotiation, is it not?” Granger asks. “We have something you want, you have something we want. We exchange.”

Theo shakes his head as he smashes the end of his half smoked cigarette on the top of the table.

“She’s not for trade.”

“Well, she’s what we want.”

A bead of sweat trails down the side of his face. He ignores it.

“She’s nowhere close to being worth the same as Draco Malfoy. This isn’t a fair trade.” He means it, but not in the way that he presented it to them. Nothing they could offer would make it a fair trade in Theo’s eyes. They could offer the end of the war. They could offer his freedom from the Death Eaters. They could offer endless riches, or immortality, or anything else he could possibly dream up. None of it would equate.

“Then we’ll gladly take Luna and Seamus back as well,” Granger says through clenched teeth, expression reading that her patience is wearing thin. “To make up the difference.”

Theo opens his mouth to respond, but Mattheo cuts in before he gets the chance.

“You’ll take what we fucking give you.”

Granger shoots him a dagger filled glare. 

“We can no longer afford to play these games with you. You have our best healer. And we need her back.” She rolls her head before her eyes fall back on Theo. “We have been patient. We have accepted that we had nothing worth trading for her. Now we do. Malfoy’s importance to the Death Eaters is well known. Don’t patronize us by pretending we don’t have the upper hand here.”

A chill runs through Theo’s spine.

She’s right.

God dammit, she’s right.

Theo runs a hand through his messy hair, the most he’s moved since he sat down. His brain scrambles to come up with something, anything, that he can offer to remedy this. There has to be something of equal value. There has to be something he can give that would make them decide to let you stay. 

“Before you try to come up with some feeble offer, know that we won’t be backing down from this,” Granger says as if she’s reading Theo’s mind. “You won’t be getting Draco Malfoy back unless we get her, regardless of what else you give. She’s the only card you have that could get him back.”

Theo’s eyes snap back to Granger, the anger boiling in his chest.

“This is a negotiation, is it not?” He repeats her words back to her. She smiles at him, but the gesture does not reach her eyes.

“Maybe negotiation is the wrong word for it.” She hums thoughtfully. “It’s more like a plea deal. Take it or leave it.”

~

“You’re up late.”

Theo jumped at the sound of your voice as he quickly flicked the light on.

He didn’t expect to find you in his kitchen, sitting cross legged on the island counter with the lights off. A bowl of what he could only assume was cereal was in your hands.

He glanced at the clock on the wall.

“It’s four in the morning.”

You glanced up at the clock as well, before shrugging. 

“Fine, you’re up early.”

A smile tugged at the corners of Theo’s mouth. 

He could feel you studying him as you brought the spoon to your mouth. A flush of warmth filled his cheeks as he made his way to the fridge, making it a point to turn away from you. Still, he knew your eyes never left him. 

“You still don’t sleep much, huh?” You asked, mouth full of cereal.

He sighed as he pulled the carton of orange juice off the shelf.

“I’d say I don’t sleep at all these days.”

He popped the top of the carton before bringing it to his mouth and throwing his head back. You watched him carefully, seeming to pause your eating.

“You’re a feral one now, aren’t you?” You asked in a playful tone. “Drinking right from the carton? Who have you become, Theodore Nott?”

He laughed, the sound being so foreign to him these days, before saying, “I generally live alone, and I never host other people. No need to waste a glass, as far as I’m concerned.”

Him ignoring the last comment of yours was intentional. Despite the playfulness behind it, Theo doesn’t know how you would feel about the man he’s become, and he doesn’t want to dwell on that fact. 

You continue to laugh as you shake your head.

“Mad behaviour.”

Theo eyed you. 

“Says the girl sitting on the counter, in the dark, eating cereal.”

You smiled as you take another bite.

“Got me there.”

It had been almost two months since Mattheo had taken you hostage and made you Theo’s problem. In an attempt to keep peace, Theo gave you free reign of the entire manor and all of the land around it. After repairing the furniture in the guest room (multiple times, as you had to get your frustration out somehow), Theo allowed you to stay there. Before his death, Nott Sr. had created a dungeon-esque holding below the house, with cage like cells and torture weapons, but Theo had the area of the house completely closed off upon his arrival as head of estate, and he wasn’t planning to reopen it anytime soon. Besides, the thought of locking you in an actual cell made Theo physically ill. 

“How’s the escape plot going?” Theo asked as he leaned against the counter adjacent from you, juice carton still in hand.

“Considering I can’t apparate because you already had anti apparation wards in place, the wards Mattheo placed that are linked to my DNA so I can’t leave the estate at all, and that bed being the most comfortable thing I’ve ever slept on…” You listed, raising a finger with every reason. “ … I’d say it’s going quite terribly.”

Theo’s eyebrows hit his hairline as he let out a surprised huff.

“Mattheo has always been quite meticulous.”

“Well, he said he was afraid you’d let me go.”

Theo’s smile faded quite quickly. 

The first couple of weeks following your capture, you had made yourself scarce around the manor, mostly spending time in the North wing. Theo made it a point to stay out of your way. Not only for the sake of your anger, but because he needed to work out his own emotions about you being there. Even in this moment, looking at you in the kitchen, he still hadn’t quite worked out how the whole thing made him him.

After the first couple of weeks, you had slowly started making your way through the manor, exploring every crevice. Every nook and cranny. Theo knew it was to look for a weakness to exploit that could lead to your escape, but he didn’t comment that to you. Just let it sit in the back of his head.

With your emergence from your room also came your increased interactions with the dark haired lad. It was painful at first, just a curt nod here and there, but it slowly built up to exchanging jokes and sarcastic comments, and even as far as the two of you reading books in silence together in the library.

It was almost as if there was never a moment between the days you and him spent together at Hogwarts and now. Just cut the time apart out and sew the rest together like the war never happened.

Theo often found himself wondering if he was one of the weaknesses you were attempting to exploit. 

Your comment about Mattheo believing Theo would let you go did nothing to snuff out that thought.

He tried not to think about it too much.

You watched him carefully as he took another long sip of juice from the carton.

“Have you decided what you’re going to do with me yet?” 

Theo rolled his eyes, setting the juice on the black countertop next to him. 

“Nope.”

He didn’t bother to ask how you knew it was even up for debate. You’d always had a knack for just knowing things. And he couldn’t imagine that his debates with Malfoy and Mattheo were as quiet as he would’ve liked them to be.

“What are you leaning towards?” You asked innocently, your eyes studying him. He bit the inside of his cheek as he considered how to answer.

“Let’s see,” He mumbled. “Malfoy thinks I should turn you in. He doesn’t see why you’re useful here, and says you’d be better suited as a healer for… them.” He decided not to say Death Eaters, but you flinched at the idea anyway. “Mattheo thinks I should keep you here.”

Your eyes didn’t leave him as you took another bite of your cereal. Theo mirrored you with the orange juice. 

“But what are you leaning towards?”

“Not turning you in, that’s for damn sure.”

Your gaze pinned him, as your eyes narrow only slightly.

“So I’m stuck here then.” It was more of a statement than a question, and something about it made an ache burst through Theo’s chest. He had no idea how to respond, so he opted to say nothing, instead bringing the juice carton back to his lips. Your eyes followed him. “Theo, you’re a rational person. You know that I don’t want to be here. Why can’t you just let me go back to the Order?”

His eyes fluttered shut.

“It’s complicated.”

You set the bowl down on the counter before looking back up at him.

“Then simplify it for me.” 

All he could say in a breathy whisper was your name.

He didn’t know how. He couldn’t even simplify it for himself. 

~

It all happens at once.

Theo quickly stands, pushing the chair out from under him so quickly that it glides across the floor and into the wall. 

Weasley rushes forward, his wand pointed at Theo.

Mattheo grabs Weasley by the scruff of his shirt, roughly shoving him into the wall with the tip of his wand jabbing into the ginger’s jugular. The impact of his back against the hard surface causes Weasley to drop his wand, which Mattheo swiftly kicks across the floor. 

Granger puts her wand only inches from Mattheo’s head, though he doesn’t appear to notice. 

Theo directs his wand to Granger.

“The difference between you and I, Weasley,” Mattheo hisses in his face. “Is that I don’t have any pathetic qualms about making a person suffer. So please. Point your wand at one of us again. We’ll see who comes out the bigger man.”

“That’s enough, Riddle!” Granger shouts, pressing her wand into Mattheo’s temple. Theo steps forward and jams his wand through her hair and into her occipital scalp.

“Drop it.”

A beat passes.

Mattheo’s face twitches.

Granger slowly lowers her hand, her jaw clenched so tight that Theo is convinced her teeth will crack.

“We all want the same outcome,” She says in a quiet voice, still glaring daggers at Mattheo.

“It’s how we get there that we can’t seem to see eye to eye on,” Theo growls. 

Letting his hand drop back to his side, Theo takes a step back towards the table he had previously been occupying. 

“Let him go, Mattheo.”

The curly haired man glares into Weasley’s face for a moment longer, letting his deep breath smack against the ginger’s face before he shoves him away. Theo’s eyes follow Mattheo as he walks back to his pacing area, and then they flick back to Granger. She looks incensed over what just occurred, as Weasley adjusts his shirt, embarrassment painting his cheeks pink.

Theo opts to stay standing this time. 

“She’s not a part of the equation,” He says in a low tone. “We can give you the maps, Finnegan and Lovegood for Malfoy. Or we can give nothing at all.” 

A draft fills the room as the wind can be heard whipping outside over the silence. 

“And again, we are well aware of Draco’s importance to the Death Eater army,” Granger says in a tone that matches Theo’s. “There is no option. It’s her or nothing.”

Theo fights the urge to curse her.

“Then it’s nothing.”

~

The door hit the wall so hard, Theo could almost feel the drywall dent. In the moment, however, he couldn’t give less of a shit.

You whipped around to face him. The anger on your face couldn’t be missed, but neither could his. For a while, the two of you just stared at each other, speaking through daggered glares and heaving chests, as if words weren’t necessary. 

It was a moment of deja vu, calling back to the first time the two of you met in what became your assigned bedroom of the house. Both times equally as tense, but for radically different reasons. And this time, all of the pieces of furniture were entirely intact. 

Finally, Theo broke the silence.

“What business do you have, entering the field?”

Your nostrils flared.

“What business do you have, almost getting yourself killed?”

A breeze came in through the window, chilling the room further. As if it needed the help. 

“I was handling myself fine,” He said in a low voice. “Injuries are bound to happen-“

“A pelvic fracture and an open head wound are both severe injuries,” You countered in a raised voice. “You may have felt fine in the moment but you wouldn’t have after you lost two liters of blood just from the fractured pelvis alone. You needed care.” 

Theo felt like throwing things as the anger flared heavily in his chest.

“I could’ve apparated back to the manor after-“

“You would’ve splinched yourself with that severe of injuries, Theo,” You snarled, looking exasperated. “Mattheo came and got me.”

Theo made a mental note to kick the absolute shit out of Mattheo the next time he saw him.

“You could’ve said no!” He shouted. “You’re not my bloody on-call healer who gets to risk her life whenever I almost die.” The image of you in the middle of the fight, dodging multiple green casts in your wake, was burned into his retinas. Despite being safe in the Manor now, his chest was still reeling from the panic that flooded his heart and lungs when he fought to get to you.

You took a rushed step forward.

“Don’t fucking do that,” You said in a strained voice. “You don’t get to drag my arse back into your life-“

“You think I wanted this for you?” He shouted, cutting you off. “I didn’t drag you anywhere. I didn’t bring you here. I didn’t ask for this.”

You took another step towards him, more controlled this time. Theo almost took a step backwards to keep the distance.

Almost.

“But you kept me here. Why am I still fucking here, Theo?”

The words left his mouth before his brain had a chance to even consider them.

“Because you fucking left me before I was fucking done with you!”

Theo’s chest heaved, as he stared down at you. The room became painfully silent, the only sound being Theo’s breathing. You were holding your breath. 

“What does that mean?”

Theo didn’t hesitate for a moment.

“You left me to join the Order. You left me behind and I went bloody maniacal. I didn’t know a person could be touch starved for a specific set of hands, but your fingers burned their prints into my skin and I can’t get them to goddamn heal. And then Mattheo dropped you on my fucking door step and it was like I was an imprisoned man who just felt the warmth of the sun for the first time in years.”

You were frozen, staring at him like a deer in headlights.

“Theo…” A breathy whisper.

Theo shook his head, feeling a mix of anger and desperation in his head and heart. When he spoke, his voice was more calm this time, taking a low tone. 

“If love were a language then the only one I know how to speak is the one we wrote together. I couldn’t lose you again. I can’t lose you again.”

It was unclear who moved first. Maybe Theo. Maybe you. Maybe both. But somehow, the distance between the two of you closed, and Theo’s mouth was crashing against yours.

His left hand was on the small of your back, the other on the back of your head. His fingers weaved through your hair with a firm grip, as if to keep you from pulling away. Your hands were on his cheeks, lightly cradling his head between your palms as your fingertips teased the beginnings of his hairline. 

“I love you,” He said in a silent voice, his lips still pressed against yours in the desperate kiss. “I never stopped.”

“I love you too.” Your words came without a sliver of hesitation.

His tongue parted your lips, as your fingers moved to the back of his head. A groan forced its way up his throat. Your nails against his scalp drove him insane. It always had. Theo knew you knew that well. 

And with that, he pushed you onto the bed. 

~ 

“So…”

Theo closes his eyes at the sound of Mattheo’s voice. His steps are slow as they walk up the pathway of Nott Manor. In an effort to prolong the inevitable, Theo pulls a cigarette from his pocket, setting it between his lips before lighting it with his wand. 

“We don’t have a choice, do we?”

Theo looks up at the sky as he blows a plume of smoke upwards to join the clouds. He can’t look at Mattheo.

“No,” He finally says. “We don’t.”

Mattheo pulls a smoke of his own out, lighting it before taking a deep inhale. The only sounds in the air are the wind and his exhale.

“What if we just stopped aiding them?” He suggested after a beat too long of silence. “They’re losing. They need the information we’re feeding them. A few weeks without it would have them feeding out of our palms.”

Theo considers this as he plops down on the top step leading onto the porch. The cold from the wood seeps through his trousers.

Not that his body held any warmth to begin with. Not since he walked out of that bar.

“We don’t have a few weeks.”

Another cloud fills the air.

“The Dark Lord wants Malfoy back now.”

Theo’s heart already feels hollow as he thinks about what he is getting ready to do. 

Mattheo paces the cobblestone pathway, running his fingers through his curls as he takes another long drag of his cigarette.

“There has to be a way.”

Theo studies his friend. There’s very few people Mattheo holds loyalty to. The Order wasn’t on the list, despite the way they were risking everything to help them. The other Death Eaters didn’t have it. Hell, even his own father only held enough of Mattheo’s loyalty to keep him alive. Not enough for it to matter.

But Mattheo, from the moment they met until this moment in front of Nott Manor, was always fiercely loyal to Theo. And the way he desperately tries to come up with a solution to fix this for Theo pulls at his heart.

Because his loyalty to Theo also extends to you. When Theo told Mattheo that he was planning to betray Voldemort’s army in an effort to end the war and keep you with him, Mattheo wasted no time in joining him. No questions asked.

Mattheo was willing to risk his head to keep you safe if that was what Theo needed. And in this moment, Theo knew he didn’t thank his friend enough. 

His hands shake slightly as he brings the cigarette back to his mouth.

“I don’t think there is.”

He doesn’t want to sound as defeated as he does. But as his mind runs a million kilometers a second, it still comes up short on a way of getting out of this. 

Mattheo shakes his head angrily.

“This is bullshit.”

And Theo says nothing, his gaze fixed on the ground as he finishes his cigarette, and plans what he’s going to say once he goes inside. 

~

Oh Merlin, do I really have to leave?

Theo sat on the edge of his bed, staring down at your sleeping form. Your back was facing him, the blanket low enough to show the bare skin of your upper torso. 

He swallowed hard.

Five minutes. Just another five minutes.

But he knew he wouldn’t stop at five.

He was in his Death Eater robes, dressed to leave. This meeting wasn’t one he could afford to miss, and yet, watching you sleep in his bed was enough to make him at least consider it. 

Reaching over, he traced the lines of your right scapula, moving down to the left, feeling your smooth skin and shoulder blades beneath his fingertips. Your body rose and fell with every breath you took, but you did not stir at his touch. He brushed your hair down to the side so it all fell concurrently onto the sheets. 

Every time he tried to stand, his legs would defy him. 

Bloody hell, this is impossible, he thought to himself.

The temptation to kiss you was strong, but he resisted. He didn’t want to wake you, because then you would know he was leaving, and then you’d ask questions. One’s he didn’t yet want to offer up the answers to.

You didn’t know what he was about to do.

The door creaked open, making Theo jump. Mattheo stood at the threshold, also in his robes. His eyes flitted between his friend and you, before they settled on Theo again. All he did was nod, a gesture that Theo returned, before turning and leaving once again.

A sigh forcing its way out of his lungs, Theo stood up from the bed. Before walking out the door, he threw one last fleeting glance your way.

This better fucking work.

Once the door to his bedroom was shut, Theo walked through the manor in a flash, before finding Mattheo standing in the front garden. His friend gave him a look, and it was not lost on Theo the anxiety in his expression.

“Are you sure about this?”

Mattheo’s words hung in the air, swirling around above them with the wind. Theo slowly let his head fall backwards as he stared at the sky. For once in his life, his thoughts weren’t racing. He was confident in this decision. He had never been more confident about anything. 

“I’m sure.”

No more words were said. 

Grabbing Mattheo’s forearm, the two men apparated. When they reappeared, it was in an empty warehouse in Sussex. Windows lined the walls just a meter or so below the ceiling. The walls themselves were painted an off white colour that left them looking dirty, with hand prints and muck dusting the paint. It felt too big, in Theo’s opinion. If this were to become a regular thing, they’d need something smaller. With seats, preferably.

The two got to work, placing wards and disillusionment charms everywhere they could. Before they knew it, a whole hour had passed, and they were just finishing up. 

“You know I hate this right?” Mattheo asked as they regrouped in the center of the giant room. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Not what we’re doing necessarily but this meeting?”

Theo had to fight the urge to laugh.

“You think I like this any more than you do?”

Mattheo shook his head as he looked around the warehouse, taking in the metal beams that lined the ceiling. 

Theo took the moment of quiet to get his thoughts in order. Ever since he sent that damn letter, he had dreaded this moment. And now it was here, and though he had spent countless hours stewing and preparing, right now, he felt completely naked and defenseless. 

A sensation filled the air. Theo looked over at the same time that Mattheo did. The door creaked open, the sound echoing off the walls and around the air, before Hermione Granger, followed by Ron Weasley, the Weasley twins, Dean Thomas, Ginny Weasley, another Weasley they couldn’t place, and the blonde Triwizard Tournament champion from fourth year who Theo, for the life of him, could not remember the name of.

“All Gryffindors, mostly Weasels,” Mattheo mumbled under his breath. “Too much bloody red around here.” 

Theo fought the impulse to laugh.

The crowd of Order members approached them, all looking apprehensive. Granger stepped forward, her eyes jumping between the two of them.

“Nott.” When her eyes bounced back to Mattheo, the disdain became more apparent. When she spoke again, she spat the word out. “Riddle.”

Mattheo gritted his teeth as Theo took a step forward, saving them the risk of what would happen if Mattheo were the next to speak.

“Granger.”

He debated on greeting the others, but decided against it. There simply wasn’t time for pleasantries. Besides, Theo didn’t particularly want to be polite to them. And he knew that Mattheo wanted nothing more than to raze the whole warehouse just because he saw that familiar flash of ginger hair one time, let alone several. So it was probably best to get right to the point.

“What’s this about?” The unfamiliar Weasley called out. 

It was hard for Theo not to grow annoyed. The amount of people in the building had him feeling overwhelmed, though he couldn’t exactly blame him. How else should they have responded? It could’ve been a trap, for all they knew. 

The moment Theo reached into his back pocket, a swarm of wands were pointing in his direction. In his periphery, he could see Mattheo’s fists clench. though he was grateful that his friend didn’t immediately start spitting off hexes and Unforgivables. Theo froze more out of politeness than fear, then slowed his movements down. With the same speed as a snail, he pulled out a couple of scrolls, tossing it on the floor halfway between where he stood and where she stood. The wands all moved to point at the scroll in the same way they would point at a bomb. 

“Those are plans for upcoming raids on your safe houses,” Theo explained. “Now you can be better prepared.”

The reaction was comical. At least, to Theo, it was.

Granger stared at the scrolls, her mouth agape. Ron and Ginny kept their wands pointed at it in a way that suggested they were convinced it was anything but a scroll. The twins backed away from it entirely. Dean Thomas stared not at the scroll, but at Mattheo specifically, confusion painting his expression. The unfamiliar Weasley with the scars on his face jumped away when Theo threw the scroll, and had not moved since. And the blonde looked like she wanted to approach it, but was too afraid to let her feet move. 

Granger was the first to speak.

“Why should we trust you?”

A draft filled the room.

“Trust us or don’t,” Mattheo quipped. “You’re losing. You’ve been losing. Pathetically. We’re guaranteeing you a win right now. Whether you decide to take that chance is up to you.”

The silence was deafening as the members of the Order all exchanged looks, looking absolutely flabbergasted by this turn of events. It was clear they were trying to have a conversation through their facial expressions. Every muscle in Theo’s body tensed as he waited for their reaction. 

This has to work, He thought to himself. 

This will work.

“What do you get out of this?”

Granger’s words hung in the hair, and though the question was for the both of them, her eyes were pointedly trained on Mattheo. When the two Death Eaters remained silent, she continued. 

“You’re betraying your families. Your fathers. What could you possibly have to gain, besides maybe a pardon from execution if we win?” She sneers. “And even that isn’t guaranteed.”

Visions of you lying in his bed, only covered by the duvet cover, overtook Theo’s head. He found himself wondering if you’d woken up yet. If you’d eaten. If you’d slept well. If you’d realised he’d left. The lump in his throat felt like a bolder when he swallowed it down. His fingertips burned with the feeling of your bare skin underneath them. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Theo sees Mattheo glance over at him. 

This is, after all, Theo’s doing. So it’s his question to answer. 

“Family isn’t everything,” Theo said in a low tone. “And some people are worth yielding for.”

~

Rise.

Fall.

Rise.

Fall.

It takes Theo a full half hour before he finally finds you in the manor. Here you are, curled up on the couch in the library with one of his robes covering you like a blanket. Your back faces him as your face is nuzzled against the fabric of the back of the couch. 

Deja vu hits him hard.

Instead of waking you, Theo sits on the ottoman beside you and counts the amount of breaths you take. At the moment, he’s up to about sixty since he started. It’s easier on his heart to sit in the silence, only filled with your quiet snores.

It’s easier for his heart to handle than what it knows he has to do. 

But he knows that he’s only prolonging the inevitable.

Letting out a deep sigh, Theo reaches over and places his hand on your shoulder, gently shaking you awake. 

“Hey,” He says in a low voice in an attempt to not startle you. “It’s me. Wake up.”

Your head springs upward, looking around at the back of the couch before you roll over to face Theo. The way your eyes light up at the sight of him makes his heart ache in a way he’ll never be able to describe. It’s like he misses you before you’ve even left. 

A soft yawn takes over your face for just a brief moment, and is quickly replaced with a tired smile.

“How’d it go?”

Theo bites down on the inside of his cheek so hard that he can taste blood.

I can’t do this.

I can’t do this.

You have to do this.

“Not great.”

The smile fades from your face. As quickly as your still waking up body allows, you sit up, rolling over to face him entirely. Theo sits up straight as you pause, watching as the wheels turn in your head to process what he had said.

“What happened?” Your voice is so small, and something about it gives Theo the impression that you already know where this conversation is about to go. He sighs heavily. The pain in his upper back makes it feel like he has the entire world on his shoulders.

“They wouldn’t return Malfoy to us,” He explains. In an effort to hide the shake in his voice, he speaks slowly. “They… they had specific conditions for his release.” 

The hush blanketing the room is only pacified by the pounding in Theo’s ears. 

If there is one thing about you that Theo knows deeply, it’s that you can’t keep your emotions off your face. So it’s to his great dismay that he watches your expression shift from confusion, to thoughtful, to realisation.

“They want me, don’t they?”

The words feel like a bullet each, piercing through Theo’s chest and implanting straight into his heart. 

I can’t bloody do this.

“Yes.”

Suddenly, the quiet that overtakes the room is less welcome as that one single word hangs over the two of you like a storm cloud threatening a downpour. The way Theo’s mind runs a million kilometers a second makes it so deafening. He can see the conflict on your face as you consider what needs to be done. The downward cast of your sleep stained eyes and the way you curl your lip in thought makes him want to burn the entire Order to the ground so he doesn’t have to even consider losing you.

He sucks in through his nose as the hand on his knee clenches tightly into a fist.

When your eyes drift back up to meet his, matching resolve in your expression, Theo has to swallow down the urge to cry. 

“When?”

His nails dig into his palm.

“Mattheo’s going to take you once you’re ready.”

A frown crosses over your face. 

“You're not going?” 

Theo can’t recall another time in his life where he’s felt as broken as he does now, looking into your sad stricken and confused eyes.

He’s losing you again.

He’s losing you again. 

“I can’t.” He swallows the lump in his throat that makes his words come out choked. “I… I wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

He lets the rest of his thoughts remain left unsaid. That he would kill them before they could even leave the area with you. That he’d kill every last one of them for taking the only good thing he’d had during this god forsaken war. The entire reason he had broken his loyalties to the Dark Lord in an attempt to put it to an end. 

And now, he has to watch you leave him.

Again.

Anguish and surprise conflict your face, making him take your hand in his and hold it tightly.

“I’ll figure it out, okay?” The desperation in his voice is so palpable that you can feel it bleeding onto the skin of your fingertips. Theo’s eyes never leave yours. “I’ll finish this. For you. For us.”

You fill the spaces between his fingers with your own.

You haven’t even left yet, but Theo begins to dread the ghost of your touch that will be left behind once you are. It’s a feeling he knows too intimately.

“What if we lose?” You ask him in a soft whisper. “Or what if one of us doesn’t make it?”

The air leaves Theo’s lungs, evaporating from the heat of your words.

He wants to dig a bunker and hide you in it, keeping you far away from the sins of the war and the pain of ever leaving his side. He wants to blow up the world and watch from space with you on his arm. He wants to do anything, literally anything that would take away the hurt in your eyes. 

Images of the many ways he wishes to kill the Dark Lord and end this devastation flash through his mind.

“I need you to hear me when I say this,” Theo says in a slow tone. “I will do whatever it takes to ensure my return to you. Even if that means I have to blow through the gates of hell myself and crawl out of my grave. Make no bloody mistake. I will come back for you.”

#theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fanfiction #theo nott fanfiction #golden trio era #golden trio era fanfiction #.txt

[ripdragonbeans]

All Mine // Darkish!Aemond x Twin!Reader

A/N this is my first time writing canon and darkish Aemond so it's a little rough

CW: light choking, talk of indefinitely (only talk, no actual indefinitely), spanking, breeding kink, afab reader, profanity, canon typical incest

When Aegon II died it was Aemond who took the crown to be king. And what a king he was. He ruled with an iron fist and left little to no room to waste time. Unlike his brother, Aemond wanted to rule Westeros and lusted for the iron throne. He used to desire you constantly but since he took the throne that has since been cast aside.

Once he took the throne that was all he could think of, where his focus would be. Even when it was just the two of you in your bedchambers you could tell his attention was not solely on you. Gone were the evenings of bliss with your dear husband. Gone were the stolen kisses and the secret meetings in the library. Now it was all small council meetings and the like.

Like many nights, you stood by the window; your back to the interior of the room. You stared out into the night and wondered when you'd have your Lord husband to yourself again. Just the two of you.

You heard the door creek open and could not help but stiffen at the noise.

“Good evening, husband,” you quietly said. You turned around only to hear him grunt as he took off his clothes, ready for the end of the night.

You loved how he looked at the end of the day, disheveled from work, taking off the mask of a newly crowned king. If only it would be constant.

“How was your day?” You asked as you stepped forward to help him.

Aemond held up a hand to stop you from getting too close. He did not want help, similar to the lack of help he desired nowadays.

“Please, I wish to help in any way I can. I miss you, I miss spending time with you, Aemond. Let me do this for you.”

“I do not need help,” he said curtly. “You are my wife. All that you need to do now is produce an heir. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“But what if I want to do more?”

“I said no. There are more pressing matters than how often we lay together. An heir, one heir is all that is needed, wife.”

You stared at Aemond, shocked and upset.

“What has happened to you? You become a king and suddenly I am nothing to you! Are you seeing a whore? Is that what it is?”

Aemond shot up and in three quick strides he was in front of you, his hand around your neck.

“Do not dare,” he leaned in so close you could feel his breath upon your ear. “Do not dare to compare me to our brother, wife. I would never go so low as to find a whore when I have my own ever willing wife. Even if I did find a whore I would not dine to tell you as it would be none of your business.”

The thought of Aemond with another was enough to bring tears to your eyes and when he saw them he scoffed and removed his hand from your neck. He kept you trapped between him and the wall.

“My dear twin, does the thought of me with another really bother you so much? You were the one who brought it up, you should not feel so upset.”

“I love you, Aemond. I could not bear to see you with another.”

“Oh, and what would you do, dear wife? End yourself?”

“If that is what would be needed to prove my love for you then yes. I'd die a thousand deaths if I saw you with another and had a chance to convince you to come back to me.”

“Oh, my darling twin,” he caressed your cheek with then back of his hand. “There is only one thing you need to do.”

Aemond roughly turned you around and pressed himself against you. The talk of possibly another in your place, it seems, had aroused him. You could feel his hardness through your nightgown and could not help but groan and lay your head on his shoulder.

“Already moaning for me? You said you were afraid of a whore but maybe that whore is you,” he whispered.

You could not help but to press against him. Aemond followed suit and grabbed your hips to move against him. It was exhilarating.

When he had found he had had enough he grabbed you by the shoulders and threw you into the bed.

“Do not worry, I can fuck you like a whore,” he promised.

Aemond all but tore the nightgown off, exposing you to the chill air. Your nipples pebbled immediately and you arched your back in welcome. He looked down at you with such a feral expression you knew you were his prey for the night. Crawling over your body, he kissed and bit everywhere he pleased, marking you as his.

“No one else,” he groaned against you, “no one else. You are mine and I will have you as I please.”

“Yes, Aemond,” you breathed.

Praying open your legs he licked his lips at the glistening cunt before him.

“Look at you, already wet for my cock.”

He teased your entrance, wanting nothing more than for him to be inside you.

“Please, please,” you begged.

“Whores do not get to beg. They take what is given.”

He sheathed himself in one fluid motion, not giving you any time to adjust to his size before pistoning in and out your wet cunt. Aemond’s hands went to your chest, giving him something to hold on to as well as to tease your buds. The sensation was so much your back was beginning to arch up once again.

“Aemond, I'm about to cum,” you cried.

Instantly he pulled out of you and bent down to bring his hand to your throat once more and whispered, “Whores do not get to cum whenever they please, they wait until they are told. Am I understood?”

All you could do was nod and prepare yourself for him once more.

“On your stomach,” he ordered.

You made your way to turn over but took too much time as Aemond gripped your hips to all but toss you onto your stomach. He pulled your ass up in the air and gave it a hard smack.

“That is for assuming I'd sleep with a whore.” Smack. “That is for comparing me to Aegon.” Smack. “That is for being a whore for me tonight.”

He briefly rubbed the red mark that now marred your backside before plunging himself once again into your wet cunt.

“You take me so well. I will fuck you until we get an heir, my wife.”

“Yes, I want that,” you moaned. It was all you could do in the haze of bliss.

“Watch you grow round with my babe, your tits fill with milk, fuck!”

Aemond continued to fuck you hard until his rhythms became sloppy. He bowed down to be as close to you as possible.

“Cum with me. I want to feel you clench around my cock.”

The coil in your stomach that has been tightening since the moment he sheathed himself in you finally broke and you let out a soundless scream as white pleasure took your vision. Your orgasm triggered Aemond’s and you could feel him spill his seed inside of you.

He collapsed on top of you, breathing hard. “No one else, my wife.”

With that he got up and left to the bathing chamber.

#fics by bean #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #canon hotd #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fic #aemond one eye

[ponderingmoonlight]

Nanami losing it completely when (y/n) gets severely injured at Shibuya

Shibuya Arc scenarios that live in my head rent-free pt.lll

Part l with Gojo and Geto here Part ll with Toji here

Pairing: Nanami Kento x reader

Word Count: 2,3k

Synopsis: After receiving a message with your location, Nanami rushes to your side, showing no mercy with the man who laid his hands on you.

Warnings: I literally shed a tear while writing this so be prepared, sooo much hurt, comfort at the end, you wanted this and I wanted it too this is one of my favorite fics I have ever written

His gaze is empty as he stares down at the bloody shell of his friend. Severely injured by multiple blade slashes, completely covered in his own blood, his life hanging on a thin thread.

“You have some nerves…”, he mutters.

Nanami clenches his hands into fists. Whoever did this will pay for it with his own life, he will make sure of that. But right now he has to get his friend out of here, provide him with better medical treatment, check on the other assistants, make sure that they are alright, eliminate whatever is responsible for Ijichi’s condition. What if that thing hurt the others too? Fuck, how the hell did all of this happen? And where the hell are you?

“(y/n)”, he breathes out.

His heart sinks when reality starts to hit him.

You.

You were also stationed here. After all, you aren’t a jujutsu sorcerer but a skilled combat fighter with impressive powers. You were right here, right here with Ijichi.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be alright!”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. His strong arms lift Ijichi’s numb body up with ease, thoughts racing. If something happened to you, if these fuckers harm a single hair on you…

He runs as fast as he can, fueled by nothing but thick fear and all the emotions that wash over him like a wave. He might lose it all. His friend, everyone else, you. The love of his life, the only woman who truly fascinates him, his best friend. And he hasn’t even told you all that. No, Nanami never shared his feelings with you, not when his fear of losing you is so great. But right now, with the death of his friend in front of his blank eyes, it dawns on him.

After this night, he might lose you forever.  

“Please be alright, I’m coming for you (y/n).”

-(y/n)'s POV-

Your whole body burns like a thousand fires, blood soaking your black suit. Everything aches, you feel like fainting, your sword lifelessly lays on the crimson floor. Is this really how your life comes to an end? Through the hands of someone like him?

“You fucker”, you spit out along with some blood, fists still ready to hit him again.

“Huh, why so rude? I’m just playing a little”, he replies sweetly before beating you in your guts again, his blade narrowly missing you.

It can’t go on like this, you can’t take any other hit. Your puny figure lands on the floor harshly, body desperately screaming at you with every fiber.

But you can’t stop now. After all, Nitta and all the other assistants are relying on you. Right now, you have to be your own hero.

“Standing up again? I’m starting to get bored to be honest. Why can’t you just die already?”

One moment of inattention. One second of giving in to your pain is enough for him to stab his blade through your shoulder, slicing your flesh open with ease. You see stars, the overwhelming pain that starts to radiate through your entire body simply takes your breath away. All you can do is stare at him with wide eyes while a silent scream escapes your lips.

You’ve had so much planned. Damn, you wanted to finally confess your feelings to him. Nanami Kento, the man you admire more than anyone else on this planet, the man that showed you there’s still class, who gets on his knees when talking to you, who makes sure you feel save whenever he’s around. God, how much you love him.

Your face hardens in determination. No, you can’t die without at least telling him once about your true feelings towards him.

With a swift motion you steady yourself again before kicking him with so much force that he crushes into the wall backwards, laughing hysterically.

“Finally you show me what you’ve got!”, he screams out in please while you pant hard.

It’s obvious that you don’t have much left, hanging on a thin string. The amount of blood you’ve lost due to your countless wounds is critical, you don’t need Shoko to know that. If help doesn’t arrive soon, you’ll die right here.

You could call him. Nanami’s number is just one swipe of your finger away. You could call him and tell him where you are, that you’re in big trouble and that you need him just like he told you.

“(y/n), if anything goes wrong, don’t hesitate and call me. I can’t afford to lose you. Promise me to look after yourself.”

He stared so intensely at you back then, his words made your heart skip a beat. But you can’t call him. After all, Nanami is on a much more important mission with countless life relying on his broad shoulders. It would be selfish to expect him to save you while so many people are dying.

“I’m sorry, Kento”, you mumble to yourself, voice nothing more but a fade away whisper.

No, don’t cry right now, don’t let the enemy see that you suffer. Nanami wouldn’t want you so feel this way. Stand your ground one last time, fight back as hard as you can.

One last distress signal. One last way to warn and protect the rest of the team.

“I’ve told everyone where you are, moron”, you shout at him, a maniac grin plastered on your face.

“Ow, how nice of you! Then I’ll hang your body up uhm…right there so they can see you when they come here!”, he remarks with sparkling eyes.

“I’d love to see you try”, you bark back.

-Nanami's POV-

“It’s (y/n)’s location”, Nitta huffs while Nanami bandages Ijichi up and Nobara is busy contacting help.

His heart stops for a second. This means you’re still alive and able to use your phone. But why would you send your location?

“She must have found something…”, Nanami ponders out loud.

“Do you think she needs help?”

Nitta’s voice echoes through his mind. To be honest, he doesn’t care about why you shared your location. All he wants to do right now is find and save you.

“You both stay here with Ijichi. I’ll go looking after (y/n).”

“Can I-“

“No”, Nanami immediately interrupts Nobara’s request.

“You stay here and wait for aid.”

And with that, he’s gone again, following your location blinking on his phone. Please be safe, please smile at him like you always do when you see him, eyes lighting up and making his heart melt. God, just be save.

His feet carry him to your location with ease but let him stop abruptly at the trail of blood in front of the building you are positioned in. Nanami feels like throwing up, the worst scenarios flooding his mind while he stares at the crimson colored floor. He should have accompanied you. No, he shouldn’t have allowed you to come to Shibuya in the first place.

With his head still spinning, he storms into the building and his world stops.

There you lay, in a puddle of your own blood, completely covered in bruises while a man raises his blade against you, just about to sink it into your precious body.

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you.”

That voice. That all too familiar voice that brings tears to your eyes. Is he really here? Did he get the notification? A single droplet rolls down your cheek while your hazy gaze meets his. He looks so different, absolutely threatening.

Nanami rolls up his sleeves and walks towards both of you. Fuck, you’ve never seen him like this, his aura almost suffocates you. It is clear that he’s absolutely furious.

“I’ll tell you one last time. Back off.”

“Or what?”, the man above you challenges.

“Or I’ll make you regret that you were born.”

His voice makes your blood freeze. As if in slow motion, Nanami loosens his tie and wraps it around his hand.

“Huh, you’re not wearing a black suit, but I guess I’m still allowed to ki-“

He isn’t able to finish his sentence. Nanami’s fist rushes forward in god-like speed, slamming the man off you, through the window, into the next building.

“I’ll be right back. Hold on, sweetheart”, he mutters.

With one last glance at you, he steps out into the cold night, only inches away from losing his temper completely. Who does this man think he is to lay is hands on you and his friends? This is unacceptable, this is unforgivable. Nanami will make him pay for every minor wound conflicted on your striking body, he will make him regret his whole life before ending it.

“What’s the number and locations of your allies?”

It isn’t enough to only kill him. No, every single one of these fuckers will pay for what they did today. For killing countless assistants, for almost ending the life of his friend.

But most importantly, for hurting the love of his life.

“I don’t know!”, the man hollers at him, trying to slice him open unsuccessfully.

Nanami stares at him with dead calm eyes while he tries to hit him another time, his patience slowly starting to fail him.

“What’s the number and locations of your allies?!”

His hands are clenches into tight fists. One more word. One more word of nonsense coming out of his mouth and he’ll kill him.

“I don’t k-“

Enough. One punch is enough to send that fucker through the next window.

You can’t help but admire the way Nanami walks up to him, his forearms flexed in a way you have never seen before while his broad shoulders seem to crush you with his confidence. He looks absolutely threatening, like a menace.

The blond-haired man tries to escape, but in the matter of seconds, Nanami grabs his ponytail and lifts him up.

“What’s the number and locations of your allies?”

You hold your breath, eyes wide open by the sound of his voice. This isn’t the Nanami Kento you know, the tender man with cool temper that never loses it. But oh, at the moment you feel like he’s possessed with the way his muscles flex underneath his shirt, the look on his face so furious that you have to swallow.

“I told you, I don’t kn-“

Another hit and the blonde lands on the ground, a dumb smile plastered on his face. You know that look all too well, he has planned something…Where is his blade?

There it is, on its way to slash Nanami open. You don’t hesitate. Despite the way your shoulder screams at you and begs you to stop, you grab your sword and throw it, deflecting his blade deftly just before it reaches Nanami while crying out in pain.

“You little bitch, stay out!”, he screams at you.

Nanami snaps. He grabs his throat roughly, chocking him without any mercy.

“You have some nerves, calling her a bitch when I’m standing in front of you. How dare you to even talk to her, to lay your hands on her body? On my way here, I found several of our assistant supervisors dead. That was you, wasn’t it? And now you dare to raise your voice against my girl?”

“I-I’m sorry”, the blonde stutters.

It happens faster than your tired eyes can follow. One last blow of Nanami’s fist sends the man out of the building, out of sight. This killed him without any doubt. Your eyes begin to water uncontrollably when a wave of relief washes over you. Despite all the blood you’ve lost, you’re alive. Nanami is here, he saved you.

“Don’t stand up, (y/n). You’re losing a severe amount of blood”, Nanami’s calm voice instructs before he kneels down in front of you.

“Kento”, you whisper his name like a prayer, tears rolling down your cheeks as the pain becomes unbearable.

“I know, sweetheart. You did really well, I’m so proud of you. Without your selfless efforts, he would probably have claimed even more victims. I still don’t call it good that you didn’t inform me about this situation.”

His hand caresses your bruised cheek gently, making you lose it completely.

“I didn’t want other people to get killed because you were busy with me”, you cough out.

“(y/n), no matter how critical the situation is, I will always look after you. You are the greatest treasure of my life and I…”

“I love you!”, you cry out, pressing your head against his head.

All these countless nights of dreaming about him holding you, all the stolen glances, the pondering. You just can’t take it anymore. Maybe it’s the blood loss or the immense pain that seems to speak out of you, but you’ve had enough. Fuck getting rejected or losing him because of your dumb feelings, you need him to know.

“I love you too, sweetheart. When I saw you laying here in your own blood I felt like dying myself.”

All you can do is stare at him through glossy eyes. Did this words really just leave his mouth? Of all the possible answers you imagined for this moment, “I love you too”, definitely wasn’t one of them.

“Let’s talk about this later, shall we? I need to get you out of here, you need medical attention”, he continues.

“I will pick you up now, okay?”

His hands glide under your knees and back, lifting your aching body up with ease and pressing your frame against his chest.

You groan out, hand cramping around his shirt.

“Thank you for saving me. And for loving me.”

His heart skips a beat, the lovely look on your distressed face almost making him forget how to breathe. How is it possible that a perfect human being like you loves someone like him? His arms wrap themselves tighter around your body.

“Don’t thank me for that, sweetheart.”

He will never let you go again. Not at Shibuya, not anywhere else.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk season 2 #jjk shibuya arc #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #jujutsu nanami #kento nanami #kento nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #jjk kento #kento x reader #nanami #nanamin #nanami fluff #jjk hurt #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk fluff #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #nobara kugisaki #jjk nobara

[lure-of-writing]

Never been good enough

Authors note: I haven't written in forever so please forgive me if this isn't the best but I would love to hear what you think!

Summary: You would never be good enough for Ariel

Word Count: 2.3k Warnings: Arguing, curse words, mentions of death, Elain slander, Tamlin makes an appearance

Part two: Left in regret

Part three: Why can't We?

There was always something so enticing about Azriel that you could never put your finger on. To simply put it he was fascinating. Being a part of the inner circle for as long as you have meant that you put your feelings for him aside, did what you thought was best for the group. Not only that but Azriel never gave you any signs that he was interested in you and there was no way you would let him know about your feelings. What if you guys dated and it didn't work out? Or worse, what if you told him and he didn’t feel the same way? These types of thoughts made a home in your head and they made it a point to consistently remind you that Azriel would only ever be a friend. But hey, better a friend then nothing at all, Right?

That was until Rhysand met Feyre and in turn met Nesta and Elain. This is where your downfall began. You were truly happy for your high lord and new high lady but could have done without her sisters. Nesta was always ready to pick a fight and tear you down with her words as if she were some wild animal backed into a corner that would bite if you tried to pet it. The comparison wasn’t far off, she basically was a wild animal. Elain on the other hand was, well, contemptible at best. From what you knew Elain was basically loved by all in the inner circle but you. There was just something about her that irked you to your core. In a world that praised the strong and belittled the weak, her innocence bothered you. Why did Feyre have to do everything for her sisters, especially the middle one? As an older sister yourself you would have made any sacrifice necessary to protect your little sister. In fact you did. Maybe that's why you resented the middle sister. 

Before the new additions were made to your family life was perfect, before under the mountain of course, the group was a perfectly balanced number and each person had their person. Rys with Armen, Mor and Cassian, you and Azriel. The group would spend long days giving each other a run for their money with stupid bets and at night you would have an even longer night getting drunk at ritas, but ever since Ryhsand met Feyre things changed almost instantly. It was like the people you once knew completely changed over night. You still knew who they were to their core but you didn’t recognize who they had become. 

Cassian bowed to an unwavering, impolite, ungrateful human turned fae also known as Nesta, he was willing to die for someone who would never give the time of day to even acknowledge that he existed. Amren found company in her ruthlessness, found friendship and understanding in her unbothered face. 

Mor found sisterhood among the complexities of healing with Feyre, through the grief and joy and thousands of other emotions one feels when finding themselves after trauma.

Ryhsand found his mate, the one he never thought he would meet. The one he was willing to die for as long as that meant she was safe.  

Azriel saw the need to protect someone as delicate as Elain. So he did. 

And you, you found a changed group of people before your very own eyes. 

“Azriel can I please hold the fancy special dagger?” the Shadowsinger simply stares at you from the other side of the ring. Today had been training day for everyone excluding Amren, if you asked her she would say it didn’t pertain to her, and while the boys took turns sparring you were teaching Mor a new fighting technique you learned recently. “No” the short answer was no surprise to you at all. “Why not? I even said please and I never say please” the inner circle could not wait to witness this scene unfold for this wasn’t an uncommon occurrence but considering that you were Azriels favorite amongst the group even if he refused to say it, they thought that maybe one day you would wear him down enough to the point where he lets you hold the truth teller. “y/n I have never let anyone hold that dagger and you will not be the first. You are more than capable of handling yourself without my blade.” “Exactly I am more than capable of handling a dagger Azriel. One day I will get the truth teller in my hands just you wait.” he simply raised his shoulders in a shrugging manner as if to say “yeah I’m not concerned”

To say you were surprised that Azriel gave Elain the truth teller would be an understatement but honestly you should of seen it coming. Not even a few days before he was rushing into the hybern camp to save Elain without any second thought. There was never a time in the five hundred years where Azriel threw himself into a situation like that where he didn’t at least take some time to plan everything out. As a spy yourself you knew that at least having a fraction of a plan could save your life but it appeared Arizel was willing to die to save her. Feyre's sister be damned. So to watch from afar as he handed over his dagger to inexperienced hands was truly a gut wrenching experience. How could your closest friend of literally hundreds of years spend his potentially last moments with someone who was basically a stranger instead of a true friend? It was a revealing moment, it either showed how kind he was to try and help a defenseless person have a means to defend themselves if the time came where it was needed or he truly had changed and no longer cared for you. You would have your answer sooner than you had hoped. 

For as long as you have existed you were trained as a spy for the cover up of an  assassin. It made you as deadly as anyone else in the inner circle, maybe even deadlier since no one ever saw their death by your hands coming. So when the time came to go to war you were ready. The Battle was bloody and ugly and cruel. It was long and it felt never ending for every body you cut down it seemed there was ten more to replace it. When you watched as Cassin dove from the sky just as the cauldron unleashed its power amongst the world, the fight seemed hopeless. How were you supposed to win when hybern had that kind of power to be used whenever the king wished? But as a warrior in your own right you just wished that when you died upon this battle field that it wasn’t for nothing. That everyone in your family made it home by the end of this war, you may not recognize your family anymore but they meant the world to you and you just wanted them to be safe no matter the cost. 

Seeing help arrive re-established your hope that Hybern wouldn’t win and it pushed you to fight that much harder but the renewed sense of vigor made you lose focus and that was your downfall. A hybern soldier came charging at you with the anger of a thousand suns and sliced your stomach in one quick motion and before you knew it you were one the ground bleeding out. 

The inner circle was checking on Cassian when an unexpected figure came walking in with your limp body in their arms. “Oh gods, y/n!’’ Mor was the first to stand up and gawk at you in Tamlins arms before the healers directed him to a place where they could properly work on you. Nothing was said as the healers started working, as the inner circles' minds were racing and as Tamlin was leaving. “Thank you” Tamlin didn’t even stop to acknowledge Rhysands form of gratitude. Azriel was the first to speak “How did we forget about her?” no one had an answer.  

Once back in Velaris with your healing underway you could tell that something was off within the group besides the obvious effects of a battle like that and a gut feeling told what it was. You could feel this sense of guilt every time you stepped foot into a room and you knew it was that they forgot about you, they never said that they did but while you were unconscious you could hear everything, and what you heard broke your heart. You were becoming an outsider in your own family. 

You watched day by day as Amren bickered with Nesta, Ryhsand flirt with Feyre and cassian with Nesta, watched as Elain and Azriel danced the line of lovers and watched as you were slowly distanced from the group but it all came to a head after a heated argument with Elain. You were sick and tired of her acting like she was helpless when she wasn’t. She was cauldron made and she needed to start acting like it or else it would get someone killed or even herself. It happened on a training day. 

The sun was beating down on your tired body and the whisper of a breeze was doing little to help and listening to Elain ask Azriel for help was driving you up a wall. “Azriel can you help me? I don’t think I'm doing this right?”  all she was doing was stretching and she needed help with it? “For fucks sake Elain do you want him to spoon feed you and wipe your ass for you while hes at it?” Everyone stopped at your outburst and stared at you. Nesta looked like she was ready to rip off your face but Azriel beat her to it “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you watched as she shifted her body to be behind his as if she knew he would fight her battles for her. “What it means Azriel” you stalked into his space until you were face to face and watched over his shoulder and Elain moved to seek comfort between her sister and the high lord and you couldn’t help but scoff at her theatrics 

 “Is that all this group ever seems to do is baby her! She is not a child, she can handle herself. She doesn’t need you to teach her how to touch her toes Azriel but heaven forbid poor sweet Elain has to do something on her own for once. I mean my gods what aren’t you willing to do for her Azriel? Correct me if I’m wrong but didn’t you give her the truth teller?” Azriel was quick to interrupt “Is that what this is seriously about?” if looks could kill he would be dead because your glare is cutting him up into pieces “I wasn’t done. You gave her your dagger, you went into a hybern camp to save her, you answer her every single beck and call as if she's not fully capable of doing things for herself. You all enable this, every single one of you!” you point to every member of the inner circle “ And I have had enough of this bullshit! Its ridiculous! Elain loves to play sweet and innocent but really she just loves having people dote on her and not having to do anything herself.”  Everyone knew you were seething for they could see the redness creeping up your neck and into your face. And apparently you pissed off Elain

 “So what if Azriel did those things for me it has nothing to do with you so mind your own business.” you knew she wasn’t as nice as she seemed. “This has everything to do with me! I used to be his best friend, me! Not you! I watched everyone change when your family came along and it ruined mine! I have been in love with Azriel since the day I met him and yet I’ve had to watch him fall for you, who he hasn’t even known for two seconds! I heard him say that they forgot about me on the battlefield after hybern! So yes this is about me, I am an outsider in my own family!” The silence was deafening after watching you fight to speak through your tears and cracking voice. No one dared to move for fear of upsetting you even more or maybe it was the weight of your words keeping them in place. Azriel went to place a hand on top of your shoulder but you were quick to step out of his reach. “Y/n I had no idea you felt that way” again you couldn’t help but scoff “Of course not because you were too busy with sweet Elain to notice anything else.” he shook his head as if in a silent no “I am so sorry that we forgot about you there is no excuse it should of never happened. I-we never knew you felt this way, felt like you were being pushed away. But y/n why didn’t you ever tell me that you had feelings for me?” something broke in Azriels heart watching you cry, watched as your face scrunched in pain while you fought back sobs from taking over your body. Something pulled him to comfort you but he knew better than that. He couldn’t, not with Elain here.

“I have been telling you for five hundred years Azriel how much more do you want me to do? I may have never flat out said it but why do you think I stayed up waiting for you to come home after missions, or why I defended you against the teasing, or why I showed you my love in a thousand different ways but you never noticed even though you are the head spy master of the night court.” a sob racked your body forcing you to stop and Azriel wanted nothing more than to hold you until the tears stopped flowing and you felt whole again something in his soul was pulling him towards you but your next words stopped him in his tracks. “I never told you because to you it seems that I have never just been good enough. I have never been enough for you.”

#acotar x reader #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel one shot #azriel fanfic #acotar imagine #acotar x you #azriel imagine #azriel angst #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger

[lisired]

die in your arms

pairing: jaehyun x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, angst, horror/thriller, explicit descriptions of violence and murder, unprotected sex, mentions of suicide, character death

summary: Every single night before bed, you play your royal husband, Jaehyun, a song on his grandfather's piano as a distraction from the ominous sounds you hear. To the public, you're all smiles, but discreetly, you're a slave to your suspicions. Though it seems the more you pry, the more secrets you start to unravel.

word count: 22.4k

a/n: spooky fic for the spooky season… or at least it was when i first posted it lol. as always, feedback is appreciated!

Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop, you chanted to yourself, running because your life depended on it. 

Your feet hurt and you had lost track of how long you had been running for, but you pushed yourself forward even as your energy from the adrenaline started to dwindle. 

Never had you needed to fight for your life before. Fight for anything. Your legs burned from ache, begging for a break while your bare feet slapped against wet dirt. Your face was damp with tears and rainwater. But you never stopped. Not even for a second. 

Not as long as he was behind you. Even after hours of running, you knew he wouldn’t stop until he had at last caught you. He could run across acres of land and never break a sweat. 

Lightning struck and you screamed, only to realize it was the shrouds of darkness looming over you. You were on edge. 

“My love,” Jaehyun sang, calling out to you from a distance. 

His voice made you shudder, but you bunched your dress into your fists, the white gown difficult to run in. You didn’t look back, though you knew that he wasn’t far. 

Pushing Jaehyun’s voice to the back of your head, you tried to find an escape route. The garden had to stretch across at least a thousand acres. There was no end in sight. You were inclined to believe you were running in circles across perfectly manicured grass and stone trails. 

Jaehyun had the upper hand. It was his palace, for heaven’s sake. He had grown up wandering around these paths and exploring halls that were carbon copies of each other. You had barely made it out of the palace, clearing corridor after corridor, though unsure if you were making any distance because of how they paralleled.

You found another stone footpath, feeling the ground harden beneath your feet where moonlight shone through the tiniest of puddles. For whatever reason, seeing your scared face in your reflection gave you chills. Your face that was once perfectly made was ruined with streaks of mascara, black. 

What should have been the happiest day of your life had quickly turned upside-down. 

When you glanced aside, what you saw nearly got another hair-raising scream out of you, but you bit your lip hard enough to make yourself bleed. 

Horror was beginning not to explain your feelings as you fought for survival, wide eyes drifting around the pond in a perfect rectangle. There were tombstones surrounding the pond, watered by rain. You could see names etched on them; your parents, Jaehyun’s parents, and some of his servants. Dead fish floated in the water. 

“No,” you cried out, kneeling aside your parents’ gravestones. You didn’t care that your dress dirtied. You lost all purpose for it the second you saw him for the monster he had been all along. 

From the beginning this had only been a perfectly crafted game where you never had a chance. You were baited like an animal and Jaehyun was somewhere watching you like a hawk in the sky, because little did you know, you would never make it out. 

He had made sure of that. 

“This is your home now,” Jaehyun exclaimed, but it was all white noise to you. You didn’t even know where he was or how far he stood from you. Your mind was racing but empty all the while. 

You knew there had to be a shed somewhere. If you were quick, maybe you could hit him over the head with a trowel or a really heavy pot. If you wanted to make it out alive, you had to escape on your own. You knew there was nobody else alive out here aside from you and Jaehyun. 

Not to mention thinking about what Jaehyun would do to you if he caught you made your blood run cold, because you simply didn’t know. He was an enigma to you now. You went from living every little girl’s dreams of becoming a princess to living a never-ending nightmare.

“Darling. There you are,” Jaehyun said, as if he hadn’t already had you trapped. 

You screamed, screamed a silent cry, unable to hear his wet footsteps over the sound of your mind racing a thousand thoughts per hour. It was over. You lost. He had caught you. 

Jaehyun swept you into his arms and crooned, “Shh, it’s alright. Everything is okay, darling.”

Every exhale was a battle. You heaved, chest undulating, and tried to regain some semblance of composure. Your eyes studied the room and you realized you were no longer in Jaehyun’s boundless garden, but in his chamber. There was no rain pouring on you. Only sweat beading at your skin, cooling at your neck. 

“It was just a nightmare,” Jaehyun whispered, voice sweet and tender as it had always been. 

You still shuddered, but you were relieved that it was only a dream. You leaned into Jaehyun’s touch, breathing in the crisp air. 

You flitted your gaze to the balcony attached to the giant chamber, blocked off by a glass door. The royal blue curtains were drawn, giving you a perfect view of the garden it overlooked. Rain fell brutally and little droplets gathered at the screen. 

Nights like this were a recurring series of events ever since you started sharing a bed with Jaehyun. You would wake in the middle of the night, damp with sweat, screaming your lungs off. Jaehyun would hold you and whisper sweet nothings in your ears, trying to calm you down. 

If you were being honest, it wasn’t Jaehyun that was giving you nightmares, in spite of the fact that the one key element they all shared was that he would be hunting you down in all of them. It was the dangerous lack of sleep you were getting. Interestingly, the monarchy had owls that kept you up at night, and when you finally fell asleep, bad dreams loomed over you. 

For whatever reason, sleep deprivation made you prone to them. You tried to remind yourself Jaehyun was a great guy and your stupid brain playing tricks on you was not a reflection of his character, but the fact that you consistently had more or less the same dream solely about him made you antsy. 

Grow up. Dreams don’t mean anything. You sound like a little girl afraid of the monsters under her bed, you hissed to yourself, chastising. The fact that it was so silly was enough to make you promptly dismiss your worries. 

For the three months you had been engaged, Jaehyun took the extra time to get to know you. It was strange, because he didn’t need to. Your marriage was a business proposal rather than the kneeling before your lover kind, and both of your parents had influence throughout the country. You had never spoken until then. 

In spite of that detail, Jaehyun treated you as if he could see himself truly loving you one day. Maybe because he wanted things to be as non-awkward as possible, given that you would be sharing the same bed at night. 

By day, Jaehyun would flaunt you in front of the media and hold you flush against him at royal events as he did throughout your betrothal. The wedding had to have been the most remarkable occasion of them all. It lasted throughout the entire day, hundreds of thousands of people present to celebrate your nuptials. 

When you married, you moved into the palace, which was precisely when the nightmares started. Because of those goddamn owls. 

Some nights later, you shot up again, having yet another nightmare. Noticing the bedside lamp was switched on, you glanced to your side, observing Jaehyun with a book in hand and spectacles sitting squarely on the bridge of his nose. “Another bad dream?”

You nodded, biting your lip. You felt bad and slightly embarrassed. Never had you and Jaehyun shared a bed until your honeymoon, so his first impression of your sleeping habits were you being prone to crying out in the middle of the night. 

Jaehyun, setting his book to the side after marking his place, opened his arms for you. You crawled into them without hesitation. Over time, they had started to feel like home. It took the edge off your homesickness. 

This is your home now. You shivered. It’s just a dream. It’s just a dream. It’s just a very bad fucking dream, you comforted yourself.

Jaehyun whispered tenderly, “Tell me what you saw.”

You swallowed and damped your throat. Though you had told him about the owls, you kept to yourself the bit about him chasing you like a serial killer. “It’s a little dark,” you told him in fair warning. 

Jaehyun didn’t seem to give a damn. “It’s only a dream. It can’t scare me. Unless a monster is going to hop out of your cute brain and yell, ‘Boo!’”

You giggled. Leave it to Jaehyun to make you laugh when you needed it most. He had come to learn your needs over those three months of bonding.

Jaehyun threw you an expectant look. “Well?”

You hesitated, but ultimately gave in. Jaehyun was your husband now, for fuck’s sake. What couldn’t you tell him? “Well, every night I have the same nightmare about… you. You’re always chasing me throughout the castle. Every time, I get close to escaping, but you catch me in the end. And then I wake up.”

“It’s not very realistic.” 

You pulled back, giving him a look. “Hm?”

“I would never chase you,” Jaehyun said. “I will always have you right where I want you.”

Your eyes flickered. It was an unsettling comment, but you tried to let it go. Jaehyun doesn’t have an evil bone in his body, you reminded yourself. He’s harmless.

Jaehyun clambered out of bed, sitting his spectacles on top of his book, and stood on two feet. When you merely watched him with interest, he beckoned you to mirror him. “Come on. I have something to show you.”

Hesitantly you obeyed him, crawling from bed and sliding on your slippers. Following him into the halls, you walked hand in hand with Jaehyun the entire time who had laced his fingers through yours comfortably. The gesture made you smile, no matter how little. 

Like in your dreams, the corridors were of length and resembled each other almost precisely. High stone walls stood tall, statues at its sides, and chandeliers glared at you from above your heads. Given it was after nightfall, the halls were dimly lit. 

One of the statues you swore you saw move and give you a mean glower. You asked curiously, “Did you ever break anything when you were a child?”

“Not that I remember. No.”

“Huh,” you retorted. “You must have been a wonderful child.”

“I stayed in my room and looked out the window,” Jaehyun muttered under his breath. 

Your eyes flickered.

Jaehyun brought you to a room at the very end of the passage but before he drew the doors open, he told you softly, “Close your eyes.”

You rolled your eyes, but did as told, giggling. Jaehyun got a hold of both of your hands and placed them over your face for safe measure. Then, he drew the doors open, pushing you inside. 

Jaehyun guided you mysteriously throughout the room and you let him without question. You knew he had switched the lights on, the corners of your vision getting brighter in spite of the dark void, and he stopped you momentarily. 

“Now, open.”

You slowly opened your eyes, squinting while you adjusted to the bright lights. Then they focused in front of you, and what you saw made you giddy with excitement. 

“Whoa,” you gasped, running a hand over the grand piano. It was royal blue, monarchical patterns thoughtfully designed over the lid. 

Jaehyun was sporting the biggest smile you had ever seen. “Do you like it?”

You bobbed your head. During your engagement, you remembered telling Jaehyun, en passant, that you had been enamored with playing pianos since you were little. “You remembered,” you said quietly, touched. 

Jaehyun’s dimples showed and it was the cutest thing ever. He spoke softly, “This was my grandfather’s piano. He hated bad weather and played it when it stormed. I know that it’s not the same, but I thought that maybe if you played the piano before bed, it would help with your nightmares.”

“That’s really thoughtful of you, Jaehyun,” you replied, heat spreading through your chest like wildfire. “Do you want me to play you a song?”

“Yes,” Jaehyun said and pulled out a chair. 

You sat on the piano bench, getting comfortable and warming up your fingers lest they cramped in the middle of your impromptu performance. For a multigenerational piano, it was still in perfect condition. 

“My mother taught me this,” you told him in preparation. 

You proceeded to play him a mind-blowing masterpiece, your eyes and hands trained to the keyboard. Jaehyun was dumbfounded that any human being could be so graceful while playing an instrument and kept himself fixed to your supple fingers. He was enamored, knowing then and there that he wanted to hear you play your sweet song forever. 

Eyes closed, everything disappeared behind the sound of the keys, and you carried yourself to a world where there was nothing but you and your piano. Where no harm could reach you. 

Me and my song. That's how you got through everything. As long as you had a piano, everything would be okay. 

When you were done, you glanced up at Jaehyun, studying him for a reaction. 

Jaehyun was all smiles. He was endlessly proud of you, clasping his hands together in applause when the performance ended. His heart was asking for an encore, and he knew you most likely wanted one yourself. He could see that you were truly at peace when you played, in a world of your own, at your happiest. 

“You’re the most talented player I've ever heard,” Jaehyun whispered sweetly. 

Heat filled your cheeks and you hid it with a roll of your eyes. “You’re only saying that because I’m your wife.”

Jaehyun took your hands in his palms again, kissing the back of your palm tenderly. “You are my talented wife, who I love very much.”

Your heart stopped. His wife. Who he loved. He loved you? You expected to be merely something he had to put up with, but Jaehyun had come to genuinely love you. To say nothing of yourself. This boy had swept you off of your feet in no time at all. 

“I love you too,” you whispered back, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt. Now that he had done such a thoughtful gesture, you loved him even more. 

Jaehyun saw the stars in your eyes and squeezed your hand. “Are you ready to go back to bed?”

“Yes,” you chirped with glee. 

Jaehyun hoisted you into his arms bridal style and you squealed in surprise, wreathing your arms around his neck while he carried you back to the bedchamber. 

You slept soundly after that. No screaming. No nightmares. 

As it turned out, his grandfather’s piano was the perfect countermeasure for your night terrors. You were dumbfounded that you actually managed to sleep through the whole night, well rested for the formal dinners and publicity appearances that came with being royalty.

For each of them, you clung flush to Jaehyun’s side, radiant. You didn’t speak unless spoken to. It was no question why you of all the women from a handpicked list were selected to become his wife. You had been cautiously groomed for the role, the pretty and obedient little thing meant to stand by the prince's side and carry his children. Especially his son.

Maybe it seemed demeaning, though you had no intention of making waves in the monarchy. You kept in step, rather than marched to the beat of your own drum. You were more than content to silently bathe in their luxuries and confide in your husband.

But it did get lonely.

One lazy afternoon, just after lunch, the king approached you and Jaehyun as the two of you were shooting the breeze in The Great Chamber. You noticed his father first and greeted him respectfully, “Good afternoon, Your Majesty.”

Jaehyun opted for a polite bow. 

The king motioned his head. “Good afternoon. I am only here to announce your mother-in-law and I’s departure. We will be traveling abroad on business for a couple of weeks. Your mother-in-law is already with an escort waiting outside the exit hall.”

That baffled Jaehyun. “Why the abrupt exit?”

“We have some affairs to attend to that couldn’t wait and we owe the prime minister a favor. We will return as briefly as possible.”

Jaehyun nodded. “Travel safely.”

“Of course. And son, the country is yours in our absence,” said the king. Then, he locked eyes with you. “Yours as well.”

You were stunned for a couple of seconds, but masked it well and replied demurely, “Yes, sir.”

The king bid each of you farewell individually then scurried to the exit hall with his wife to be chauffeured to their private charter. 

Jaehyun met your eyes with a mischievous smile and said when his parents were out of earshot, “Appears it’s just the two of us.”

“Mm-hm,” you hummed, amused by the amount of sheer mischief in his stare. “Just me, you, and the hundred other people that live in this palace.”

Jaehyun chuckled, lifted your wrist, and pressed a sweet kiss to the back of your hand. “What if I sent everybody home? You heard my father. I’m in charge.”

“I also very clearly heard him mention that I’m in charge too. And I don’t think that’s a very good idea. Who’s going to make the spoiled prince’s every meal three times a day, everyday?” 

“Fair point,” Jaehyun mumbled. “Do you really think that I’m spoiled?”

You replied without skipping a beat, “Rotten.”

“What a shame,” Jaehyun said. “Would it also be a shame if you came upstairs to spoil me some more?”

“Only if you didn’t spoil me back,” you replied tamely, but Jaehyun could see the unbridled lust in your eyes. It never lied to him. 

You two scurried through the halls like a pair of hormonal teenagers, staggering towards the elevator with dwindling patience and giggling the entire ride upstairs. 

When you came to bed that night after spending an undocumented amount of time playing Jaehyun the piano in what was once his grandfather’s bedchamber, he threw his big arms around your waist and drifted off to the view of your backside. 

But when you abruptly woke, he was nowhere to be found.

You sat up in a panic. He’s just using the bathroom. Yeah, that sounds about right, you consoled yourself. The clock stared back at you on the wall, and noting the time, you decided you would wait for him to return. 

Jaehyun never returned to his bedroom. You watched hours tick away at their own pace, but there was no sign of him. And in lieu of your husband’s soft snores, you only heard those familiar owls, feet dragging down the hall, and impatient ticking. 

Which was completely unnerving.

You didn’t get any sleep that night. Not until Jaehyun at last came back and worriedly asked why you looked as if you had just finished a twelve-hour shift in the dungeon. 

Choosing to ignore him, you snarled, “Where were you?”

Jaehyun’s eyes flickered. “Well, I was in the study. I had some late night affairs to attend to.”

“The king and queen are absent. Our royal activities have been suspended. There is nothing you could possibly need to take care of at four in the morning,” you pressed, arms folded. 

“Most of our royal activities have been temporarily suspended,” Jaehyun corrected with a swiftness. “Why do you think my father left us in control? The country never sleeps.”

You sulked, especially grumpy from the lack of sleep. 

Jaehyun watched you with surprise. Your grouchy, irritable attitude graveled him, because he couldn’t comprehend what he had done that was so wrong. “What’s gotten into you?”

You exhaled loudly. Maybe you were overreacting a little. Jaehyun did make a valid point, after all. Somebody still needed to nurse the country in the king and queen’s absence. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m being unreasonable,” you replied, unable to justify your cynicism. 

Not to mention you couldn’t think of a single other thing that Jaehyun could have been doing so early in the morning. It was a completely plausible excuse, whether you believed it or not. And it wasn’t as if Jaehyun had ever given you a reason to doubt him. 

But the feet dragging through the halls was the second most eerie sound you had ever heard, just after those evil owls that reminded you too much of gargoyles. You chalked it up to some staff members keeping guard on a late shift and gave it up. 

Jaehyun pried your stubborn hand away from your crossed arms and you let him. His touch was exactly what you needed to soothe your unease. “You look tired,” he commented. “Have you been sleeping?”

“No, I was waiting for you to come back,” you grumbled gruffly and stifled a yawn out of habit. It was unladylike, they said.

Jaehyun chuckled in amusement, but scolded, “You shouldn’t wait up for me. I’m a busy man and a princess needs her beauty sleep.”

“Maybe I feel safe when you’re next to me,” you mumbled under your breath, eyes fixed to his thumb rubbing circles at your wrist. 

“I’m never far from you, baby,” Jaehyun reassured you gently. “I’m always two steps behind you.”

“Behind me or ahead of me?”

“I’m omnipresent,” Jaehyun whispered and kissed your cheek sweetly. “You can play the piano. I can sing. Would you like for me to sing you a song?”

“Yes,” you replied without stopping to mull it over. 

Jaehyun told you to lie back down and you obeyed without a second thought, slipping under the blankets. You felt even warmer when he snaked his arms back around you and started to croon softly in your ears, voice tickling your neck and ultimately lulling you back to slumber. 

Whether or not he got back up after that was entirely unbeknownst to you. 

You slept so peacefully in Jaehyun’s embrace that you didn’t even rouse until afternoon, well after Jaehyun had slipped from bed and told you good morning, whispering something in your ear about how he had duties to attend to.

You, on the other hand, were cleared of any scheduling. Which gave you ample time to explore the gardens. 

Now sporting a pretty knee-length dress, you had some tea and toast as a makeshift breakfast and scuttled outside in quick, short strides. The grandiose garden was easily your favorite spot in the whole palace. You could get lost in its labyrinth of superbly pruned shrubs and terraces decked in flower petals. 

For lack of a better word, it was a humbling experience. It made you feel small to be isolated in such a huge garden. You may have been a princess, next in succession to the queen’s throne, but you were also just some girl in a world larger than you would ever know. 

You could prance around and gawk at pretty flowers day in and day out. It didn’t take much to keep you happy. But you rather liked company. 

When you noticed one of the gardeners you recognized tending to some blossoms, you chirped, “Hi, Giselle.”

Giselle greeted you very respectfully, curtsying at your presence. “Greetings, Your Royal Highness.”

“Oh, please,” you said, almost rolling your eyes. “You can call me by my name.”

“The king and queen wouldn’t approve of the informalities, ma’am.”

You didn’t really give a damn and waved her off, replying nonchalantly, “While that is true, the king and queen are not here, and it’s only the two of us in this garden. When we are alone, you may call me by my name and I will call you by yours.”

“If you insist,” Giselle replied, followed by your name. 

You smiled triumphantly. 

From your previous encounters and run-ins, you had already gathered that Giselle unfortunately wasn’t very much of a talker, though you couldn’t fault her. She did what she was told and minded the business that paid her. Literally. It would do her no good to kindle conflict in the monarchy. 

“These flowers are pretty,” you remarked absentmindedly. 

Giselle hummed. “They’re azaleas.”

“Elegance, temperance, and death,” you said knowledgeably, staring from the terrace. 

Which surprised Giselle. “Are you into flower symbolism?”

You shrugged. “I know a thing or two.”

“Hm.”

You pointed to some other flowers. They were very recognizable to you at this point. “Those are white roses. Purity, innocence, loyalty, and fresh beginnings. It’s no secret why they were scattered all over my wedding.”

“Secrecy and silence,” Giselle added offhandedly.

For a couple of seconds, that, metaphorically speaking, threw you off balance. “That too,” you said quietly.

Giselle said nothing. 

You considered making peace with the silence, but with your thoughts at daggers drawn with one another, you quickly accepted that wouldn’t be possible. Secrecy and silence. There was no doubt it suited the monarchs aptly. Sometimes you even wondered what you knew about Jaehyun, because he was ghastly private.

Maybe you weren’t the closest of married couples, but you knew enough. Jaehyun liked music and singing. He was introverted and quite shy, which was laughable when considering that he was soon to become king. He was calm and sensitive. Sensual, but reticent. 

Jaehyun already made clear he loved you. Maybe with time, he would show you his heart. 

Then, you had another thought. Secret, but not so much silent. “Hey, Giselle,” you called out. “Do you ever hear strange noises in the palace?”

“I don’t know what you mean. Everything is normal in the royal palace.”

You frowned. It hit you that you never asked Jaehyun if they bothered him. It was possible that growing up in the castle had numbed him. “I hear owls at night.” 

“That is because there are owls and they are nocturnal. We haven’t tried to get rid of them because they are helpful with the garden,” was all Giselle said. 

“Well, sure,” you mumbled, because it was an entirely logical explanation. “But what about the noises I hear in the hallway?”

“Some employees take late shifts to keep guard of the palace. They are merely monitoring the halls.”

That was what you told yourself, because it was completely reasonable. But something about this place gave you a bad gut feeling and left a bitter taste in your mouth. You couldn’t explain it, because it was just a hunch. 

“In all due respect, what you hear is elementary. Word of advice? Believe what I tell you now or get two hours of sleep at night later.”

You recoiled in surprise. “Excuse me?” 

Giselle turned around, glanced around for any watchful eyes, and made eye contact with you. She stepped onto the terrace and whispered, “I hear scratches in the walls and cries in the floorboards. You can rationalize footsteps in the hallway, but whimpers in the chamber? Not so easy. Convince yourself that it’s nothing while you still can.”

“If I have to convince myself that it’s nothing then that means there’s something,” you shot back, looking her plain in the eye. Which also meant there was something she wasn’t telling you. “What are you hiding?” 

Giselle wavered, hesitant. She wore it on her face. Her body language was screaming at you and you desperately wanted to know what it was saying. “You’re royalty,” she finally said after a moment. “You have lived lavishly your whole life without ever needing to worry about a thing. Maybe I envy what you have, but I’m not telling you this from a black heart when I say my woes are not yours.”

You didn’t bristle, but softened. She was opening up to you, and you knew there was more to this tangent of hers. 

“I come from a poor background and work here to provide for my household,” she said tamely, harboring no resentment whatsoever. She wasn’t the least bit vindictive. “Because of that, I can’t afford to poke my nose where it doesn’t belong. Even if it keeps me up at night.”

“The noises,” you said. “They keep you up at night?”

“Because of that piano,” Giselle grumbled under her breath. 

“What?”

Giselle pivoted and walked back to the plants, dismissing your concern. “I’ve already said too much. Please, mention this to nobody. But if you must, leave my name out.”

You nodded. “Off the record.”

Giselle smiled thinly. 

Backpedaling, you pointed to another shrubbery of flowers. “What are those?”

“Hydrangeas. They might seem high maintenance, but they are fairly easy to take care of. The queen loves them, so I give them some extra attention,” Giselle told you while hoisting a watering pot. 

You hummed. “Blue flowers.”

“Desire, love, and infinity,” Giselle sighed poignantly. 

For half an hour, you volunteered to help Giselle with her gardening duties before she shooed you away, claiming you had done enough of her responsibilities. You wandered in the garden still, lingering, just outside of Jaehyun’s bedchamber window.

When you glanced up, you saw him watching you fondly through the balcony screen, and waved him down with a beaming smile.

Jaehyun was downstairs in a flash, sporting chinos and a casual blazer. He looked very handsome, which was nothing new for him. Plus with his pretty brown eyes and adorable dimples that were both impossible to not get lost in, you had to will yourself not to swoon.

“Hi,” you greeted. 

“Hi,” Jaehyun replied, mirroring you. Except he leaned in to snake his arms just below your ribs and kissed the corner of your mouth. 

You smiled at his affections, though they had disarmed you a long time ago. His ability to unsettle you when he was gone but soothe you when he touched you was to be studied. “How has your day been so far?”

Jaehyun groaned. “Next subject.”

That got a chuckle out of you. Being the ruler of a country was no easy feat, but if there was anybody fitted for the role, it was Jaehyun. “Hopefully your parents haven’t left you with too much trouble.”

Jaehyun shrugged his shoulders. “I want to relax. You look like you’re having fun.”

“Something like that.” 

You decided against confiding in him about the reality of your day thus far. Not because you didn’t trust him, but because you weren’t sure of anything yourself. Giselle had mentioned something about the piano he had gifted you. Jaehyun might have been your best bet at knowing what she meant, but you needed to do a little more investigating before you got him involved. 

Now that you had another person’s opinion, you could say with total confidence that you weren’t crazy. There was something spooky going on in the monarchy and you wanted to know what. 

For now, you would shove the thought to a corner in the back of your mind. Days at the palace were full of whimsical fun. The nights were terrifying. 

Speaking of whimsical fun, Jaehyun spoke up and asked, “Do you want to ride the ferry with me?”

That caught your attention. “Ferry?”

“Yeah. There’s a huge lake down this path and we have a mini ferry that travels from one end to the other. You interested?”

“Sign me up,” you exclaimed enthusiastically. 

Getting a hold of your hand, Jaehyun walked you through the courtyard to the wooden dock at the top of the lake. Unsurprisingly, it had a decorated roofed patio with a lounging nook to wait for the vessel to return.

Fortunately for you, it was already waiting at the dock, unoccupied save for the captain Jaehyun had called up during your relaxed walk to the boating site. 

Jaehyun helped you aboard, having done this more times than he cared to admit. When you were safely secured on the tiny ferry, you thanked him for being a gentleman and watched him climb aboard himself. 

The captain exited the wheelhouse. “Once to and from, Your Royal Highness?”

“Make it twice. We have time to waste,” said Jaehyun, looking at you with all the affections a man could possess. 

Shortly afterwards, you started moving. You stood beside Jaehyun and gripped the railing, watching the water splash beneath the boat. This place was beautiful, no doubt. Your choice to get married in the garden was unregretted. 

Eerily beautiful, you thought. Though you loved the garden, there were a couple of places you avoided. Mainly the ones that made appearances in your nightmares, like the shed. 

The silence was comfortable, both you and Jaehyun soaking in the view, but you broke it to say, “You’re an only child.”

“I guess you could say that.”

You gave him a look. “What do you mean?” 

Jaehyun shook his head, dismissive. “Nothing. Keep talking.”

You were curious, wanting to know all there was on this boy, but let it go for his sake. “Doesn’t it get lonely - alone in this big palace? Your parents are busy nurturing the country like it’s their own child.”

Jaehyun didn’t show a single fucking emotion on his face, though that was far from shocking by now. When it was time to get personal, he became the iciest man you knew. His cold indifference somehow burned you.

You grimaced when you saw his face. “Sorry if I crossed a line.”

“No, it’s okay,” Jaehyun replied, giving you a reassuring kiss to the cheek. “I was lonely before I met you. No siblings. Few people I could trust. When I was young, I learned rather quickly that life is a game of survival. You can never be too sure who’s friend or foe.”

You listened attentively, nestling closer to his chest. 

“I was taught to be my own guard, in a way. And there’s nobody to blame but myself for chasing away everybody who tries to get close. But then you came,” Jaehyun said, smiling at you adoringly. “And there was an instant connection. I think I saw pieces of myself inside of you.”

“You did?”

Jaehyun bobbed his head. “Yeah. Some people see this meek, demure princess, but I see the woman that almost cooked my ass when I wasn’t tucked into bed with her,” he joked, getting a laugh out of you. 

You giggled. 

Jaehyun was smiling like an idiot. It was cute and wholesome. “On a serious note, I see somebody strong and assertive. Somebody who’s not afraid to fight for what they want, even if it means going through hell and back. Somebody unbroken and undeterred.”

“Mm-hm. And you liked that,” you hummed, giving him a hooded stare. 

“You have no idea,” Jaehyun purred before leaning in to smash his lips against yours.

You giggled into his mouth. Your heart skipped a beat or two when Jaehyun kissed you, tempted to leap into the palm of his hands where she belonged. The Jaehyun you had come to know was a romantic and there was nothing more romantic than making out with your lover on a beautiful ferry ride. 

Except for making love with your lover below a beautiful ferry ride. 

“Below deck,” Jaehyun murmured in your ear, delicately slipping his hands from your waist to lace his fingers through yours. You didn’t hesitate to follow him through the little hall, coming out in a bedroom at its very end. 

You hardly even got to stand long enough to take note of your surroundings before Jaehyun hoisted you up and threw you against the silk sheets. You cried out in shock. Jaehyun had taken you more times than you bothered to count, but you were in awe at how rough the prince got when it came to sex.

When Jaehyun crept over you, staring at you with a blend of awe and unbridled lust in those pretty brown eyes of his, you combed your fingers through his dark hair and drew his mouth to yours again. 

You could hear your heart thudding in your ears as you kissed him slowly. Your lips only knew each other and you could taste the ecstasy on the tip of your tongue. To say nothing of the touches. While you were fisting his hair, Jaehyun stripped you naked, tossing your dress and groping your perfect breasts. 

Jaehyun was warm to the touch, but his fingers never failed to make you shiver. “I love the way your lips feel,” you confessed when he separated from your mouth. 

Only to kiss his way down your stomach, lips gentle and tender. Jaehyun cocked you a glance and grinned. “And what about my dick?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions. I love your dick, duh, but that’s a different conversation deserving of its own speech. Particularly a long-winded one with a very heartfelt peroration at the climax.”

Jaehyun’s head bobbed as he snickered at the thought, before teasing, “Well, we have the Great Chamber for that when you’re ready. Feel free.”

Your laughter rang out in the little bedroom. Then, Jaehyun switched on a dime, dragging your legs towards the edge of the bed before spreading them apart like jelly and burying his face between your thighs. 

Every time Jaehyun took you to bed, you remembered the first night of your honeymoon. When he took you to a cabin in the woods in April’s spring, flipped you over, and made you cry for all the forest to hear. By day, you watched nature and waltzed to his many vinyls, and by night, you made love for hours. 

And to think that was only a month ago. You felt as if you’d loved Jaehyun for years.

Jaehyun ate you out until you came undone at the mercy of his brutal tongue, clamping his palms at your thighs while you convulsed and shuddered, and undulated. Fuck, he knew your body too well. You arched off the bed one final time then slumped down, defeated.

You gawked in disbelief while he watched you scramble for breath with a cocked brow. Your body’s capacity for pleasure knew no bounds when Jaehyun was the one pleasing you. “Ready to take my cock?” he asked, excitement nipping sharply in his chest at the thought of ruining you.

You nodded your head almost instantly. Your lack of patience was written all over you and you wanted him. Right now.

Jaehyun’s hands were quick to reach for his cock, steering himself skillfully to bury himself inside of your pussy. A wet sound filled the air when he sank inside and you instantly moaned his name as though it was an instinct. 

You drove Jaehyun mad when you called out his name like that; with pining and desperation, and everything in between. Heaven had brought you to him and fate would keep you by his side until the very end. 

“Jay,” came your airy voice. Just being filled with your husband’s cock made you feel like you were elevating, ascending into the air. 

Your sounds were euphoric and drove Jaehyun to the very brink of madness, and with the last of his restraint gone, he was impelled to move at long last, thrusting into you at a leisurely yet hard pace. He lowered his face to meet yours, lips locked in a wet smack. You were skin to skin, your stiff nipples pressed against his bare chest. 

Every moment was as special as the first. As a woman groomed to become a figure of importance, you were raised to remain chaste until marriage. And the day you exchanged vows with Jaehyun, he made your whole body shudder. 

“God is a woman,” Jaehyun rasped, heart racing so quickly it might have burst. You were warm all over and his hands roamed every nook of your body, every curve. 

Even though you wanted to laugh, all that came from your mouth was a breathless moan. Moments like these where you knew nothing but Jaehyun, scooped into his strong arms, you couldn’t help but realize how lucky you were. Not a second went by where you took him for granted.

Things could’ve been different. Jaehyun could have been an insufferable spoiled prick that acted entitled to his wife, but he was far from the visions of him you saw in your nightmares. You were grateful to be married to a man that both respected you and valued your happiness. 

You locked your legs around him, pulling him into you deeper, and kissed him until the two of you were gasping for air. “You get me so wet, Jay,” you whispered, tangling your fingers through his head.

At those words, Jaehyun released an animalistic growl, so aroused you thought he might break. His thoughts revolved solely around you. How much like poison you were. How outrageously perfect you were. Head to toe. 

You beamed with pride, pleased to have such a dangerous effect on your husband. The two of you meeting each other was mutually assured destruction. Nothing had been the same since Jaehyun laid eyes on you. When he saw you for the first time, he knew that he had to have you. 

While your body rocked from the sheer force of Jaehyun’s thrusts, the boat gently thrashed in the water. Your breasts bounced and the sight had made Jaehyun lose what was left of his mind. One day, in the none too distant future, they would be swollen with milk and Jaehyun imagined you carrying his children. 

That thought alone could have finished him. He thought of it every time he fucked you full of cum, pumping his load inside of you rough and deep, just the way you begged for him to. Watching your belly swell with your shared child would do unspeakable things to Jaehyun’s psyche. 

Part of you drowned out the sounds of the water splattering against the boat in favor of listening to Jaehyun’s relentless groans. Your husband always had a flair for the romantic. Hopelessly, he used to think, until he met you. 

Staring up at Jaehyun, you were bewitched by the gentle gracefulness of his features, especially as they tensed with unbridled pleasure. “Can I tell you something?” you asked. 

Jaehyun nodded his head. “Anything,” he whispered. 

“You smell so good.”

Jaehyun’s laughter rang out in your ears. The sight and sound brought a smile to your face. You didn’t know anyone with a more perfect laugh and you would give anything to see it again. “That’s so random.”

“But true,” you added, inhaling his scent the closer he got to your naked chest. There was hardly any space between you two at all. 

Jaehyun was all smiling from ear to ear. “Can I tell you something?”

“Always.”

Jaehyun leaned into your ear, deepening his voice to a breathtaking whisper, “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

Your heart stopped. There was something about his voice tickling your earlobe that made you gush and tighten around his cock. After searching for the ability to speak, you replied, “Funny. I feel the same way about you.”

Jaehyun chuckled deeply and you swore you became lightheaded. “Yeah?”

“Can I tell you one more thing?”

“Go for it.”

“I’m about to cum,” you told him, climax threatening to rip you apart. 

“I’m gonna make you cum,” Jaehyun said, voice dark with determination. You gasped when his fingers sank to your clit and his thumb teased your bundle of nerves. 

Heat swallowed you whole. You couldn’t process all of the sensations that your body was experiencing all at once. A scream came out of your mouth and Jaehyun stifled them with his palm as you trembled with orgasm, cursing the stars. 

Jaehyun didn’t stop fucking until he was certain that you couldn’t take anymore. You went round after round, fisting the sticky sheets, grateful that he chose to take two trips across the lake. You had time to kill. 

Your body was worn and utterly spent when Jaehyun was finished with you. You fell slack against the sheets, unable to move your stiff limbs. Given that Jaehyun was left with more than a handful of responsibilities, it should’ve come to you as no shock that he took his stress out on you.

And you were more than eager to let him. When Jaehyun made love to you, the power he wielded over you was endless. Your body was seized by him and your heart was his on a platter. 

“I love you,” Jaehyun whispered deeply in your ear. It was enough to drive any woman mad. You were too breathless to say anything back, chest undulating. 

For a couple of moments neither of you could hardly move and you stayed nestled into each other’s side till you regained the strength to hunt for your tossed clothes. Flush against Jaehyun’s skin, the sexual tension still lingered, and he was overwhelmingly aware of how naked you were. 

After quickly redressing yourselves, you just sat on the bed for a little longer, feeling the boat still sway and knowing you weren’t back home. Jaehyun’s hand was flat against your backside, never letting you forget that he was at your side. 

You tried to fend off some wandering thoughts, but your curiosity got the better of you and you surrendered to your need to know. “Jaehyun, I have something to tell you.”

Your tone was not lost on him. “It sounds serious.”

“Yeah, kind of,” you replied, swallowing the taste in your throat that made you nauseous. “It’s about my dreams. It’s not just the owl noises. I think there’s something else going on.”

Jaehyun’s brows were furrowed. “Like what?”

There was a lump in your throat. After you confided in him about your doubts and suspicions, there was no going back. “Like the piano,” you said, unsure of yourself. 

Jaehyun’s demeanor shifted suddenly, aggressively. He went from cool and collected to stern on a dime, chastising, “Stop looking.”

His tone affronted you. “Excuse me?”

“It’s for your own safety. You need not to worry your pretty little head.”

Narrowing your eyes, you pressed, “So there is something going on that you’re not telling me.”

Jaehyun exhaled a heavy breath, smoothing a hand through his hair. “Promise me you’ll stop prying. This is serious. I will tell you everything that you need to know when it’s time.”

“Jaehyun, you know I can’t promise that,” you whispered. 

“Please,” Jaehyun said, eyes glistening. 

God, he was begging you? It had to have been serious. You couldn’t fathom him pleading for you not to investigate otherwise. But rather than discourage you, it only intensified your will to get to the bottom of the matter. 

Massaging your temple, you sighed, “Okay. Pinky promise.”

You giggled when Jaehyun interlocked his pinky finger with yours, but you weren’t certain how long you would be capable of keeping that promise. 

Soon after your confession, the captain signaled that the boat had returned to the dock. Jaehyun led you back through the narrow hallway with your hand in his, as if nothing had happened. 

The sex. The little divulgence that followed. He’s way too naturally gifted at slipping back into this royal character, you realized. In a way, you already knew that. Jaehyun could fuck the daylights out of you then smile and wave at the media as if he was their innocent successor to the throne.

Though this was different. Jaehyun obviously had no intention of letting you know exactly what he was hiding any time soon. And if he thought you would just sit around and wait for answers, he had severely underestimated you just like every other man in this country. 

Something unforgivably dark and sinister was happening. That was undeniable. You just needed to find out what.

Hours came and went, as did people. Jaehyun was right, you supposed. The country never slept. The palace alone was bustling with life at all times. 

Which made you think. If both you and Giselle were apprehensive of the obvious skeletons the monarchy had in its closet, there was no way you were alone. Somebody else had to know something. Somebody with just as much to lose. 

You just had to play your cards right. Giselle didn’t lie when she said that she had a lot more at stake than you. Even if the royal family abandoned you for whatever reason, you had the safety net of your own wealthy family to fall back on. Not everybody was as fortunate. 

When the sun set below the horizon, Jaehyun accompanied you to his grandfather’s bedchamber, though only because you didn’t want him to grow suspicious. The piano was the only way to bulldoze your ceaseless thoughts. You were lost in your own head. 

“I love you, Jaehyun,” you told him out of nowhere.

Jaehyun looked pleasantly surprised. It wasn’t often you confessed your affections. “Where’s this coming from?”

Your mind wandered back to earlier. Though you weren’t happy about him brushing off your concerns, your heart couldn’t deny the way it thumped for him. “I never said it back. And you didn’t make me.”

“Because I already know.”

You blew out a breath. Your heart told you not to risk losing his trust, but your mind was screaming that he was keeping something from you. Days ago, you would’ve been more than content with submissively obeying your husband’s commands. 

But peace had never been an option. 

It wasn’t long before you crept into bed with each other. You slept peacefully and uninterrupted by any nightmares. Again. 

Breakfast was spent together as always. Now that his parents had left the two of you in charge, it was often the only time you had available in the mornings to share. 

Any other morning, you would complain, but you were waiting with bated breath for the opportunity to get away and sneak around like a thief in the night. You weren’t keen on lying to Jaehyun, but he would just have to understand the rationale. You couldn’t keep living antsily. 

You spread some butter on your toast and asked, “Would you like to visit the markets with me this afternoon?”

Jaehyun frowned. Had he not been so busy, he would’ve done whatever you wanted. You wondered why your schedule was so clear, because when Jaehyun was preoccupied, half the time so were you. “I would love to, but the committee needs my opinion on some political stuff.”

Your tone was disappointed, “Political stuff?” 

Jaehyun nodded. He seemed to have fallen for it somehow. “I won’t bore you with the details.”

“Well, I won’t keep you, then,” you said, taking a sip of steaming hot coffee. Jaehyun had made it for you just the way he knew that you liked it. 

“Are you trying to get rid of me? I’m not expected to be present for another fifteen minutes.” Jaehyun’s tone was light, but the accusation made your heart beat faster.

Donning your most innocent voice, you assured him, “Of course not. I just know how much you like to be punctual.”

“That is true,” Jaehyun muttered. 

Ironically, the hours seemed to drag on, because you couldn’t wait for Jaehyun to leave for once. The second he was finally far out of your vicinity you discarded your leftovers and prepared yourself for the grueling task ahead of you. 

Only when you emerged from the dining hall and set out on your little exploit did it occur to you that you didn’t have even the slightest clue who to ask. A couple of servants had been around quite longer than others, yet they were dreadfully tight-lipped. But for good reason. 

Bumping into a younger one, you exclaimed, “Oh, good heavens! Pardon me, Mr. Kim.”

Jungwoo bowed gracefully and replied, “No, I apologize, Your Highness. I’ll pay closer attention.”

“It’s fine. I’ve been out of it since I got out of bed with Jaehyun,” you confessed, flashing a courteous smile. 

To your surprise, Jungwoo threw you a baffled glance. “You share a bed with the prince?”

“Yes, he is my husband. Is that odd?”

“I’m surprised. It goes against tradition. The king and queen have always had separate bedrooms,” Jungwoo told you, scratching the back of his neck. 

That was news. Though given how secretive these people were, everything was news to you. “I didn’t know that.”

Jungwoo rifled through his pockets for a spare key, pressing it into a lock on a nearby door as he rambled, “I wouldn’t either, but my dad worked here. And my granddad. With their debts, they passed down useless knowledge.”

Your interest was quickly piqued. Maybe you didn’t need to take your chances with an older worker after all. Jungwoo, way more affable and approachable, bore the knowledge of generations. “No knowledge is useless.”

“Yeah, maybe, but it’s not exactly power,” Jungwoo said, grabbing some items out of a utility closet.

“What do you mean?”

You watched Jungwoo shut the door and promptly lock it behind himself. “There are some things it’s better you don’t know, ma’am.”

“I’m sick of other people telling me what’s best for me,” you grumbled irritably. “I already know about the piano. Well, kind of.”

Jungwoo’s entire attitude flipped on a dime. Glancing across the hallway twice as if he was preparing to cross a road, he dropped his items on a cart and spoke softly, “Follow me.”

Obviously, you were confused, but you didn’t dare disobey. This might’ve been your only chance at getting closer to the truth.

Jungwoo led you to a door hidden behind the stairway with a big sign warding off intruders, though it was locked, as to be expected. This family apparently couldn’t afford to take any chances. With what, you had no clue. 

Strangely enough, Jungwoo had a key and wheeled his cart inside of the room after it clicked open. You curiously trailed behind him once he locked it behind you, wanting to know all there was to learn about this place.

There was a chain to your right and Jungwoo tugged on it, watching the lights barely flicker on. It was dim and empty, and though it was a test of your willpower, you fought off your nerves and remained unbroken. 

Narrowing into a hallway, the entrance seemed to go on for a hundred miles and a half. Your footsteps bounced off every wall and the sound made you nervous. Of course, Jungwoo would never in his life knowingly lead you astray and you chose to have faith in the belief that he’d never bring you straight to danger. 

But it made you wonder. If you recalled correctly, Giselle mentioned something about scratching in the walls. Your understanding of architecture was limited, but this place had to be built in between other parts of the castle. 

Weird, you whispered to yourself, rubbing your arms. It seemed that the deeper you went down this hallway, the colder the air got. 

“Watch your step. It’s creaky,” Jungwoo warned, leaving his cart in the hall. You glanced around him to see what he was talking about and that was when you noticed another set of stairs.

You shook your head and cursed, “Pardon my language, but Jesus Christ - how deep does this shit go?”

Jungwoo chuckled. “Too deep, ma’am.”

You had no strength to tell him to drop the titles. This was a few conversations far from your first encounter with Jungwoo and he respectfully declined each of your suggestions for him to call you by your name. 

The floorboards did indeed creak as you stepped down them and the sound couldn’t have been any more unnerving. You appreciated Jungwoo dutifully walking in front of you as if he was defending you with his life. Not that there was anything down here to jump out and get you. 

You hoped. 

Whatever disaster of a room that you just walked inside of was far from what you expected this staircase to lead to, though you weren’t too sure. At the end of the seemingly never-ending hallway was nothing but a pile of junk. If you were being frank, it looked like a bunch of hungry wild animals had a field day. Things had been tossed. Almost as if a fight of some kind had unraveled here. 

It was a hot mess. The place looked a solid minute away from crumbling in on itself, and that was you being generous. Your arm hairs were standing at attention now. You took one good look at the barrels just shy of you, noted the temperature, and pieced together why. 

“It’s… a cellar,” you said, noticeably disappointed. 

“It was a cellar,” Jungwoo told you, glancing around and wrinkling his nose. “This room hasn’t been used for at least a decade.”

Voice dripping with sarcasm, you deadpanned, “You don’t say.”

“Oh, I say.”

Your lips parted and the room echoed with your laughter. You were very grateful that Jungwoo made you laugh, because it helped you forget how anxious everything about your surroundings made you. “Why?”

Jungwoo outwardly processed every emotion and confusion was the most expressive of the plenty. “Pardon?”

“Why did you bring me here?”

Jungwoo stepped forward, inspecting the walls as if he was checking for damages. And there were many. “Because I have something to tell you that I can tell nobody,” Jungwoo said, his usually chipper tone borderline stern. “But first I need you to tell me what you know.”

Those weren’t exactly inviting words, but it was Jungwoo. You could trust him. Or maybe you wanted to, at least, but you couldn’t even trust Jaehyun. You confessed, “Assuming you mean the piano, it’s nothing much. But I know it’s connected. To the sounds I hear at night, I mean.”

“Oh, the walking. And the whispers,” Jungwoo said like it was the most normal thing in the world. 

You shook your head in disappointment. You weren’t fucking crazy and Jaehyun’s family wasn’t going to trick you into thinking that you were. “I knew I wasn’t the only one.”

Jungwoo’s tone was only slightly accusatory, “Jaehyun doesn’t know that you’re investigating.”

You frowned. He was a little too good at this. “You didn’t phrase that like a question.”

“There’s no way that he would let you get this close.”

“It’s been justified,” you huffed, irritated. All this secrecy and suspense was killing you. You just wanted to get to the heart of… whatever.  

Skeptical, Jungwoo’s head was tilted. His loyalty was in you, but also the heir. “Has it?”

You donned your most assertive voice and reasoned, “Jaehyun is obviously keeping something from me. Things that keep me up at night for hours. I refuse to continue my life in such a manner. It’s an eye for an eye.”

Jungwoo listened to your rant and agreed that your actions were justified. Thus he would be keeping this between the two of you. With a nod, Jungwoo replied, “Okay, I understand.”

You nodded. “Good.”

“But I also understand the prince.”

Your eyes darted to Jungwoo. 

Before you could part your lips to speak, Jungwoo added, “Because once you know the truth, it spreads and festers like a wildfire. If you let it, it can consume you. That’s why I hate that you know this.”

“I don’t know anything,” you grumbled. 

“Jaehyun’s grandfather used to own that piano in his bedchamber,” Jungwoo started, passing down what only moments ago he thought was useless info. 

“Yes, I know. Jaehyun told me.”

“Yeah, well, his grandfather was extremely territorial with the piano,” Jungwoo said hesitantly. “If there was a problem, he cleaned it himself. Mended it himself.”

You were yet to understand what that had to do with anything. “Sounds like he just didn’t want anybody touching his stuff.”

“That’s what my dad thought, but apparently anybody who touched it either died mysteriously or disappeared without a trace soon after.”

Your expression shifted from confused to painfully perplexed. “That’s foolish.”

“I told you that my father worked here. He thought it was rubbish. Then, one day after leaving to clean that very bedchamber, he never came back home,” Jungwoo said, willing himself to keep it together. After so many years, grief was a nonfactor. Despair was channeled into anger.

“Jungwoo…,” you trailed, choosing your words carefully. You knew what it was like to lose somebody. “Are you sure?”

Jungwoo’s eyes were sharper than you had ever seen them. You never knew such an easy-going guy was harboring so much pain. “I’ve been told that because I’m grieving a loss, I’ll believe anything for closure. I don’t agree. There’s something fishy going on and unlike the others, I’m not afraid to admit it to myself.”

“This is a lot,” you told him. 

Jungwoo nodded, wholly aware. “True, but it doesn’t stop there. Did you know that Jaehyun had an older brother?”

Your shoulders stiffened, because you recalled mentioning that Jaehyun was an only child yesterday, and he became deflective. “No, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, four years older. Apparently, he died after falling out of a window.”

You grimaced. “He commited suicide?”

“So the story goes,” Jungwoo answered, but his tone said loud and clear that he didn’t buy it for one goddamn minute. “And get this - he fell from the window of his grandfather’s bedchamber.”

Scratching the back of your head, you asked skeptically, “How come the public didn’t know about the first-born son?”

Jungwoo snorted. “I had a feeling that you would ask. The royal family waits five years before announcing the birth of their children. Isn’t that convenient?”

“Almost too convenient,” you mumbled under your breath. If Jaehyun’s older brother died just shy of five years old, that would’ve simplified the process of covering up his death. 

Jungwoo glanced over at you, aching. And maybe a little desperate. “Do you believe me?”

A tiny sigh escaped your mouth and you planted your palm on your forehead, overwhelmed by the load of information that was just dumped on you and unsure what to do with its weight. “If what you’re saying is true, this is dangerous,” you replied levelly. 

Jungwoo huffed, “You’re telling me.”

“But Jaehyun and I have touched the piano on several occasions. I play it every night just so that I don’t have to hear those godawful noises,” you added, hesitating. “Shouldn’t I be dying?”

Jungwoo fell silent for a sudden, mulling something over. Then, he said quietly, “There is another possibility...”

“What?”

“Perpetuity,” was Jungwoo’s response, voice quieting even though only you were there to hear him. “This one I’m not so sure of. The rumor is that if you touch the piano, you meet one of two fates. Death at your hand, or being condemned to your worst nightmare. It sounds like bullshit.”

His confidence seemed to waver, but you were interested. You were driven by a determination to discover all there was to know about this godforsaken place. “How exactly is one condemned to their own nightmare?”

“Your deepest fear will become your ultimate fate,” Jungwoo explained, wrapping his arms around his torso. “Your worst nightmare will come to life. And you’ll live it everyday until you die.”

You devolved into nipping cold shudders. And it had little to nothing to do with the basically subzero temperature of the room that you occupied. Of course, Jungwoo didn’t mean literal nightmares, but it didn’t help that not too long ago you were being haunted by bad dreams. 

Your worst fear was living the same day for the rest of your life. Adventure was your natural instinct and curiosity was your vice. It’s what you stood for and a part of yourself that you refused to negotiate. You could’ve had every dollar that the world had to offer, but you would never gamble away your freedom. 

Thankfully, this life gave you more than enough. So what you were expected to be beautiful and ladylike when people had their eyes fixed to you. Did it matter? That didn’t change that when there was nobody there to judge you, you were liberated. 

Because it had always been that way, ever since you were a kid. You knew that to some people your existence served one purpose. And you didn’t care. You got to be yourself in the solace of this gigantic palace. 

At least for now. Freedom came with a sacrifice; your own sanity and peace of mind. And truth be told, you weren’t sure if it was a fair trade. 

“I’ve been having these dreams,” you started, swallowing. 

“What kind of dreams?”

“Bad ones,” you confessed, wanting to curl into yourself. Those dreams put the fear of god into you. “When the noises weren’t keeping me awake, these nightmares would take their turn. Jaehyun hunted me down in all of them. And I would wake up after he catches me.”

Jungwoo noticed that your voice was a little shaky and offered you a compassionate hand squeeze, saying, “It’s okay. They’re not real. Jaehyun wouldn’t hurt you.”

“I know, but…,” you trailed. “I had them repeatedly. Same dream, different night. The only other difference was that they would happen in another place. But they stopped after Jaehyun started taking me to play the piano before bed.”

Jungwoo stiffened. “That’s… convenient.” Like a lot of things here. 

“I know,” you agreed, shaking your head. Just the thought of Jaehyun was making you tremble with anger. You knew he was secretive, but it felt like he was borderline lying to you. 

Then again, Jaehyun didn’t deny that there was something that he was keeping from you. Instead of telling you cheap excuses of consolations, he admitted that there was something grave enough he couldn’t even confide in you about it. And you didn’t know if that was worse. 

Things were beginning to appear increasingly more eerie. “Do you want to know why I took you down here?” Jungwoo asked quietly.

Bobbing your head, you shifted to give Jungwoo your undivided attention. Something about the vibes of this room put you off. You didn’t like it. You could sense that something heinous had occurred maybe in the very spot that you stood. 

“The prince’s grandfather spent a lot of time down here.”

“Really?”

Jungwoo nodded. “Apparently, he flipped out one day and trashed the whole place. It happened a few days before he passed, so the story goes. Then, they relocated the cellar and closed this room off.”

That explains the mess, you thought to yourself. But not much else.  “Why would they do that?”

“Like hell I know,” Jungwoo replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “My bet is that they’re hiding something. Which we already knew, but I get lost every time I try to figure out what it is exactly.”

“You aren’t the only one,” you droned, releasing a pained breath. 

Jungwoo mustered a smile, but it was thin. “Well, if it’s quite alright, I would like to return to my duties, Your Highness.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you for everything. You’ve been a great help,” you said, bowing respectfully in gratitude. 

Jungwoo mirrored your movement. “It’s been a pleasure,” he told you sweetly. “I can’t skip out on my daily responsibilities, but if you ever need me, say the word and I’ll come.”

After thanking Jungwoo again and him assuring you that you weren’t in any way indebted to him, you trailed him up the creaky stairs and headed your own separate ways.

The brightness of the hallway compared to the lifeless cellar made you squint your eyes and wobble towards the edge of the stairs as you took a moment to readjust. Your brain also needed a second to process the newfound information. Now you had more answers, but twice as many questions. 

Maybe Jungwoo was right. Maybe knowledge wasn’t power; it was a burden. But you were already in too deep to quit looking. 

Jaehyun was too preoccupied to accompany you to his grandfather’s former bedchamber tonight and thus you opted out of the visit altogether. Of course, you knew what would inevitably happen if you didn’t press those keys, but you had an aggressive curiosity to sate.

The piano and your dreams were related. You knew that now. But if one of the piano’s unpredictable fates was to prolong its victims' agony, how come it abated yours instead?

For half a second, you wondered if Jungwoo was really telling the truth. You wanted to believe him, you really did, but something came to you and whispered not to trust anyone. 

Not even Jaehyun. Hell, especially not Jaehyun. 

Pulling the blankets over his thighs, Jaehyun glanced over to you as he crawled into bed and asked, “Did you have a good day without me?”

“It was long without you,” you replied, plopping a glass of water at your bedside in case you got thirsty. 

“I’m sure. What did you do?”

“A little bit of everything. I had the most wonderful dinner. I only wish you could’ve stuck around for dessert. The chef said he misses cooking in front of you.” It was only partly a lie. Your weakened appetite wouldn’t allow you to eat in spite of the full-course meals prepped for you. 

Jaehyun was smiling at some passing memories of him tagging along with you to aggravate the chef with curious banter. Though you mainly did all of the talking. “That’s good,” he said, chuckling quietly in amusement. “Tell him that I’m sorry I wasn’t there to hush you.”

Rolling your eyes, you grumbled, “Whatever.”

Jaehyun's infectious laughter filled your ears again. “Goodnight,” he whispered, leaning in to press a kiss to your brow.

“Goodnight,” you said back, releasing a shaky breath. For all of a second, you forgot that you were mad at him. His arms felt safe. Like home. 

This is your home now. A cool shudder wrecked through you. How Jaehyun could feel so dangerous but so inviting all at once was beyond you. 

You sank to your bloodied knees, unable to withstand the cramp shooting its way up your calves. Your tireless sprinting left you with just enough strength to crawl behind a door, thanking god that it was unlocked and quietly pushing it closed. 

The space was completely silent, save for your labored breaths that you endeavored to suppress. Jaehyun couldn’t have been too far. It was a blessing that you even managed to escape him.

For now. Something told you that he wouldn’t give up so easily.

Pure darkness suffocated you with its chokehold. You glanced up and searched desperately for a light source. Your surroundings were virtually invisible. Propping your hands on the door, you pushed yourself off of the floor and groped the wall for a light, finding a chain and tugging it impatiently.

It took a couple of tries for the lights to flicker on. The space around you was hardly any less dim, but at the very least, you could make out where you were.

“Darling, come back,” called out Jaehyun’s featherlight voice just outside of the door. “Let’s just talk. All I want is to talk.”

He was closing in. You never realized your heart could thump at this quick of a rhythm. You never imagined the day where you would be terrified for your life. Your eyes winced in pain as you moved along the cracked wall, but you couldn’t stop. 

Shivers tensed your entire body as you descended down the hallway. Bare feet hit the cold naked floor, because you opted out of running in heels minutes earlier. 

Jaehyun’s footsteps came louder, closer. You swore quietly to yourself, realizing that the lights might’ve shone under the door and given you away. But the harder you tried to move, groping the wall for purchase, the more tempted you were to cry out in excruciating pain. 

And then the worst happened. The door opened, a fraction of outdoor light stretching down the hallway to where you stood. 

Your heart screamed in panic and alarm. Fear was merciless. None of this was fair. Jaehyun could give chase for hours, and he would if it came down to it, but you were running on empty. 

“Baby, I know you’re in there,” Jaehyun called out gently, yet menacingly altogether. 

It took everything in you not to mutter, “Fuck,” under your breath as you tried to get further and further away from him, hoping and wishing that he wouldn’t follow you if you were quiet enough.

Taking in one deep inhale, you tried to stabilize your breathing, but after running halfway across the palace, your work was cut out for you. You walked inch by inch, careful with your motions in case your injured legs misstepped and you came to the ground with a resounding thud, and moved as soundlessly as you could. 

To your shock, you came across a stairway. In spite of how strangely familiar it seemed, you didn’t know where it would take you, but there was absolutely no way in hell that you were turning back.

 It was only down from here. 

Except there was a problem. The stairs had no railing and you didn’t trust yourself to feel your way through without tumbling down to your doom. You dropped to the floor again, putting your back to wherever the stairs led, and began to descend. 

Jaehyun’s footsteps let you know he was still there, easing his way down the dark hallway. You didn’t understand why he walked so leisurely, taking his time to capture you. Almost like he knew you wouldn’t get far either way. 

Your feet passed one stair at a time, cautious. You didn’t want to make any noise, but that ship sailed when one of the stairs creaked loudly. They reacted unfavorably to too much pressure, whining in response. 

Panic made your blood thump in your ear and you hoped that Jaehyun didn’t hear, but you gave up on that when he said, “Darling, I can hear you.”

With all hope gone, you scurried down the stairs, ceasing to care about how safely you got there as long as you still made it alive in the end. You didn’t focus on breathing. Only on getting the fuck out of here.

You kept glancing up the stairs just to make sure Jaehyun wasn’t too near until your foot touched a different cool surface and you knew you were at the bottom. When you turned around though, your terror only intensified. 

There was no place for you to go. Nowhere for you to run. There were no other paths for you to take because the room was a dead end. 

“Give up, baby,” Jaehyun said, finally at the top of the stairs. He was coming down, slowly but surely, and he was going to take you. “I’ve got you. There’s nowhere else for you to run.”

With every step he took down the stairs, you took twice as many backwards, wobbling towards a wall. Like there was some kind of secret passage that would save your life. 

There was no use anymore. Jaehyun set his feet on the floor and grabbed you just as you tried to turn away from him, pulling you into his open arms. You never stood a chance. He was stronger than you. Faster than you. 

“It’s all okay,” Jaehyun whispered as you sobbed, your back burning wherever his fingers attempted to soothe you. “We’re together now.”

Your body veered to life, jerking awake. Your eyes instinctively snapped to your legs, searching them for injuries, but at worst they looked slightly stiff. 

The rest of you trembled. You knew this was going to come, but it felt worse than you remembered. With a quick glance to your left, you noticed that Jaehyun wasn’t there. 

You didn’t know if it was really something that you should’ve thought twice about or if the circumstances were just naturally making you suspicious. Either way, you wanted to know where he was. After a long day of handling his responsibilities, he should’ve been unable to leave bed, and yet, his side of the bed wasn’t even a little warm. 

Too cold for him to be in the bathroom. Too cold for him to take a quick trip to the kitchen for a midnight snack. 

You impulsively decided to investigate and rose to your feet, putting your toes in your slippers and stealthing down the corridor. You didn’t know where to look, but it helped that you saw a light coming from just down the hall, and you followed it discreetly. 

All it would take was one wrong move for Jaehyun to overhear your footsteps. There didn't seem to be anyone patrolling down this corridor, which was typical, because Jaehyun’s family usually had their guards stand outside the entrance doors. 

That only meant that you had to be quieter. The door to Jaehyun’s office was wide open, inviting anyone to see what he was up to, but you didn’t want to make yourself known yet. You wanted to see who he was when you weren’t there. 

Ignoring the formidable stares of the statues, you crept closer to Jaehyun’s private office, breathing solely through your nose. The same hallways you loved to cruise seemed so much scarier when the lights were off.

Finally, you approached the light, hearing chatter the closer you grew to the door. You attached yourself to the wall, peaking your head inside ever so slightly. But when you saw what was happening inside, you stifled a gasp. 

Jaehyun was at his document-laden desk, looking far from exhausted, and he was sitting face-to-face with Jungwoo. 

“Accordingly, I will have to take charge of the country a little longer and my parents duties will fall into my palms,” Jaehyun said, folding his arms across the desk.  

Given that you were at an awkward angle, you couldn’t see Jungwoo's face, but you could hear the confusion in his voice, “I understand, Your Highness, though respectfully, I don’t see why you asked me here.”

“I’m requesting a favor.”

“May I know what it is?”

You shuffled to get a better glimpse into Jaehyun’s office, but scraped the floor with your heel in the process. You swore under your breath, hoping they didn’t hear you, and sensed your heartbeat quicken. 

Jaehyun stiffened in his chair. “Did you hear that noise?”

“Well, this palace is infamous for them, but I’m afraid that I can’t say that I’m a victim of sound,” Jungwoo replied, cocking his head to trail his gaze where Jaehyun’s had fallen. 

Your face tensed with confusion. Jungwoo didn’t hear the noises?

“That’s not what I meant,” Jaehyun said, standing from his seat to investigate. 

At the sound of footsteps, you quickly tiptoed towards a nearby door, pushing it open and squeezing yourself between hardware supplies. It was a tight fit, but you only focused on avoiding Jaehyun.

He glanced around both sides of the hallway, as if he was preparing to cross a bustling road. There was nothing. You were hiding in a closet merely a few feet away. 

You exhaled a quiet breath of relief when you heard him retreating, but frowned when you heard the door close behind him. You were clueless. What did Jaehyun have to hide? And with Jungwoo of all people, you wondered. 

Stumbling out of the closet and into the darkness, you crossed your arms. Jungwoo was one of the few people you found reliable here, but there was something he knew right now that you didn’t. You turned the corner to withdraw back to Jaehyun’s bedchamber, immediately jotting down a mental note to press him about it later. 

When you came back to bed, you found yourself still nervous without Jaehyun beside you. And you rebuked yourself for it instantly after. 

You didn’t realize it in your sleep, but the place where your dream occurred was the cellar Jungwoo had taken you to. Only darker. And with a soon-to-be king chasing you to the end. 

You shook your head with a groan, deciding that you would catch some sleep. For whatever reason, you had a strange feeling that you’d be needing it soon.

To your shock, it was daylight when you rose again. Somehow, you actually slept through the entire night. The only sounds that jolted you awake were those of impatient knocks coming from the bedchamber door. 

You exhaled grumpily and groaned, “Can I help you?”

“Good morning, Your Highness. Per your husband’s wishes, I’ve come to wake you for your schedule today,” came Jungwoo’s voice. 

Your eyes snapped open. Glancing to your side, you noticed that Jaehyun wasn’t there, and wondered if he ever returned. “I wasn’t aware that I had anything scheduled for today.”

“It was arranged overnight.”

“May I ask what was arranged?”

Jungwoo answered, “There will be a dinner party this evening in the east wing in honor of His Highness’ grandfather. The staff will be coming to style you shortly.”

Huh, I didn’t know that his grandfather’s birthday was today. Then again, Jaehyun was very private. “Okay, thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.”

Before he could run off to take care of his other tasks, you called out, “Jungwoo?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

You considered asking Jungwoo about his encounter with Jaehyun the night before, but decided at the last minute that you didn’t need him to know that you had been there. “Nevermind. Thanks a ton.”

For a whole day, you were kept preoccupied in Jaehyun’s bedchamber with a number of women fixed to you. The hours were so busy that you barely had time to think about your ongoing crisis. And half of you wondered if it was deliberate. 

At least for a minute, you did. With the corset throttling the life out of you, it was difficult to focus on anything else. You were grateful when they lessened the pressure on your organs. The dress was a sparkling royal blue, like you suspected the bulk of the guests attire would be. According to Jaehyun, it was his grandfather’s favorite color. 

It took hours for the women to finish with your makeup and hair. When the final touches were added, it was rapidly nearing dusk. The sun would be retiring below the horizon and the moon would settle over you now, quietly watching. 

Just after seven o’clock, an nth staff member came to escort you to the ballroom on the east wing. You were disappointed that Jaehyun hadn’t come, but sucked it up. Like you, he had most likely been preparing for the party. He must’ve had other roles to fulfill. After all, it was in honor of his late grandfather. 

His parents were out of the country, too. You remembered overhearing him mention to Jungwoo that their visit had been extended for whatever reason.

In a nutshell, he was a busy man. 

Most eyes fell on you when you entered the ballroom’s double doors. You greeted anyone nearby courteously and extended them a polite thanks for coming, as a princess should welcome her guests. 

But your attention was quickly drawn to your husband. You were still mad at him, or at least part of you wanted to be, but he looked mighty fine in that royal blue suit and his dark hair slicked back to hell. Goddamnit. 

“Jaehyun,” you said when you finally caught up to him, almost out of breath. He refused to stay in one place for longer than a minute, one-by-one mingling politely with the crowd. 

“There you are,” Jaehyun said, appearing more than glad to see you. Then, he grabbed your wrist, pressing his thumb to your pulse with an arched brow. “Your heart’s beating fast. Did you run a marathon before you got here or something?”

“Or something,” you murmured, shaking your head. Your husband was light on his feet. 

Jaehyun said to a server passing by, “Please get my wife something cool to drink.”

“Yes, immediately, Your Highness,” the servant replied, making a break for the kitchen. 

In the meantime, you scanned your husband. Other than his sexy suit that had your mouth watering to hell and back, Jaehyun was sporting a beaming smile, grinning from ear to ear. He looked happier than usual, in a way. 

“You’re giving me that look.”

You flinched. His voice broke your thoughts, but your eyes kept wandering; wondering. “What look?”

Jaehyun retorted teasingly, “The one that makes me feel like you’re going to eat me.”

You snickered. “It’s your grandfather’s birthday. He’d be turning in his grave.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind as long as we had fun. My grandfather was big on milking a celebration for all that it was worth. He partied until his last breath,” Jaehyun joked. 

That was delightful news to you. “I didn’t know royals knew how to really party.”

“Please. You should see my mother after three shots of vodka when there’s no camera rolling. She’s full of crazy.”

Your heart simpered. There was a lot you didn’t know and hadn’t seen about this family. Remembering the thought itching at the back of your mind, you wanted to mention how he wasn’t in bed last night, but didn’t know if it was a good time. Instead, you opted for a quiet, “You didn’t tell me your grandfather’s birthday was close.”

You expected Jaehyun to respond with something deflective, but it caught you off-guard when he replied honestly, “There’s a lot of things I don’t tell you.”

Your eyes shone with shock, but you played it off. “Like what?”

Jaehyun kept his eyes fixed to your face without a word, as if he was studying you before making his move. “Darling, If I told you all there was to know about me, we’d be here for days,” he finally said. “Maybe weeks.”

“I want to know you,” you whispered, something poignant in your voice. 

“You do know me.”

The gleam in your eye shifted from sad to vicious, to coy. “Do I?”

Jaehyun nodded his head, gently smoothing a hand down the small of your back. “Yes, you do. I may not always lay my heart on the line, but deep, deep down inside, you know me. The real me, baby.”

Your eyes were staring into Jaehyun’s, like they were trying to forcibly peel back his layers and bare his soul to you, but it was all in vain. All you could liken it to was looking at someone with drunk double vision, your eyes deflecting two different images of him and your mind unsure of which one to trust. 

Sometimes I feel like you tell me just enough to keep me satisfied. And then you feed me more crumbs when I start to get cranky, like giving a bottle to a baby. 

“That drink you wanted, sir,” came a manly voice from beside you. 

“Thank you,” Jaehyun replied politely, handing you the glass of water. 

You accepted it gratefully, although your thirst was no longer for anything tangible. Nothing that you could touch with your bare, naked hands. It was for something deeper. 

Only a couple seconds later, Jaehyun said, “Well, I’d better get going.”

Your eyes went wide. “You aren’t staying with me?”

“I have some more guests to greet and then a speech to give, and then I should be all yours,” Jaehyun told you, shooting you a consoling grin. “You look beautiful in that dress, by the way.”

Your lips spread into a tired smile. “Thanks. I’ve been wearing it all day.”

Jaehyun snorted and gave you a final pat on the back of reassurance before stepping away. 

The party seemed to drag on without Jaehyun near your side and you were irreparably bored. You chatted with some guests with a polite set of white teeth ready to flash, but only because it was the expectation. Sneaking a couple of peeks at Jaehyun, it looked like he was still making his rounds. 

Usually, the king and queen would help, but they obviously weren’t here. Thus, it was Jaehyun’s problem. He couldn’t just leave his own grandfather’s party unattended. That wouldn’t be in good taste. 

You took a curious glimpse around and wondered how long you could disappear without anybody noticing. Probably only a couple of minutes. The whole ballroom would definitely know if you made a break for the double entrance, but if you slipped away through the kitchen, you had better odds. 

With your glass of water in hand, you casually sauntered towards the little back hallway, hopeful your guests wouldn’t question your getaway. 

When you entered the kitchen, you were immediately asked, “Where are you going?”

“Ten,” you gasped, a hand on your chest. He hadn’t even glanced up from his phone. You nearly dropped the glass of water. It had exhausted its purpose. “Would you ask that to a server?”

Ten retorted, “Would a server enter the kitchen with clacking six inch heels?”

“Touché,” you said. That explained how he knew it was you without even looking. 

Ten was the only son of the family chef and he had no regard for the royal life. Well, that was debatable. Your in-laws would’ve thought he was disrespectful, had they (god forbid) ever met. You took Ten as someone unafraid to challenge the status quo. Of course, the two of you vibed. It was refreshing to talk to someone who didn’t remind you of your title every now and then. 

Ten never, ever called you Your Highness. Not because he thought it was beneath him, but because he recognized your need for a friend. Not a follower. 

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Just getting away for a second, if that’s okay with you,” you deadpanned, crossing your arms.

Ten gasped dramatically. “During the party in loving memory of your husband’s dead grandfather? That’s scandalous, babe.”

You scoffed. “Please. You’re not even at the party.”

Ten shot back, “I’m not married to the prince, either.”

Though you didn’t mean it at all, you snarled, “You make me sick.”

“You hate that I’m right,” Ten said boastfully, sporting a victorious grin. 

“Yeah, whatever,” you grumbled. “Where’s your dad? I thought the stew was supposed to be out fifteen minutes ago.”

Ten shrugged. “Smoke break. I wouldn’t eat it if I were you. Gave me the business.”

You winced. “Jesus. Well, I’ll be back. I need some fresh air.”

“I’ll let the hubby know if he asks questions.”

“Thanks.”

Then, you were on your way. 

The corridors were less dense than they typically were, though considering there was an event happening not too many feet away from you, you figured security was keeping a close eye on the hallway on the other side. 

If you were being frank, you had no clue where you were going. You just knew that you couldn’t be in that room with all those people much longer. Maybe you were starting to realize that the royal scene wasn’t for you. Or maybe it was your heightened suspicion planting those thoughts in your head. 

Whatever it was, you didn’t like it. You wondered if Ten would take you in. You had no idea what a day in the life of Ten Lee was like, but it wouldn’t hurt to find out. That was a nice backup plan. 

But leaving Jaehyun would sicken you in ways more lethal than any deadly disease. And Jaehyun would never forsake this life in this castle. 

It was a part of him. 

You’re talking crazy, you hissed to your insane thoughts. Perhaps it wasn’t a great idea to leave you alone by yourself with nothing but your thoughts and the silence that fed them. You might’ve been better off finding a guest with ears prepared to be talked off. 

The east wing was unfamiliar to you although much of it looked identical to the west one. When you somehow traveled back over to your side, it came to your attention that the gardens were nearby. Curious, you made a beeline for the doors, wondering if Giselle was out finishing up her obligations for the day. 

Night had dulled the sky completely when you stepped onto the familiar stone paths. The moon was there in her full glory, round and curvy with a thin veil of mist overneath, and the stars were few. 

The clacking thud that Ten spoke of was a telltale sign of your presence, but you didn’t see anyone there to warn. Instead, the sound grounded you in reality, keeping you as far away from your teetering thoughts as humanly possible. 

Wind was the only other sound. Actually, that was a lie; you heard owls lurking somewhere in the distance and knew they were wide awake. A sign that the night had truly begun. 

“Hello?” you called out. “Giselle?”

Silence. That was strange. These people usually worked from bright and early in the morning until unsettlingly dark and late at night, but of course, if Giselle had gotten off early, you couldn’t complain. Good for her. 

You were prepared to turn away and disappointedly retreat back to the party when you barely noticed something out of place in the corner of your eye. 

Blood. 

You were a curious person by nature. But this wasn’t an inquisitive investigation. This was a precautionary measure to make sure that nobody was injured. 

But what you saw made you physically nauseous, a stir settling in your belly instantaneously. Your first instinct was to scream at the top of your lungs. Giselle was sprawled out just shy of the ice cold stone, lying on her stomach in a thick pool of her own blood. 

“Oh my heavens,” you exclaimed, paralyzed with shock. Or fear. Probably a little (or a lot) of both. 

Given that there was a ladder pressed against a tall tree and pruners almost right near her body, you made the reasonable assumption that she’d fallen. The shock dimmed a little in order so that you could think, and you kneeled over to check her for a pulse, but came to the heart-stopping conclusion that she was dead. 

You backed away from Giselle. Your heart ached for her, but you couldn’t touch a dead body. The smell of death was foreign and overwhelming and you didn’t know how to keep yourself composed. Finding your bearings, you did what any reasonable person would do after discovering a lifeless body. 

You went to find help. 

It looked like an accident, like she had taken a wrong step and made a fatal mistake, but that didn’t mean you could just leave her there to rot. Somebody still had to call the police. And an ambulance. 

Tears blurred your vision as you ran back to the east wing. You couldn’t believe that Giselle was gone. You didn’t want to believe that. She never let you get too close, but you recognized Giselle for the hard-working woman she was that had her life all too suddenly ripped away from her. 

Fuck, this shouldn’t have happened. Giselle divulged to you about how her family needed her. They survived off of her income, her grueling long hours of hot hard work. 

Your mind couldn’t help but come to the worst possible conclusions. What if she knew too much? She was the first one to mention the piano to you and she seemed to be in denial about something. 

No, that’s ridiculous. There’s no way the monarchy would kill a devoted worker for keeping their filthy secrets, especially from their newest addition. She’s been inadvertently doing them a favor. 

Then again, someone was guaranteed to keep a secret if it died with them. Still, there was no evidence that her untimely death and the piano’s curse was even remotely linked together. You saw the scene yourself. It looked like an accident, not a crime. 

That made you remember what Jungwoo told you in the cellar about the deaths and disappearances. About how anybody who touched the piano either died mysteriously or disappeared without a trace. 

You had no way of knowing for sure if Giselle ever touched the piano, but if she was a victim of sound, as Jungwoo put it, that should’ve somehow placed a target on her back. And yours. You shuddered at the thought. 

Spooky sounds meant contact with the piano. You had done more than touched it. You’d played it. Almost every night for weeks. Jungwoo mentioned to Jaehyun that he didn’t hear the sounds, but he never told you if he touched the piano, either. 

But if his father had, then knowing what Jungwoo knew, you doubted that he would. 

Whatever it was, nothing made it easier to cope. Pictures of blood kept flickering behind your eyelids whenever you blinked. Your sobs echoed off the hallway walls with your hurried footsteps, but noticing the double doors finally come into view, you tried to pull yourself back together. 

You subconsciously sighed out in relief when you got there, but when you came to draw it open, the hands refused to budge. “Fuck!” you cursed out. 

Not that anybody would hear you. There was music thumping beneath your feet even outside the door and it would’ve done you no good to knock. It was strange that the door was locked, though. Now that you thought about it, there also weren’t any guards in the hallways. 

But there was another entrance through the back. 

Ten, you thought, already running again. Your legs ached from sprinting in heels, but somebody needed urgent medical attention. And Ten had a cellphone. 

The kitchen entrance luckily wasn’t too far from where you already were and you came prepared to charge through the doors, but those, like the others, were also locked. You started to bang tirelessly on the door, yelling with complete vigor, “Ten, open the door! Someone needs help!”

There was no answer. You tried to beat harder, to scream louder, but every effort seemed useless. With your voice turning hoarse, that glass of water you left inside the kitchen suddenly sounded tempting. 

“What the fuck,” you grumbled under your breath, exhausted and confused and in shock. You needed to lie down, but you refused to rest until help was on the way. 

Why would Ten suddenly leave? Dinner couldn’t have even been ready yet. You didn’t know why he tagged along with his dad sometimes, but you did know that they came and went in the same 

vehicle. 

There was a door just to your left, one that led outside where Ten’s father would’ve parked. You immediately made a beeline for it, curious if they were gone. It was the only way you could rationalize the locked door and Ten’s absence. 

You hoped to see somebody out there, and you did, but they weren’t breathing. 

The chef was on the ground where he usually took his smoke breaks, bleeding as if he was torn from every seam and had been ripped open from every angle. You gaped, fixing a hand to your mouth as you wobbled in surprise, gripping the nearest wall for purchase. 

Turning away from him, you heaved for breath and tried to keep your stomach's contents inside where they were. But there was blood splattered everywhere you looked. And if you thought the stench was overpowering earlier, you were in for the wildest ride of your life. 

This death said loud and clear everything that Giselle’s didn’t. This was no mistake. Matter of fact, this scene was so messy that it couldn’t have not been done deliberately. 

“Oh my god,” you rasped, unsure of what to say. And what to do. Never had you seen a dead body outside of a funeral backdrop and having seen not one, but two very dead people was seriously wounding your ability to think. 

All you knew was that something was fishy. You thought Giselle’s death was a self-inflicted mistake, but you weren’t so convinced anymore, all things considered. This was the second body to wash up, metaphorically speaking. And this one had been undeniably murdered. 

There was a serial killer on the loose. 

Your first thought was Jaehyun and you started to panic, but you consoled yourself with the reminder that he had an entourage of loyal servants to protect him with their lives and shield him with their bodies. He was okay. Giselle and Ten’s father, on the other hand, not so much. 

Speaking of Ten, you still had no clue where he was or what he was doing. For all you knew, he could’ve been the killer. 

No. There’s no way. Ten didn’t have a mean bone in his body, much less a murderous one. Plus, what would he have against Giselle?

And why would he kill his own father?

I don’t know. None of this makes sense. I don’t know why anyone would hurt Giselle or the chef, or anyone for that fucking matter, you huffed, angry. These people didn’t deserve to die. The person responsible would pay. 

Unable to withstand the stench, you pinched your nose and turned for the door. Of course, it would be the only one unlocked. You had the misfortune of seeing what was behind lucky door number three. 

Back in the halls, you only walked aimlessly. You had no idea where the fuck you were going and it was probably a terrible idea to be out and about with an anonymous blood-hungry murderer on the loose, but you weren’t thinking that far. 

Images continued to flicker in your head. You wondered what were the last things these people saw before they died, if they knew what they had coming. And you realized what a shame it was that everything these people knew died the second they took their last breaths. 

You couldn’t wrap your head around this happening. And you wanted to know why. With the chef’s murder, accidents were completely out of the window, and you thought about the piano again. But that made even less sense. 

What business would the chef have with the piano? You doubted that man had ever strayed further than the dining hall. 

Your thoughts traveled even further. Giselle was a gardener. The bulk of her work happened outside and there was hardly any need for her to come indoors when all the tools for her job could be found in the shed. 

More than ever, you needed answers, and more than ever, they seemed impossibly difficult to come by. 

The further you traveled down the hallway, the louder the sound of jagged breathing grew until it finally snapped you out of your biohazard of thoughts. You stiffened with alarm, body alert, and realized it might’ve been in your best interest to locate a useful weapon. 

You ducked behind a corner, not wanting to be caught like a helpless damsel in distress if it was the killer (though only a lousy one would’ve been so noisy), but you heard a groan and knew in your heart that you recognized that voice. 

Peeking around the corner ever so slightly, you noticed Ten clutching his stomach and clinging to a wall for dear life, sticky with hot sweat. And you discerned that he was no threat. 

“Ten,” you called out, approaching him with concern. “What’s wrong? Did someone hurt you?”

Ten shook his head, only barely keeping himself standing. You came to grab him and noticed he was burning up a thousand degrees, helping him slowly sit on the floor. “I told you. That stew gave me the business.”

“This isn’t just a stomach ache, Ten. I think you were poisoned,” you said, crouched down to be eye level with him. 

Ten forced a smile even though he was clearly uncomfortable and in a lot of pain. “Yeah, you’re telling me. But my father was the only one controlling the food. He wouldn’t do that to me.”

The mention of his father made your shoulders stiffen. You scanned Ten’s face, wondering if you should’ve told him what you knew. If he was still alive by the end of this, he would find out one way or another. “Ten, have you seen your dad?”

“I know he’s dead.” 

You cocked him a glance. “You don’t sound disappointed.”

“Do I sound like I’m in a lot of pain?” Ten asked. 

“You sound like you’re trying to keep yourself whole.”

“That’s because I’m kinda dying here. I’m sorry if I’m bad at multitasking,” Ten hissed, paling on the spot. 

Your gaze turned apologetic. “Listen, I’m sorry,” you whispered quietly, glancing around the hallway for suspicious onlookers. “I’ve found two dead bodies and I’ve been running all over the palace looking for help. Please, don’t be the third.”

“Trust me, I don’t wanna be any more than you want me to be…,” Ten trailed, wincing. “Holy fuck. Holy fucking shit. I’m gonna die.”

“Don’t say that!” you screamed. 

Ten threw his head back and groaned, “Babe, I feel like my guts are being ripped open, and not in a good way.”

You wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Ten was good at keeping the mood as light as it could be as he literally died right before your eyes. And there was nothing you could do to save him. You felt helpless. 

“We’ve got to find help,” you told him, grabbing his hands in yours. 

Ten shook his head. His skin was glistening with a thick layer of sweat and each of his breaths sounded labored. “I can’t move. The room feels so hot. I think I’m gonna pass out.”

He looked like it, too. Tears threatened to fall from your eyes, but you fought them back. At the very least, if Ten was going now, he wouldn’t go alone. “Ten, somebody did this to you. You already said your father wouldn’t. Somebody else had to be in the kitchen.”

Ten shrugged weakly. “So many people went in and out of the kitchen. I don’t even know their names. It could’ve been anyone.”

You released a shaky breath. That answer helped no one. 

Ten’s eyes started to flutter and you shook him in your arms, begging, “No, please don’t close your eyes on me. You’re a fighter. Fight.”

“I’m fighting,” he whispered, voice on the verge of silence. “But sometimes we just lose.”

“I can’t lose you, too,” you cried, trembling as you held him. For as long as he was there, breathing and talking to you, you wouldn’t let him think that he was alone. 

Ten shook his head. You knew he had given it his all, because Ten wasn’t the type to go down without a fight, even if he didn’t win in the end. He’d never let someone else claim a peaceful victory. “If I die right now, I want you to know it’s been a pleasure knowing you.”

“Ten…,” you said. Tears made your eyes burn now. You were clenching your fists so hard his hands were probably sore. 

“They might come for you. Don’t surrender. Whoever this guy is, you give them hell until you can’t anymore.”

A lone tear finally slipped past your cheek. “What if I don’t make it?”

“Then you die knowing you did absolutely everything you could to stay alive,” Ten whispered with the last of his strength. 

Your heart was bursting with sadness and unadulterated rage. To watch somebody in their final moments was different than imagining it unfold. This made it even more real. This was a picture you would never forget even in death. 

Finally, Ten’s strength gave out, and you lingered there for a minute even after. Your thumb pressed to his wrist and you noted that he still had a weak pulse. 

You nodded your head. That was enough for you. But you had to find help immediately. 

And you absolutely had to find out who was responsible for this. They would have a brutal punishment. 

You wiped the tears from your eyes and started to run again, but you didn’t get far before you collided into Jaehyun’s chest, and you released a breath of relief when you saw him. “Oh my goodness, Jaehyun. Thank god it’s you. I’ve been trying to get help for ages. Two people are dead and I think Ten’s on his way out.”

Jaehyun’s voice was unbothered. “Really?”

You realized then that the night was far from over. 

You pulled back, suspicious. You just told him that two people had died in his castle. He should’ve been fuming. “Why do you sound so nonchalant?”

Jaehyun’s lips were in a line. “I warned you not to go looking too deep. You should’ve listened like a good girl.”

The realization was starting to settle in, but you didn’t want to know the truth. You didn’t even want to fathom it. For so many weeks, you’d been unknowingly wallowing in ignorance. “This is your fault. You did this, didn’t you?”

“Yes. All of it was me,” Jaehyun said, like he was proudly boasting about his murders. 

You shook your head. You knew there was something going on, something that your husband was at the heart of, but not like this. “Ten’s dying.”

Jaehyun looked and sounded completely indifferent, “Okay, that’s dramatic. He shouldn’t be dead. He’s in for a solid nap, though. And a concussion if he hit the ground too hard.”

That didn’t happen. You had been the one to personally lower Ten to the ground. Either way, you were none too pleased. You weren’t sure if that was supposed to be reassuring, because Jaehyun’s tone was empty and his face was borderline inscrutable. 

Your whole body felt weak. The room was spinning. Your own body was on the brink of collapse. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Jaehyun commented, studying your appearance. You probably looked like you had actually run a marathon. 

“You’re a monster,” you snapped, brimming with loathing and hatred. 

Jaehyun didn’t flinch. “It’s been said,” he told you, like it was only a regular insult to him. 

You shook your head. This couldn’t be happening.

Jaehyun took a step closer to you, and you took twice as many back. You wanted to be nowhere near him. This wasn’t the Jaehyun you knew. He was cold. Alternatively, maybe this was the Jaehyun you’d known all along, the one you’d tried to suppress. 

Your mind was showing you the warning signs. She was giving you all the right signals. And yet, you were blind to each of them. 

Jaehyun tilted his head, looking at you with fucking nothing. There was nothing in his eyes. Nothing on his face. “Do you believe in happy endings?”

“Not with you in it,” you seethed, convulsing with a newfound anger you never thought you could possess, much less direct towards your husband. 

Jaehyun snickered for the first time since you’d last seen him. “I’m giving you the chance to have yours.”

You glared at him, wary. “What does that mean?”

“It means that you have thirty minutes to leave this castle and have your happy ending without me, but if I catch you before then, you’re mine. It’s like hide and seek.”

You wanted to rage. This man had the audacity to play fucking games with you when so many lifes were gone and many more were probably at stake. There was no telling who else he’d hurt. “When do my thirty minutes start?”

“Right now.”

You left then and there. You couldn’t stand to be in proximity of Jaehyun for another fucking second. And he didn’t follow. He was letting you think that you had a chance. 

When you turned the corner, safely out of his vision, you could finally acknowledge the beaten and battered condition of your heart. The look Jaehyun had given you only moments ago was unlike any other you’d ever seen. It was colder. 

You should’ve seen it coming. Jaehyun was the missing piece. This was all happening because of his grandfather’s piano, for fuck’s sake. The same grandfather whose birthday happened to be today. Of course, it wasn’t a coincidence that bodies started dropping that same day. 

You were angry. You were hurt. To be honest, you were just the right amount of everything. And yet, you were thinking about how madly you were still in love with Jaehyun. 

Wincing your eyes closed, you wished that this was just a nightmare like everything else. That you would wake up in Jaehyun’s arms and he'd tell you that it was all a bad dream. Unfortunately, the longer the night went on, the more you accepted that that couldn’t be farther away from the truth. 

The only real difference was that Jaehyun wasn’t right on your tail. He was giving you an opportunity to escape and free yourself from this hellhole once and for all. Your shoulders suddenly felt cold when you recalled something that he’d told you.

I would never chase you, Jaehyun had said. I will always have you right where I want you.

The statement made you feel uneasy then, but you overlooked it, because you wrongfully assumed that Jaehyun was harmless. 

You shook the thoughts away. He wasn’t worth thinking about right now. Survival was your top priority and escaping was the only way you’d ever know peace. 

The palace had a grand total of four entrances stretched across its acres - the main gate, the east entrance, the south entrance, and the west entrance. Only the east entrance was nearby. You knew Jaehyun wouldn’t have made this easy, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. 

You hurried to the nearest exit leading outdoors and breathed only a little easier when you were met with the fresh, crisp night air. Given that you’d been running in heels for what felt like hours, you finally ditched them near a bush and started to run again. 

Traveling to the gate would take forever without a car. The same could be said about the rest of the castle, far from tiny, and you only had thirty minutes on the clock.

You had to make every minute count. 

You wanted to sob, but you focused solely on getting the fuck out of there. You hadn’t forgotten about Ten, but you couldn’t help him here. Jaehyun had apparently taken mercy upon him, sparing his life where he hadn’t hesitated to steal others. 

Why? Was it some kind of reflection of control? Did he realize that Ten wasn’t the root of his need to kill?

Whatever that was. 

“Too much is going on right now,” you whispered to yourself, heart thudding quicker.

For a second you wondered if the other staff you cared for was alright. These were people you saw everyday, working from dusk till dawn, and yet still treated you with respect and kindness. Their sweetness deserved to be spread, not eliminated and forgotten. 

Giselle was gone and had no hope for revival, but as far as you were concerned, Jungwoo was still skipping around with a burden of secrets on his shoulder. Part of you couldn’t bring yourself to fully trust him, not after his disaster of a meeting of Jaehyun, but that didn’t mean he should’ve died. 

Apparently, you and Jaehyun weren’t on the same page. The worst part was that you couldn’t even begin to fathom what he got out of slaughtering his employees like animals. You’d never been able to see inside his head. 

The east gate came into view and you circled in on it, desperate to make an escape. You briefly considered the possibility of Jaehyun being nearby, potentially having taken a closer exit, prepared to hinder you by any means necessary. 

But when the gate refused to budge like you feared, you came to the conclusion that he was definitely far away. Jaehyun was five steps ahead of you. 

He had all of the advantages in this twisted game, you realized. Jaehyun grew up in this palace; he obviously had to know all of the ins and outs, every nook and cranny. It would take you, on the other hand, the entire thirty minutes to navigate from one end of the place to the other. 

This game was never created to be fair. You remembered him showing you little shortcuts along the palace to make your trips shorter. If you wanted to survive, you’d have to fight for your life. 

“Fuck,” you groaned under your breath. You had no way of telling for sure how much time had passed, but if you had to guess, at least ten minutes. 

The sky was dark and mistier than it was earlier. At least it felt that way. The tears stinging your eyes made it even harder to see and you were inching closer to succumbing to the battle. If Jaehyun had rigged it from the start, you knew there was no way in hell you were getting out. 

But Ten’s words rang out in your brain. He was alive for now, but as far as he knew, they could’ve been his final ones. And you knew you couldn’t give up yet.

Mustering the courage to continue fighting like Ten would’ve, you remembered something. There was an emergency exit near Jaehyun’s grandfather’s room. You didn’t care to know why. Bad things just seemed to happen when he was involved. 

Without a second thought, you headed back inside. If you wanted out, you didn’t have a choice. 

Your sanity fought for control against your pumping adrenaline and you came to accept that it wasn’t possible for both to coexist with each other. One or the other. And if you were up against a sicko like Jaehyun, you needed to fight fire with fire. 

You had to degrade yourself to his level, meet him where he was at. You had to become you at your worst version. A hell-raising monster with a thirst for blood. 

There was a familiar ground nearby when you approached the door. The part of the garden you never wandered into, because it was the same place that godawful dream happened. With the pond and stone galore.  

You quickly swiped a pitchfork, throwing it over your shoulder, and when you were finally through the door, started sprinting back down the hallways. The emergency exit was all the way in the west wing and you had less time than you would’ve liked to make it the hell out of there. 

Every bone in your body ached, but you had too much to fight for. You didn’t even know what all was at stake if Jaehyun won, but you didn’t want to know, and you couldn’t sleep beside him at night anymore knowing who he was and what he’d done. 

Turning each corner, you looked around for signs of a lingering Jaehyun before you kept going. Every hallway looked exactly the same as the one that came before it and it made you feel like you were walking in circles, impossible to tell if you were even going anywhere. It was thrusting you far past the brink of madness. 

Minutes passed, but courtesy of the painful yet handy adrenaline rush, it felt like seconds when you found the west wing stairs. Taking the elevator would’ve been a quicker option, but if Jaehyun was nearby, he would know if the elevator was preoccupied, and you had no interest in playing russian roulette with your life. 

But there was a familiarly pungent smell in the air. 

You wanted to be sick when you saw the source. The others were messy, but this death was brutal in ways you had never witnessed. Jungwoo’s remains were perched on the stairs within a pool of nauseating blood, sitting in his own overkill. 

His insides were definitely on the outside. Matter of fact, they were everywhere, decorating a number of steps. Jungwoo was savagely mangled and mutilated, similar to how a wolf would ravage an elk, like his killer wanted there to be little to nothing of him left. 

“Jungwoo,” you gasped in shock, crouching down as your legs started to tremble. 

His dead body was on display. Like the person who killed him wanted you to see what they’d done. And you couldn’t bring yourself to accept that Jaehyun was the reason why.

All the skepticism you had towards him devolved into regret. Of course, Jungwoo wasn’t to blame for any of the wicked stuff happening in the shadows. Like his father, he was a victim. And at the end of the day, like you, all he wanted was answers. 

There was a weight on your chest and an unbridled rage spiraling inside your heart. “I’ll find them for you,” you whispered vengefully. 

Then, you heard it. Scratching in the walls stretching near the stairway. In spite of the several claims of their existence, you’d never heard them until now. Soon after, you could’ve swore you heard a familiar voice. 

Jaehyun. He was in the fucking walls? 

Stepping around Jungwoo’s bloody corpse, careful not to step your bare feet in any stray specks of blood, you headed upstairs with a sparkling revolve keeping your blood pumping. The emergency exit was close. 

It was actually right down the hallway. When you were walking from the bedchamber with Jaehyun, the journey felt longer, but you ignored every glare from those evil statues and came right in front of the emergency door. 

After yanking the knob, it begrudgingly opened and you stepped inside without a moment of consideration. There was no time. Do or die. 

The door closed behind you on its own terms. You just kept pushing. This was your only ticket to escape and though you weren’t exactly sure where the path led, you had no intention to stop and fret about your whereabouts. It was worth nothing though, that the deeper you came, the more it felt like a secret passageway. 

The hallway didn’t look the way you pictured an escape route. The walls were accessorized with portraits and lights. And you couldn’t believe your shock when you saw it diverge into different paths like a crossroad. 

This fucking was a secret passageway. 

There was something else you noticed. Those scratches sounded closer than they had when you were outside, like somebody dragging their nails onto the walls as they walked. 

“What the fuck?” you wondered. 

You stiffened when you heard your husband’s voice, “Darling, is that you? Your thirty minutes are over.”

Nope. Silent as ever, you made for the other path. You were picking your battles. 

Jaehyun was probably closer to the way out of here after all. He would’ve never given you a free opportunity. He was probably guarding the escape just in case you were clever (or lucky) enough. 

His footsteps were slow. You couldn’t see him, but you could hear him, and he was in no particular hurry to catch you. You worried that you were walking into a dead end, but when you came out on the other side, there was another set of doors. 

Your eyes flickered between them. You had time to waste before Jaehyun even got anywhere close to you, but you wanted to get ahead. After a moment of carefully contemplating, you made the nerve-wracking decision to go for the right. 

When you stepped out, you found yourself right back where it all began. You were outside, but not as far as you would’ve liked. It was the gardens. You glimpsed around and saw the tree you wed Jaehyun under. 

Though it had been full of white flowers the day you exchanged vows, promising each other eternity, they had unfortunately succumbed to the drier air. 

“That was a fun day, huh?”

Your startled body jolted with alarm and the usual ease that filled you when you realized it was only Jaehyun behind you was nowhere to be found. He was the evil you’d been searching for, hiding in plain sight. 

He had you fooled. He made you think that he was somebody he wasn’t. Worst of all, you believed him. You trusted him, completely and utterly. You were willing to give him all of you at the drop of a dime. 

“Stay back. I’ll hurt you,” you threatened, posing the pitchfork in your sweaty hands. 

Emotion flickered over Jaehyun’s face; amusement. “A pitchfork? That’s really medieval, don’t you think?”

Your tone darkened, “I’m warning you.”

Jaehyun stepped closer, leaving himself open and vulnerable. “Then, do it. I’m right here. I have no weapon,” he said, holding his hands above him. 

Panic settled in. It occurred to you that your feelings for Jaehyun would never let him hurt you unless your own life was threatened, and for some reason, you believed that Jaehyun would never hurt you. He had all of the opportunities. Yet he had never a finger on you. 

Plus you still needed answers. For yourself, and for the people whose lives were taken because of them. Tears stinging your eyes again and a shattering echoing out in your heart, you tossed the pitchfork aside and roared, “I hate you!”

“That isn’t true,” Jaehyun said, gentle and tender. His voice was loving, but his eyes were soulless. “You love me. I make you happy.”

You shook your head vigorously. “I’ve spent the past couple of hours in distress, all because of you. Why? What’s really going on, Jaehyun?”

“At the end of the day, the piano calls, and I answer. The responsibility skipped my father, but it’s what my grandfather did. I didn’t have a choice,” Jaehyun said, wholly convinced that this was some god-given obligation. 

And you were having none of it. It was just excuses. “That doesn’t make sense. You killed all of those people because of a fucking piano?”

“This is why I couldn’t tell you. I knew that you wouldn’t understand. You have to live it to know.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” you seethed, stepping away from him.

Jaehyun didn’t follow. He was comfortable standing there and watching you, because he knew you had nowhere to run. “This isn’t a regular piano. It hands out curses like candy. It’s an entity and to prevent itself from being destroyed, it chooses its protectors.”

The whole world was spinning. Was he trying to tell you that the piano was alive or something? 

“He was the chosen protector - my grandfather, I mean. Like I said, it skipped my father and went to me. The piano gives anyone that touches it one of two curses to protect itself. I only enforce that fate.”  

The world around you was starting to blur. Jaehyun didn’t see those corpses as people. Instead, he saw them as curses that needed to be removed. 

Standing required too much extra strength that you didn’t have. You stumbled and staggered, weakening by the second, and when you started to head for the ground, Jaehyun caught you in his strong arms. “Careful. You might get hurt.”

He was perfectly composed while everything as you knew it was falling apart, piece by fucking piece. Glancing into his eyes, you hissed, “What are the curses?”

“Hm?”

“You said that when someone touches the piano, they get one of two curses. What are they?”

“Death,” Jaehyun said as normal as ever. “Or perpetuity. They have to live their worst fear until the day that they croak.”

You didn’t think that you could get any angrier, but that didn’t even begin to describe the sharp pain heating your whole body up to hell. “You let me touch that piano, you encouraged me to, knowing I would immediately be cursed.”

Jaehyun saw where you were going with this and replied coolly, “If I knew you were going to die, I would’ve kept you away from it.”

“So you knew I would’ve been cursed with perpetuity,” you said in an accusing tone. “Meaning you knew my biggest fear.”

“I might’ve exploited my power. Your every nightmare revolves around me. You’re so scared of me it keeps you awake at night. I had to use that to my advantage. I can’t lose you.”

And there it was. The ugly truth on a silver platter. Jaehyun gave you the creeps and instead of trying to prove his innocence to you, he took advantage of your fear, making sure to create a reality where you would never be able to get rid of him for as long as you both breathed.

This was the end. Glancing at the tree where you exchanged vows only earlier this spring, you realized that everything pointed back to Jaehyun. It always had. 

Pulling back from Jaehyun, because you couldn’t stand to touch him, you snapped, “You didn’t chase me, because you knew that in the end, everything led back to you.”

Jaehyun didn’t deny it, chuckling. Like he thought that he was clever. “Why would I chase you when I’ve already bound you to me?”

You physically felt weak and sick. You didn’t want to believe that Jaehyun had somehow manipulated your fate so that you couldn’t leave him. Your only escape was through death. Every shaky exhale you took ached. 

Jaehyun continued, “That’s why your little dreams don’t make sense. It doesn’t matter how far or quickly you run away from me. I will always catch you without trying. I always get what I want and you’ll never slip through my fingers. You’re mine.”

At those words, you wobbled away, but it was more like a vicious drawback. “You killed Giselle and Jungwoo and Ten’s father. Why?”

Like he was incapable, there wasn’t a lick of remorse in Jaehyun’s voice when he replied, “I put Giselle out of her misery. She had the perpetuity curse. No matter how hard she worked, she was going to be doomed to her worst nightmare for the rest of life - dying poor. I only made it happen sooner. It was quick.” 

You felt like regurgitating yesterday’s lunch the longer this conversation happened, but you held it back. 

“Jungwoo had it coming. He didn’t have the curse, unlike his father, but it was obvious that he had a thing for you and it was disgusting. I honestly did him a favor. He doesn’t have to live in pain anymore.”

Had a thing for you? You never got that vibe from Jungwoo. He was polite and respectful, and you treated him likewise. You never thought you would get a man killed for his manners. 

“And the chef,” Jaehyun began, pleasure flickering onto his face for the briefest of seconds, but you swore it was there. “He was just practice and a victim of opportunity. It’s been a minute. I’m rusty.”

“You killed him for no reason,” you spat. 

“It appears that way.”

Your body recoiled with every unpleasant feeling it had to offer. “You killed Jungwoo for no reason, too. He was just a nice guy,” you said through gritted teeth. 

It was like the angrier you got, the calmer Jaehyun stood, taking every one of your metaphorical hits like they were a gentle nudge to the shoulder. “I killed him out of love for you. He wanted what was mine. I had to remind him of his place. He was a nobody.”

Turning away, you decided that you couldn’t look at Jaehyun any longer. You couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. You were upset and disappointed and everything in between. 

Jaehyun’s eyes were fixed to that goddamn tree. “I had no feelings for you at first. Marrying you was just another duty I knew I had to fulfill for my country. It was business. But then we started to get to know each other, and I fell for you.”

“I had feelings for you too,” you croaked, voice shaking with pain. 

Jaehyun was quick to add, “You still do. Don’t you see what I did for you? I turned you into royalty.”

“I never fucking asked you to,” you screamed off the top of your lungs. Letting the whole palace hear you for all you cared, if anybody was still alive in there. “I married you because it was what my parents wanted. I just happened to actually like you for a minute.”

“You’ll come around,” Jaehyun said nonchalantly, unfazed by your aggression. “You’ll realize that you were made for me. And you’ll accept that our love was written in the stars.”

There were no stars when you glanced into the night sky. Not even a sliver of the moon. Even she was too ashamed of what was happening under her nose right now and couldn’t bear to witness it unfold. 

But it dawned on you then. The only time you would ever see the moon and her stars again was if you stepped onto the grounds of this very garden. Jaehyun had caught you. You waltzed straight into his trap and now you had to reap what you’d sowed. 

You were his. Whether you liked it or not. You might’ve not ever given up on escaping him, even if it took a lifetime, but for right now, Jaehyun had won. 

“Let’s go, baby,” Jaehyun said, wrapping an arm around your waist. You shuddered. His hands were cold to the touch. “It’s late. We should get ready for bed. We have to stop by the piano so that you don’t have bad dreams.”

The walk to Jaehyun’s grandfather’s bedchamber was quieter than it had ever been. You kept him at arm’s length, ashamed. And maybe a little fearful. 

And there the piano stood in its glory when the door opened, untouched and unmoving. She was evil as ever, wallowing in her curse. Your fingers ran across the keys as the curse wrecked through your blood, present and constant. 

“I’ll never forgive you for this,” you whispered, glancing up at Jaehyun. 

For the first time in a minute, Jaehyun smiled. He replied sweetly, “Darling, it’s okay. You’ll understand soon. We only have each other now.”

You didn’t want to know what that meant. Instead, you pressed your fingers to the bitterly cold keys, squeezing your eyes closed as you played a melody by heart.

Finally, tears started to fall down, gathering on the keys. Then, you realized that you weren’t a victim of sound, but an indulger. Your body was there, but your mind was with nature. With the blowing wind and gentle breezes, the rippling water and swimming critters. 

Your mind was with your friends. With Giselle in the garden, helping her trim branches and plot plants for the queen. With Jungwoo, exploring new places around the palace that you never knew existed. With Ten, rambling about anything and everything under the sun. 

You escaped through every harmonious noise, fingers pacing ruthlessly, and keeping your eyes closed as you pretended that everything was okay. 

Jaehyun came behind you, resting his head on your shoulder while his arms came around you again. His touch was familiar and though it used to keep you whole, when you sat there, defenseless and helpless, you could feel a piece of you break off and die in his arms. 

#jaehyun smut #nct 127 smut #nct smut #jaehyun x reader #nct imagines #jaehyun imagines #jung jaehyun smut #jeong jaehyun smut #nct x reader #nct #nct scenarios

[snowfll]

A Soldier I will Be III; Treech

Pairing - Treech x Mentor!reader summary - after all the pain, the two of you have reached the end of the fight. words - 1.19k warning - fluff! again! note - for everyone who wanted one more part, this is the last part! i hope you guys liked this mini-series for Treech! more Treech fics coming soon and a Tom Blyth fic coming asap <3 part 1 part 2

That same night, the night before the 10th Hunger Games, you arrived at the zoo. With everything he said in that interview, you had to see him. You couldn’t deal with the fact that he might die in that arena without knowing how you felt.

“You came,” he whispered as his hands gripped at the bars that separated the two of you.

You placed your gentle hands over his calloused ones as you responded to him. “Of course I did. I heard what you said in the interview.”

He looked at you and blushed. “Oh, uh-- I didn’t think you were actually watching," he continued to ramble on as you giggled at his reaction. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomf—” You cut him off as your soft lips met his. Ever since you met him, you have had dreams of this exact moment.

Pulling away from the kiss, you rested your forehead against his, smiles on both of your faces. Now you were definitely not letting him die in that arena.

“Is everything you said real?” God, how you prayed it was real. You wanted him more than anything the capital could ever give you.

“Everything… I want to grow old with you. We can run away to District Seven or even stay here in the capital. Whatever you want, sweetie, I just want to be with you.” Your heart ached. You wanted to break him out of the cage right there and then, but you knew it would have consequences.

“Don’t die on me, Treech. Please, do not die in there.” You plead, placing your hands on his face and pulling him closer—if that was even possible. Your lips brushed against his for a moment before you leaned in for the second time that night. His lips smiled against yours before kissing back.

“Two kisses in one night? I feel like I won the games already.” He smirked at you while you playfully pushed his shoulder.

You noticed a couple of peacekeepers making their rounds and knew it was your time to leave, plus he needed as much rest as he could.

“Get some rest; you have a long day ahead of you.” You advised him as he grabbed your hand.

“One last kiss before you go?” He snickered. Did he want a kiss, absolutely. He just got you, and he already couldn’t get enough of you.

“Win the games, and you can get another one." You smirked at him as you kissed his cheek. He rolled his eyes at you as you waved goodbye. He was going to win—he needed to win for you.

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Sitting in your designated seat, you watched as the games played out. It had been days, and thankfully, he was still alive. Maybe allying with Coral was a good thing; maybe he had an actual chance of surviving.

Earlier in the games, Treech and his allies were seen walking over to where his district seven partner was hiding away. Coral ordered Treech and Tanner to stay put and watch as she and Mizzen climbed onto the beam. Poor Lamina; all she had was Treech, and he abandoned her.

He looked guilty as he watched his allies attack the girl he came with. As her body fell off the beam, you saw a small tear escape from his eye before he wiped it away.

Now, they were after Lucy Gray; you just prayed she would be able to get rid of them before they got to Treech. Watching the singer run from the group, you knew she had a plan—a plan that might get Treech free from his allies.

You had a feeling he might actually win, like he promised you he would. There was hope, something you don’t usually have while living in the capital.

However, the hope soon disappeared as you watched as a huge cylinder was placed down from the sky. Whatever was in there was making its way out. The glass had broke, and hundreds, possibly thousands, of rainbow-colored snakes spewed over the arena.

One. Two. Three — three tributes were killed by the snakes, leaving Treech and one other girl, Lucy Gray. The both of them began to climb onto the ruins in the arena, with Treech on one side and the girl on the other.

The snakes began to slither their way up the ruin, inching closer and closer to the two remaining tributes. Before you knew it, the snakes got the the poor girl, the sound of a cannon booming, signaling her death. He did it. Treech won.

Yet he was still in the arena, the snakes crawling over him as he sat there, not moving a muscle. Why was he not being rescued?

“Let him out; he won!" you yelled to whoever would listen. Everyone was silent. Turning your head, you saw Coriolanus staring you down. He was pissed that you won instead of him. Still, you walked over to him; you had to get Treech out, and you hoped what you were about to do would work.

"Please, Coriolanus, I will give you the money; just tell them to get him out of there.” You whispered to him, knowing that Dr. Gaul took a liking to him and would listen. You didn’t care for the prize money; you were never doing it for the prize—you just wanted Treech to live.

Coriolanus nodded to you, yelling for them to save him from the snakes. By now, everyone in the crowd of students and parents had joined in, chanting for them to let him out as more and more snakes made their way onto his body.

“Ladies and Gentlemen." was heard over the loud sound system. “The 10th annual Hunger Games victor.” You let out a sigh of relief as you saw peacekeepers make their way into the arena, shooting at the snakes. They got him out as soon as possible, and you ran—all the way to the arena, you needed to see him.

As you arrived, you saw him being carried out on a stretcher. Making your way up to him, you noticed the condition he was in. He was no longer wearing his jacket, nor was his hat lying on his head. There were cuts and bruises all over his body.

“Hey, hey, you won." You grabbed his hand, squeezing as a way to reassure him that you were with him. He was going in and out of consciousness, but he was fighting to stay awake for you.

“Is it over?" He whimpered as they placed him in the van.

You nodded your head as you replied, “It is; you are finally going home.”

“What about you, sweetie?” He was afraid he wasn’t going to see you again. That you were going to stay in the capital; after all, you were still a capital sweetheart, and he was just a lumberjack.

"Sorry…" you paused as you stood next to his bed, holding his face in your hands. “I meant to say we--are going home.” He smirked at you, placing his hand over yours before speaking up.

“Can I get that kiss now?”

#treech #treech tbosas #treech x reader #i love treech #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas x reader #the hunger games #tbosas #tom blyth #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #imagine #fluff #part 3/3 #district 7 #lumberjack boy #x reader #female reader #happy ending

[marvelmymarvel]

Revivals and Regrets

Madara Uchiha x Senju!Reader

Synopsis: With all of the Hokage's resurrected to help fight against the evils of Madara and Obito Uchiha, the oldest Senju has a brilliant idea to deal with Madara - and it just so happens to be reviving you... Much to Tobirama's disapproval.

A/n: I have not seen the Fourth Ninja War arc so this is (most likely) NOT accurate. But enjoy it anyway ;)

Naruto Masterlist: Here

Like always, Madara's presence was an issue and Hashirama was beginning to see how screwed they all were if he wasn't taken care of soon. He glanced at Tobirama who snarled down at the way Madara slaughtered the ninjas one by one without breaking a sweat. He hated him so much... And that fact alone made Hashirama fear what he would say once he voiced his crazy idea.

"We should revive Y/n"

Tobirama's head snapped to his older brother. For a split second, his eyes held shock and fear, but it quickly morphed into hatred. It wasn't that he hated you; Hashirama knew that.

It was something much darker than that.

"Are you insane? Why in the world would we resurrect our little sister?!" Tobirama spit out, causing the group around them to stare in confusion at what was happening. The third Hokage, however, knew why the second was so angry. Except, it wasn't anger. Sure it sounded like anger and felt like anger, but it was one thing and one thing alone.

Regret.

Tobirarma deliberately drove Madara out of the village, breaking your poor, innocent heart. He believed you would get over it and find someone else to love, but what he didn't plan for was you running away. Upon hearing that you had left, Tobirarma sent ANBU officers after you. While he was worried they wouldn't find you, the second he laid eyes upon your dead body, he wished they hadn't found you at all.

He didn't sleep for months.

"Tobirama, I know you don't want to face her, but she's our only hope-"

Tobirama scoffed, eyes rolling as he looked back down to the ninja being massacred below. Upon seeing just how few men were left, his gaze softened. Face his worst fear? Or let everyone die? Tobirama's eyes fell to his feet as the tears bubbled along his lashline. "Tobirama"

"Fine. Revive her"

Silence filled the space around him, his chest growing tight as he realized what he had just permitted. He managed to avoid you in the afterlife but he wasn't going to be able to run from you here. He turned back to watch the fighting below, but his eyes slammed shut as Hashirama chanted the jutsu out into the night air. Maybe if he just kept his eyes closed he could ignore you.

That wouldn't work though, he knew that.

A piercing screech sounded out causing his plan of being unavailable emotionally to fly out the window. He chanced a glance behind him, eyes open and wide at what he saw. The shrill cry that snapped him out of it was indeed flying from your lips, and your pained face made him want to die a thousand deaths. When someone is resurrected, they have the same feelings as the moment they died. Meaning that if you died a painful death and were revived, you would immediately feel that pain upon resurrection.

It would go away, once you realized you were no longer in pain, but hearing the sound you would have made in your last moments on earth made Tobirama want to run for the hills.

Hashirama wrapped his arms around you, coos flying from his lips as he tried to ease you into the living world. Tobirama couldn't stop himself, his body turning fully to face you and your confused state. Tears were streaming down your face, hands grasping at your neck as you fought for air. Your killers had slit your throat, making the image before him sicker than it would have been if he was free from that knowledge.

He did this to you.

Tobirama watched cautiously as you slowly began to take in your surroundings and the way Hashirama was holding you - Hashirama was always a better brother to you than he was. Tobirarma didn't have many regrets in his life, but all of them related to you.

~Your POV~

Your eyes wandered, searching for something in the crowd. What was it that you needed? The one thing you thought of before you died... You wouldn't remember until you saw-

Your face visibly softened, eyes widening as you took a shaky step towards him - your white-haired brother that you had been avoiding in the afterlife out of fear that he hated you. "Tobi?" you whispered. You could tell he wasn't expecting this outcome, what with how his eyebrows shot up in shock. You opened your mouth to say something, but the commotion below finally hit your ears and quiet mind, oh... You were revived for a reason.

You took in a sharp inhale of breath eyes widening as you raced towards where Tobirama was standing, but your eyes were no longer on him. If you could have died again from happiness, you would have. "Madara!" you cried out, mouth curving up into a loving smile.

"That's why we revived you, Y/n... We need your help with him"

Your head shot back to Hashirama, who was just as bewildered as Tobirama was - he knew you'd be excited to see Madara again. However, he was still reeling over your reluctance to run to Tobirama. They couldn't deny it, though. If Madara wasn't there, you would have indeed run to your brother. "Y/n," the white-haired man breathed out shakily. Now that you were here before him, the regrets came flooding back in. He should have let you marry the Uchiha, should have let you run away with him. But he was selfish.

He was the cause of your death.

Your mouth slammed shut, a frown replacing your smile as you gazed at the white-haired man behind you. The both of you took a deep breath.

"I'm so sorry"

Both of your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the other's apology. Hashirama's eyes flicked between the two of you before he rolled them. Stepping forward, he placed his hands on both of your shoulders.

"I'll spell this out since we don't have time. Tobirama, Y/n is sorry for running away and disgracing the clan. Y/n, Tobirama is sorry for banishing Madara and being the cause of your death" The eldest hoped that the explanation would do, but it only seemed to have caused more confusion.

Silence filled the air before you both proclaimed: "You aren't a disgrace" and "You weren't the cause of my death" to each other. Hashirama sighed; if the two of you had just worked this out in the afterlife, they wouldn't be in this situation-

"We do not have time for this!!!"

Your eyes traveled to a blonde boy who couldn't have been older than 17. You scoffed playfully before throwing a look at the fourth Hokage, "Your kid, I presume?" He nodded sheepishly before scolding the teen, reminding him about who he was talking to. "He's got that Uzumaki fire... I will say..."

"HEY!"

"Enough." Hashirama hissed out, stopping Naruto's anger in its spot. Hashirama gripped your shoulder harder, "Can you help us stop him? I fear he will only listen to you... After all, all of this is for you."

Your eyebrows furrowed. "For me? I didn't ask for this". The silence that followed made your stomach flip.

"Madara... He was so heartbroken upon hearing of your death that he waged war on the village. He managed to rope Obito Uchiha into this war. Obito similarly lost the love of his life, so it was easy for Madara to manipulate him."

You let out a groan at Hashirama's words. Of course, this was for you. This was Madara, after all. "Did my fan come with me?" your question flew back towards the group near where you were resurrected. There was a commotion as they scrambled to look for it, but a sigh of relief fell from your lips when one yelled that your fan did indeed come with you.

You muttered a 'thanks' as the shinobi handed you the weapon. The same weapon you'd use when sparring with Madara. It was rather funny when you thought of it, your ninjutsu being wind and Madara's being fire. But it worked.

Depending on how you use it, it could extinguish the flames or intensify them. You two were a match made in heaven. A smile once more grazed your lips as you cracked your neck and jumped on the balls of your feet, trying to pump yourself up for what would surely be a heated exchange.

But it wouldn't be of malice. Oh no, this would be of love.

"Oh Gods, how I love him," you breathed out, heart hammering as you felt the love and ecstasy fill every crevice of your body. The shinobis were quiet around you, eyes widening as they took in your growing excitement to be reunited with him. Was this Uchiha such a bad guy? He was destroying the world in your name... He was destroying the world in the name of love. It was then, as they watched your lips part, that he wasn't an evil man.

He was a love-sick one.

"MADARA"

The fighting paused for a second, and your eyes locked with his. Everyone gasped as the air shifted from malevolence to adoration within seconds of the name leaving your lips. Not wanting to waste another moment, you hopped down from the cliff, heart soaring as you counted the seconds until you'd be in his arms again.

Madara raced towards you, no longer killing the shinobi that got in his way. Instead, he pushed them off. His only thought was you. He wanted you, no - NEEDED you.

And he is finally going to have you.

Your landing shook the ground; knees bent as you caught your breath. But you barely had a moment to stand fully as Madara swooped you into his embrace. The shinobi seemed to stop chasing him and stood confused at the soft display in front of them. Was this the same man they were fighting seconds ago? Were you his weak spot??

One shinobi moved, mind set on slaughtering you, but Madara shot a glare his way, daring him to proceed. The fear that coursed through him made him stop, and it finally clicked.

This was all for you.

Your hand forced Madara to look at you again, "No more fighting, I'm here now" Madara nodded at your words. The war now meant nothing to him, not with you being beside him again. "I can't stop Obito..." he whispered in slight shame. He hated disappointing you, and he was afraid that this would cause you to hate him, but the smile rising on your lips told him otherwise.

"They'll handle him... Why don't we go spar? We have a lot to catch up on... My love"

#madara uchiha imagine #madara uchiha imagines #madara uchiha x reader #tobirama senju #hashirama senju #naruto imagine #naruto imagines #naruto

[alicerosejensen]

Mistake

Warning: death of the reader; indirect mention of Leon's infidelity.

This is a re-posting since my account was blocked on the same day I posted this.

It was a mistake to let you go alone. It was a mistake to believe that a stupid trip would end well and you would return to his house unharmed. And that was his mistake.

Leon holds you in his arms and the noble ladies from the old portraits look disapprovingly at the one he dared to save. You can feel his firm grip on your hip and under your armpit as he carries you to the evacuation site with a pale, cold-blooded face down which tears are flowing. What should he feel besides the searing pain in his chest from just your bloody appearance? Through the veil you hear his strangled wheeze and quiet orders not to dare to die. His fingers dig deeper into your once tender skin when you feel the cool breeze blowing under your dirty white shirt, the only thing left for you besides underwear. The hair was tangled because of blood and dirt, but for Leon it was all so unimportant. He kept carrying you to save you, promising himself that you wouldn't die.

Not having the strength to scream, you would like to regret your last stupid quarrel because of which you left him because of the influx of stupid jealousy. But you just didn't have the strength to go back to your sad life anymore. Leon's jacket still warmed your body, but the stopped heart suggested that you left this world plunging into a dark space, black as the night itself, thickened in the sky where there is no longer any heat, heat, pain or abyss.

It's a nice strange feeling when death enchants you.

And now you are like a fallen petal of a rare flower, floating between the seasons. If either of you understood each other well, you and Leon would never have parted. But when Leon, after a few shouts of your name, squeezes you in his arms, he realizes that you have gone limp… his heart stops.

You left him alone. Sad and lonely.

"Don't you dare die!" Leon is screaming out of breath, trying to get your heart to beat again. As if, having heard him somewhere from the outside, you felt such pity for him. He put so much effort into finding and saving you. All the last few months of imprisonment were like a requiem before a fateful finale without a happy ending. Leon hugs you to his chest, trying to share his warmth; kisses your thin wrists and dirty face to return to your embrace and kind love. This feeling of hopelessness in his chest was never like what he experienced when Simmons attacked Ada.

He realized that he had lost you.

"Sweetheart" Leon tucked his blood-soaked hair behind his ear. Your hand is in his. Sticky and cold where the wrist does not feel the pulse. "forgive me..."

It was your ticket to hell. With all these terrifying bloody rides for a stupid girl who knows how to hold a gun, just because at the beginning of the relationship Leon took the liberty of taking you to the shooting range. No physical or psychological training. Even if you hadn't died, your brain would have turned into a recurring nightmare for the rest of your life. Fortunately, like any attraction, everything tends to end, and the road to hell led you to the gates of paradise with a white ocean, cool water and complete silence where a small flimsy boat was ready to take you to the other shore.

To your personal paradise. In which there are no mutated monsters, no blood, no pain from wounds, no deaths, no Leon Scott Kennedy, who previously broke your heart.

You've seen enough to make the desire to live leave you, but Leon kept trying to make your heart beat with useless indirect heart massage. You went to the deep bottom, as if she had never been with him and did not love him. Leon's tears are dripping on your cheeks, laying clean paths, washing away dirt and blood from you. The human brain lives for about five minutes after death and your precious seconds are almost running out. This man tore you into a thousand pieces and now he's holding you to him, but it should have been done before. The eternal scarlet sunset would never have caught up with you if the day before your trip and on the day of the quarrel Leon grabbed you in his arms, chaining you to him with hot hugs without letting you go anywhere.

This horror could have been prevented.

But when you were thrown like a mangy puppy, he cherished his love for Ada Wong. No one knows what happens in those last moments when the soul leaves the body, but that very last second of your life without hearing or seeing him, you wanted him to be as hurt as you were when you found out the truth.

One single second before your feet dipped into the water and you got into the boat, and your wish was fulfilled…

You died in the middle of the night, despite the fact that you loved him very much anyway. Every creature has a mate but you don't have anything else. Let anyone but you be Leon's mate from now on. Before that ill-fated quarrel, you could even die for him, only Leon would quickly move away from your unnecessary sacrifice.

How monsters surrounded you from all sides and the light of your soul was extinguished forever. Then why did you continue to love his light half-smile and the expensive suit in which you first met him until the end? It is always cold outside, but inside of which sabantuy is raging. Leon is a man who often contradicted himself and you're just unlucky that he didn't dare to push you away.

There was no point in saving you anymore, but Leon continued to carry your body, pressing it closer to him, as if you were just unconscious and his legs were failing him, as if you were an unbearable burden, although before he always carried you lightly in his arms. He won't have a chance at redemption and he'll always live with the guilt of your death. But if you were alive, Leon thinks that you would be sarcastic to him right now, like Ada would be able to comfort him. And Leon is angry even though he knows it's stupid. You're silent in his arms.

He doesn't care how dirty you are. He kisses your face, squeezing your wrists tightly and for some reason trying to warm you up. His lips will imprint a kiss between eyes, temples, cheeks and lips themselves, leaving him a salty taste of blood. Leon catches you comfortably so that his jacket does not fly off you. your face is pressed against his shoulder, but he's not looking anymore. He thinks that maybe there will be a first aid kit in the helicopter from which there will be no sense. And even when they're taken away, Leon doesn't give you to anyone. He strokes your hair, begging the medic in his team to do something, but she looks at him with an indifferent look and then at the gaping wound on your chest and is silent, realizing that their captain has in fact already brought a corpse.

But in the end, you still end up in a corpse bag where they put you right away, taking you out of Leon's hands. No matter how he tried to take you back, he was not allowed. You didn't have time to see the sunlight and Leon feels like he let you down. Did not save. Shouted at the doctors, shouted at those who without regret stuffed you into this black cloth with a lock hiding from him like those scoundrels who ruined you. And then when everyone cooled down, he was simply confronted with the fact.

If dead, then the body belongs to forced sterilization.

But Leon won't even get your ashes... as if you kept torturing him while he drowned his pain in a bottle, breaking all the glasses. He kept your chiffon scarf close to him on purpose so he could smell you. His weakness... he just wanted you around again.

And all because of one damn mistake he made.

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #reader #female reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #resident evil leon #resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy resident evil #leon #leon kennedy angst #leon x you #dead reader #re #angst

[thegoblinboy]

Never Say Die [2]

| Part one | you are here | part 3 | part 4

Everyone seemed to want a part two… so here’s another part! (Also name title comes from a Black Sabbath song lol)

Steve took a few steps in the house. His hands shook as he barely could see through the shirt that was over his face. Concealing his identity from the neighbors. He knows that Hopper and Joyce’s intentions were positive, but his mind was playing tricks on him. For a split second he was back in Russia, blind fold over his eyes as he’s being dragged from a van. Still in his sailer suit. Blood all over his face, the ashes of star-court still lingering on him. Not even given the chance to wash them off on the flight here.

Though When the blindfold is pulled off he’s in the doorway of a very nice home, not in the middle of a Russian cell. He can feel his body shaking a bit from the memory. Before he takes a shaky breath, closing his eyes. All of this seemed a little to easy. What if he was making it all up in his head? What if he was currently in a cell right now losing his mind. He wouldn’t put it past himself. He has had dreams so real about returning home before, to only wake up and get the shit beat out of him.

Hoppers quick to stand in front of him. Protecting him. Steve’s eyes snap open quickly, tears slowly forming in his eyes when he realizes what the older man is doing. It’s been a while since someone’s protected him, and not the other way around. Sure, once upon a time in the prison someone did protect him. But that barely lasted a couple of days before the guy disappeared in the middle of the night. Now Steve knew he fought a demogorgan and lost.

“Mom, what’s going on?” It’s Will’s turn to voice his concern. Steve can’t see him through Hoppers back but he knows how his face is pinched up. Joyce, who was currently standing next to Steve smiles shakily. Tears in her eyes, light footsteps moving fast across the wooden floor start to come in their direction.

“Will, everything’s fine. It’s just.. a surprise guest dropped in. A good surprise. “ Joyce explains putting her hand up. Gesturing for the other to stop. Which is what immediately happens. “Why don’t you go back and tell everyone to go gather in the living room. Let them know we’ll be out in a second.” Joyce instructs. Moving forward out of Steve’s sight. Who can already picture her smoothing the boys hair, wrapping her arms around Will in a comforting manner. Something he’s seen thousands of times and has always envied.

“And tell them, if any of them even think about stepping out of that living room I’ll make sure no one’s allowed to play that Dogs and Donuts game.” Hoppers voice is stern. Steve was standing behind him and it was bringing the fear of god into him. Though he has to hold back laughter because he knows the guy was purposely getting the name wrong.

A few footsteps and seconds past and he can hear Will in the living room. Voices starting to echo through the walls as both of the adults. Who were very concerned, pull Steve into the kitchen. Joyce is already pulling food out for him. Setting a plate on the table within seconds. He hesitates, before he’s moving and awkwardly sitting down. Eyes skimming the room. A habit of his that he’s picked up. Within seconds he already knows where he can exit quickly if it was needed.

“How are you alive?” Hopper asks first, getting straight to the point. Moving and leaning on the table as he looks at Steve with that serious expression again. The same one he held in interrogation rooms.

Steve chuckles shakily, “Russian Prison.” He answers simply before he’s wolfing down his food. He’s sure he was going to throw it up in a little bit anyway. It’s been a long time since he’s had home cooked food. His stomach was already shifting uncomfortably from how much he was eating. “I didn’t die during the explosion thingy, I hopped down and well. Here I am. Woke up in a van in the middle of Russia later on and found my way back home. In quick summary.” Steve explains quickly. Body tense at even the mention of the prison. Thankful for the fact Hopper knew when to back down from something like this. Eyes filled with concern.

“How do you want to do this?” He asks changing the subject.

“We can pull them one at a time in here and have them see you?” Joyce tosses the idea out there.

“No. Just want to rip it off like a bandaid. Get it all done and over with. I cant-” Steve says shakily. Dropping the fork on the plate as he stares down at the table. “I can’t choose who I want to see first. I want to see them all at once or none at all.” He admits. Moving his eyes up to challenge Hopper. Unsure whether or not they were going to allow him to see them. There shouldn’t be doubt in his mind, but there was just a smidge. Hard to trust anyone anymore. He barely knew the two adults in front of him. Only a few awkward conversations in the past.

“Alright… you ready?” Hopper asks. Moving to stand properly. Not even bothering to battle whatever imaginary war that was in Steve’s head. Steve was not ready, he never would be. He moves standing up. Left arm holding his side as he nods his head. Moving to follow the other. Hearing the hushed panicked voices in the living room. A couple curse words following along with them.

Before Steve can get a step in Joyce is stopping him. “Hold on, let me give them a warning.” She smiles softly before turning and moving into the living room. That was still mostly bare from the move in. Steve shakily crosses his arms over his chest as he tries to focus on breathing. He didn’t want to freak out to much while everyone was. He had to be the emotional rock. He looks down at the floor, not wanting to look up at Hopper. Faintly listening to Joyce begin to ramble right behind him.

“So… this wasn’t planned at all. It’s news to me.” She sounded like she was crying already. “But- this person. You aren’t expecting him and I know some of you are going to be excited to see him but he has some injuries. So maybe try not to jump him or overwhelm him.” Joyce warns. Everyone’s already starting to ask questions all at once. “I’m serious guys. He came from god knows where, doing god knows what.” She says finally hushing the crowd down.

Steve finally gets his signal from Hopper. His hands were shaking as he moves. Carefully limping a bit to the doorway. One hand on his side as he leans on it. Eyes landing on everyone in the room. Searching for Dustin and Robin. “Where’s Henderson?” Is his first question. Eyes squinting trying to see, his vision wasn’t nearly as good as what it used to be. Along with the fact he could barely hear out of his right ear. But thanks to the amazing government he was able to get a hearing aid fitted.

He knew that everyone was going to be shocked, but the way everyone’s faces go white makes a shiver go up his spine. All color leaving the room with the acceptation of Eddie and the boy with long silky hair. Both who didn’t know him. Steve’s looking around the group, to many faces and reactions overwhelming him before he sees Dustin throwing himself at him. Moving away from Eddie, who was stunned by how fast the kid could move.

Before he could tackle Steve, Hoppers catching him as says something. Dustin’s already in tears as he moves more carefully as he still hugs him. Steve’s hands shakily wrapping themselves around him, only taking a second before he’s tightly hugging the boy. Squeezing his eyes shut as he feels like one of the numerous missing pieces was just placed in his heart. He didn’t realize how much he missed the little shit until now.

“I watched you die.” Dustin sobs, body shaking in Steve’s arms. Steve feels like a leaf, he’s close to falling from the effort to keep them both up. He’s in tears himself, when he catches the green of his letterman jacket walking in from the other side of the room. Coming from the bathroom most likely.

“What’s happening?” Robins voice is loud and clear as she looks at everyone. Not given a chance to process Steve standing in the walkway.

“Didn’t figure you to be a basketball jock there buck.” Steve laughs softly. Watching as it all hits her as well. And she’s already sprinting, squirming out of Hoppers reach as she nearly tackles Steve and Dustin.

“Ow ow ow, I think you guys just turned my lungs to dust.” He gasps in pain. Both of them stepping back from him as he nearly falls. Holding his side, as he try’s to steady his breathing.

“Here let’s get you sitting.”

Steve nods his head as he moves to Joyce, who’s concern was only peaking. Leaning on her a bit as she helps him to the empty spot on the couch. Which was right next to Eddie. He’s coughing a little, lungs burning from the pain in his side. A shaky inhale of air as he looks at the other curiously. Before his eyes move to land over on the boy with silky hair who was watching him confused.

“Hey.” He chuckles awkwardly lifting his hand up as the boy smiles waving back at him.

“This- this is Argyle.” Jonathan pops in. Looking anxious at the sight of him. Nancy looked like she was a goldfish.

“Hey wheeler.” Steve chuckles, not caring about her what’s so ever. Who he cared about the most were both standing in front of him now. Nearly hyperventilating. He opens his arms out a bit, “come on you dorks. Be careful of the stitches though. I am not redoing them again.” He laughs as they both move carefully. Robin in his lap curling in on his chest. He moves getting comfortable, the exhaustion getting the best of him as he offers a arm for Dustin who was also seeking some comfort. His eyes and nose were burning from the effort of holding back tears.

“No offense but you look like shit, and I can barely see.” Max tosses in. Standing up now to get a better look at him.

Steve snorts, “I can barely see or hear and you sound and look like shit kid.” He says amused. Earning a snort. “What happened to you?” He asks curiously.

“Vecna.”

He freezes. Everybody was looking at him as he glances around, “wait the big cone head looking dude with the ET fingers?” Steve asks. He hadn’t realized that he had made it to Hawkins within the time he was away. He’s gotten hints, even seen him once. Drawings of what he looked like up on the Russian walls. From his understanding he created a portal, to trade demogorgans for the life of the prisoners. Which was apparently how he got so strong to be able to finally reach his way to Hawkins and use his powers without needing the person physically in the upside down.

“You know who Vecna is?” Eddie asks, speaking for the first time. His voice is wavering a bit as he does.

“Well that’s not what me and the prisoners called him. But yeah. We were wondering why he stopped… well snapping our bones like twigs for.” He admits.

“Prisoners?” Is the question everybody all say at once. He winces as he tries to stay relaxed. He was starting to get overwhelmed. As much as it was a relief to see all of them it was getting a little to much.

“Yeah, Russians don’t take to kindly to someone ruining one of their bases.” He chuckles dryly. “Can we- um change the subject.” He winces as he moves a hand up to his head. Feeling a migraine forming. His head hasn’t been the same since he was near that radiation shit in the mall. He blinks as he feels a random nose bleed starting to hit him. Feeling dizzy Robin and Dustin hop off from him when he starts to shake more while underneath them. El moving and offering him a tissue with a knowing look. His hands shakily take the paper, confused as to why she would be looking at him like that. It was just a random nose bleed, he wouldn’t be shocked if he got radiation poison or something.

He moves back into the couch after a second of wiping his nose, completely worn out. Blinking at the effort it was taking him just to stay here mentally. His eyes meet Joyce’s who was already getting Hopper on it. “You look exhausted hon, why don’t you go get some rest in our room.” She smiles as he nods. Moving, his legs begin to shake as he holds the bloody tissue to his nose. Walking the way Hopper wanted him to.

Unaware but fully aware at the same time of the amount of eyes that were on him.

So… I only had a few scenes that I really wanted to write for this. This was one of them. The next part I also really wanted, and I don’t know how I’m separating each part. I’m used to writing 10k word chapters so this is kind of like fresh air lmao. So I’m just writing to relief some stress as I graduate in less then a week 🥳 I just didn’t expect so many people to also want to read this.

Though, I would like to say if you like the idea of Steve disappearing and coming back out of nowhere I do have another fic called Bark at the moon! (Sorry self plug) it’s on a pined post on my account and the link leads you to ao3! (It’s werewolf steve fic and he does disapear😉) ok self plug over. Thank you guys for showing so much interest! It means the world to me!

Tag list; I tagged everyone who seemed interested! Let me know If you want to be added :)

@totallynotagoraphobic @flustratedcas @shunna @spookednsaucy @steddie-as-they-go @estrellami-1 @xxbottlecapx @gregre369 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thing-a-ling @radioactiveartz @bestwifehaver @idkwwhatimmdoiing @goodolefashionedloverboi @bringmethelow @thescribblerdragon @starman-jpg @lilaclilyroses @resident-gay-bitch @wolfscreations @adhdsummer @victor-thee-corvid @happymediummm @decadentworld @sidebarre @foundintheshallows @jamieweasley13 @yellowdevilkitten @catlovesfandoms @gryffindorsareidiots @thephantomhood

#next part will have more Steddie interaction #promise #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve harrington #bxb #steveharrington #steveddie #eddie stranger things #steve and eddie #Steve harrington was the Russian prisoner instead #Steve harrington needs a hug #don’t you ever take Steve from Robin #Dustin and Steve are like brothers #everyone feels so awkward and in shock about the jock being back #is it obvious

[galacticgraffiti]

I Am Nothing (Like You Thought I Was)

Summary: Astarion changes after his Ascension, and while you hate what he has become, you cannot seem to love him less.

Pairing: Ascendant!Astarion x gn!reader Rating: Explicit (for a few nsfw lines and mature themes) Wordcount: 2.6k Descriptors: Reader is not described in detail, though there is one (1) line implying that they bottom when they have sex. TW: Angst, emotional manipulation, power imbalance, emotionally abusive situation, blood, biting, blood drinking, non-consensual drinking of blood, non-consensual... taking away of bodily autonomy (?)

A/N: Please read the warnings carefully. This is not smut, this is hella angsty and was - at least to me personally - somewhat emotionally taxing. Take care of yourself. If you have any questions, feel free to message me!

Main Masterlist ⋆✦⋆ If you prefer AO3

I Am Nothing (Like You Thought I Was)

━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━

You can’t remember what changed, exactly. It was something in his eyes, perhaps, something about the way he looks at you. The corner of his mouth not forming the half-smile you have gotten so used to, or even the possessive sneers he adopts sometimes.

It has been so long since he looked at you as anything more than his… pet. His pretty little consort, if he is in a good mood.

In the beginning, you didn’t realise that that was what you had become to him: A pet, a companion only because he did not want to be lonely after all these centuries. A trophy he could show off at his dinner parties. His own personal meal, ready whenever and wherever he wants - especially in front of hungry guests who know exactly they could never have you.

Hells, you even enjoyed the thought of it at first: To belong to him entirely - to be his and his alone. Forever.

His fangs have marked you hundreds and thousands of times through the years, and you have borne it willingly. Because you love him.

There is nothing else to say, really. Astarion has just… captured you. He is it for you. You knew it the moment you laid eyes on him, knew it the second he held a dagger to your throat only to apologise and join your mission moments after. You knew it when he bared his back to you, bearing the scars of years of abuse, and of… the Ritual.

Ah, yes. The Ritual.

It changed everything. It changed him. Seven thousand souls, sacrificed - killed - in the name of your love, and all you could think about was that he would finally be free. Sometimes, you think back to that moment, and you try not to feel ashamed that you did not even try to persuade him otherwise.

But you had never seen him as scared as he was the night you faced Cazador. And you had never seen him angrier, either. So when Astarion ripped Cazador from his coffin, when he stabbed and slashed and twisted his sword in the belly of his abuser, you… let him.

He deserved revenge. He deserved to kill him, to be free of him, to never be made to feel small and powerless again.

You liked it. You loved it, even: Loved him, free of torment, bloodied with his eyelids heavy from violence. Because you thought it meant his freedom.

And when Astarion turned to you, face smeared with warm blood, the infernal runes on his back glowing, and his eyes so big and full of bloodlust and fear, you could not say no. When he carved the runes into the back of his tormentor, savouring every scream of agony, you could not say no. You watched, and you loved Astarion all the more for every tear of pain he wrung from Cazador’s wretched body. And you let yourself forget it would not just be Cazador who would die for your love to be free.

The Ritual is by far not the only moment of weakness you have ever afforded yourself throug the years, but it is the one that has changed your life the most.

Seven thousand souls. All for the happiness of your love. All for him, for his freedom and his might, for him to live in the sun and never know hunger again. For him to be able to love you without fear.

Thing is- the Ritual never made him happy. It just made him other.

Astarion looks at you different after the ritual. He looks at you like… he owns you. You don’t realise it in the beginning, not for a long time. His words are sweet as ever, his hands gentle when he touches you. His fangs are sharp but his lips are soft, and he calls you his pretty little thing and his love. He calls you His, and you take it to be an affirmation of love, not one of ownership.

Eventually, though, you start to understand what he really means. It starts to sink in when you deny him, and he talks of still taking what he wants. When you disagree, and he does not hear you out. When your neck is covered in bruises, and you still don’t find it in yourself to deny him. Because even with the blood of seven thousand souls dripping from his hands, even with the way his eyes turn cold when he looks at you, even with the things he asks you to do and the kind words he used to have so many of growing few and far between, you cannot stop loving him.

And so you stay, through the cruelty and the ecstasy, through the nightly soirées and the everchanging guests of the palace, through the dark masses and the bloodlust. The joy of his kisses is enough to keep you chained in place without needing to lock you up.

You remember how he used to be: scared and alone, eager to manipulate if only to save himself, because no one else had ever looked out for him.

You remember what he became as you travelled together: kind and thoughtful, even though he kept pretending like he wasn’t. Sweet and caring, protective and assured. How much he overcame to love you, and surely that must be worth something, mustn't it?

When you look at the man that stands in front of you now, in all his glory, bathed in the light of his Ascension, you decide that he is still worth staying for. Every time.

You sit next to him, you offer your neck to him, your wrist, your thighs and your shoulders, wherever he can reach, though he does not hunger for your blood as he used to. But he likes showing off, and you are his favourite trophy.

You can’t say how long you have lived in Cazador’s palace. Years, maybe.

Astarion takes you to bed every night, to drink from you, to hold you. And that is the thing that keeps you here, with him, even after all this time: He still holds you like he cannot sleep without you, and you are always there when he wakes up from his nightmares, gasping for air, crying out the name of his tormentor, of his long-dead parents and friends. In the darkness of these nights, there is a humanity to him that you cannot find when you look into his eyes in the sunlight that he so craves.

You are not so foolish as to think you could save him. You gave up on that thought long ago, after he made you sit at his feet with your wrists still dripping in blood, just to let it flow down the stairs before his throne and tell the guests of his soirée that they could never have you - that they were not even allowed to lick your blood from the floor - because you were his and his alone.

No, you can’t save him anymore. A small sliver of your soul holds onto the hope that he might… get bored. That he will grow tired of the favours that people ask in exchange for gifts of gold and knowledge, that he will grow tired of sitting in the sun while you read to him. That he will get tired of you. That he will make you leave, because you are not strong enough to do it on your own.

And as Astarion stares at you from across the table, his fangs showing as he curls his upper lip in displeasure, you think that, maybe, you will be so lucky.

You are not.

Astarion’s hand grabs your jaw and tilts your head into the light of the candelabra.

“What’s that?” he asks, and he sounds so disgusted that you nearly start to cry from his words alone. For all the hope you had that he might let you go, you never wanted him to hate you.

“What is what, my love?” The nickname falls easily from your lips, years of habit and a tinge of truth. Your love. For all his mistakes, he is still that.

His finger traces your brow in a surprisingly gentle movement, and your breath catches. But the look in his eye is still one of revulsion and contempt. He pulls at you until you get up to follow him, stumbling through the halls of the manor to stop in front of the big mirror he usually keeps covered. 

The mirror. One of the only things his ascension did not fix: Astarion still can’t see his own reflection. Sometimes, you wonder if he keeps you around just to ask for accounts of his beauty that he will never be able to see.

Dozens of portraits have been made in his honour, the artists killed so they would never surpass their masterpiece: Him. None of the portraits manage to capture his ethereal beauty, the cruel twist around his mouth or the pain that still lingers in his eyes. None of the artists understand him the way he would need to be understood to be painted the way he wants to be seen. The way he wants to see himself. 

You have caught him on bad nights, standing in front of the empty mirror you see before you now, staring into the silver surface with flaming eyes like he could will himself to appear if he only wanted it enough. It has been years since then. Now, he only asks you to describe him to himself, when he is buried deep inside you, when his pale hands glow on your skin in the moonlight, and his fangs are sunk into the bruised flesh of your neck. You excel at it, because after all, one thing is still true: You love him. You understand him in ways nobody else ever could.

The mirror has been covered up for a long time, collecting dust as you assumed its supposed function.

Now, Astarion pulls at the velvet cover, and your mirror image is revealed to you. Astarion’s hand wraps around the nape of your neck as he pushes you closer to the silvery surface.

“What is that?” he asks again, so accusatorily that you shy away from your own reflection. You see nothing out of the ordinary: Your own face, his mirror absence behind you. Maybe your hair is a little messier than you would like, maybe the bruises on your neck more prominent than you would prefer. But you look just like you always do.

Astarion’s finger traces your brow again - and you realise what has him this riled up.

A faint wrinkle, barely visible, stretches across your forehead like a thin, twisted branch. 

You worry too much, as Karlach would have put it. Gods, you haven't seen her in ages. You don't even know if she still lives.

“I-” you set on to explain, though you don’t know what exactly you could say to calm him. When Astarion is in this mood, there is little to do but wait it out. The storm always passes eventually; with sharp fangs slicing your skin or cold hands finding their way beneath your robes to watch you writhe and beg. 

Astarion’s gaze now is colder than it has ever been, and it makes you shiver.

“You are ageing.” He spits the words at you like venom.

“Such is the nature of things, my love.” Your voice is dry with annoyance, but you cannot find it in you to care. What a useless thing for him to lose his mind over.

Astarion’s face glows with the beauty of an anger that is senseless as much as it is boundless. You can barely look at him when he twists you around until you are pressed up against the wall, his body so close to yours you can feel the coldness of his skin. Nothing hurts more than to look at him like this, his red eyes devoid of any affection. He didn't used to look at you like this in the beginning… did he? You can’t remember.

His words are poison, his fingers digging into your throat with every syllable he spits at you.

“No, no no. Not in the nature of me. Not in the nature of my world, the universe I have created.” He is aflame with an anger you have not seen in years. It tugs at your heart. All of a sudden, he looks almost as he did before the Ritual: passionate and full of emotion. It doesn't matter that it’s not affection that sets his eyes aflame. At least it’s not indifference.

Astarion wrinkles his nose in disgust, looking you up and down.

“This… this just won’t do,” he mumbles, tilting his head and eyeing you up and down.

To say your heart leaps in joy would be a lie. It leaps in terror. You know what happens to things Astarion has no use for anymore. They are discarded, and if they used to be alive, they are discarded dead. 

He might make an exception for you, for his consort, his pet, his trophy. But he might not. These days you can never tell.

“I have waited too long,” he whispers, almost like he has forgotten you are even there. His iron grip on your neck loosens, and you twist around, trying to escape his grasp, not to have to look at him anymore. You can’t bear it. You close your eyes and breathe.

When you open your eyes and see how he looks at you, tears fill your eyes at the expression on his face.

There he is.

After all these years of hoping, of waiting and praying to every god, he is standing before you again: Your love, unchanged by the years, eternally beautiful as he already was before his Ascension. His eyes glow red and his fangs are sharp as ever, but his face is delicate and full of fear. You have not seen him like this in… forever.

“I have waited too long,” he says again, sadness dripping heavy from his eyes. “I… We have waited too long.”

His hand runs up your side, caressing your face, and the look in his eyes is so warm that for the first time in years, you don’t feel like you are freezing from the inside out. You bask in his affection.

“What did we wait for?” you whisper as Astarion buries his face in the crook of your neck, his soft lips warm on your chilly skin. He presses against you and you let him, even though the wall is cold and hard behind you, because this is all you have dreamed about for so long. A sign that he is still in there, that he is still capable of loving you the way he used to.

His lips move against the delicate skin of your throat when he answers.

“For you to be ready.”

Your head falls back as his nails rake down your back, and his thigh presses between your legs. Your fingers weave into his silver hair as your breath catches at the warmth in your chest.

“Ready for what?” Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth. The familiar sharpness of his fangs sinking into your skin is no surprise.

“To be mine.” Astarion’s words sear holes into your skin, deeper than his fangs ever could. “Forever.”

You let him push his fingers into your mouth without resistance, your lips parting easily as blood red eyes burn into yours. Astarion smiles a smile that is only fangs and cruelty. 

By the time you feel the world flicker, your consciousness fading into darkness, it is already too late.

You are not only His. You have become His Creation. Forever.

Dive into Angstarion - become insane with me.

@purgetrooperfox @ashotofspotchka @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @ulchabhangorm @queen--kenobi @samspenandsword @pinkiemme @baba-fett @witchklng @ladykatakuri @certified-anakinfucker @fanfiction-i-llike @voidinfernal @foxferret02 @rosieofcorona @savagemickey03 @perseny @margoisthemoon02 @shiiunn @saucyhedgehog @darlingbravebelle @tonysoffice @pupshr00m @midnightdragonzero @thatweebitch @triangleshapewinner @supercalifragilisticprincess @palpipeen @fuckalrighty @meabravo @silly-gooseastarion @mila-bee @shit-i-say-throughout-the-day @idkwhatsgoingonwithme @aeryntheofficial @jekasha @cometstail @beesherbsandivy @gub @codename-indigo @nogitsune-the @solarrexplosion

#astarion #astarion bg3 #angst #astarion x reader #astarion x you #i cannot stress enough that this is not smut #bg3 #gala writes #angstarion

[myeuphoricmindset]

The Afterlife - Eddie x Fem!reader

PART ONE:

Summary | You've been surviving in The Upside Down with Eddie for months and you had one last night with him knowing you both were going to die. But did you? (This story is a part two to my story called: As the world burns. You can find my master list on my page.)

Warnings/Tags | 18+ Unprotected sex, talk about death and world ending, mention of thinking life would be better if reader were dead (not suicide), Comfort Eddie, This one-shot is not about the smut, even though there is a small scene it’s not focused on it so please set your expectations accordingly.

Please let me know if I missed a warning.

Word count | 2.7k

Unfamiliar voices filled the room and you focused on Eddie's voice to feel safe. You’ve never seen Eddie so happy before, his smile is brighter and his laugh is louder.

After Dustin and the young girl with the short hair turned away to give you both privacy to put on clothes Eddie wasted no time hugging them and asking a thousand questions. A group of people busts through the door once El mentions that it’s clear.

“El did it! She killed Vecna and destroyed The Upside down.” Dustin shouts with excitement in his voice as Eddie hugs him for the second time. “We came back because I just had to make sure you weren’t gone. I had to.” Eddie squeezes Dustin harder and you notice tears in Eddie’s eyes before he wipes them away so no one notices.

You look away, giving them a moment. El smiles at you from across the room. She notices your timid stance behind Eddie and she steps closer to you, talking softly. “Hi, I’m El.”

You smile and introduce yourself. Eleven welcomes you and introduces you to the rest of the group as Eddie joins your side and holds your hand. Everyone seems so nice, but the amount of people in the room is overwhelming when you’ve only been around one person for the past few months and before Eddie came along you were completely alone for two months prior. The lack of human contact does something to a person, and it must be showing because everyone looks at you with pity in their eyes.

“I think we need a moment,” Eddie says softly to everyone in the room after glancing at you.

A girl with shoulder-length brown hair looks at you as she stands next to a guy with better-looking hair. She says, “Alright guys, let’s give them a breather.”

“Thanks, Robin,” Eddie says.

“We have food when you both are ready,” A boy says sweetly. He has kind eyes with a hint of sadness and that relaxes you a bit. Eddie says something to him and mentions his name. Will. You say his name in your head as you try to memorize everyone's name.

The bedroom door closes, leaving you and Eddie alone. He pulls you into a hug immediately and you inhale his comforting scent to remind yourself that it’s okay.

“We made it. We are okay. We are alive.” Eddie says in your ear as he squeezes you tighter. You aren’t sure if he’s telling you that or trying to convince himself that this is real. But you’re thankful for it because you need some convincing yourself.

Your eyes scan the room as you stand in Eddie’s arms. It’s the same bedroom, but no blue hue or spores filling the air. It’s not cold or eerie. There is no screeching from the Demobats circling the cabin. The room looks the same, but it’s warm and inviting. The atmosphere is what you remember from life before The Upside. A life that you accepted you’d never see again.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks, cupping your face. Your mouth is dry as you try to form words. Eddie's thumb brushes your cheek as he tries to comfort you. “It’s overwhelming, isn’t it?” You nod and bury your face in his chest. He strokes your hair and kisses your head. “I’m here. We will get through this.” He whispers.

Loud voices and movement from outside the room have you pulling back to look at Eddie. You want to ask him to take you home, but you have no home. The only person you had in the real world was your sister and she died during the boat accident in Lover’s Lake. An accident you think of daily, because if you didn’t follow her into that water and accidentally end up in the open gate then you might have a normal life right now. But this is your life and you have nowhere to go. Eddie has friends and you’re sure he has family and a home to return to. The realization of it all hits you and you try blinking back the tears.

“What now?” You ask faintly.

“We go home.”

“I-I don’t have a home.” You choke out.

You think for a split second that maybe it would have been better to die instead of live because at least you had a potential future with Eddie in the afterlife. But this reality is full of uncertainty. Eddie has a life to return to and you’ve never felt more alone than you do right now.

Eddie wipes your tears and lifts your chin so you meet his gaze. “What is mine is yours. Do you think I’m going to go on living without you? Fuck that. I chose you in death and I’m choosing you in life too. Okay?”

The heavy weight on your chest lifts and you let out a soft sob. “Okay.” You cry. Why did I doubt him? You think to yourself. Eddie leans down and kisses you softly. His lips are soft and so sweet. Your tears run down your face causing the kiss to have a subtle trace of salt in Eddie’s sweet reassurance.

“I can’t wait to show you a life with me without fear. This is the version of me that you always deserved.” Eddie says brushing your hair back from your face.

You shake your head, “I want every version of you. Don’t say that.”

He smiles and nods, trying to believe your words. You think about the time when Eddie told you about his life before The Upside Down and how you would have liked him more if you'd met him back then. You want to laugh or scream because he is everything to you, every version in every parallel universe. He is who he was before and who he is now, and you think he must not realize that he can be both. He’s deserving of love before and after his trauma.

Something you need to remind yourself too…

Eddie breaks your thoughts by kissing you again and then guiding you out of the room. He walks before you as if he’s your shield against a world that you no longer find familiar. You think to yourself that as long as you’re with him then you can overcome anything.

His friends greet you with smiles and welcoming hands as you and Eddie join them in the living room. A hot pizza on the counter almost sends you to your knees since you’ve lived off chips and beef jerky for months.

Maybe living isn’t as bad as you think.

_

“Holy shit it feels good to be home,” Eddie says as he walks around his trailer —his home. A home that he thought was destroyed. He doesn’t know how it’s still standing, but El told him to not ask questions and he didn’t. He has a huge smile on his face as he tells you about his home and about his Uncle Wayne, who Eddie thinks is not here because of work.

Eddie's friends dropped you both off ten minutes ago knowing it’s time for you both to rest before meeting up again tomorrow. You really like his friends and it’s nice to think that eventually, they will be your friends too. Your life here is already starting to slowly rebuild.

You watch Eddie’s fingers run over the fabric of a jacket hanging over the back of the couch. His smile is softer and his eyes are blinking back tears. “I thought I’d never see him again.” He says quietly while looking at Wayne’s jacket.

You come up behind him and hug him. “Welcome home.”

He spins to face you and pulls you into him. “Welcome home to you too.”

Your chest warms at the thought of a place to call home. “What do you think Wayne will think of this?”

“He will probably think you’re my girlfriend that I ran off with for months and he will be pissed.” He smiles at that. “I don’t know honestly. I haven’t figured out what I’m going to tell him, but I think at the end of the day it won’t matter. He will be happy I’m home and he will welcome you without hesitation because that’s what he does.”

You smile at that and rest your head on Eddie’s chest. You notice a huge wall filled with coffee mugs. “So, is that his or your collection?” You point to the shelves and giggle.

Eddie laughs, “Uncle Wayne and those damn mugs.” His brows furrowed as he looked closer. “Wow, he’s added more since I’ve been gone.” That makes Eddie laugh harder. “Jesus H. Christ.” And you both laugh.

“Come on, let’s go rest,” Eddie says.

“Do you think we could shower first?”

Eddie’s eyes go wide with excitement. “A hot shower! Oh, hell yeah.” He grabs your hand and rushes to the bathroom.

For months you and Eddie bathed in pools and ponds. Showers were nonexistent in The Upside Down since there was no running water, so knowing you now have access to showers again feels like a gift from the gods.

You step into the shower with Eddie’s help, his hand outstretched. It’s not unusual to be this close to Eddie. You have been doing everything with him for months and this is normal. Showering with him feels more right than without him. Maybe trauma bonding was a thing?

A moan rolls off Eddie’s lips as the water runs down his back. You smile at the sound and the flutter that fills your stomach. He guides you under the water, making sure you get more coverage than he does.

“Oh my god,” you say as you close your eyes. The warm water spills over your body and it’s the most wonderful feeling. You wonder how you ever lived without a hot shower.

“Feels so fucking good, right?” Eddie says with a laugh.

“So good. Better than sex.”

Eddie lifts a brow, “Better than sex, huh?”

You laugh, “Isn’t that what people say?”

Eddie laughs with you, his wet hair plastered to his face. His hair is longer with the curls stretched in the water. God, he was beautiful. You touch his face and he relaxes, his smile softening. The water runs over your bodies as you stare at each other. Eddie's hands grab your waist and pull you close.

“I love you,” he says quickly. “I should have said that before when I thought it was all ending. I’m upset that I didn’t. But I really believe that it wasn’t over. I was going to find you after, you know…in the afterlife or whatever is after this. I knew it wasn’t the end for us. I thought that if I held onto those words it was a promise that I’d find you and deliver them in our next life. And, well…shit, here we are. I guess this is our after, so yeah. I love you. I loved you before death and now. Whatever this is.”

Your heart bursts under the weight of his words. You can’t tell if you’re crying or if it’s the water running down your face, but all you can focus on is the warmth swelling within your chest.

“I love you so much.” You say. It’s pathetic. Five words that don’t even carry the weight of what you feel. You crash your lips onto his. You wrap your arms around him, needing him as close as possible. Fuck, you want to crawl into his chest and make a damn home. You want to bath in those words, have them embedded into your skin. You’ve never felt this way before. It’s a craving and a need that can’t be met. You love him so much that it hurts to breathe and once you can catch a breath all you want is to inhale him.

Eddie’s fingers dig into your skin, almost a reflection of the need burning within you. His kiss is desperate and hungry. He pressed you against the shower wall and you let out a gasp that he cut off with his mouth on yours. He’s hard against you and your body aches in answer. There is no foreplay besides his love confession. It’s only a hungry desire for one another and the need to be as close as possible in every way.

Eddie lifts you by the hips and you tighten your grip around his neck. You’re both out of breath from the kiss and the urgency of it all. You let out a whimper as he lowers you down on him. He fills you so perfectly.

“Fuck,” Eddie moans.

The water spills over you both as you move together. You are pinned between the shower wall and Eddie’s body, exactly where you want to be.

Eddie kisses your neck as he thrusts into you. “Are you sure it’s better than sex?”

You laugh, which ends in a moan as Eddie pushes deeper into you. “Maybe I was wrong.”

His hand moves up and grabs your breast, massaging it softly as he sucks on your neck. He’s everywhere, all you can feel and taste. After everything you’ve been through, he feels like your prize. You know that you’d go through it all a million times if you ended up being exactly where you are now.

After some time of moving together in perfect bliss, Eddie slams his hand on the shower wall above your head as his body starts to shake. He drops his head back as his breath quickens. You feel the warm wave build within your body and you grab Eddie’s face in your hands. He meets your gaze as he barely hangs on.

“Together,” you say, repeating his words from before.

You both reach your climax, clinging onto each other and trying to stay upright as the water washes away the desire that burned inside you both. You smile and laugh softly as you help each other regain stability.

Eddie plants a kiss on your bare shoulder before running his fingers through your soapy hair. There is something symbolic about Eddie washing your hair as if he is washing away every bad thing that ever happened in the past months. It feels right that he is the one doing it because even though you were dirty on the outside he made you feel brand new on the inside before the world burned, well…the world that brought you two together.

He massages your scalp before gently guiding you under the water. You close your eyes and focus on his fingers running through your hair as he washes away the soap. This must be what Heaven feels like, not the washing of your hair, but the touch of Eddie Munson.

After helping Eddie wash his hair and both of you washing your bodies, you find yourself wearing Eddie’s pajamas and crawling into his bed.

“Your room is exactly what I pictured.” You say as you rest your head on the pillow. A real pillow, one that’s not covered in dust. It’s the little things that make you happy now.

“Oh really?” Eddie smirks as he walks around his room, taking it all in. He stops and looks up to where a guitar is hanging. His smile grows and brushes his fingers over the strings. “Sorry I’m late, sweetheart.” He whispered.

The sound of the strings fills the room and you lay in bed admiring him in his space. It’s comforting to be surrounded by all things Eddie. There is no fear here, only him.

Eddie turns off the lamp and crawls into bed. He lets out a sigh of relief that he’s probably been holding since he left his life. It doesn’t take long for your eyes to adjust to the darkness and find his face. He silently smiles at you saying he sees you too.

“Come here,” he says. You scoot closer to him and he pulls you into him, closing the space between you both. You both lay in each other's arms and everything feels right. The silence grows and it’s comfortable, something that came easy to you both from the start.

“What if this is a dream?” You ask quietly.

Eddie kisses your nose and rests his forehead against yours. His brown eyes still shine in the darkness and pierce your soul. Forever leaving a mark.

He smiles before saying, “Then I’m happy to know that through every life, every parallel universe and even in our dreams we are together.”

Together.

You repeat his words in your mind as you slowly drift to sleep with a smile on your face and the promise of tomorrow.

**

Taglist:

@eddiemunson4life420 @gabrielsgoldengrace @boxofsmittens @harrys-tittie @briasnow-blog @all-time-otaku @enam31 @steveoswhore @mvnsonsblunt @theghees-blog @sweet-villain @sivt4five @sweetmarihs2 (I hope I did this right. I’ve never done a taglist.)

#eddiemunson #eddie munson fem!reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you

[superprincesspea]

Courted by the Dragon

Chapter 12 - Storm Chaser

Aemond Targaryen is both the cause and witness to the greatest humiliation of your life. You would rather die than see him again. Yet summer at court and the precipice of civil war have other ideas.

Masterlist

The day truly began with the arrival of a scroll.  

You were sitting to breakfast, and your sisters hurried to receive it, while you lingered in the background, spreading damson jam onto a slice of toasted bread.   

You expected the scroll to be another invitation from Helaena, yet as Maris brought it to the table, you could see that the wax seal was black, embossed with the same Targaryen sigel as your note from Aemond.   

In fact, the only difference between the scroll you’d received last night, and the one delivered this morning, was the name written across the front.   

Maris Baratheon.  

You get an instant bad feeling, which is only made worse by the look on her face as she unfurls the scroll, and a handkerchief flutters to the ground.  

"Your favour!” Cassandra exclaims, bending quickly to retrieve it, and she’s right. It is Maris’ favour.  

Bright golden marigolds are still delicately stitched into the shape of a heart, but the fabric is pristine, as though it’s been carefully laundered to remove all trace of human touch.   

You can’t help but think of your own favour, dusty and ruined, but held so fiercely in Aemond’s hand.  

“What does it say?” Cassandra asks, leaning in to look, but Maris shifts away so she can read in silence, her eyes quickly scanning the words, her brow creasing with every passing moment.  

This can’t be good, you think, and your toast slips onto your plate, as you try to imagine what had been going through Aemond’s mind when he’d put pen to parchment this morning.  

Asking for Maris’ favour had been bad enough, returning it was a thousand times worse.    

Did he really know nothing when it came to women?  

After her second read through of the scroll, Maris scrunches it lightly in her hand before laughing sharply and smoothing it back out to read a quote.   

“Prince Aemond wants to ‘ thank’ me for my favour, and for being a ‘ dear friend to Helaena. ’ But does not wish for me to think he had ‘ any intentions’ beyond ‘honouring a friendship’ with his sister . ”  

There is a long pause. An uncomfortable pause.  

All those books and he really did know nothing .  

“I’m so sorry, sister,” Cassandra console’s gently, reaching to offer a compassionate hand for Maris’ shoulder. But Maris explodes before Cassandra can touch her, thrusting the parchment into your face.  

“This is all your fault!”  

“My... fault ?” you stutter, feeling that it is, in fact, all your fault though not for the reasons she believes. You’d told him not to toy with her, but you hadn’t told him to do this .  

“You are always so rude to him! To everyone! Is it any wonder nobody likes you?” she pauses, tears streaking her cheeks and, perhaps she’s wondering if she’s gone too far, yet she doesn’t stop.   

“You didn’t even bother to come to the hall last night. Did you even bother to give him the remedy? Or was that too much to ask when all you’ve done all summer is hide in your room?”  

“I gave it to him,” you say, your voice no more than a whisper as you try to ignore the sting of her words.  

“And then what?” she demands.  

You look at Cassandra, hoping for a port in the storm, but she’s waiting for your answer with as much interest as Maris.  

So, you shrug and pick up your knife to add even more jam to your toast, though you can’t imagine eating it now. What you really need is time to think, to decide what to say, because what happened after you gave him the remedy will really make her mad.    

Still, it is the truth, so you say it as plainly as you can without going into too much detail, or mentioning the part where Aemond had threatened every man in court who had any interest in pursuing your hand.  

“I gave his grace the remedy... and the queen asked if I might stay a while to keep him company. So we had a glass of wine and played a game of Cyvasse.”   

“You. Played. Cyvasse? And you did not think to tell me this until now? ” she waves the parchment around in the air as though it is a weapon, and the look of betrayal is clear on her face. But you’re growing tired of protecting her feelings from the truth.  

Maris was not the only person in this family.  

What of your feelings?  

What of your torment these past few weeks?  

You straighten yourself in the chair, meeting her temper with more steel in your voice, “I was sleeping when you returned last night, and what difference would it make? It was just a game, it had nothing to do with you and, to be perfectly honest, I think you would hate every moment of Aemond’s company if you spent any amount of time actually speaking to him.”  

“We have spoken,” she says defensively, but polite conversation was not real conversation.  

You stand, scoffing, “then you must know he is insanely arrogant, ridiculously competitive, completely insensitive and possesses not an ounce of chivalry. He spends almost all his free time reading, which you hate, playing Cyvasse, which you also hate, and regarding everyone at court as though they are complete idiots.”  

She tilts her head, her eyes narrowed as though she has come to some fresh conclusion, “are you certain you’re not describing yourself, sister ?”  

“I am nothing like him!”  

“Maybe you just want him for yourself then? Is that it? Was that your plan all along?”  

You gasp, more than a little dumbfounded by the accusation, “are you even listening to me?”  

“Yes, and you seem to know an awful lot about a man you claim you do not like.”  

Clenching your hands into tight balls, you’re annoyed that Maris is right.  

You do know him; far more than you would want to know a man you despise as much as you despise Aemond Targaryen. But, more than anything, you’re annoyed that anyone could think, even for one moment, that you would ever desire him!    

Yet , it’s your tone which now sounds defensive, "first you say I’m ruining your chances by being rude to him, now you’re saying I’m trying to steal him from you? Which one is it? Why don’t you decide before I tell you how stupid this entire conversation is.”   

At that, you abandon your breakfast, your sisters, and your cloak, as you head towards the door and tear it open, leaving it to swing on its hinges in your haste to get away.  

Seven Hells! You scream internally as you storm through the halls, the skirts of your dress kicking up with every stride as though they are trying to trip you.  

You hardly thought it was possible to hate Aemond any more than you already did, yet you feel as though you could tear him limb from limb as you make your way towards the gardens, seeking refuge in the long willowy stems of the blooms.  

But, like everything else in this cursed Red Keep, all you find is disappointment, as the first careful drops of rain hit the ground while dark clouds gather for as far as the eye can see.  

Knowing you should turn back, you press on. Hurrying along the gravel path to where a small stone folly is nestled among the fading summer roses.   

It isn’t much, but it's enough to provide temporary shelter as the rain turns into a downpour. The promise of thunderstorms crackling in the humidity.   

You’ve never longed for home more than you do right now. Even if Storms End had sometimes felt like a prison with her tall, dark walls; her dusty corridors had never felt quite so desolate as the bustling halls of the Red Keep.  

If you were home, there would be no sisters standing guard outside your room, no courtiers to avoid and, more importantly, no dragon prince .   

Stretching out your hand, you catch cool drops of rain in your palm, and can’t help but think of the beach. The thrill of the water rushing against your skin, the pull of the tide-  

“My Lady?”  

Startled, you turn towards the sound.  

“Lady Baratheon?” Tyland Lannister says, as though you might be confused about who he was talking to in a garden emptied by the storm. Yet, you’re so surprised he’s speaking to you, you look around just the same.  

“What are you doing out here?” he exclaims, his hair soaked with water as he strips his cloak from his shoulders before throwing it over yours without question.  

You're too stunned to answer, but he doesn’t wait for you to say anything. He takes your arm, guiding you across the garden to where a little covered terrace offers far better protection from the elements and, beyond the door, you can see the chambers are decorated in the style of House Lannister.  

He pulls out an iron chair from under an iron table and you sit, wishing you’d removed his cloak first, as he takes the other seat.  

“It has been far too long since I’ve enjoyed your company,” he says, as though the whole thing wasn’t by some cowardly design.   

You don't reply. You can’t exactly ask him why he’s chosen this precise moment to risk the removal of his manhood at the hands of Aemond Targaryen- but you do wonder it.  

What has changed since you last spoke?  

He'd seemed so afraid then and appears so relaxed now.  

He even smiles when you meet his eye, his gaze scraping approvingly across your cloaked form as though he’s very satisfied about the current situation indeed.  

Then he gestures for the servant, and she pours hot tea into delicate little cups while a long silence begins to stretch across the table, its length marked with every drop of rain which taps on the roof until he decides to speak.  

“How long until you return home, Lady Baratheon?”  

“Three days.”  

“Only three?” he shifts in his chair, his hand clenched while his thumb brushes thoughtfully across his finger, “I hear the Stormlands can be quite unforgiveable come winter.”  

You pick up your cup, “only to those who cannot withstand them, my lord.”  

“Casterly Rock is always pleasant no matter the time of year. You would like it, I think.”  

"My sister Cassandra would like it more. She loathes to be cold, but I could not find any pleasure in the summer if there was no winter to keep her in balance.”  

“And how did you enjoy the tourney?” he asks then, flitting the subject to one he hopes you can agree on, and you suddenly remember all the reasons you were trying to avoid his company before Aemond intervened.  

The rigid conversations, the fawning look in his eye, and the unspoken expectation of flattery and obedience.  

“I detest tourneys,” you admit, and Tyland’s gaze widens, his teacup hovering just below his lips.  

“I suppose they can be quite violent for ladies with such tender hearts.”   

His words make you feel a little nauseated as you settle your cup back onto the table. “It is not my tender heart which finds them disagreeable, my lord, it is my objection to idiocy in the name of glory.”  

Tyland frowns, confused by your honesty and seeming unsure on how to react.   

He was supposed to ask if you liked tourneys, and you were supposed to smile and say yes, before agreeing with every other remark he decided to make. But you were in no mood to fake interest for the sake of propriety or to fake anything at all.  

“My lady seems quite unsettled by the storm,” he decides with a small uncomfortable laugh, “perhaps you will feel more comfortable inside, where it is much warmer?”  

You glance back into the room, where it is all red upholstery and golden lions, and get the distinct feeling that this could be your life, if you wanted it.  

All you had to do was play the part you’d been born to play, and he would ask for your hand, and you would birth a little Lannister baby come spring.  

It would be so easy. The Lannister’s were wealthy and powerful, so you could find endless comfort and safety in this golden cloak. But were you really prepared to settle for comfort because you were too afraid of a little storm?  

Tyland was old enough to be your father, and boring enough to be completely harmless, but what was marriage without passion? Only duty, and all at once, you find you're not prepared to give your life away so readily in the name of that.  

So, knowing it’s likely a terrible mistake to spurn the possibility of such an enviable match, you do it anyway.  

“Please,” you stand, fiddling with the clasp of his cloak before it slips from your shoulders into a pile on the chair, “do not aim to speak with me again.”  

Tyland stands too, his face even more perplexed than before, as you head back into the rain like a mad woman instead of a future Lady Lannister, and you feel not a thimbleful of regret.  

Nor are you content. The downpour seems relentless, your dress growing heavier and heavier with every step you take as you trudge along the winding paths.  

Yet even with the rain, you do not wish to face your sisters, and feel as though there is really no place to go except one .   

The Crown Library.  

~~~

Thank you for reading! This chapter was getting so long I had to split it into more manageable chucks but that means next chapter is all Aemond :D

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #ewan mitchell #romance #female reader #enemies to lovers #aemond targaryen x oc #prince aemond #slow burn

[jxsterr]

something crazy that’s just crossed my mind is the whole thing of does zelda miss link while she’s stuck in the past? i know the memories don’t do shit all justice to tell us ANYTHING about zelda’s feelings on this whole situation but it does make you wonder. i personally think she misses him like he’s dead

because imagine this. you’ve been trapped in stasis for literally a century. you’ve watched all of your friends and family die. then your knight, the one you watched die in your arms, finally comes back and frees you. you then move into a small house together, it’s not much but it’s honest living. you spruce it up with decorations until you can both stand back and say, “yeah, this feels like home.” you live the next year or so quaintly, travelling around hyrule to restore it to its former glory as best as you can, all within the company of someone you hold closer than a best friend. he’s still there, even though he doesn’t have to be, and follows you ever loyally. you wonder if he’ll ever go his own way, but his insistence on remaining by your side makes you think otherwise.

you believe in the strength of learning, that the children of hyrule need to be better educated in order to solidify a strong future for the kingdom, so you build a school. you hire teachers and organise the school’s curriculum, taking part so much that you become a teacher yourself. he greets you every evening when you come home and plates up dinner already piping hot so you don’t have to worry about it. life continues this way, simple and non exhaustive, living earnestly beside someone who would extinguish the sun if it meant you’d smile. you love him, realistically, and he loves you too.

something stirs under the castle and, like the good princess you are, you go trundling into the depths below with your loyal knight to solve the problem. it bears endless discoveries, things you know you’ll stay up all night studying; things that bring you so much joy that he holds your torch so you can enjoy it without interruption. instead of the torch, he’s soon holding a shattered blade in his bloody hand, arm eaten and burnt raw by something that smells so vile it’s all you can do not to vomit. you watch the world fall into peril once more, and as you do so, you feel yourself falling to the exact same fate. you see the way he throws away legend and jumps after you, knowing that he is also falling to his demise. you see the fear in his eyes, the way tears cling to the corners of them and feel the burn of your own.

his plan was always to die by your side, and he will do it by any means necessary.

you wake up and he’s gone, your world is gone, and you’re somewhere new. two strange people greet you and quickly take you under their wing, and while a new world means endless discoveries, you can’t help but wonder if link is dead. did he kill himself alongside you, only for you to somehow survive and let him fall alone? the thought makes the bile creep up your throat.

who’s to say that, during the period of time where link is unconscious, she isn’t wracked with guilt at the realisation that he may be dead? she’s thousands upon thousands of years in the past, and his body may be the only one laid cold at the bottom of that chasm. would people even remember him? yes, he was the hero of hyrule, but he’d always kept a low profile. humble to a fault, she’d tell him. and the fault may be that if he’s dead, perhaps only her name would grace the lips of hyrule. the survivor’s guilt would eat her whole knowing that he’s died for her twice now.

so you can imagine her relief when she feels the pull of him and his sword. the relief when she can make her vow to him. the relief in knowing that he’s okay, somehow, and that he’s alive above everything else. but now that she knows he’s okay, what’s there left to do? well, miss him, of course. they’re inseparable and very rarely do things without the company of the other, she’s going to miss him like her right arm.

in the day she’s surrounded by people—sonia, rauru, mineru and her army of constructs, plus the rest of the people of this era of hyrule—but come the night, she’s alone. her bed lacks the warmth it used to hold, doesn’t bear the imprint of where her love has slept beside her. she’s painfully, irrefutably alone. she’ll step out onto the balcony of the castle alone and wish he was by her side, wish that she could just speak to him again even for a little while. for as long as she walks this hyrule, there is an overwhelming, gaping hole in her chest. she finds comfort in the presence of sonia, rauru and mineru but there’s only so much they can do. she talks to sonia about him. she talks to rauru about him. she talks to mineru about him. anyone who will listen to her speak of her talented hero, she will talk to.

she rides a construct and thinks of him. a steward construct explains to her the biodiversity of the land and she thinks of him. she spends her nights at her desk, quill in hand and illuminated by candlelight, and writes in her diary as if she’s speaking to him. it cuts her open over and over with every day she has to wake up alone.

when she decides the only thing fate has left in store for her is to become a dragon to aid link in the future, she weeps for days on end. she knows that this is it, everything she’s ever known will be beyond her forever now. she lives on in the skies, but her soul dies here. all those years they spent together building a life together, growing, all for nothing. they were cursed from the very beginning. ever since they fell to the calamity the first time fate has had it out for them. and so her last thoughts while she can still think are of him. she prays for his safety, for his success, and for him to have a happy and long life without her. she weeps knowing she’ll never grow old with him or get to experience the revival of her kingdom. it tears her from the inside out, and she screams even as a dragon at the loss. it’s overwhelming, devastating beyond any weight words could hold. she’s lost everything, lost everyone, and lost herself. she was doomed from the beginning. she was never meant to be happy.

so yes, the ending of totk should’ve been a HELL of a lot more emotionally charged. seeing someone you thought was dead AND that you worried you’d never see again?? she’d be crying for hours in his arms

#zelink analysis #legend of zelda #loz link #loz zelda #tears of the kingdom #zelda and link #zelda x link #zelink #link #princess zelda #zelda tears of the kingdom #totk zelink #totk link #totk spoilers #totk

[voltronisanobsession]

Late night thought ( listened to video games ldr)

Being star crossed lovers with Percy. Being soulmates throughout many lifetimes, fate will never let the two of you be together.

In every lifetime, one of you will bare the burden of knowing everything, from being destined soulmates, to all your past lives, to the terrible fate your relationship always succumbs to end. Reader happens to be the one carrying the weight in the current pjo universe timeline.

Knowing basically everything about him, you try so hard to not fall for Percy. Your heart breaks when you first meet him, Percy already stumbling over his words at the mere sight of you. The connection is strong between the two of you, but you want nothing more than to runaway.

You already know how this story will end. But you can’t help falling for him all over again, getting to know this new version of him, seeing the similarities from his past lives shining in him. Admiring his new traits that make your heart beat fast.

Spending more time with him, he falls for you just the same. He feels a pull to you, his body igniting with life whenever he was around you. Your wide smile, caring hands on his face, and sweet voice instantly offering him comfort.

He’s so comfortable being himself around you that it almost surprises him. You read him like an open book.

Everything is just easier with you. He feels like he’s known you his entire life.

I think the hardest part for you is whether to tell him or not. Keep him in the dark of your guys’ destiny, or ruin what beautiful relationship has blossomed in the time you’ve known each other.

Chiron might know what you two are, simply because he may have met you guys hundreds of years ago, in a different lifetime. He feels pity for you as you struggle to distance yourself from Percy.

Believing that leaving him will break what fate has in store for you, Percy can’t let go. You’re like his other half. You’ve been there for him through thick and thin and now you just want to leave?

He won’t let you go until you give him a good reason. He can’t let you go. Percy is in too deep to watch you walk away from what you guys have. What you won’t let happen.

And it’s at this where you let everything out. Pain and tears are released, watching with despair as Percy struggles to accept what you say.

“We can’t be together Percy! Everything, everything will always ruin us. It’s been written in the stars for thousands of years, we will always fail. Just for loving each other.”

Of course to make this more dramatic, Percy will definitely get a vision of some sort showing him your fates as star crossed lovers.

“That’s not- it can’t be true. That’s not FAIR! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know how Percy. I didn’t know how.”

A lot of tears are shed that night. But just as much comfort is present. There’s no way to reverse your meeting, your fates are now permanently entwined. The only thing guys can do is hope to overcome your terrible fate.

Nights are filled with sweet whisperings. You guys would lay in silence, admiring each other as the stars shone bright in the dark sky. Each others soul in tune with the others emotions, walls are crumbled between the two of you.

Moments like these make up for all the pain and suffering that you both have went through. Gentle kisses on your face, Percy promises you’ll make it through anything, together. You caress his face, wearing a bittersweet smile.

But alas, nothing can change the fate of star crossed lovers. Stumbling across a monster during a quest, this is where the end begins.

Unlike anything he’s every seen, Percy can’t fight off the monster. No matter how many times he gets up, each time weaker than the last, the monster won’t die. It isn’t until it speaks that everything makes sense.

“A sacrifice must be made.”

A sick feeling is instantaneous between the two of you. Eyes wide in fear, you look to Percy. Despite the beating he took, he’s never looked as beautiful as he did now. You vowed to remember this moment of the boy in your next life.

Percy wanted to fight, he didn’t want to give up. He was angry, scared. He believed he could change your fates.

“Percy.”

“We have to try y/n! I can’t do this without you, please. I need you.”

“I love you. I loved you in the past, I love you right now, and I will always fall in love with you in the future. We’ll see each other again.”

He can’t stop you as you make your way to the monster. Fate works against him, keeping his body frozen and in place as he cries for you. Cries for your pasts. Cries for the emptiness he’ll have to endure once your gone.

It’s quick and swift, your death. You welcome it with bitterness, Percy’s crying breaking your resolve, but you have to continue. You’ll see your lover again.

Percy mourns everyday for you. He misses the soft whisperings you spoke that filled the dead of night in his cabin.

He mourns the life you both could’ve had if fate had not been so cruel to tear you apart every time. He’s forced to live a life without his other half once again.

He’ll miss the way you held his face, miss the way you made him laugh, miss the way you made him feel. He spends everyday living and remembering the memories of you.

Once the time comes, Percy welcomes death with open arms, reunited with you for a short moment until you’re both sent onto your new lives, starting the cycle all over again.

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