#「 ❅ i can’t tell you where i’m headed but i know i’m gone ❞ sera / about. 」

[rosieofcorona]

Fellchaser

Hi my sweets, I bring to you some freshly baked Solavellan yearning. Also posted on Ao3, if you prefer. As always, thank you for reading. 💕

This is how he remembers it, the first night Solas knew that he loved her. 

He cannot say with any certainty, after all these lonely years, what had happened directly before or directly after, cannot make out the finer details in the grand tapestry of things. But he knows by heart the shape of that hour, the way she had come to him after a victory, flushed with wine and the chill of the evening, her hair curling up in the damp autumn air.

*****

He declines, as he always does, their invitations for a celebratory drink, preferring the relative quiet and solitude of his own quarters.

For many hours, he can hear them– Bull and Sera and the rest– their cheerful noises bouncing off the castle walls like skipping stones. It annoys him for a time, disturbs his solitude, his study, until he hears (or thinks he hears) her voice among them. 

Solas can picture her then, in the tavern. Bright mind, bright eyes, bright laughter. Vibrant even in the dimness of the room. And there’s a flicker of a thought he can’t keep smothered– that he should’ve gone down there with her, despite his judgment. 

It makes no matter how he tries to keep his distance. She seeks him out, as she always does, as he knows she will. When he doesn’t stop her, he tells himself that it’s because she’s their Inquisitor. He tells himself she can go where she likes, that duty alone compels his counsel. 

He knows a lie when he hears one. 

He’s nearly talked himself into making an appearance when she shows up in his doorway, hazy and loose with the aura of drink, the tips of her ears and her cheeks turned rosy. 

He does nothing to discourage her entering. He says nothing to send her away. 

“Hello,” she says simply, when he sees her. Her head tilts against the frame, her gaze fond and unfocused.

“Hello.”

“You never joined us.” An accusation. Lightly leveled, lightly slurred. The syllables tumble in her mouth like stones in a river.

He wants to say, I could not bear you being so close and sweet and real. He wants to say, You are a distraction I cannot afford.  Instead he says, “I was preoccupied,” knowing that answer is insufficient.

She makes her way into the chamber, weaving an unsteady path to the table where he has laid out all his books, his quills, his ink. 

“With what?” she murmurs, curious even in her state.

Solas knows he should excuse himself, conjure a reason to stay at a distance. But he finds himself wanting to– what? Talk to her, tell her, keep her close?

“Translating a record,” he says at last. “Of ancient practices in Arlathan. Ritual offerings to the gods in exchange for their…favor.”

Solas stumbles on the last word, something bitter in its taste, and where she would normally probe him further she takes no notice. She’s busy poring over the largest book, its contents all in Elvhen, the ink and vellum faded by the centuries. “I can’t make out any of this,” she frowns. “Perhaps I’m worse off than I thought.” “Perhaps,” Solas huffs out a laugh. “Although the language has shifted with time. Some words may yet be familiar, if not–”

“Oh, here!” She gasps delightedly when she finds a phrase she knows, though she says the syllables slowly, as if they are new. “Sa-lath. One’s love, one’s only love. Something like that.” 

“In the modern parlance, yes. But here,” he says– and he leans over her to tap the page for emphasis– “Here it means something like ‘beloved.’ The words come together, see. Salath.”

It’s the wine he smells first, that rich, warm scent that floats from her up close, but there’s something different, something distinctive hiding beneath. He wants to taste it and find out, to slip his tongue into her mouth, and– 

“They would offer something beloved, then?”

Solas clears his throat.

“Or someone,” he nods, breathing deeply. “A high price for favor.”

She goes quiet for a moment, tracing the small shapes of the letters with her finger. Such a fine movement is made imprecise by the drink, but she repeats it as if she is carving it into her memory. “Salath,” she whispers, tasting the word. “Salath, ‘beloved.’ I will remember that.”

He very much doubts that she will, come morning. But it stirs something inside him all the same. Beloved, beloved.  

“What would you demand?” She says, sweeping the thought from his mind. “If you were a god.”

If, he thinks, that one word louder than all the rest. 

“I suppose it would depend what was being asked of me.”

“Your favor,” she tells him. “Your love.”

“Ah.” There’s a twist in his chest, like an arrow wrenched free, pain and relief all at once. “The heart of a god is not easily won. I would require yours in return.”

She laughs a little, as if he’s jesting. “That hardly seems equal. A mortal heart for a god’s?”

“Your heart,” Solas says, in a gentle correction. “For mine.” He does not kiss her, like he wants to. He does not stop her kissing him. 

The press of her mouth is a summer fruit, warm and sweet and bruising lightly beneath their wanting, their mutual hunger grown apparent. 

Only once has he kissed her before this. A dream, an impulse, he’d told himself then. A mistake that he wouldn’t repeat, no matter how tempting. 

So he’s grateful, now, that she’s been drinking, that she’s given him an out. He can call this her impulse, even as he takes more, tastes more. He can call this next part chivalry. He knows a lie when he hears one. 

“We can’t,” he says, when they come apart. “You are not yourself, and the hour is late. You should get some sleep.”

She’s disappointed, he thinks– and is it cruel to hope she is? To hope she still wants him as he wants her, even as he turns her away? 

Best not to dwell on it.  

“I will help you upstairs,” he tries again, and she brightens a little. “Can you manage the walk?”

There’s a part of him that wishes she’ll say no, give him an excuse to lift and carry her to her quarters, to feel the weight of her pressed against him. But she says, “Yes,” and, “I’m not so far gone,” and Solas breathes out another laugh. 

He knows a lie when he hears one.

All the same, he takes her hand in his, lets her lean on him as they make the long walk to her quarters, each step its own little feat. She stumbles more than once; more than once, he catches her gently. 

It is worth being gentle for her. 

In her room he removes her boots, knelt on the floor as if at an altar. He hardly knows the last time he knelt, only knows that now he wants to.

When he rises she says, “Thank you,” and the following word may be his name, or another entirely. Solas tries to ignore it, tries to let the sound be lost in the lingering silence but he needs to know, as he always does, needs to be certain. “What did you say?”

“I said, ‘thank you,’” she hums, laying back on the bed, and this time he leans in close to hear the rest. 

“Salath.” *****

The walk back to his quarters is longer, somehow. 

He thinks of her all the way, her hair in a dark spill across the pillows, the way she rolled the old sounds of his language around in her mouth. He thinks of her when he undresses, when he slips into his own bed, when he indulges in the fantasy of feeling her under and around him. Just this once, he thinks, as his hand begins to move beneath the covers, slow at first and then more desperate. Just this once won’t hurt, won’t hurt, won’t– 

Ah.  

He is in love, he knows it now, as he shudders and gasps out her name. How tragic it is, and how lovely. How foolish, how sweet. His love for her could level cities. It could grow flowers.

A mortal heart for a god’s. Beloved, beloved. 

He imagines what he would sacrifice for her, if he has to, when he has to. The answer surfaces in his mind like something dredged up from unfathomable depths, some unknown factor which demands to be accounted for, and which fills him with dread.

“I would give everything,” he says aloud, to himself, to no one. 

The words hang in the air like ghosts, the same lament in all their mouths.  Beloved, beloved. Tags by request (thank you, angels!): @meg-does-art, @lavellanart

[daitranscripts]

Trespasser Pt. 14

Shattered Library

Trespasser Masterpost Previous: Dragon’s Breath

The PC heads back into the crossroads until they find a new eluvian.

PC: An eluvian marked by a bookshelf. This should be it.

Party comments:

Iron Bull: Good. Time to get some answers from the Viddasala.

Cassandra: Let us get answers from this Viddasala.

Blackwall: Right. Let’s get some answers from the Viddasala.

They enter it.

PC: Is this some sort of old elven library?

Party comments:

Vivienne: There are traces of some ancient magical catastrophe in the air.

Dorian: It definitely saw a massive magical backlash some time ago.

PC: Let’s hope we can track down the Viddasala in all this.

They continue in until they come across a lone spirit.

Dalish PC Archivist: Andaran atish’an, mirthadra elvhen. PC: More ancient elven. Archivist: If you wish, honored elvhen, I will speak so your guests understand.

Sera in party, non-Dalish PC Archivist: Andaran atish’an, mirthadra elvhen. Sera: Andaran… Why’s it talking to me? Don’t talk to me. You make me dizzy. Archivist: If you wish, honored elvhen, I will speak so your guests understand.

Sera not in party, non-Dalish PC Archivist: Visitors. Patrons. Welcome. The halls are open. PC: What are you?

Archivist: I am study. I am a learning thirst. Come, know what has not been lost. New words. New stories. The Qunari would not approach, but we learned their words as well. If you wish to exchange knowledge, they congregate by the lower gate.

1 - Dialogue options:

Investigate: What is this place? [2]

Investigate: What’s Viddasala doing here? [3]

General: Let’s go. [4]

2 - Investigate: What is this place? PC: What did the old elves use this place for? Archivist: This is the Vir Dirthara. The living knowledge of the empire. The libraries of every city. The wisdom of every court. A connecting place whose paths are in disarray. [5]

5 - Dialogue options:

Special: Why are the paths in disarray? [6]

Investigate: What’s Viddasala doing here? [7]

Investigate: Can you share your knowledge? [6]

Dalish: Tell me about old elves. [8]

[Back to 1]

6 - Special: Why are the paths in disarray? PC: What put this place into “disarray”? Archivist: The Vir Dirthara was made with world and Fade. When they sundered, so did we. Paths broke. Knowledge fragmented. Many were trapped. I preserve their last words.

Dialogue options:

Special: What last words? [9]

[Back to 1]

9 - Special: What last words? PC: What were these old elves’ “last words”? Archivist: “What happened? Where are the paths? Where are the paths?” “Gods save me, the floor is gone. Do not let me fall. Do not let me—” On this spot, that is all. Iron Bull: Thanks. Really paints a picture. [back to 5]

7 - Investigate: Can you share your knowledge? PC: There must be thousands of years of history here. There must be so much you can teach us. [9]

8 - Dalish: Tell me about old elves. PC: I could learn so much about my people. What were they like? How long is our history? [10]

10 - Scene continues.

Archivist: I will try to recall, honored patron, but there are gaps… breaks… Greetings. Laughter. Emma enasal. Forms out of air. Light. Memories. Aneth ara! So many. Broken paths at every… Missing. Missing. Missing!

Cole in party Cole: Stop. Please, stop! You don’t need to hurt yourself! Archivist: Yes, I… wisdom from compassion. Yes. I will stop.

Cole not in party Archivist: I can’t! I cannot… There is no more.

Archivist: Apologies. I knew all once. We knew. With the break, only fragments or knowledge new, since the fall. [Back to 1]

3 - Investigate: What’s Viddasala doing here? PC: I’m looking for a Qunari called Viddasala. Do you know what she wants here? Archivist: Viddasala. Yes. She uses scholars and mages for study. They fear this place, but they seek to know the Veil.

Dialogue options:

Special: The Veil? [11]

[Back to 1]

11 - Special: The Veil? PC: What does Viddasala want to know about the Veil? Archivist: I regret I do not have more information. I am sundered from myself. If you discover another one of me nearer the Qunari, I may know more. Kindly give it my greetings. I have not thought with myself for some time. [back to 1]

4 - General: Let’s go. PC: We’ll be going now.

First time speaking Archivist: Know this: an unknown person, not of the Qunari, recently woke the Librarians. PC: An unknown person? Could this be our agent of Fen’Harel? Archivist: The Librarians facilitated learning before the fracture. Before the fall. Now, beware them. They are unwell. [12]

Spoken to before Archivist: Wisdom guide you. [12]

12 - Scene continues.

PC: There! Qunari. On that… upside-down island?

Party comments:

Sera: How are they not chucking their guts just constantly?

Varric: Looks like a camp up there. Down there? Shit, this place is weird.

Cole (more spirit): Shivering, wide awake, watching for demons. This isn’t home. This isn’t home at all.

Cole (more human): They have a camp.

The PC discharges one of the switches, and stairs begin to form.

PC: That repaired some of the steps. Let’s look around for more. The inverted eluvian must lead to the Qunari.

They begin to explore and pass through an eluvian that takes them into a courtyard with a structure that sparks with magic.

PC: (Cries out in pain.)

Dorian: Did you notice? Your Anchor is flaring up near magic. Elven magic.

Vivienne: Interesting. The Anchor is reacting adversely to elven magic.

PC (mage): It doesn’t hurt when I cast spells. What’s causing this? PC (non-mage): What does that mean?

Dorian: I’m not sure. Tell us if it gets worse.

Vivienne: I haven’t the slightest, my dear. Keep an eye on it.

They head through a nearby eluvian into the sundered hall, and the PC comes across a dead Qunari.

PC: These Qunari are dead, but there’s not a mark on them.

Party comments:

Blackwall: Wide eyes. And that look on their faces… I’d almost say they were scared to death.

Cassandra: Look at their eyes. They died in fear.

Iron Bull: Backs hunched, eyes wide open… They were scared shitless when they died.

The PC speaks to a nearby archivist.

Archivist: Welcome. Welcome. Listen to the last words of those who lived past the fall. “How could the Dread Wolf cast a Veil between the world that wakes and the world that dreams?” “The Evanuris will send people. They will save us!” “When have you last heard from the gods? When the Veil came down, they went silent!” “What is this Veil? What has Fen’Harel done?”

PC: Are these “records” saying Fen’Harel created the Veil between our world and the Fade?

Party comments:

Sera: That… can’t be true. Veil’s always been there. No one made it!

Iron Bull: They’re saying some guy just made the Veil? We must have been ass-deep in demons before then.

Dorian: If it’s true, that means the Fade and the waking world were once one in the same.

Vivienne: Impossible! If there was a time the Veil didn’t exist, there would be some mention of it in human history.

They continue through another eluvian into the lower archives. The PC finds a chapter of Hard in Hightown.

Varric: What the—I never wrote this!

The PC activates another switch.

PC: These blocks are heading toward that upside-down eluvian.

Party comments:

Iron Bull: Creepy. Helpful, but creepy.

Blackwall: Why are these stairs going where we want them to?

Cassandra: Can we trust this magic?

PC: It’s a place of learning. Maybe this “Vir Dirthara” is helping us find what we need?

Iron Bull: Now that’s even weirder.

They head back through the eluvian and come across some Qunari to fight, and then continue back into to courtyard. The magic sparks to the Anchor.

PC: (Cries out in pain.)

Party comments:

Cassandra: Inquisitor, we must look at your hand.

Blackwall: The Anchor again? Are you all right?

Iron Bull: That’s really not getting better, boss.

PC: The pain’s stopped.

Party comments:

Varric: It keeps coming back.

Cole: The magic here wakes it. Familiar, strong�� ripping apart again, all again.

Sera: It’s worse, right? You need to… not get worse.

They continue through another eluvian into a broken tower. The PC finds another dead Qunari nearby.

PC: More dead Qunari with terrified expressions.

Another archivist is at the top of the nearby stairs.

Archivist: Welcome, and listen to the last words of those who walked this place. “If we get out of here, I will end Fen’Harel!” “After he held back the sky to imprison the gods, the Dread Wolf disappeared.” “Lies! We must tear down the Veil! The cities, the pathways… Without magic, they’re crumbling!” “You’re wasting your time. Fen’Harel’s Veil has turned our empire to ruins.”

PC: So the ancient elven empire collapsed because the Veil weakened magic?

Party comments:

Cassandra: If what we’re hearing is true, this would have been a disaster beyond measure.

Blackwall: Like damming a river. Rely on it for water all your life—what happens when it disappears?

Iron Bull: If the old elves relied on magic even more than the Vints, no wonder things went to crap when it dried up.

Party comments:

Dorian: Do you realize what this means? What this place is? The actual history of the elves could change everything.

Vivienne: An empire run on more magic than we have ever seen? Perhaps it’s best its little secrets remain lost.

Varric: Inquisitor, you let even a handful of scholars into this place, you’ll rewrite everything. I mean, apart from all those other times you rewrote everything.

They travel through the eluvian and emerge in the scholar’s retreat. They PC finds some research notes nearby.

These loose pages are scattered about, as if abandoned in a great hurry. Algebraic-looking formulae crawl across the pages, spiked with dense annotations in Qunlat.

PC: This looks like… technical notes? What did the Qunari come here to learn?

Party comments:

Iron Bull: They’re real technical. I can’t make out any either. Something about magic, that’s it.

Vivienne: The theorems are familiar. The Qunari are wrestling with abstracted magical theory.

Dorian: I recognize some formulas. The Qunari are trying to prove theoretical magic of some kind.

They activate the last switch to complete the walkway.

PC: That should be enough stairs. Let’s see if we can reach the inverted eluvian now.

As they make their way back, the party re-enters the courtyard and are attacked by demons.

PC They’re the librarians?

Party comments:

Cole: Hello! Varric: Not the time, kid!

Varric: Not good!

Sera: Shit! Shit! Shit!

They fight the librarians.

Librarian: Tel’dellan sa Vir Dirthara!

Librarian: Delltash!

Librarian: Seran viar malas shivera mellavar!

Librarian: Ghilas dennar!

Once they are defeated, the party can access the eluvians again and continue.

Next: Viddasala

[faerieavalon]

Tagged in a word search by @serial-chillr (thank you fren!!) and figured I’d let people know I’m still alive.

My words are hollow, choice, and/or habit. All selections are from Sule Tael Tasalal, which I swear I am still writing even if I’m super slow. So have some longer selections as a treat.

Hollow:

Sera squirmed. “Too many elfy elves. I even think about it and I can feel them breathing down the back of my neck. It’s weird. They’re weird. Did we have to bring them?”

Lowering his eyes to his empty hands, Mahanon sighed. “They have a mission of their own. It’s important. For however long they travel with us, please just let them be.”

“It’s for Princess, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Varric.” He nodded, his words feeling hollow. He could still see the pain on her face when she disappeared. “The Inquisition has to carry on. We have to find Corypheus and right what’s been done to the world. They will find her and bring her home.”

“They will be departing at first light.” Solas spoke softly from the outer edge of the firelight. He came no closer. “Their beacon calls them elsewhere.”

A knot lodged in Mahanon’s throat. He nodded again, unable to express his sympathies in words. Solas accepted it with a tilt of his head before fading off into the shadows again.

“Good.” The young elf genuinely looked worried for a moment before brushing it off with a snort. “They better not come back without her either or they’re going to have more to worry about than ants in their breeches.”

~

Choice:

“It is starting again, falon. I want to help them. I need to. But my heart is not strong enough to do this all on my own.”

Felassan gave her a quick squeeze and rubbed a hand in comforting, soft circles along her lower back. “You are not alone, da’asha. You will always have me.”

“You said that once before,” Ara’lan muttered bitterly. “Then you ran.”

“You once told me you would draw down the stars,” he countered lightly. With a sigh, he answered more seriously. “I have more choices now than I ever did then. I am free to walk my own path as I choose. I choose to walk it at your side. Give me your trust once more, da’asha. Please. Give me the chance to make this right.”

She pulled back and studied his face again. The worry lines were deeper than before but his intentions sounded clear. Her heart ached for hope but recoiled from pain. She would have to trust her instincts in this. His pulse beat steady in his neck and chest. His eyes never once looked away from her. If anything they pleaded with her to listen. She read honesty, hope, and a hint of fear at rejection. The choice was simple.

“Yes, of course.” She conceded with a tired nod. “It was never truly in doubt. I apologize. Today has been far too long.”

~

Habit:

“No! Not a close call! It was -” His voice trembled behind clenched teeth just as his shaking hand clenched in Mahanon’s grasp. “We all knew the risks when we signed up. Any battle could go wrong. Any danger could be our last. But not you. Never you. You’re the Inquisitor. Everyone looks to you to be their hero. Larger than life. But then you go and remind us, remind me, that you’re fallible. Mortal. You don’t get to do that. You carry all the burdens of the world. I can’t add to that but I can wish -”

Mahanon wished he could take his lover into his arms and tell him all the things that had run through his head. How he had been more worried about the reaction of the man at his side than about the future of the world. He held his tongue, gently rubbing Dorian’s fingers with his thumbs.

“That demon screamed and I thought, this is it. This is where I finally lose him. I saw you fall and everything changed. You slipped away and I was all alone.” Finally making eye contact, Mahanon could see his fear as plain as day. “Look at me lecturing you like a Mother. You’ve done this to me, you know. Made me a sentimental fool.”

“I was scared, too,” Mahanon interrupted softly, dropping all pretense. “So many things could have gone differently but it doesn’t matter, because I’m here. I’m alive. Ar lath ma vhenan. There’s nothing I won’t do to stay at your side.”

“There you go with those pretty words.” Dorian blinked back his tears and gave him a wobbly smile. “Be careful making promises like that, amatus. Something might overhear you and try to make you prove it.”

“They’ll have to get in line then.” Mahanon kissed his fingers again. “I hear it's quite long already.”

“I suppose it is.” Dorian chuckled despite himself and shook his head. “Never thought there would come a day in my life I’d be thankful for blood magic. Try not to make a habit of that trick, hmm? Don’t go where I can’t follow. My heart can’t take it.”

~

Passing the game along with no obligation to @pedlimwen, @in-arlathan, @mogwaei, and anyone else who wants to play. Your words, should you choose to accept them, are dark, tear, and/or laugh.

[untaemedqueen]

Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 10.

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage, Love,

Warnings In This Chapter: Heart To Heart, Fluff, Infidelity, Sera Is A Cunt, Triggering Moments (I.E): Hearing Infidelity, Making Light Of Other's Trauma, Mentions of Cigarette Burns, General Rudeness

A/N: This chapter is early because I’m hungover. Always a shoutout to @ppersonna, @xjoonchildx, @ladyartemesia​. Enjoy! 

The smell of blooming flowers is something you never thought you'd become fond of. It's never been something that you've even considered. But you find yourself so often these days finding small delights in simplistic things.

Sitting in front of the large fountain that has been hidden behind clean cut hedges and tall rose bushes, you let the gentle breeze wash over you.

You can hear Baeksoo quietly speaking to the plants as she waters them. It's calming in fact, to hear her speak words of praise.

You've thought long and hard about this evening. Which is astounding since it's just dinner. But, you don't know simple things about Yoongi.

You think to ask Maya but you want to do this by yourself.

"I thought I'd find you here," the voice draws your attention and suddenly you're misty eyed.

Just the way she walks and the tilt of her gorgeous face is enough to make you weep.

"Leena!" you cry out.

Jumping up from the bench, your arms spread wide as you feel relief flood over you.

"Hey, Miss Thing!" she cheers, pulling you into her arms.

You begin to feel as if you could breathe again.

"You look so great! I missed you so much!" she whines loudly, squeezing you tightly to her slim body.

"What're you doing here?!" you ask, pulling away to look at her pretty face.

She grabs your wrist, tugging you over to the bench you were just sitting on.

"Taehyung needed to bring Yoongi some documents for a mall or something before we're off to France, so I made sure I was able to come and see you."

You watch as she demurely crosses her legs and you make a mental note of it. She went to many etiquette classes when she was younger and you’ve always admired how graceful she is. It’s the way she moves so effortlessly and with such confidence. You’ve always wished to be like her.

The floral fragrance seems to enrapture you once more as you sit together. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, your best friend makes it a point to continue to hold you.

“How is he treating you? I swear to God, if you tell me that you’re being treated like the help I’m going to fucking flip.” your best friend asks.

You sigh gently, looking up at the clear cerulean sky.

“He’s treating me normally, I guess. One minute he’s so cold with me and the next he’s just being so sweet. I don’t know what the fuck to feel. Last night, we went at it and he came to apologize to me.” you reply as the breeze blows through your hair.

“Excuse me? Min Yoongi apologized to you?” she sounds dumbfounded and all you can do is nod in agreement.

“Oh my God, he’s so fucking whipped! That’s amazing.” you snort at her excitement, rolling your eyes before looking back over to her.

“I think he’s just being civil. We’ll see, we’re having dinner tonight.” your confession hits her like a stack of bricks and she squeals loudly, gripping your hands tightly.

“I’m gonna drop dead on this expensive gravel beneath my feet. YOU and YOONGI are having dinner tonight?! Like, eating in the presence of one another civilly?!” her blue contacted eyes go wide and her mouth drops open while you nod.

“Yeah. I’m cooking dinner,” you say, confusion enrapturing your tone.

She guffaws loudly, her head lolling back as she gasps for breath. “You’re so insane! This is amazing! He totally fucking likes you!”

“Well… I don’t know about that but-” your voice is cut off by hers.

“Shush! Silence! I’ve said what I’ve said! And it’s the law!” she cries out, pressing her perfectly manicured finger to your lips.

“Sexy girl! Let’s go!” you hear Taehyung scream.

Leena turns her head to the voice before pouting. “You better call me with all the details of your date. I want to know how he looks at you, how he eats his food with you around, how he fucking sneezes. I want the whole laundry list of things that happen tonight!”

You giggle at her enthusiasm before nodding. “Yes ma’am. A laundry list of all the things Min Yoongi does to make me mad.”

She rolls her eyes before kissing your cheek happily.

“Love you, Miss Thing!”

“Love you, too!”

Standing tall, she fixes her long dress. She looks around the garden impressed before folding her arms.

“I’m really happy for you, by the way. I think things are really going to work out here.” she calls to you, starting to walk away.

“Bye Yoongi!” she yells up to the house and your eyes follow hers.

He stands on his large balcony, a cup of coffee in hand staring at you. He bows his head to her, a smirk present on his lips before looking back at you.

“Little dove, good morning.” you hear him say as he retreats back into his room.

How long was he standing there? How much had he heard?

Listening to Frederic drone on about food is something you don’t think you could ever get tired of. He makes the French cook stereotype feel so alive. You’ve been in the kitchen plenty of times, have gone through the cabinets many, many times throughout the nights when staff and the chef were sleeping. But, to hear him feeling the need to explain it all to you as you both take small steps around the gigantic kitchen is humorous and you let him do his thing.

“Now this, this is a sieve. You can strain things through it,” Frederic says, picking up the large strainer.

You hum playfully as you lean down on the island counter.

“I have made my own food before y’know,” you quip to him as he unbuttons his chef’s jacket.

He tuts his tongue as he brushes some hair back behind your ear. “Ah oui, bien sûr Madame. I know, I just want to make sure you know where everything is.”

You smile at his kindness, it must be difficult to relinquish your kitchen to others especially after being in charge for so long.

“I promise I won’t make anything dirty and I promise, cross my heart, that I will take good care of your kitchen,” you swear to him as he throws his chef’s jacket over his shoulder.

He presses both of his hands to either side of your face, wiggling them slightly with a smile.

“Merci, Madame. You are in every word parfaite. I cannot be happier to make you food in this home,” he whispers as you tilt your head with a giggle.

“Go have a good day off, have fun,” you insist as he drifts his hand over the marble countertop, as if he’s finding it hard to say goodbye.

“Oui, bien entendu. I’ll have a drink in your honor, Madame,” he says with a sigh.

You give him a wink as he exits the kitchen and you watch him slowly leave to the maid’s quarter. Your lips sputter as you look around the large, empty kitchen before sighing.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

He should be working. He opened up his computer, he grabbed all the necessary documents from both Taehyung and his office but he just can’t seem to focus.

Yoongi can smell the aroma of food coming from the kitchen and it makes him curious. What are you making? How do you even know what he likes? Do you even know how to cook?

He wants to know more about you, or try to learn more anyway.

Recalling just this morning, he can hear you so clearly -- “He’s treating me normally, I guess. One minute he’s so cold with me and the next he’s just being so sweet. I don’t know what the fuck to feel. Last night, we went at it and he came to apologize to me.”

You think he’s cold and you’re absolutely right. He always has been and it’s gotten worse these last couple of years.

He doesn’t know who he even is anymore. At least he doesn’t think he does.

Then you mentioned that he came to apologize. It must have meant a lot to you. It was weird for him to feel that aching in his chest, to feel like he fucked up. Even in the past when he’s done and said horrible things -- he never had such an ache.

Something about you just… sends him reeling.

Then he remembers what Leena said, “You better call me with all the details of your date.”

Was this a date? He didn’t even think of it in that way. It’s just two people eating… right?

Just a man and the… mother… of… his… child.

“I need whisky,” he mumbles to himself, standing up.

He hasn’t been on a date in God knows how long. He hasn’t spoken to a woman, truly spoken to one, in what feels like a millennia.

Picking up the empty bottle of whisky from the small bar caddy, he curses to himself.

He decides it’s in his best interest to go all the way to the kitchen to get a bottle. Even though his bedroom is just a floor down.

But, it certainly isn’t because you’re in the kitchen cooking. No. Not at all.

As he gets closer to the kitchen, he can smell different types of herbs and delicious meats cooking. He can smell raw peppers and onions and it makes his mouth water.

Yoongi watches you from afar for a minute, just standing on the last step of the stairwell. You’re humming, the song is sweet and calm. You have on a cute apron around your waist, with small smears of what seem to be a sauce of some kind on it.

He can feel his heart lightening at the simple sight of you. You look so… beautiful. So fucking domestic. And, he feels like he doesn’t even need the alcohol anymore because just watching you makes him drunk.

How bizarre.

“What’re we doing?” Maya whispers from next to the stairwell.

Yoongi practically jumps out of his skin at the sight of her, pressing his hand to his heart.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he whispers fiercely, trying to calm his erratic heartbeat.

He hears the older woman giggle and he rolls his eyes at her giddiness.

“I’m just getting whisky,” he mumbles aloud, still trying to keep quiet in case it would disturb you.

“Oh. I see. I can get it for you, Sir.” she replies and he grabs her wrist gently as she tries to walk away.

“No, no! I got it. It’s okay. I was just…” he can’t even complete his sentence.

What was he doing? Checking you out? He was just watching you, feeling so serene.

“You were being sweet, like I raised you. You were entranced by her.” Maya says.

He grimaces at her. “No! I was just… waiting to see if she burned down the kitchen or not.”

Maya giggles to herself before bowing her head. “Of course, Sir. I see that now.”

He rolls his eyes as she takes off to the maid’s quarter.

He watches you wave to Maya with a shy smile on your face.

“Goddammit,” he mutters, combing his fingers through his hair.

He takes small steps, trying his hardest not to disturb you as he walks by the long bar.

“Oh, hey Yoongi!”

Your voice is so sweet. Especially when you say his name.

“Smells good,” he calls to you, walking through the small hallway before appearing in the kitchen.

“Thanks! I hope you like it,” you reply happily as you stir something in the pot.

As he takes in your face, he snorts gently at a small stain by your cheek.

“I think you’re a messy cook,” he teases, walking towards you.

“Huh?” you ask confused.

Stepping in front of you, he taps his index finger to the underside of your chin.

“Look at me,” he instructs.

As you look up at him, he can feel himself falling into your eyes. You’re so doe-like and precious even when you don’t know it. It’s kind of miraculous.

Wiping his thumb over your cheek, he snorts gently. Your breath hitches in your throat as he strokes his thumb over you.

“What’re you making for dinner?” he asks, trying to distract himself from how soft your skin is.

“Well, I made a lot of things.” you reply, pulling your face away from him to look down at the pot.

He hums inquisitively, grabbing a glass off of a rack and pulling out the whisky.

“Do tell, little dove. You’re making me hungry,” he jeers, pouring himself a large portion of the alcohol.

“Well for the appetizer, I made brussel sprouts with parmesan and bacon and a small salad. For the soup, I made a soybean sprout soup. And, the main course is veal with lemon butter sauce and glazed carrots.” you tell him proudly.

He begins to smirk at how pleased you are with yourself.

“Sounds good, I’m excited,” he replies, lifting his glass.

You giggle gently, turning off the burner underneath the pot.

Leaning down on the marble island across from him, you rub your hands together.

“I hope you like it,” you whisper.

You sound shy now and it peeks his interest. You’re like a frail flower. It’s so difficult to get a read on you or put you in a category. But, maybe that’s how it should be. You shouldn’t just be one specific way, you should be well rounded. And he thinks you’ve got that.

“I’m sure I will. Although, didn’t I put in the contract that you shouldn’t be eating so much?”

Finally for once it doesn’t come out as gruff and angry, it was meant to be a joke. Luckily for him, it came out that way.

You find yourself smiling, almost having the urge to stick your tongue out at him playfully.

“I haven’t been able to cook in a long time, this feels nice. Eating a lot once in a while isn’t so bad,” you counter good-naturedly.

He raises his glass at your words. “Touche. Little dove, touche.”

You lean your head on your shoulder, your fingers skimming over each other as you look down at the marble beneath you. For once, the silence isn’t awkward or uncomfortable. It’s pleasant.

“Was it nice to see Leena this morning?” he knows the answer, but he wants to see you smile wider.

And so you do. Brimming from ear to ear, you nod.

“So nice! I’m so happy that I got to see her,” you admit, looking up at him.

“Well, she can come over whenever she wants. It’s in the contract,” he suggests.

“I didn’t know if I wanted her to come over yet, y’know. With Sera around and stuff…” your answer falls flat as Yoongi chuckles across from you.

“That’d be like putting two piranhas in a tank and seeing who wins,” he chuckles.

You snort gently, pointing at him. “Exactly.”

He watches you fix things up around the kitchen, cleaning as you go.

And finally he speaks after some time. “What can I do to help?”

Humming you shrug with a smirk. "I got it. Why don't you go relax for a while?" you suggest.

As you go to lift the pot, Yoongi whistles loudly as if to tell you to stop.

"I read that pregnant women shouldn't be lifting anything heavy. Don't even think about it. I got it," he insists, waving his hand for you to move.

"You read something?" your voice is wrapped with humor as you move over.

"Very funny, little dove. Go set up the table," he instructs with an ever present smirk on his face.

Yoongi leans back in his seat, his stomach was full of delicious food by now but he can't stop picking at his plate. A true testament to how great of a cook you are.

"Damn." he whispers, wiping his mouth with his napkin.

You smirk across the table, your arms folding with pride.

"Good?" you ask softly, grabbing your drink.

"Very good. I'm impressed," he says as he slings his arm over the top of his chair.

You giggle gently, your head lolling back to look at the clear night sky.

"Who taught you how to cook?" he asks, watching as you count the stars.

So here it is. Will he be as truthful as you? Will he talk to you?

"My parents. My dad always liked cooking more than my mother. She was sick a lot when I was young. Always in the hospital. So my dad got comfort from making her food and I used to take it to her," you answer, looking back down at him.

Yoongi nods gently, it's starting to click in his mind. "That's why you hate hospitals?"

"That's why I hate hospitals. There was a time when she was admitted for a bad stomach ache and she got worse in the hospital because the bedding and the nurses weren't clean." you reply breathlessly.

The father of your child cringes at the thought, taking a sip of his whisky.

"You?"

Yoongi takes a deep, slow breath. He stares at your face and the task at hand is daunting. If people didn't already know him, he didn't open up. But, he should open up to you.

Or he thinks so anyway. You're having his child, you should know about him. And maybe if he speaks his history then it will break the cycle. Then he won't turn into his parents, he won't have a fucked up kid like himself.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," you say quickly.

You can see him wrought with nervousness. Just the prospect of letting things out must terrify him.

"No, I should talk about them. If not with you then surely a therapist," he jokes out of worry.

But, then he looks at your face. He feels that sense of dizzying calm once more. Like everything is going to be okay.

He chugs the rest of his whisky, his mouth watering and grimacing.

"No, I don't know how to cook. I'm not even sure my parents know how to cook-" he lets out a breath, letting the warm fire of the alcohol in his belly keep him going, "-they never took care of me. I was born and they were relieved to have a boy so they didn't have to try again."

You hum sadly at his words, tucking your legs beneath you as he runs his hand over his face.

"Maya has always taken care of me. She's always loved and cared for me. She's my mother by all accounts, if I'm being honest. My father was a very big disciplinarian… if that's what you want to call it. Most people would say abusive," he says, pouring himself another glass of whisky.

"Kneeling on rice, getting hit with sharp objects, burning cigarettes out. Things like that," he waves off the notion with his hand, shivering while even speaking the words.

Your heart breaks for him, thinking of how painful that must have been when he was a child.

"I haven't seen my parents in… four years now, since I got married. I hate them." he spits at the ground beneath his feet.

You can see the emotional turmoil he's reliving. You can't imagine how difficult that is.

"I'm sorry," you whisper and he shakes his head fiercely.

Picking up his fork, he taps it gently to the fine china as he thinks.

"So I grew up hating authority because of them and the teachers at Sairmount. They always said I should be doing better because of my position and what I would grow into. I hated that. Even when I tried my best I received no praise, and if I made one mistake it was like the end of the world. So I ended up just kind of… becoming a shell."

You nod to his words, your index finger swirling around the rim of your glass.

"What else, little dove?" he asks softly.

As he tilts his head, you take in his handsome features. He's just a product of his environment. You wonder what he would be like if he could thrive.

"I heard that you go to BDSM clubs and stuff, is that because you feel the need to put people in pain like you were when you were younger?" you ask, trying to be considerate of his feelings.

He takes a sharp breath through his teeth almost as if you've burned him.

"Jesus. You might as well be my therapist," he mumbles, running his hand over his face.

But, he doesn't feel awkward talking to you. He likes this. He appreciates how you listen. How your eyes stay soft and you don't judge him.

"When I was younger -- I was probably sixteen when I developed a taste for it. I was getting angry and violent. I was breaking shit and I needed to funnel that into something. So I started going to a club and learned how to be a dom. It was about the comfort of being in charge. I would have a sub and tell them to jump. They would say how high. I thrived off of being in charge. Thrived off people doing my bidding sexually. It just felt right for me to tell someone what to do and have them want to do it for me. I was in charge, people listened to me, I didn't have to do things others wanted. People did what I wanted them to do. I've toned it down since then."

"You were pretty dominating with me," you offer softly.

He chuckles at how innocent you look, his index finger swiping slowly over his lower lip. "That's because you're so sweet. I wanted to wreck you."

With a gentle giggle, you put your elbow on the table before resting your head on your hand.

"You kind of did," you reply, putting your hand on your stomach.

His eyes follow your hand and he begins to smirk above his glass.

"Clearly," he whispers, his eyes slowly drifting up your body to your swollen tits.

He licks his lips slowly, his teeth tugging at his bottom lip gently.

He never understood the attraction to pregnant women like his friend Jimin. The younger man was obsessed with the notion of it and Yoongi couldn't possibly begin to grasp it. But now, with you sitting here before him, he might be beginning to understand.

Averting his eyes from you, he tries to keep his rampant thoughts at bay.

"What else do you want to know, little dove?" he asks, trying to distract himself.

Your cheeks puff out as you think, your fingers combing through your hair gently.

"Sera? What's with her. If you hate her so much why did you get married to her?" you whisper.

Well, that's something to kill the sexual mood he was starting to feel.

He spits on the ground at the simple name of her. He stares far off into the distance, his eyes lingering on a grove of trees Baeksoo has so kindly planted.

"Sera…" he mumbles, stretching out his legs.

You might as well know. You aren't going anywhere in his life.

"Jesus, I think about it everyday and it still makes me mad," he chuckles to himself, the sound bitter and full of resentment.

You watch his face contort in pain, just the simple memory making it hard to withstand.

Without a second thought you're moving your chair. The sound is loud as you move the heavy metal and he watches you with amused eyes. Finally, your seat is next to him and you huff out gently.

"What?" he asks gently as you plop back down.

You grab his hand, intertwining your fingers to bring him peace. His head lolls back against the chair, his eyes fluttering shut at the simple move. It's a simple thing to hold hands but it feels powerful when it's you.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," you say to him.

His thumb drifts over the back of your hand, his eyes opening to the numerous stars that hang brightly in the sky.

"Everyone knows I hate her but no one truly knows why. Maya, Joon, Hoseok, they know. Hell, Hoseok dives deep into her bitter cunt at night and he knows." he shakes his head gently, his eyes flitting from star to star.

You begin to bite your lip nervously as he squeezes your hand tighter.

"I didn't always hate her. I loved her once. I loved the prospect of her anyway," he breathes out, his hand gripping tighter at yours, "I was engaged at fourteen. It was mandatory, the leech's parents were friends with my parents. Their company was going down the drain, they almost had to declare bankruptcy. So this was the easiest thing for both parties. It's very normal in the high profile life to be engaged to someone else for money. It didn't bother me at all that I was engaged, so were the people around me. I thought I was going to have a life like Namjoon."

He snorts at the simple thought and mindlessly he tugs your hand with his over your stomach.

Just the thought of his baby inside of you brings him peace.

With a gentle sigh, he continues. "She didn't go to school with us and I had only seen her a few times at balls and galas. She was annoying back then and she was always brisk with people. But I liked that, I guess. Because I was the same way. I had a childish crush on her for so long and it kept growing as we got older."

He stops talking only to down another glass of whiskey. He closes his eyes as you run your hand comfortingly over his. "When I moved into this house, I had it renovated to please her. I did anything and everything to make her happy. And I was so… excited to have someone that was mine. Someone to spend the rest of my life with. I didn't want our marriage to be like my parents. And, now it's worse."

You find how sad he is depressing. Frowning, you click your teeth softly.

"I'm so sorry," you whisper.

Shaking his head, Yoongi looks at you. He gives you a sad smile. It's heart wrenching to look at his handsome face so distraught.

Even if he can be an asshole sometimes, you can understand him better now. That's all you wanted. You just wanted to be able to connect the dots.

"It was the night of our wedding, that's when I became aware of how awful of a person Sera is." he says, staring off into the distance.

He couldn't understand why she wanted to get married on New Years. It's freezing cold but if it makes her happy then he should do it. It'll be his duty as a husband anyhow.

"Come!" Taehyung whines to him as he sits in the booth.

"I'm not having sex with a woman the day before I'm getting married. That'd be such a dickish thing to do," he counters as Taehyung wraps his arms around the stripper beside him.

"You've been celibate for a year or some shit. You abstaining for the Lord or for the sake of your new bride is not going to make you a born again virgin, okay?" the younger man asks with a laugh, running his hand over the stripper's pert backside.

Rolling his eyes, the Kisung CEO takes a sip from his drink.

"It's not about being a born again virgin, you moron. It's about fidelity. It's about trust. She and I agreed that we would just be for each other." Yoongi barks out gruffly.

Taehyung grimaces at the simple thought. "Fine. Well whatever pact you have with your blushing new bride is depressing me. I'm going to get my dick wet with… Luna. That's your name, right?" the hotel CEO asks the woman on his arm.

She giggles loudly, the sound frightening and way too forced. "Laura, silly!"

"Yeah. That. Bye Hyung. Try to cheer the fuck up or something." Tae calls, picking the stripper up with his strong arms before swinging her over his shoulder.

Yoongi snorts loudly, his eyes flitting from here to there in the large strip club. This wasn't for him anymore. He would be married now. To a woman all his.

He's been living in this fantasy. Waking up on weekend mornings next to his wife, eating breakfast together. Having a few kids. Being able to enjoy each other's company.

He loves the idea of that. He's gone through so much terrible pain in his lifetime. Maybe, fate is telling him he deserves a reward now.

Standing up, he finishes the rest of his drink. He tosses a few hundred bucks onto the table before heading out.

He knows it's not customary to see his bride the night before the wedding but, maybe he can just have a talk with her. He's dying to see her.

For once, Yoongi let someone else take the penthouse besides him. Sera should be fully comfortable before her big day.

They bought out the whole hotel. She wanted to be married in Italy on New Years. She wanted diamonds dripping from the fucking ceiling and she would have it. She would have it all.

The walk from the strip club to the hotel wasn't far. Yoongi can see the lights on in the penthouse and his heart begins to hammer in delight at the thought of seeing her.

She's so fucking beautiful. Albeit, she can be a little irritating at times but who isn't? She's almost godly in his eyes.

He's been waiting for this day since he was fourteen. He can remember when Namjoon got engaged. How fucking against it he was.

Joon always wanted to do things his way. He wanted to pick who he was with, he wanted to be happy on his own. He despised Yoona for years before their big day a year ago. Then he found out how similar they are. He fell in love with everything she's in love with.

Yoongi hopes it'll be the same.

The ride up the elevator to the penthouse is quiet. Gentle muzak plays that seems to lull him into a false sense of security.

Sera might be really big on traditions. She might have him sit in the living room for them just to talk but that's okay too. Whatever she wants.

The elevator opens silently and Yoongi fixes his blazer in the hallway mirror. He smiles to himself softly, looking like nothing can bring him down from this cloud.

Until he hears it. Until he hears the gentle groaning of a man in his sexual pleasure.

"Oh fuck, Sera. Do it again, you filthy slut." he hears and his world comes crashing down around him.

"Yeah, fuck. You like that? Your cock is so much bigger than Yoongi's. I want you to come play with me during the week while he's at work," she sounds breathless.

The CEO's eyes flutter shut and he grips onto the table before him to keep him steady.

"Yeah. I'd bet you'd fucking like that. I bet you love the idea of me fucking your little cunt while your husband is away at work. Let me cum in your pussy before the cuck gets home. You'll let him in this pussy with my cum inside of you," the voice is that of Sera's driver. The one man Yoongi never even gave any thought to.

His hand feels for the wall. His legs are shaking by now and he slowly slides down the gold wall, pressing his hand over his mouth.

"Cum on my cock, you fucking slut."

The sound of her orgasming will never leave his brain. He can hear how pleased she is.

Yoongi in his past has had sex with others too. But, they promised to be faithful to one another. He believed her.

He can feel his eyes welling up with tears as he squeezes them shut tighter.

He thought fate was giving him a helping hand. He was going to be happy! What has he done so wrong in his life for misery to consistently stay?!

Heavy breathing is heard throughout the silent penthouse.

"Why did you promise that stupid fuck you would be only for him?" Jungmo, the driver, asks breathlessly.

Sera giggles, a sound once so adorable it brought Yoongi to his knees.

"Because I want his fucking money. There's no prenup if he thinks I'm all for him. He genuinely thinks that I love him. He thinks I care about whatever the fuck has happened in his miserable past. Do you know that he told me that his dad used to burn cigarettes out on his skin? I was supposed to feel sorry for him." Jungmo and Sera laugh along with one another.

Yoongi's mouth opens at the sheer atrocity he's listening to. She's so fucking cruel. How did he never see this? How could he have this happen to him?

"You were supposed to feel sorry for that billionaire while you're only sitting barely comfortable at seven million!?"

"I know, right?! The fucking nerve! Like, he doesn't even understand that my life has been so much worse! I had to almost go fucking bankrupt! Who gives a fuck about your sad past? What about me?"

The CEO tugs at the blazer fabric situated above his heart. He clamps his hand tighter over his mouth to stifle the sob raring to break free from his throat.

"I can't wait to take all his fucking money and leave him with only his sad little memories."

Crawling over to the elevator, he pushes the button softly. Praying to God that it doesn't make any noise when it opens.

She's such a cruel bitch. So fucking vile.

He stands up on shaky legs as the door opens without a sound. Pushing the button for the floor below him, he waits until the door closes.

He waits until he is safe in his room.

He wails loudly, falling onto the carpeted flooring of the hotel room. He gasps for air, hands digging and pulling at his hair.

He cries for an hour, maybe more. Time seemingly stops in his distraught state.

When he calms himself down, he pulls out his phone. He crawls over to the bar caddy, wiping viciously at the tears he's spilled for the woman upstairs.

Yoongi doesn't even grab a glass, he just pulls the bottle of whisky down to the floor.

Sitting back against the long bar of the room, he dials the only number he can right now.

The sound of the phone ringing is so loud, it makes him want to weep all over again.

"Yoongi? It's two in the morning, what the fuck?" Namjoon calls blearily, through the phone.

"Joon… Please come to my room." his voice cracks and breaks as he picks up the bottle of whisky.

"Jesus, are you okay?" his best friend asks quickly.

"I need… I need a prenup. Please. Come." Yoongi begs, lifting the bottle to his lips.

"I'm coming! Hold on!" Joon calls to him before the line goes dead.

He gulps down the whisky at a ferocious speed, the liquor swirling and settling in his guts. The fire flaming and goading him on to no avail.

"YOU FUCKING WHORE!" he screams at the top of his lungs.

Yoongi launches the bottle across the room, burying his face into his knees as the sound of glass echoes all around him.

"Oh Yoongi. I'm so sorry," you whisper, clutching tighter to his hand.

Yoongi finds himself laughing at the memory now. He was so blind back then. So lovestruck.

"Nothing that isn't fixed now, little dove. Now we're both trapped in this marriage." his voice is devoid of emotion as he picks up the liquor bottle.

You can see how hurt he is even now. How reliving the memory is something akin to death to him.

You lean in towards his body. You press your lips to his cheek and he grabs you tighter at the feeling.

"Maybe that's why I liked you in the club? Because you seemed so completely opposite of the whore that lives in my house," he says finally as you pull away.

He turns his face to you, your lips just mere inches apart.

Yoongi lifts his hand, placing it gently on your cheek.

"You're a good girl, Y/N. You're so kind and sweet. Fucking understanding. You're going to be a great mother. I'm so sorry that you have to deal with me. Deal with an asshole every day. It isn't fair to you," he whispers, his thumb grazing over the apple of your cheek.

His hand is so warm against your skin, so soft. He's being so gentle.

"You're not an asshole. Not truly." you reply softly.

With a snort, he rolls his eyes. "See. You're almost too kind."

You giggle as his hand drifts down the column of your neck, his thumb rubbing over your jawline.

"I'm serious. You can be an asshole, for sure. But it's because of all the terrible things that have happened to you. If you were happy, really and truly happy. You might flourish. You might be able to find yourself again." you reply.

It comes out as a suggestion but it's really a wish. No one should ever be put through what he has had happen to him.

He tilts his head unsurely, pulling away from you.

"You're going to be a great dad. I won't let you be anything but a good dad to your child. No one is perfect, Yoongi. We can do this together." you say, earnestly.

Together.

The word makes his heart rate pick up speed.

You're pretty perfect in his eyes.

He can tell as you sit with one another, how heavy your eyelids are getting.

"You're tired," he observes.

"No, I'm okay!" you reply quickly to him.

He clicks his teeth, eyes narrowing at you. "We're going to be truthful with each other from here on in. Are you tired?"

With a hesitant hum, you nod. "A little. The baby makes me tired a lot these days."

"Okay." Yoongi whispers finitely.

Standing up, he moved your chair for you. With a simple grunt, he picks you up in his arms bridal style.

"I can walk!" you whine, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"So can I." he jeers cutely.

Wading with sure steps through the house, you find how easy it is for him to look down at you. His eyes are soft when they look upon you now. Like telling you about his life has taken a huge weight off of his shoulders.

He kicks open your bedroom door with a smirk.

"There would have been a time I would have died to bring you up here to ravage you," he says, goodnaturedly.

"You still can." you sing softly as he lays you down on your bed.

"We'll see, hmm?" he whispers as he lifts the covers for you.

"Stay," you mumble, arranging the pillows to your liking.

"You want me to sleep with you?!" Yoongi feels frightened at the notion.

"Yeah… just stay. Don't leave me," you whisper as you close your eyes.

He hesitantly walks around to the other side of the bed. He fumbles with his pants and his shirt almost embarrassingly so.

Yoongi hasn't laid with anyone in years. He hasn't thought about doing so in ages.

"Did you leave?" your voice is just above a whisper.

He watches you for a second, how pretty and serene you look with your hair splayed over the pillow.

"No, little dove. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere," he replies, laying down beside you.

Swallowing thickly, he gets comfortable under the same covers as you.

This is bizarre.

Tiredly, you pull his hand. His eyes go wide as you situate it over your stomach.

"It's not a big deal, Yoongi. Just sleep." You mumble as you turn onto your back.

He can feel the tiny bump developing under his hand.

It is a big deal.

To him.

He brushes some hair out of your face gently.

Maybe Sera wasn't his start to a new life. Maybe it's you.

Next Chapter ---->

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[lubdubsworld]

Insatiable ( Jungkook x OC) Chapter 2

Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x OC

Rating 18+

Genre : Vampire Au!!!! , DILF! Jungkook ! Bodyguard AU! Babysitter OC!   Age difference!!! [ bet you’ve never seen all of this in one fic before? ]

[ Some notes : Born Vampires stop aging when they turn twenty five.  Turned vampires stop aging when they’re turned. ]

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

“You alright?” Somi asked gently, watching me fling  my backpack into the corner of the room with enough force to dislodge one of the wooden panels on the wall, the shelf crashing and bringing down the two potted plants on it. The sound of ceramic shattering made me wince, regret churning in my stomach. 

“Yeah...yeah. Oh, God. I’m so sorry, Somi.. I broke your pots-”

“Never mind the pots...why do you look so upset? Have you been crying?” She demanded , reaching for me, hands curling around my wrists and drawing me into a hug and I swallowed, my throat dry and eyes swollen from all the tears that I’d wrung out of them. 

Outside the room, Namjoon stood guard, at the door and I felt guilty remembering how the past three hours had gone. 

After confronting Jungkook, I’d stormed off in righteous indignation and poor Namjoon had been forced to follow. 

He had kept a discreet distance as I climbed to the tallest ridge on the roof, scaling the gables with ease and I knew he had been terrified at the prospect of me falling. 

Immortal or not a three hundred foot drop to the ground would be something that would hurt.

And it was my bodyguard’s job to make sure I did not get hurt. 

When he wasn’t busy fucking other women that is. 

I gripped my sister harder, fingers curling into the fir of her coat as I tried to catch my bearing. 

“Do you know Helena?” I whispered, pulling away to look at her. Somi’s face fell,eyes filling with sympathy.

“Oh, no. Was she here?” She asked gently, reaching out and cupping my cheeks and my lips wobbled. 

“Why didn’t you warn me that he was in a relationship?” my voice shook and Somi shook her head. 

“He’s not!! God, Helena doesn’t do relationships. Jungkook and her.... well, I’m not sure but they’re just fuck buddies..... barely that. You know she’s from the Kim clan right? Those bloodsuckers never settle for one partner. “ She muttered. 

I stared at her.

“He called me a child and then told me he’ll tell dad if i try to make a move on him.” I whispered. 

Somi flinched.

“Sera....”

“It was humiliating and painful and I don’t ever want to think about it, ever again.” I muttered. 

She sighed. 

“It’s not like you don’t have men dying for a glance from you, Sera. You forget that you’re literally the most beautiful woman in the clan. If he rejects you, you’re definitely not the one missing out in that equation.” 

I nodded, misery seeping into me. My sob-fest on the roof hadn’t been wasted. I was angry at first but now, a sort of resigned acceptance had taken the place of my anger. 

 The look on Jungkook’s face had been too real, the emotion behind his rejection too potent for me to get over. I wasn’t sure I could change his mind.

Wasn’t even sure if I wanted to. 

“Was he very hurtful ? You know, if you tell dad, he’ll hire someone else and-”

“No.” I said immediately. “ I won’t do that. It’s not his fault, it’s minge. I acted out like a...well a child to be honest. He doesn’t owe me anything and he’s always been obvious in his disinterest. I was just too blinded my own attraction to consider that it wasn’t reciprocated.” I grimaced. 

God, I’d been an idiot and Jungkook’s words had knocked some good sense into my head. But I did care for him and his son and they needed this job. I wouldn’t put his job in jeopardy just because I didn’t get my way. 

I was better than that.

“Alright... Dad wanted to meet you for breakfast tomorrow.... He sounded serious. Do you know what that’s about?”

I groaned, when I remembered the reason my dad wanted to see me these days. 

“Dad wants me to start meeting men now. He thinks I’m old enough now that i’ve turned 21. He’s been badgering me for a whole entire month but I kept putting him off because of...well, because of Jungkook.” I admitted. 

Somi looked worried.

“You want to ? If you don’t we can talk to dad and-”

“No-” I shook my head.” I’m just gonna agree.” 

Somi looked surprised.

“Are you sure? Sera you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to-”

I smiled weakly. 

“I’m not going to be allowed to stay single forever Somi. Especially not when the entirety of dad’s day is spent trying to chase suitors away from the door. Do you know the Count from Jeju Do...dude’s a whole seven centuries old and he looks like a toad. He apparently tried to ask about me and Dad’s been freaking out.  “ I shuddered. 

Somi laughed.

“ That’s what you get for being you. But dad’s right. Keeping you away from everyone is only inviting more interest. And we don’t want you to be with someone insufferable.” She ruffled my hair and I hugged her again sighing into her shoulders.

No I didn’t want to be with someone who just saw me as some kind of a possession to be owned. I wanted someone nice and kind. A handsome man who did the right thing .  Someone who maybe, worked hard to give his kid a safe and protected life, someone who didn’t shun away from hard work and was a gentleman as well. 

Someone like-

“Someone other than Jungkook.” Somi said gently reading my mind. 

“I really liked him.” I whispered softly, feeling tears spring again. 

God, I thought I was all out of tears for Jeon Jung Kook but apparently I was wrong. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I took extra care with my makeup the next morning, because my father usually had a ton of business meetings during his breakfast. I didn’t usually bother but , I was going to agree to his suggestions today and well, nothing wrong in delighting my father. And nothing made him happier than seeing me prance about  with pretty feminine clothes . 

My dad, for all his jovial cheerful air, loved his position as the head of the Hwang clan. And as his most prized possession , I was the apple of his eye. And while he didn’t treat me as an object or anything ( my dad loved me deeply and his affection was always evident. ) , there was no mistaking the fact that my dad enjoyed the power that came with being my guardian. Powerful men were willing to bend to his will, just for a chance to be with me. 

I sound insufferable, don’t I?

Trust me I’m not. 

The vampires that court me are usually assholes. Entitled, brain dead assholes .  When I opened the door in the morning, dressed in a short summer dress and ready to meet my dad, I was surprised to see Jungkook standing guard outside. He straightened away from the wall where he was fiddling with his phone, his gaze flitting to me, eyes cold and blank. 

I bowed lightly, not smiling.

“Mr. Jeon. I have a breakfast date with my father and then I’ll be heading to the cottage. I’m also meeting a friend of mine at the Art Museum in the evening so i’ll need the Mercedes brought around to pick me up maybe at 5.00PM.” I said briskly, glancing at him. 

My face flamed red when I noticed his gaze, fixed steadily on my ass. I cleared my throat angrily and his eyes met mine, a slow lazy grin playing around his mouth. 

“You look different.” He commented , shamelessly giving me another once over. 

The nerve. 

I swallowed, willing myself not to blush harder.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” 

He chuckled.

“That dress barely covers your butt, angel. You sure you want to head to daddy dearest, dressed like that?” The way he said daddy made my skin heat up. 

I felt my jaw come unhinged. 

“That’s...that is none of your damn business.” I said shrilly.

He gave me another once over.

“Okay, then. If that’s what you’re into...fine. Let’s go.” 

Gritting my teeth, i tried to keep my face neutral. I would not give him the satisfaction of knowing that he got to me. I would not. 

I walked ahead of him , my fists clenched and my jaw tight and I felt incredibly upset because the day had barely begun and I was already wound tight. I was supposed to be relaxed and clear headed while talking to my father but Jeon Jungkook had muddled my brains as usual. 

I took deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. 

“Sera, wait.” His voice made me pause and I stopped, turning around to glare at him.

“What?” I snapped. 

He sighed, deeply. I watched as he ran his hands through his hair, tongue pressing into his cheek the way it did when he was upset. 

“About last night-”

I felt my pulse quicken. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it!” I said quickly, turning back around to leave but his fingers came around my arm, gripping hard . 

“Well tough luck. Because I do!” He said sharply. 

I whimpered, pain blooming up my arm and he swore, loosening his grip.

“I keep forgetting you’re human.” He muttered, “ I’m sorry... I just... I wanted to apologize for how i handled things last night. I was twenty once and I should have been more understanding.”

I closed my eyes. Oh, God no. Please, please for the love of God, let me hate you in peace. Don’t apologize and make me fall in love all over again.

“Its fine.” I choked out. “ You were right. I was out of line.”

“You deserve better.” He said quickly, eyes flitting away from my face and I felt a sharp pang in my heart. God , this was agonizing. 

“Jungkook-”

“It’s just that you’re...well you know who you are. You can’t be with ...someone like me and trust me you don’t want to be with someone like me either. I know its appealing, the whole illusion of stability. older man, has a kid, has his life together .....but that’s not all it means .” He gave me a tired smile.

I bit my lips, ot replying and he went on. 

 “ I have baggage, a shit ton of it and I would have to be especially cruel to unload something like that on a girl barely out of her teens. I’ve done shit I’m not proud of ,....but ruining your life, I’m gonna draw the line there.” He smiled , looking a whole decade younger and I closed my eyes.

I was back to square one, I thought miserably. He had my whole heart. 

“ So we’re good right?” He prompted and I exhaled, giving him a smile.

“We’re good.”

“That’s good. Because my son loves you and I would rather we be friends. You’re just like a daughter to me. ” He touched my face gently, pulling away at once, the small contact leaving fire in its wake and I had to clench my fists . 

A daughter?!! Is he out of his damned mind? 

“Okay.” 

“Let’s go then.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Jungkook, please sit down. You’re like my son and I don’t want you hovering like you’re part of the backdrop. I’ve trusted you with my entire life.” My father beamed, pointing at me and i laughed. 

Jungkook bowed respectfully, taking the chair next to me. 

“How are you , my buttercup?” My father asked softly, fingers gripping mine and I smiled.

“I’m well, father. Do you like my dress?” 

Next to me Jungkook coughed and I shot him a dirty look. 

“It looks ravishing on you. The prettiest flower in my estate is my daughter, do you agree Jungkook?” My father prompted and I swallowed the smirk that threatened. 

Poor Jungkook was going to learn that being my bodyguard meant singing my praises twenty four seven or at least anytime my father was in hearing distance. 

“Uh..” Jungkook’s eyes flitted between the two of us, “ Yes sir. Your daughter is quite lovely.” 

I beamed at him and he looked away quickly. 

Coward. 

Turning back to my dad I held my hand out. 

“DAd, you wanted to see me about something?”

“Yes dearest. You know the Kim clan’s matriarch has been after me. Three of her great great great grandsons have come of age recently. And all three of them are set to take over some very lucrative businesses. They are good men and apparently they’re quite smitten with you. They say you know of them from school?”

I sighed.

“Do you know their names?” I prompted.

“Mingyu, Minjae and Yugyeom.” My father said briskly. 

 Ugh.

 “ They’ve asked me out before, yes.” 

“Uh..Excuse me.. Could I get a refill?” Jungkook said quietly next to me and i turned, watching him wave to one of the footmen. 

“Jungkook, are you thirsty?” My father asked brightly. 

An idea formed in my head, wicked and dangerous. 

“Perhaps, he should get a taste of the Hwang Elixir?” I said innocently. 

My father’s gaze snapped to mine. 

A small frown made its way to his face. 

“Are you sure? I’m not sure if Jungkook would be comfortable-”

I turned to him, purposely flipping my long hair off my shoulders exposing my throat . Jungkook’s eyes went to the curve of my neck at once and i felt a sick sort of triumph when his eyes flashed red.

“Oh, no no...” I crooned, leaning in closer. “ I’m sure you aren’t uncomfortable , are you Jungkook ssi? After all, I am just like a daughter to you , aren’t I?” I stared right at him, fluttering my lashes and I saw his jaw clench. 

“Of course, Ms. Hwang.” He said briskly, glaring at me. I played with the small gold chain around my neck, letting my fingers flutter over my pulse , drawing his gaze there.

“Well, that is true ...” My father looked uncertain, but I gave him a gentle nod and a smile. 

“Well, as a special guest, I suppose you can enjoy our hospitality , Jeon. Why don’t you take a drink from -”

I moved closer, pressing up against him and Jungkook sighed, lips closing over my neck, and I felt my eyes flutter shut at the wet warmth of his mouth . 

It was intoxicating, the way he used one hand to grip my neck gently, the other on my waist to steady me and when his fangs pierced through, I could sense the warm liquid flood his mouth and Jungkook’s entire body relaxed, a strangled moan escaping him. 

“---my daughter’s wrist.” My father finished and I felt Jungkook stiffen next to me. 

This time I couldn’t stop the grin that bloomed on my face. 

My eyes dropped to his lap and yup, his pants definitely looked a tad tighter. 

“Did I do good, Mr Jeon? Or should I call you daddy? ” I whispered quietly , fluttering my lashes at him and his fangs retracted and he pulled away from me, shoving me back into my own chair quickly. 

My father was slightly slack jawed. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hwang. “ Jungkook muttered and I laughed.

“I do believe it is I whom you should be apologizing to. It is  my  neck you just mauled. ” I smiled brightly staring at Jungkook and if looks could kill, I would have a thousand wooden stakes through my heart right about now. ‘

Take that Mr. Jeon. 

Daughter, my ass. 

“My apologies , Sera.” He said stiffly. 

My father laughed raucously.

“Ahh, you must be used to the neck, my dear boy. understandable understandable. it is how we used to do it in the old days, after all . These younglings with all their etiquette and feminism and what not....it’s hard to keep up..... But now you must tell me? Is my daughter not the sweetest you’ve ever had?” 

I choked, coughing. Oh God, sometimes my 900 year old father had no idea how he sounded. 

Jungkook looked like he had swallowed a lemon. 

“She’s certainly ...” He stopped, probably realizing that any adjective at the end of that sentence would sound entirely wrong. 

“Delicious?” I prompted, blinking innocently and Jungkook shot me another glare. 

“Well, nevermind nevermind. .... So, tell me dearest, will you be willing to meet the Kim boys?”

I sighed.

“I like Yugyeom. I cannot stand Minjae. I don’t know enough about Mingyu to make any judgement. How about I meet Mingyu and if I don’t hit it off with him, I will allow Yugyeom to court me....” I said softly.

I glanced at Jungkook but he was studiously looking away. 

“Very well my dear. Do you have any plans today?”

“I’m meeting a friend at the museum.”

My father’s eyes widened.

“Well isn’t that a wonderful coincidence. Mingyu's law firm is just a block away if I’m not mistaken. I’ll ask the boy to pick you up afterwards. Have dinner with him and you can tell me tonight of your choice.” My father smiled briskly.

“Yes, father.” 

“Jungkook..” My father prompted and the vampire glanced up.

“Yes, sir?”

“Take good care of her. At the restaurant, make sure you stay at hearing distance. “ 

“Yes sir.” Jungkook bowed and I groaned. 

In other words, let my father know if I behaved appropriately. 

i pouted and my father waggled his finger at me.

“No, no no.. Missy. I’m going to make sure you keep your end of the bargain . You need to give these men a proper chance before you reject them. “ 

I nodded.

“And you must ask Either Somi or Seolhyun to dress you. No jeans or one of those ridiculous gowns that make you look like a pastry.”

There was no mistaking the snort that came from my right and i glared at Jungkook before turning to my dad.

“Yes, father.” 

“Good, now run along the pair of you. “

I stood up, kissing my father fondly on his forehead.

“I love you.” I whispered. 

“You are my whole entire joy, dearest. “ He kissed my hand gently, eyes warm and soft.

As we left the room, Jungkook let out a sigh.

“I am never having a meal with you two again.” He ground out and I laughed. 

“Anything you say, daddy.” I grinned. 

Jungkook groaned. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As luck would have it,  my friend cancelled . 

So at six the evening, I finished locking up the cottage as the last of the kids left, fumbling with the lock while a tired Joo Won napped in his father’s arms, head resting on Jungkook’s shoulders. I felt myself soften at the picture they made, Jungkook singing softly , fingers brushing his son’s hair back as he rocked him gently. 

“I’ll be a while... I needed to get ready. Why don’t you put him to bed? Who’s watching him tonight?”

“Hwasa and Moonbyul offered. I’ll drop you off in your room and head to the north wing. What time are you meeting the jerkwad?” He said casually.

I blinked rapidly, confused.

“I’m sorry... the jerkwad?” 

Jungkook shrugged.

“It’ just a fact. Most men are absolute jerks at twenty one.” He shrugged. 

i felt myself bristling on behalf of the unknown Mingyu.

“That is absolutely unfair. My brothers were incredibly kind and good.”

“To you perhaps. Because they don’t have to impress you. But men act differently when they’re trying to get between a woman’s thighs. They’re jerks when they want to get laid...” He grinned.

“Is that why you act like a jerk to me? ” I smiled evilly and he rolled his eyes.

“Oh, darling we both know I don’t have to act in any different way to get you into my bed . I just have to do this.” He smirked, curling his finger in a come hither gesture.  

I felt my pulse pound and I tried not to let his words get to my head. He was flirting , yes but it was a joke. He was joking with me because the very idea of being with me was a joke to him. 

And I couldn’t forget that. 

Rolling my eyes, I pulled on the lock a couple more times to make sure the door was well locked. 

“Shall we leave?” He prompted watching me wrestle the backpack onto my shoulders. I grunted under the weight. 

“Of course. Let’s go.” 

We walked in silence for a few seconds.

“So, how’s he doing? With stuff?” Jungkook asked gently and I felt warmth bloom in my chest. 

“He’s very advanced for his age Jungkook. You’ve done a wonderful job with him. He’s able to read and he has a beautiful l writing hand. He’s learned his multiplication tables all the way up to seven and he has the voice of an angel. Which I think he gets from you. ” I smiled, reaching out to brush the back of Joowon’s head. 

Jungkook smiled softly, the late evening sun painting his perfect features in a soft golden glow. 

“Your father was kind enough to support me the first few years when i had him. I didn’t trust anyone enough to leave him with them and well... i needed to put a roof over our head.” He sighed . 

I touched his arm, giving it a small squeeze.

“I understand. I’m glad you’re here. He’ll grow up well in our clan.   “

“And he has a lot of excellent men to look up to here...He needs a good role model, someone kind and amazing who can inspire him to be hardworking and fair. ” He smiled.

I bit my lips.

“I think he’s had that all along. ” I said quietly.

Jungkook’s breath caught for a second and the air between us changed. I licked my lips. 

“Jungkook you’re a good father. You know that right?” I said after a few more seconds of silence. 

He laughed.

“Am I really? I wonder.” 

“He loves you.” I breathed , “  You’re all he talks about.... Today, one of the other kids tried to say that his father was brave because he helped someone who was stuck in an elevator. you know what Joowon did? He listed some twenty different incidents where you’ve helped people out....And he looked so proud.”

Jungkook’s ear looked red in the brightly lit garden. 

“i was just doing my job. Most of those times, I was in danger.” He grunted. 

“And yet, you did the right thing. “ I whispered. “ And your son was watching. And he’s learned the importance of doing the right thing even when you’re scared. That’s a life lesson that isn’t easy to learn.”

“Can’t disagree with that.” He chuckled. I grabbed his arm forcing him to stop. 

I had to tell him this. 

 “ Jungkook, when immortality is on the plate, people don’t give much value to morals. They don’t always care about doing the right thing.... . Its how our kind functions. Consequences don’t mean much when you have a whole eternity to fix your mistakes.....So I always admire vampires who value morals. “ I smiled, “ To see a five year old with such a well formed moral compass... it tells me that you’re an amazing father. Possibly the best I’ve ever met. “ I reached out, to hold his hand, wanting to touch him in some way, to make him believe that I was completely honest. 

“Sera!!!!!!” My sister’s voice made me jump and Jungkook stepped away as well. 

“Dad told me you’re going on a date? I’ve picked out an outfit for you!! But you need to take a shower! You cannot show up smelling like diapers and spit-up.” She called. 

I groaned. 

“Time for the ugly duckling to transform into a swan, I see?” He said gently. 

“Your son’s favorite fairytale.” I whispered.

“He makes me read it every night.” 

“I would like to sit in on that someday.” I laughed.

His eyes met mine. 

“You’re always welcome, Ms Hwang,” He smiled politely. “ Someday soon maybe your kids and my son would be friends.” 

And just like that the wall grew between us. 

His kids and my kids. 

Not our kids because he wasn’t for me. 

He would never be for me. 

I felt the sudden inexplicable urge to cry. 

Turning away, I began following my sister as she waved to me. . 

“I’ll be at your door at seven.” He called out behind me. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[fanfic-cave]

Injured Pt. 2

Rating: SFW/PG-13

Word Count: 1.9k

Pairing: not so subtle hint to Hunter x Fem Jedi!OC

Warnings: Blood/bleeding, burn, and just general injured person, swearing, and FLUFF TIME (also sparks of feelings and the characters not recognizing them is like a drug to me so have fun)

Summary: You commissioned the bad batch to take you to Dantooine for your own personal mission in search of a Jedi temple, being an ex-jedi clone wars veteran. The rogue clones inevitably find a fight, which leads to Hunter getting injured. How will you all escape, and will you be able to rescue Hunter before its too late?

Authors note: Thanks for the notes on part 1! If part 1 was action, this is where the fluff ensues.

Link to part one here

You saw the blood on Hunter's hands, and images flashed through your brain. Dead clone troopers, your last fight on Umbara where your battalion was wiped out. I can’t let that happen again. You dove out of your cover and rushed to him. “Wrecker, help me get him!”

Echo shouted in through comms “Crosshair, focus your shots on whoever's firing that thing!”

You easily avoided the blaster fire, and with Wreckers help you pulled Hunter back to cover. You started assessing the blaster injury on him. It looked black and red, splotches of blood staining his uniform. “Hunter, can you hear me?”

Hunter gripped his side where the blaster shot him. “Yeah.” His voice sounded a bit weak. He wasn’t doing too great.

“I can help him, but we need to get to the ship now.” You spoke to the group.

“I’ve got it!” Tech spoke triumphantly, and made quick movements with the stolen comm unit he held. Suddenly all fire ceased from the Empires troopers. You peeked out and saw the troopers were clutching their heads, like they were in pain. It looked like Tech was sending them some strong feedback, a few had even passed out.

“Let’s move!” Echo called out. Wrecker helped Hunter stand, you went to the other side to support him, and you began your retreat. Crosshair remained for a minute to shoot down some troopers who were recovering, then he joined in the escape.

The ship wasn’t far, and you fortunately made it there in time before you and the group had to engage in another skirmish. Omega was standing by the ship, and saw you approach. She looked at Hunter and you think you saw tears well up in her eyes. “Hunter!” She ran toward him. “Is he okay? What's wrong?”

“Just a blaster shot, don’t worry about it.” Hunter spoke and gave her a reassuring nod. You knew he didn’t know for sure if he was okay or not. Everyone boarded the ship quickly.

“Get him to the medical station and do what you can Sera, Tech let’s get the ship out of here.” Echo spoke. He seemed to be comfortable acting as lead to the group with Hunter being more or less out of commission.

You and Wrecker moved to the medical bay with Hunter held up between the two of you, everyone else stayed behind. Crosshair had put a hand on Omegas shoulder to keep her from following you. Once at the small medical station on the ship, Wrecker helped set Hunter down.

“Is he gonna be okay?” Wrecker asked. He looked at you with worry written all over his face

You removed Hunter's helmet and the top of his armor, being gentle with your movements. “I think I can fix this, give me a minute.” His face looked a little pale, a sheen of sweat coating his skin.

The boys knew you had medical experience. There was a day where Omega had sprained her ankle while you were in the area. You were able to treat the small injury, and she healed relatively fast. Then she got a scratch, then Wrecker hit his head, and soon enough you began to get calls from them if a serious injury was involved. They knew to give you space and let you work.

You hesitated, and then removed your mask, setting it aside on the nearby table. Your hood fell to your shoulders. None of the bad batchers, save for Omega, had seen you without your mask, but you needed it off to work better. Plus with the battle you all went through together, you figured hiding your face wasn't a priority right now. Your blonde hair was in a tight braid. It was short and barely extended past the base of your skull. Hunter looked at you curiously, but his gaze kept shifting, like he was having a hard time staying conscious. “Keep your eyes open Hunter. I’m gonna clean this and we’ll get you patched up.”

You wiped some sweat off of him and he nodded at you, gritting his teeth. You cut away his shirt, and revealed the wound. You saw he was quite toned and muscular once the shirt was gone, and you felt your face grow warm.

Stop looking at his muscles Sera. You shook your head to snap out of it and got back to work. There were multiple shots on his right flank, nearly missing the center of his abdomen. His skin was burned where the shots had hit him. The burn wasn’t too deep, but there was some blood and irritation. Hunter must’ve been in a lot of pain. You glanced at his face. He was good at hiding it.

You administered a numbing agent, hoping to help with the pain. He seemed to relax a bit after this. Then, you looked around to check and be sure nobody else was in the room to watch. You closed your eyes, and put your hand over the wound. You opened yourself up to the force, and used it to sense Hunter's body. After a moment of concentration, it was easy to start the flow and you began to heal him. This was the real reason why you excelled in first aid: you could heal with the force, and it had made you a damn good general during the clone wars.

I still couldn’t save them. My troopers.

You cast the thought away quickly. You stopped your force healing, and got to work with bacta. You hadn’t used the force to seal up his wound, but you tried giving some life force to him as an attempt to ease away more of the pain and give him some strength. He seemed to gain a bit more color, and he looked stronger.

“You don’t look so bad.” Hunter said. He was looking at you, studying your face. You raised your eyebrows at him questioningly as you cleaned his wound out.

“Without the mask, I mean. You look nice.” You felt the heat return to your face again. You thought of his somewhat exposed body in front of you, then glanced at his face. “You’re not too bad yourself,” You said teasingly.

“I mean it.” He countered. “Why the mask?” You sighed at his question. That’s complicated.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” He averted his gaze. He seemed embarrassed, or maybe sorry that he had gotten that reaction from you. You watched him for a second, debating whether or not to share.

You looked back at your hands and kept working as you spoke. “You’re all hiding from the Empire, right? Let’s just say you’re not the only ones.” He contemplated what you said for a moment.

“Thank you Sera.” Hunter's eyes found yours, trying to hold your gaze. He seemed earnest in his appreciation.

“Just don’t get into the habit of getting shot, alright?” You smiled at him and he chuckled at your joke. You sealed a large bacta patch on the wound. “But I think you’ll live today.”

“I also meant for coming and helping us.” He made eye contact with you. You felt a flutter in your chest, an unexpected response from his intense gaze.

You broke away from his gaze and sat down. “It was nothing. Like I said, I thought you guys could use the help. And I know you’re all capable, but I wanted to do what I could.” You shrugged when you finished.

Hunter sat up and put a hand on your shoulder. “We could’ve been in worse shape without you today Sera. That wasn’t nothing.” His hand was warm. You became more aware of your breathing suddenly and took a deep breath. You looked back up to him, and he was still staring at you. He wasn’t the easiest person to read, but you could tell he really wanted you to know that he was grateful.

You put your hand on top of his. More warmth spread through your body. “It was really nothing Hunter.” You smiled shyly now. Well, this is kinda weird. You thought. Why am I feeling like this around Hunter? Is it because he’s not wearing a shirt? You continued contemplating why you felt your heart trying to beat out of your chest, and the fact that Hunter's touch made an electric current pulse through your body. Maybe because I don’t have the mask on. Being exposed and whatnot. You decided this was a good theory.

“Let me know if you start feeling some pain, I'll be able to help.” You squeezed his hand as you spoke. “Sure thing.” He replied. You felt his fingers twitch underneath yours. You felt the flutter in your chest again when his fingers moved under yours.

The door opened and Omega walked in. “Hunter, are you okay?” She walked up to him, looking at the patch on his side. You felt his hand slip out between your shoulder and hand, taking his warmth with him. “Yeah kid, I’ll be fine thanks to her.” He tilted his head towards you.

“Hunter, it’s really-“ you interjected again, preparing to downplay your role in helping Hunter. Omega had interrupted you though by giving you a hug. You looked down for a second, then quickly glanced at Hunter. You thought you saw him smile, but he was getting up now. You looked back to Omega and patted her back, returning the hug. “Thank you Sera!” She released you and looked up at you with admiration. You had a soft spot for her, and you couldn’t help but smile genuinely at her. “Sure, Omega. It was no problem.”

Hunter walked past you two, then stopped at the door, leaning at the frame. You watched him, an eyebrow raised questioningly. He turned to look at you. “You know, we could probably use your help more often if we go out on more missions like this. I’m sure everyone else would agree.”

“Are you asking me to tag along when there’s a next time?” you asked, crossing your arms and raising your eyebrows to emphasize the when, not if. You were smirking too, enjoying the fact that Hunter was asking for your help. It was a rare occurrence and you wanted to enjoy the moment by teasing him for it.

He sighed. “Yeah, I am.” He looked away from you and waited for your response. Your smirk turned into a smile. You stood up and walked to Hunter, slightly punching his arm. “Yeah I could come and save your ass more.” You laughed, and he rolled his eyes at your comment.

Omega looked between the two of you, happy at the relationship that seemed to be developing. “You saved their ass?” She spoke, and your eyes widened. Hunter said “Hold on Omega, Sera didn’t mean to say that, Right?” He looked at you with furrowed brows, and the tone of his voice dropped when he addressed you. “Yep! That word doesn’t exist Omega, don't say it!” The words came out quickly and you walked past Hunter with a quick movement.

“Sera!” He followed you and exited out of the med station, you sensed a quippy back and forth conversation was about to happen. You smiled as he moved to follow you. I think I just made a friend. You thought. And if your suspicions were correct, you think you would get another 5 friends down the road.

[cryingcow]

Character Story - Mine (Holiday) [RGGO]

Due to certain personal circumstances, I’ve moved up Mine’s story on the list. Thank you @chaoticcandies​ and @firstorderglory​ for the request!

Story: Right before Mine goes on his Okinawa field trip, Daigo informs him that another one of Kiryu’s bodyguards has been killed. Daigo asks him to investigate while in Okinawa to see whether someone does or does not have a plan to assassinate Kiryu. Mine solves the problem by funding and formulating Kiryu’s assassination plan himself.

Daigo: “Now Mine, I want you to make sure Kiryu-san is safe, okay?”

Mine, buying several rifles: “Yes, Daigo-san.”

Daigo: “That means I want him alive and not dead, you hear me?”

Mine, writing Kiryu’s name on his portable guillotine: “Loud and clear, Daigo-san. :)”

Notes:

1) Match pump - “lighting a match and stopping the fire with a water pump”. In other words, solving a problem that you yourself made in the first place. The phrase also came up back in Sera’s story, I think.

2) Like a beehive - “turmoil”

.

CHAPTER 1

.

|The Nishikiyama Family field trip by Kanda completed their itinerary without delay, and they returned back home. However, Mine remained in Okinawa on his own . . .|

Boy: “Ojiisan! It’s the long-awaited summer vacation, play together with us more!”

Kiryu: “Yeah, let’s invite everyone to play baseball later.”

Boy: “Hooray! Absolutely, Ojiisan!!”

Girl: “Ojiisan! I can’t find my colored pencils . . .”

Kiryu: “Recall when you last used them . . . maybe you’ll find them soon?”

Girl: “Hmm . . . where could they have gone?”

Mine: “. . . Is this the orphanage ‘Morning Glory’?”

Mine: (. . . Indeed, for me to be ‘the’ Fourth Chairman’s bodyguard . . .)

----

|A few days before the Nishikiyama Family field trip.|

{Mine knocks on Daigo’s door and enters.}

Mine: “Excuse me.”

Daigo: “Mine, I’m happy to see you. I heard from Kanda, are you going to Okinawa?”

Mine: “Yes . . . I’ll be in trouble with Kanda-no-aniki otherwise. He doesn’t care that it’s inconvenient for me.”

Daigo: “Heh . . . However, this time it’s convenient.”

Mine: “. . . What do you mean?”

Daigo: “There’s a problem in Okinawa. It cannot be made public.”

Mine: “. . . Is it related to Kiryu-san?”

Daigo: “. . . As expected, you make good guesses. That’s correct.”

{Daigo is silent for a few seconds.}

Daigo: “The Fourth Chairman is secretly being guarded in Okinawa.  . . . But the other day, one of the escorts was killed.”

Mine: “So you’re asking me to investigate.”

Daigo: “Yeah . . . many people in the Tojo Clan don’t like Kiryu-san. If someone dies because of that, it will cause unnecessary waves in the organization . . . Investigate this matter. And ensure the safety of the orphanage . . . Mine, can I ask this of you?”

----

Mine: (. . . Nothing else to do about it. It’s a direct order from Daigo-san. I should set aside my personal feelings and fulfill my mission. Now, I was able to confirm Kiryu-san’s appearance. Should I join the escort staff . . . ?)

----

Mine: “Are you Chinen?”

Chinen: “Mine-san? I’ve been waiting for you. Let’s move over here . . .”

Chinen: “I and Osugi, the escort who was killed, were keeping an eye on ‘Morning Glory’. That night . . . Osugi and I were doing different things. The attack happened then . . . The next morning, Osugi was found floating along Kubochi River . . . he was shot in the head at close range.”

Mine: “What is the criminal’s aim?”

Chinen: “That’s still unknown . . . However, investigations are underway on those who are connected to Morning Glory. Apparently a man named Teruya who is helping Morning Glory is being looked into.”

Mine: “To survey the supporters of Morning Glory instead of the orphanage directly . . . how strangely roundabout.”

Chinen: “Yes. So I thought I’d get the information and went straight to that Teruya . . . but he was being strangely vigilant, I didn’t get anything out of him at all.”

Mine: (It’s obviously not the work of a civilian. It’s not unreasonable to be wary, but . . .)

Mine: “There must be a reason for this Teruya to be vigilant. It might be best for me to listen to his story. Show me to Teruya.”

----

Teruya: “I’m very sorry for the other day. For that person to be Mine-san’s subordinate . . .”

Mine: “No, there appears to be a misunderstanding . . .”

Teruya: “I see . . . so why is someone like Mine-san here?”

Mine: “I heard you are in a critical situation as someone minding the orphanage ‘Morning Glory’. Maybe I can help . . . If you don’t mind, could you tell us the story?”

Teruya: “. . . Actually, the company’s server was hacked and the stolen information is being used as blackmail. The other day, yakuza-like men rushed into the office and said to give them 200 million if I didn’t want anything to happen to my customers . . .”

Mine: “Did you pay?”

Teruya: “No, I couldn’t come up with the money right away, so they’ll wait a week for me to ready it by then . . .”

Mine: “I see . . . the next time the men arrive, prepare the money. And for the hacking, I’ll provide you with the security we use.”

Teruya: “Th-Thank you very much . . . but, to give them the 200 million . . .”

Mine: “I’ll get it back later. We’ll let them grab the money and swim home so we can gather information.”

Teruya: “Will the plan really work that well?”

Mine: “Please be assured. Leave everything to me.”

----

{Mine and Chinen are hiding behind a corner as they follow the yakuza-like men with the money.}

Chinen: “They don’t seem to notice our trail . . .”

Mine: (Get back the money, extract information from them, hit their organization, rebuild Teruya’s business . . . then the orphanage is protected and business is completed. But-- Is that really okay? The escort was killed because he tried to protect Morning Glory . . . in other words, people were sacrificed because of civilians like Kiryu. Daigo-san was worried, but that a situation like this could greatly shake up the Sixth Chairman’s structure . . . Then what I really need to do now--)

{A noise comes from their hiding place.}

Yakuza-like Man A: “. . . Oi, who’s there!! Come out!!”

Chinen: “! Mine-san, I’m sorry . . .”

Mine: “. . . No, it’s just as well. There are no witnesses and I can hit them here.”

Yakuza-like Man A: “I’ll tell you what to hit! Did you come here to get the money back?!”

Yakuza-like Man B: “We’ll make you spit it out!!”

{Mine beats them up.}

Yakuza-like Man A: “Huwee . . .”

Yakuza-like Man B: “That guy has the money, let’s run!!”

{The other two run away.}

Mine: “Chinen, chase them!”

Chinen: “Yes!”

{Chinen runs after the two.}

Mine: “Oi, you . . .”

Yakuza-like Man A: “H-Hiii?! Do-Don’t kill me!!”

Mine: “I won’t kill you. I just have a request for you . . .”

Yakuza-like Man A: “Re-Request . . . ?”

Mine: “Get in touch with your boss right now.”

Yakuza-like Man A: “Wha . . . What do you want with my boss?”

Mine: “Hmph . . . would you rather die here?”

Yakuza-like Man A: “I-I understand!! I’ll do as you say!!”

{The yakuza-like man makes a call.}

Yakuza-like Man A: “I-I’m sorry, Boss. I’ll hand over the phone now . . .”

Mine: “. . . Are you the boss of this guy?”

Man: “Wh-Who are you?”

Mine: “Heh. Don’t worry about that.  . . . I’m your collaborator.”

.

-END-

.

CHAPTER 2

.

Man: “. . . A collaborator? Who are you.”

Mine: “You don’t need to know that.”

Man: “. . . Do you think we’d trust someone no one knows?”

Mine: “. . . How about credit? Heh. I’ll give you 500 million. How’s that?”

Man: “5-500 million . . . ?! You’re bluffing . . .”

Mine: “You can decide later whether it’s a bluff or not.”

Man: “. . . Why would you go so far . . .”

Mine: “What you’re attempting to do is convenient for me . . . that’s all there is.”

Man: “. . .”

Man: “Bring the money and let my subordinate guide you. Once I receive it, then I’ll trust you.”

Mine: “Understood.”

Mine: “Oi.”

Yakuza-like Man A: “Hiii . . . ! Y-Yes . . .”

Mine: “The boss wants to see me. Take me to him.”

----

Mine: “The promised 500 million. Also the 200 million taken from Teruya.”

Boss: “. . . Certainly. You did bring it. I trust you. I’m Inami, leader of the Inami Family. You want to cooperate with our plan, but how much do you know?”

Mine: “Your purpose is to encroach into Okinawa’s resort development plans, which have been stopped for several months. The orphanage supported by Teruya is on the planned development site. Teruya is being threatened to acquire the land. Is it because Kiryu Kazuma is on that land that you chose such a roundabout method?”

Inami: “. . . That’s right. Previously, the Tojo Clan’s Tamashiro Family was aiming for that land . . . They were almost destroyed by Kiryu. It’s a well-known story around these parts. We don’t attack the orphanage directly because we fear Kiryu’s retaliation. We don’t have enough weapons and soldiers to deal with Kiryu.”

Mine: “What if I said I would pay for that?”

Inami: “! No way . . . you want Kiryu to be . . . ?”

Mine: “No need to snoop around any deeper. However, hasn’t my financial strength given me ‘credit’?”

Inami: “. . . All right.”

Mine: “Heh. It was nice to meet you, Inami-san.”

Mine: (These guys will get rid of Kiryu as part of their job. Kiryu’s existence is Daigo-san’s Achilles heel. I will cut off any future worries here.)

----

|That night. Mine met up with Chinen while hiding his relationship with Inami.|

Chinen: “I see . . . it was the work of the Inami Family? Was their aim to crush Morning Glory without provoking the Fourth Chairman . . . ?”

Mine: “Yeah. I was careless and let him escape, but I heard their goal.”

Chinen: “But what do we do? Even if we know who the enemy is, there’s only two of us. This is originally a top secret mission. We can’t expect support from the Head Family.”

Mine: “The enemy will try to do more damage to Teruya. Leave that to me. You should go back to being Kiryu-san’s bodyguard.”

Chinen: “U-Understood!”

----

|A few days later.|

Teruya: “--Then, I will try to do as Mine-san says.”

Mine: “This is expected to increase sales by 20%. Management should be fairly stable.”

{Someone knocks on the door and enters.}

Yakuza A: “Sorry for intruding when you’re busy, Teruya-san.”

Teruya: “Who are you guys . . . ?!”

Yakuza A: “Teruya-san’s place seems to still be fine, so we thought we’d like to get a little more money . . .”

Teruya: “I-I have no money to pay you!!”

Mine: “. . . What do you mean by coming to the office without an appointment? Truly there is no common sense among yakuza.”

Yakuza B: “Oh yeah? And who are you . . . ?”

Mine: “Would you like to be sent back quickly?”

Yakuza A: “Don’t be a fool!! We’ll beat you both up!!”

{Mine beats them up and sends them running.}

Mine: “That doesn’t mean they won’t come here again. Let’s keep meeting up here regularly for a while.”

Teruya: “I sincerely thank you very much.”

Mine: “Hmph. No, this is all for Morning Glory.”

----

Inami: “As mentioned, those at the bottom that I sent don’t know about you.”

Mine: “Yeah, thanks to that, Teruya trusts me completely.”

Inami: “. . . Phew, I’m glad you’re on our side.”

Mine: “Until Kiryu has been done away with . . . perform the next step in the plan well.”

Inami: “Should we take over the system by exploiting the security vulnerabilities introduced into Teruya’s company?”

Mine: “Yeah. I’ll then act like I noticed the exploitation and stop it.”

Inami: “So it’s a match pump?  . . . You’re a con artist.”

----

|A few more days later.|

Inami: “Hehe. Thanks to you, Teruya’s company is running smoothly. But is it necessary to help Teruya just to get rid of Kiryu?”

Mine: “There is this situation here . . . That being said, the weapons have been procured . . . how are things on your end?”

Inami: “We’ve pulled out enough men from the surrounding organizations to strengthen our force . . . are you ready to go anytime?”

Mine: “Is that so . . . then let us move the plan to the final stage. Kidnap Teruya tonight and have him call Kiryu as a hostage.”

Inami: “! Having a hostage to block his movements would have Kiryu like a beehive, right?”

Mine: “That’s right. Don’t mess it up.”

Inami: “We’ve set up the table this far. Failure isn’t an option.”

Mine: “I’m counting on it.”

----

Yakuza A: “Thank you for your hard work.”

Mine: “The confrontation happens tomorrow. Don’t mess it up.”

Yakuza A: “Yes sir!!”

{The yakuza runs off.}

?: “Huh? Mine-san?”

Mine: “!”

Chinen: “Mine-san, why did you come out of the Inami Family office . . . ?!”

Mine: “Chinen . . . ! You . . . should be monitoring the orphanage . . .”

Mine: (Damn . . . I was caught off guard . . . ! I should have foreseen that something would go wrong . . . !)

.

-END-

.

CHAPTER 3

.

Chinen: “Mine-san . . . you’re getting along very well with the Inami Family . . . what is the meaning of this . . . ?”

Mine: (Shit . . . I wasn’t careful of my actions . . .)

Mine: “. . . Chinen. It was wrong to keep quiet. But please calm down and listen.”

Chinen: “. . .”

Mine: “As you can see, I have a cooperative relationship with the Inami Family. But that’s to extract their information.”

Chinen: “Then it wouldn’t be necessary to hide it from me. I’ve never been in contact with the Inami Family.”

Mine: “That is . . .”

Chinen: “Don’t try to deceive me! Mine-san, are you connected with the Inami Family?!”

Mine: (Tch . . . Is it impossible to salvage the situation anymore . . . ? Then I’ll have to get rid of him here--)

Chinen: “. . . Just kidding. Ahaha.”

Mine: “? . . .”

Chinen: “Ahaha. Don’t worry. Actually, I’m also a traitor.”

Mine: “. . . What did you say?”

Chinen: “I’m also colluding with the Inami Family, trying to crush Morning Glory. Are you surprised? So was I when I heard Mine-san had joined hands with Inami. But I agree with assassinating Kiryu to wake up Daigo-san. I’ll cooperate too!!”

Mine: (. . . Have I been turned around? Was it all by Chinen’s hand from the start?)

Chinen: “I’ve heard the plan from Inami. Let me in on it too! Mine-san!”

----

Mine: (If everything goes as planned, Inami, who has kidnapped Teruya, should have gotten in touch to call Kiryu . . .)

Haruka: “Ojiisan! Are you really going out alone . . . ?!”

Kiryu: “Yeah . . . Teruya’s life is in danger if I don’t obey.”

Haruka: “Could it be the Tamashiro Family who has Teruya-no-ojiisan, just like before?”

Kiryu: “No, that is absolutely impossible. At the time, Daigo promised, ‘I will not touch Okinawa’. He’s not one to break his promises.”

Haruka: “. . . not Daigo-san . . . ? Then, who on earth . . . ?”

Kiryu: “It doesn’t matter who they are. Teruya is a friend who supports Morning Glory. You can’t abandon your friends. Isn’t that right?”

Mine: “! . . .”

Haruka: “Ojiisan . . . you’re come back, right?”

Kiryu: “Yeah, I’m definitely coming back. Haruka, look after the kids while I’m gone.”

Haruka: “Yup . . . ! Please take care, Ojiisan.”

Mine: (Kiryu’s words . . . he’s not riding on his strength. He should know what would happen when he boldly goes out alone. Nevertheless . . . Friends . . . ? Even if he’s just a total stranger who’s in it for the money . . . !)

Mine: (. . . Kuh. That is Kiryu Kazuma . . . the man Daigo-san is aiming for . . .)

----

Inami: “To really show up alone . . . the legendary yakuza seems to know no fear . . .”

Teruya: “Ki-Kiryu-san . . . I’m sorry . . .”

Kiryu: “Teruya . . . ! Are you hurt . . . ?!”

Inami: “Oops, don’t move, Kiryu . . . if you move, this gun will blow his head away, okay?”

Kiryu: “Taking a civilian as a hostage . . . you’re a lowlife.”

Inami: “Anyway . . . is it wrong for a yakuza to get what they want by any means necessary?”

{A big group arrives.}

Kiryu: “! . . .”

Inami: “You notice? Countless muzzles are aimed towards you . . . you’re already a trapped mouse!”

Mine: (It seems that things are going according to plan . . .)

Kiryu: “At the time, Daigo promised, ‘I will not touch Okinawa’. He’s not one to break his promises.”

Kiryu: “It doesn’t matter who they are. Teruya is a friend who supports Morning Glory. You can’t abandon your friends. Isn’t that right?”

Mine: “. . .”

Mine: “. . . Hmph. I’m hesitating.”

----

Chinen: “Mine-san! This is the end. We have Kiryu covered from the rear--”

Mine: “--No, I can’t let this go through.”

Chinen: “Mine-san, what are you saying . . . ?”

Mine: “I’m cautious. Until I am certain of something, I try not to come to conclusions. In other words . . . Kiryu’s murder is on hold.”

Chinen: “! Do you mean to betray us . . . ?! Why now . . . !”

Mine: “Hmph. You don’t need to know.”

Chinen: “Don’t play around . . . !! It’s only a little longer until Kiryu can be killed!!! If you get in the way, we’ll kill you too!!!!”

{Mine defeats all of them, and they all collapse.}

Mine: “Now, the reinforcements are taken out . . .”

Mine: (The rest depends on your efforts. Please do your best to hold on . . . Fourth Chairman.)

----

Inami: “Kuh . . . Reinforcements haven’t come yet?!”

Kiryu: “What’s wrong. You seem to be getting very impatient?”

Inami: “Sh-Shut up!! Do-Don’t move!! You want something to happen to him?!”

----

Mine: “The distance is roughly 200 meters . . . Well, that’s no problem . . . I didn’t think the rifle I bought would be used for this . . .”

{A shot rings through the air.}

----

Inami: “Guaaa?! M-My hand?!”

Teruya: “Hi-Hiiii?!”

{Teruya breaks away from his hold and runs.}

Inami: “W-Wait! Did he escape--?!”

Kiryu: “I don’t know who . . . but someone helped.”

Inami: “O-Oh no--”

{Kiryu beats everyone up.}

----

Mine: “Is that the ‘Dragon of Dojima’ . . . ?”

Mine: “Heh, you’re too obstinate.”

Chinen: “Because of you, my plan is ruined . . . My sister and her husband committed suicide from a large debt because Daigo stopped the Okinawa resort plan . . . ‘Protecting Kiryu’s whereabouts’ is a dumb reason! Killing Kiryu so that Daigo will taste the sadness of losing a loved one-- guhaa . . . !”

{Chinen gets punched by Mine and collapses once again.}

Mine: “I’m not interested in your story.”

----

|Thus . . .|

Woman in swimsuit: “Um . . . are you alone?”

Mine: “Am I? As you can see, I’m alone.”

Woman in swimsuit: “Yes . . . sorry for suddenly calling out to you. So . . . are you sightseeing in Okinawa?”

Mine: “No. Had to do a bit of business from Tokyo.”

Woman in swimsuit: “You’re from Tokyo?! I hear the city is nice! So . . . have you finished your business yet?”

Mine: “Yeah. I just had to handle some trivial trouble. It was a minor job.”

Mine: (Teruya’s company is safe after what happened. Both Inami and the Inami Family have been taken care of . . . I’ve reported to Daigo-san that everything was the undertaking of Chinen.)

Woman in swimsuit: “U-Um . . . In that case, why don’t we have a meal together at a nearby shop?”

Mine: “. . . Heh. Yeah, if it’s okay with you.”

Woman in swimsuit: “R-Really?! I’m glad . . . !”

Mine: (Kiryu Kazuma . . . I understand why Daigo-san looks up to you. I withdrew this time . . . heh. Do you have any idea what’s coming next? . . . Fourth Chairman.)

.

-END-

Masterlist

[sleepy-sunlight]

Hey have you been busy or have you not been getting many requests? I miss your writing! If you have the time could you write something where the inquisitor has a child (around 5 years old) and the child stays with Cullen and the others at Skyhold whenever the Inquisitor is away? Thanks, I hope you've been doing well 💞💞

I’m a mix of busy and living for the next time I sleep so it’s been a bit messy life-wise but I’m trying to start things back up! Ideally, I’m trying to set up a Monday-Wednesday-Friday schedule where I post a prompt on one of my three blogs each day because I should be totally free during those days!  

Anyways, thank you for your patience, and have a fantastic day!

———————————————————————————————————–

Cullen grew up the second oldest of four. Most of his early childhood was spent parceling out responsibilities for watching over Branson and Rosalie with Mia.  

Branson was the epitome of what his mother had liked to call a ‘wild child’. He’d climb up to the tallest trees in Honnleath and when he found himself too high to properly come back down his solution was to swing from the branches until they broke. One could only guess how well that turned out.  

Rosalie on the other hand was a fan of collecting every insect or small animal that crossed her way. Cullen could still remember the yelps his mother would try to hide at the sight of Rosalie holding a long, winding centipede in her palms. The worst was a feral fox cub that’d subsequently became loose in the house. That’d been an eventful evening.  

Neither sibling was ‘ideal’, but he supposed even he had his own faults.  

Nevertheless, it made Cullen oddly ideal with children. For all his military abilities and fighting talent, most were astonished at how in the snap of one’s fingers, Cullen could stop even the worst wailing from a child. Josephine once said she’d “pay him double his Inquisition salary to babysit her siblings.”  

Cullen had responded with “what salary?”  

Considering money was Josephine’s department, the subject was swiftly dropped.  

However, that didn’t take away from the actual babysitting Cullen found himself in.  

Very few, after all, expected the Inquisitor to have a child.  

Your child’s name was Olivia – just five years old and more of a firecracker than you were. Her hair was often in braids, so for all her running and scrambling about, she wouldn’t get caught on anything. For her birthday Varric had given her a little yellow ribbon, and she’d wear it to sleep if you didn’t insist otherwise.

She was a troublesome little thing, but she was one of the few bright things in your world, and you clearly treasured her. She’d race to you as fast as her legs could carry her when you’d return to Skyhold and every time you’d scoop her up in your arms and swing her until you both were left dizzy and stumbling throughout the courtyard. No matter where you went you always came back with something for her, and whether a fanciful toy or simply a flower, Olivia adored it.

She even had a secret hiding place for all the presents you brought her. She’d shown Cullen one evening and despite knowing just about every detail of the gifts, he’d still ask like it was the first time he’d ever laid eyes on them.  

Curiously enough, Olivia had a fondness for the Commander. Often times when you and Cullen would take walks along the barracks Olivia would follow behind, holding loosely onto the end of his shroud. She liked it especially when each of you would hold one of her hands and swing her back and forth. It was… domestic in a sense. Far more than Cullen ever expected for himself.  

He’d hardly even expected to meet someone like you – so full of life and passion for all that you did. You were a breath of fresh air in the coldness he’d so well known. Cullen hoped Olivia hadn’t noticed how he stared but she was nosy – she took that from you.  

She’d been given plenty of opportunities to be nosy since you’d left, asking Cullen specifically to watch over her.  

“I won’t be long,” You’d told him the evening before you left. “But there are reports of red templars making advancements towards a village and I-”  

“I know,” Cullen hesitated but set a hand on your shoulder. He didn’t know if his smiles helped you at all, but he offered one anyway. “You don’t need to explain. I’ll help however I can, including taking care of Olivia.”  

You let out a sigh of relief and laughed. “Thank you I-” You couldn’t figure the words and so instead hugged him, winding your arms around his neck. “You’re the best.”  

He was left stunned for a moment. It wasn’t like he’d experienced much affection in his life once he’d left for the Templar order – so much as a hug was almost foreign to him.  However hesitantly, he managed to return the gesture. His hovering hands shifting to hold you tight.

He forgot how much he missed such a simple thing as a hug.  

You left shortly thereafter both of you a little sheepish but warmhearted, nonetheless. Olivia followed you to Skyhold’s gates, holding your hand but still stumbling to keep up despite her best efforts. When you knelt to meet her, she nearly ran right into you, only caught by your grip shifting to her shoulders.  

“Woah there, soldier!” You laughed softly. “You know you can’t come with me.”  

Olivia immediately began to pout. “But I’ll be good! I promise!”  

“It’s not a matter of being good, it’s dangerous.” You smiled warmly, squeezing her shoulders. “Even for the toughest kid around! You got to stay here, keep everyone safe.”  

Before Olivia could object you spoke once more, lowering your voice to a whisper. “In fact, I’ve got a super-secret mission for you. I need you to personally look after Commander Cullen – keep him out of trouble.”  

Olivia shot a quick glance to Cullen who stood a little way off, pretending to look at a set of reports.  

“Okay! I know you like him!”  

Cullen had to work very hard not to look up and see your expression in that moment. But he supposed he wouldn’t want you to see how red he’d become either. At the very least, he heard a gasp.

“I-It’s ah – it’s our little secret though! Don’t forget, okay?”  

Olivia nodded. “I won’t!”  

“Promise?”  

Olivia huffed. “I promise!”  

You chuckled. “Alright, alright. I love you, Olivia.”  

Cullen looked up to see Olivia jump up to hug you, burying her head in the crook of your neck and failing to hide the tiniest sniffle. She always hated seeing you go.  

“I love you too.”  

With a wave of your hand, you and the rest of your team left. Olivia refused to budge an inch before you disappeared beyond sight. Even then she only moved a few steps forward, perhaps in hopes to catch one last glimpse of you.  

“Miss them already, do you?” Cullen approached the child steadily, making his heavy boots clearly known to not startle her. He even spoke quietly.  

Olivia gave a meek nod, wiping at her eyes quickly.

Cullen pretended not to see – if she was anything like you it’d only make her more embarrassed.  

“I miss them too.” Cullen said. “But while they’re gone… would you want to sneak a few extra treats from the kitchen? I won’t tell if you don’t.”  

Olivia perked up just a tad. Cullen offered his hand that practically swallowed Olivia’s when she accepted it. But she smiled.  

“Okay.”  

She hid an entire extra loaf of cinnamon bread in Cullen’s shroud. It was awful, thinking of the sugar and sticky cinnamon that was sure to attract insects of all sort, but worth it. She giggled the whole time, and still considered it an ‘extreme scheme’ even though no one cared and at least three kitchen-maids watched them the entire time – pretending to hide little Olivia from everyone else.  

She didn’t even bother to have the bread cut into slices, sitting in his office breaking it apart in chunks and pieces.  

“I can cut it if you want, you know.” Cullen told her, his brows furrowed.  

“No, I like it this way. It’s a surprise every time!” Olivia raised her head to the Commander, swinging her legs in the seat across his desk. “Do you want some? I’ll share, but you can’t tell Varric! He’ll get jealous.”  

“Why would he-” Cullen immediately remembered Varric’s proud title as Olivia’s ‘partner in crime’ and found the answer for himself.  

Admittedly Cullen would’ve said no. He never had much of a sweet tooth. However, Olivia clearly wanted to give him a piece and already had two corners of the bread pinched between her fingers to give him. It was just something a person couldn’t say no to.  

“I’d love a piece.”  

It was just as sugary and sappy as he’d imagined.  

“Oi, metal britches!”  

The yelling came a few hours later, when evening started to paint the sky overhead and the sun dripped in through his windows. It didn’t take a genius to recognize Sera.  

She nearly kicked the door in, and as if that wasn’t enough, slammed her firsts against his desk with enough ferocity to shake the very earth. The mischievous glint in her eyes was anything but good.  

“As appealing as the name ‘metal britches’ is, could we try another name next time?” Cullen frowned. “Perhaps my real one?”  

“Nah, I like this one better. Listen, I’ve got this great idea for an ambush on this Orlesian snobs – and I know you hate Orlesians just as much so I was thinking I could get your head of your ar-”  

Cullen nearly jumped out of his seat trying to stop Sera. “Reserve the language for when children aren’t around?”  

“Wha-” Sera wrinkled her nose only to twist her head and see little Olivia, watching Sera with the utmost awe. Olivia happened to look up to Sera with her ‘fun-loving’ pranks. It brought comfort when you were gone. “Oh! Pipsqueak! I was wondering where you’d run off to!”  

She peered over to see the last bits of the cinnamon bread. “Mind if I swipe a piece?”  

“Mm!” Olivia eagerly gave Sera the rest. Of all the people Sera loved to torment, Olivia was never one of them. If anything, she had a soft spot for the child.  

“Oh no that ain’t necessary but you’re a sweet thing for offering.” Sera leaned in to Olivia, pretending to whisper, but only brought her voice louder for Cullen to clearly hear. “See, I was trying to get Mr. Boring over here to have some fun for once, but I don’t think he’s gonna budge.”  

“Cullen!” Olivia exclaimed, puffing out her cheeks.  

Sera stopped her further protests. “I know, what a bore! But I’m thinking if he won’t have some fun – why don’t we?”  

“Now Sera-” Cullen rose from his seat. “The Inquisitor asked me specifically to look after Olivia while they were gone-”  

“We’re not going to Halamshiraal get your knickers out of a twist!” Sera snorted. “I’ll bring her back in one piece, but a kid can’t sit around all day!”

“I…”  

Olivia was gripping excitedly at the edge of her seat, and if her toes could reach the floor they would’ve been tapping too. Anyone could see she desperately wanted to spend time with the ‘fun rogue’. Cullen could be fun too – it just didn’t include putting buckets of water over their ambassador’s door. Less dangerous fun.  

“Nothing reckless,” Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose. “If I see so much as a scratch on Olivia, I’ll have your quarters repurposed to a storage closet.”  

“If I get a hair on the squirt’s head out of place, I’ll banish myself, does that make you feel better? I won’t get in the way of your crush on the boss.”  

“I do not-”

Sera and Olivia were already gone before he could even finish, giggling as the elf lifted the girl onto her shoulders and scrambled out. It was almost fascinating how quickly he could come to regret a decision.  

They were gone for a few hours, when night arrived and a chill soaked into the floor Cullen began to pace, anxious and ready to go searching top to bottom for Olivia.  

He only made it to the grand hall when he found the two of them. Sera, snoring with her head fallen back in her ornate seat with Olivia, sleeping sound in Sera’s lap. A blanket was slipped over the two of them, and just a few feet away in another chair was Varric, watching the fireplace crackle.  

“Don’t you worry Curly, I kept them distracted.” Varric laughed and took a sip of his wine. “You’d be surprised how much Buttercup loves a good story.”  

Cullen let out a sigh of relief as he made his way to Olivia. She was clutching onto to Sera and her head was laid lazily on her stomach, a slow rise and fall lifting her up and down. She looked so comfortable; it was almost hard to wake her up.  

“Was she a handful?” Cullen asked.  

“Olivia or Buttercup?”  

“Either one.” Cullen scoffed.  

“Buttercup is a given, but Olivia is always a pleasure. It’s nice to have someone actually enjoy my rough drafts – they’re just what put Sera to sleep.” Varric laughed to himself. “Everyone’s a critic.”  

“I’m surprised the Inquisitor didn’t take you with them,” Cullen remarked. “Dorian, Blackwall, and you are typically their regular party.”  

Varric simpered. “As old as Blackwall looks, I’m older – and you’ve got to give the elderly a break.”

“You can’t be beyond your late thirties.”  

Varric raised a glass amusedly. “Or maybe I just age that good. Either way, mentally, I’m in my sixties. I like to have the occasional night in!”  

“Does that mean Olivia could call you ‘grandfather’?”  

“Don’t you dare put that idea in her head Curly.”

Cullen turned his attention back to Olivia with a laugh. He gently scooped her up in his arms, and Sera only mildly objected in the form of halfhearted tugs at his gauntlets. The second Olivia felt the fur of his cloak she sank against it; even attempting to wrap herself up like a blanket.  

“Thank you for watching over her, Varric – even if only for a short time.”  

The dwarf shook his head. “No trouble. You just make sure that one gets some shut-eye.”  

Cullen took Olivia to your quarters – It had a grand enough bed that you shared with your parent when they were here anyhow. The few times Cullen had entered early, Olivia would be snuggled up among the silk sheets like a burrowed rabbit. She’d never get out if you didn’t make her.  

He pulled back the blankets and set her down gently. The second she recognized just where she was, Olivia grappled at the sheets and pull them up to her chin – even her cheeks were smothered against her pillow.  

Cullen would’ve left to return to his own room when Olivia reached out for his hand and ruined that plan.

“Can you stay, Mr. Rutherford?”  

She only used that name when she wanted something out of him. It worked every time.  

Cullen paused briefly, relenting as he sat down at the foot of the bed. “Of course, Olivia.”  

“Can I ask you something?” She mumbled, eyes only a tiny bit open and words slurring.  

He smiled softly. “Of course.”  

“Do you… do you like them?” She clearly peeked one eye open at this point. Olivia was far from subtle.  

“Like who?”  

“You know… my… parent…” Olivia sat up, rubbing at her face groggily but far too curious to sleep just yet.

Cullen’s heart jumped into his throat. He swallowed hard, and even then, his chest heaved like a drum. “Why ah – why would you ask that?”  

“I see how you stare – and how they stare. And I…” Olivia brought her knees up to her chin. “I want you to be a part of our family.”  

The rapid beating of Cullen’s heart stopped, his fidgeting fingers stopped, and his panicking brain stopped. All that remained was a warmth, gentle, and protective like a lantern in a dark night. It never felt so easy to say exactly what he meant.  

“I think I’d like that too. But I’ll have to be a bit braver before I can tell them.”  

Olivia saw his faint, nervous smile and leaned over so that she drooped over his shoulder. She did her best to drape a bit of the blanket over him but even at her best, she only managed to cover his knee. A valiant effort.  

“I’ll cheer for you then,” Olivia yawned. “so, you can get brave. Would that help?”  

Olivia truly was just like you. Maybe that was why he found himself adoring her just so much. You were always so encouraging and supportive – even at your worst, you found a way to brighten someone else’s day. You passed the kindness in your heart down to Olivia, and it showed.  

Perhaps when you returned Cullen would finally tell you all the things that’d be brimming inside of him. How he cared for you like he’d never known before and wanted nothing more than to simply do the same for you. For the first time, he felt like he could.

“I think it already is.”  

Cullen would’ve thought Olivia already fallen fast asleep were it not for the little grin spread across her face.

[merrybandofmurderers]

snippet saturday

this is too long to be a snippet but i don't care, you're gonna cry with me whether you like it or not

Josephine had sent out the announcement that Alexius’s judgment would be happening later that day, and thus Dorian made it his business to be elsewhere. The Rest, specifically.

He sequestered himself in a corner on the second floor with Cabot’s strongest ale. He saw Sera leave her room; she eyed him as she crossed to the stairs but did not call out to him. He sighed morosely into his drink.

“When you think father, his face comes first. You don’t know which face hurts worse.”

Dorian jumped, nearly upsetting his mug. He looked up to find the… spirit?—boy?—standing across the table from him. “Hello, Cole,” he said carefully.

“I meant to go to the hall, but I ended up here.”

“Well, it’s the thought that counts.” Dorian took a sip of his ale. The wide brim of the spirit’s hat shadowed his expression, but his fingers twisted together as if uncertain. “You can sit down, Cole.”

Slowly, as if unused to interacting with solid objects, Cole pulled out the chair and sat.

Dorian had not spent much time with Lavellan’s newest companion, though he had overhead his many discussions with Solas regarding the boy. He had received a taste of Cole’s unique abilities during the official introduction. Vivienne was not pleased, of course, but Cole had helped them at Haven, and Dorian was inclined to give him a chance.

“Longing soured with disappointment. The lucky one was supposed to be lucky. You can’t disown your loyalty, so you withhold forgiveness to punish your father who is not your father for your brother who is not your brother.”

Dorian sucked in a breath. “Cole, I appreciate what you’re doing, but I’d rather not discuss it right now.”

“But it’s happening right now.”

“Yes, that’s why I’d like to not think about it.” He raised his mug to emphasize his point.

Cole’s head tilted. “You know ignoring it won’t stop it. You’ve tried before.”

“Yes,” Dorian bit out, “but it’s nice to live in denial for a bit.”

“Why?” Faint shadows smudged the skin under his eyes—Dorian wondered if it was a genuine lack of sleep or inherent to his form.

Dorian sighed, fiddling with the straps on his clothing. “It’s complicated. Alexius was important to me, and it isn’t… pleasant to see him as he is now.”

“He tore down the pedestal, and you couldn’t pull him back up. You tried, but the threads were torn. He cut them, and you were cut loose—at loose ends, lost and lonely, with two failed fathers.”

Dorian swallowed against the knot in his throat. “Yes.”

“It wasn’t your fault. He didn’t want to be saved, he wanted to do the saving.”

Dorian ran a hand over his face. “Knowing that doesn’t really help me feel better, Cole.”

“Yes.” Cole frowned. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your problem, Cole.”

“It’s knotted, old memories blurring with new. Two men as one, and you don’t know what he deserves. The blade comes down, and you want to catch it. You want to forget him, and you want him to look at you. The decision matters so much, but you don’t know what you want it to be.”

Dorian’s eyes fell shut, knuckles aching where his fingers strangled the mug’s handle. “Exactly.”

“You could tell the Inquisitor to wait.”

Dorian snorted and took a gulp of ale. “The decision isn’t mine, and it shouldn’t be. Lavellan will make the right one.”

“Right as righteous, not good. Justice as reprimand, not reparation. Justice doesn’t always make things right, Dorian.”

“However you want to define ‘right’, Lavellan is it. He’s just, he’s good—whatever meaning you want to give it. I trust him.”

“Trusting him doesn’t mean he’ll make you happy.”

Dorian blew out a harsh breath. “Nothing Lavellan could do in this situation would make me ‘happy’, Cole. It’s beyond that. It’s not something that can be fixed, I just have to deal with it, and at present, I would like to deal with it by not thinking about it.”

Cole’s thin lips pinched together unhappily. “I can’t do anything to help.”

“Sometimes, it’s like that, Cole.” Dorian downed the rest of his drink and rose to get more.

Cole stayed where he was, hands in his lap.

When Dorian returned, Cole was gone. Dorian’s breath felt heavy in his lungs, a headache building behind his eyes. He resumed drinking. Cole didn’t come back.

tagging @mrs-theirin, @pinkhairedlesbianadventures, @gaysolavellan, @midnightprelude, @thegingerjedi

[theheraldsrest]

“Inquisitor’s romanced companion (Cullen, Blackwall, or Iron Bull) finally seeing the Inquisitor come back from a long journey.” Well, someone likes big guys. Let’s give this a try. -Cabot

Blackwall

He had been carving the same spot on his piece for some time, but it didn’t seem to register. Once in a while, he glanced at the entrance of the stables, thinking he saw something but it was always just someone walking or birds flying. Each time, he’d shake his head, tell himself to calm down, and try to focus on what his hands were doing. It had been a week and a half since the Inquisitor left, accompanied by Varric, Bull, and Sera. Not the most reliable bunch but he knew they would never let the Inquisitor be harmed. He couldn’t help it. She had said they would be back soon, yet she wasn’t and had all together stopped sending messages to him. The last one he had received had contained only a few words: Thom, miss you dearly. Stormcoast is, as ever, cold and wet. On the plus side, plenty of spindleweed. As if we don’t have enough of it already. I love you. He couldn’t stop himself from re-reading this same letter, each time his focus catching on to her elegant writing over her words of endearment and his name. He was staring at it again, causing him to miss the wood he was working on had become weak, suddenly snapping. As he cursed himself, a chuckle reached his ears. “You know, if I hadn’t seen you carve the griffon saddle, I would’ve thought this was your first time working with carpentry tools.” His heart lifted as he turned to see that familiar smile and those shining eyes that he adored looking at him. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you didn’t know what soon meant.” She stepped closer to him, humming. “Two words. ‘Island’ and ‘dragon.’ I can’t control the bloody things appearing out of nowhere. Can you blame me?” It was his turn to chuckle as he pulled her into his arms. “No, I suppose not. Glad to have you back, love.” She pulled him into a kiss, Blackwall melting to her touch. The wait was definitely worth it.

Cullen

“Sir?” The commander snapped out of his thoughts, looking up from his desk to a scout standing by the door. “Yes, soldier?” He flinched at how dry his voice sounded and cleared it before saying “What is it?” “The latest reports from the spymaster, sir.” He stepped up and placed several papers onto Cullen’s desk. He picked each up, scanning them, looking for her name or even her title but nothing was found. He gave a frustrated sigh and looked them over to see if he missed something before noticing the scout was still there. “I don’t have anything new to report to her. You’re dismissed.” The scout gave a quick bow before going through the doors, leaving Cullen. Tenting his fingers together, he let his eyes unfocus as he thought. It had now been a couple of weeks since the Inquisitor left and not a single word had been sent back, not even from Leliana’s scouts. He knew he shouldn’t worry about her. She was strong, reliable, but he couldn’t help thinking the worst. Shaking his head so as to stop the idea of them being attacked by a dragon from creeping into his head, he stood up and left the room to walk along the ramparts. He stopped himself short before reaching the spot they usually spend time at and turned, instead, to look down on the grounds. He could see the troops training new recruits, the mages and healers working to restore those who were injured, something happened at the tavern as Sera jumped from the roof and ran, her cackling floating up to where he stood. Why the Inquisitor kept her around, he didn’t know. He couldn’t help his eyes falling to where he had usually spotted her when he walked about: under the trees where Cassandra sat, the spot next to the stairs where they had had there awkward chat, up to where he could see Vivienne leaning over the banister and back to the ground at the gates, where the horses were gathered, flicking their heads as their riders-wait what? He turned his gaze quickly back to the horses at the gate, their rider’s voices caring up to him. One of the riders jumped from their horse and was quickly moving to the stairs when she suddenly looked over. Even from this distance he could see that bright smile growing on her face as she waved and began making her way up the stairs. He made his way over as she finally turned on the final landing and spotted him, breaking into a run and throwing herself into his waiting arms, clinging tightly to him. He held her, the missing piece to his as he heard her muffled voice say “I missed you.” “And I, you.” 

Iron Bull

The sword he wielded clang against Krem’s as he threw him off. They had been at it for a while and Bull could see the sweat dripping down the younger man’s face but Krem focused, fixed his stance and charged again. In a few moments, Bull squatted next to Krem on the ground, panting and unwilling to move. “I think that has to be the most pitiful swing I’ve ever seen from you, Kremiscius.” Krem only smiled and shot back “Yeah, well, it’s going to be pitiful against a pitiful opponent.” He opened his eyes to look up at his chief’s frozen face. Bull could only grumble but held a hand out to pull Krem up. Once back on his feet, the smaller of the men looked up at him, a calculating look on his face. Bull turned away from him and waved over his shoulder. “That’s enough for today, Krem.” “Is this about the Inquisitor, chief?” Bull froze once more and turned to look at Krem, his brow creased in concern. To Krem’s relief, Bull smiled and said “Nah, the boss can handle themselves. It be foolish to worry about them. Besides, I’m giving you the chance to take a break. Better take it before I decide we need to go over your shield bashing again.” Krem quickly left, but the smile fell from his face as soon as Krem was out of sight. Krem knew him way too well. He rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. Sure, Frostback Basin was a good two week journey, and they had only been gone for seven weeks now, but it still made him worry. There hadn’t been any word back from them, all except their last letter, stating for Bull to be jealous because they went through a tournament-like trial. But that letter came around the time he assumed they reached the Basin. No other words or notes, not even a hint to what they were doing or what happened. Bull was trying to think of every scenario, knowing that kadan would be able to find a way out of each. Still, this wasn’t something he was used to, worrying about a lover. It was different now, he was committed to them, dedicated even. It hurt to wait, wait for any sign. He could see the same thing on other’s faces as they, too, waited. He decided to take out his frustration on the dummies nearby. It wasn’t until Bull had taken a few throws at the tied-up straw did he feel eyes watching him. He turned and felt all of his worries fall away. There, walking towards him, was his inquisitor, his kadan, with a smirk on their face. Bull turned fully towards them, crossing his arms across his chest and giving a dead serious look that made them pause. After a moment, they mimicked him and gave him a serious face as well. They stood in silence for a bit before Bull said “So.” His kadan raised their eyebrows in surprise. “So? That’s it? See me come back and say ‘so?’ “ “Yeah, pretty much.” Bull turned away, continuing his fighting with the dummy, fighting back the smile growing on his face as he listened. Nothing and then careful footsteps over and then a hand on his arm. “Did I miss something? Or did I do something before leaving that I’ve forgotten about?” Bull shrugged and continued. His kadan was quiet for a few moments before saying “Are you just screwing with me?” Again, he shrugged, refusing to look at them. He didn’t expect them to slip under his arm and get in front of the dummy. Now he could see the scratches and marks of battle on their face along with a worried expression. “Bull, what’s-” They jumped as he let out a surprised laugh, picking them up. They thumped his chest, yelling “Bull, you complete arse! I thought I did something wrong!” He pulled them closer, chuckling. “You did do something wrong. One being you didn’t make sure people knew you were alive and second being you didn’t bring me along to make sure you were alive. It was funny watching you squirm.” The inquisitor thumped his chest again, but they were smiling. “Next time I go to some Maker forsaken jungle with low hanging branches and trees, I’ll bring you along with me to fight the giant spiders and darkspawn. Sound like a plan?” Bull laughed, “No.”

There, enjoy. Have some burly men loving you. -Cabot

[shanaraharlyah]

Never Gonna Be Alone part 2

“Oh, You've gotta live every single day, Like it's the only one, what if tomorrow never comes? Don't let it slip away, Could be our only one, you know it's only just begun Every single day, May be our only one, what if tomorrow never comes? Tomorrow never comes

Time, is going by, so much faster than I, And I'm starting to regret not telling all of this to you.

You're never gonna be alone! From this moment on, if you ever feel like letting go, I won't let you fall, When all hope is gone I know that you can carry on We're gonna take the world on I'll hold you 'till the hurt is gone ”

~Chad Kroeger & Mutt Lange

---

Part 2 of my Dragon Age Inquisition Trespasser fic snippet below cut for possible spoilers.    Takes place during the time skip between cutscenes at the end of the DLC.  

Dorian Pavus x Kartaelin Lavellan

@14daysdalovers Prompt: Breathless Kisses

Image setup and Rendered in DAZ Studio 4.15.  Postwork in Photoshop Elements 8.0.

Bigger Here

Part 1

From behind the pair, two sets of footfalls rushed toward them, one heavy, the other fleet, and The Iron Bull and Sera soon came around into view.

"Hey, Boss.  Looks like you made it in time."

"Hi, Bull, he was here for me, he never needed our help.  He tipped us off in order to save the South from the Qunari attacks and to get me here, to save me."

"Shite!" exclaimed Sera as she came around in front of the pair sitting on the ground.  "What happened to your arm?  Dorian, how can you hold it against you like that!?"  Her face scrunched up aghast at the sight of it.

Dorian raised an eyebrow at the crude elf, "That's where you draw the line, is it?  You'll hand someone a glass of piss to drink for shits and giggles, but you can't abide the touch of a friend's ghastly wound!?"

"I'll have to remember that one," Sera giggled with a grin on her face, "but no, that's not what I meant, and you know it.  Ugh!  Frustrating people are... frustrating!"

"It's alright, Sera," interjected Kartaelin, always the calming voice amongst his friends.  "You don't have to touch it.  Solas removed it to stop the anchor from killing me."

"Double shite," replied Sera.  "So... you're okay now, yeah?  It still doesn't look like it's good, is all.  So, what's next?"

"We need to get him back to Orlais, and to a proper healer," answered Dorian.

"Can you walk, Boss?" Bull asked.

"I think so.  The anchor is no longer wracking my body, there's just a throbbing and occasional pain when I move my arm.  It's odd, there's a distinct sensation that it's all still there, but then I remember..."  Kartaelin moved to get up, but the Tevinter would have none of it. 

"You're in shock, I can't have you falling down the stairs and cracking your skull on the pavement on our way out of here.  Can you imagine, walking into the Winter Palace, 'Where is the Inquisitor?', 'Oh, we allowed him to lead us back after having his arm amputated, and gee, well, he fell down the stairs and into the abyss.  Can you believe it!'  Leliana and Josephine will have all of our heads after the effort they've put into saving this organization.  So, no, I'll carry you.  Bull, can you gather his things?"  Dorian sighed, “Sometimes I feel like I should be in the one in charge."

The Iron Bull nodded and gathered the Inquisitor's belongings.  

"I like it when you take charge," said Kartaelin huskily, the familiar lopsided grin that had been absent these last few days finally returning to his face.  

Knowing where this was headed, Bull ushered Sera toward the stairs amidst loud protests.  As much as he'd also like to stick around and enjoy the show, he knew they needed to get back to the Exalted Council and the healers at the palace, and the only way to hurry the two love birds along was to leave them behind.

"Festis bei umo canavarum!" exclaimed the mage, wiping the remaining tears from his eyes.  "Is this really the time or place for this?  ...You're just lucky that I love you so much."

"I am," Kartaelin replied coyly, wrapping his hand in his lover’s leather collar and pulling him closer to him.  He craned his neck until his lips met Dorian's and he peppered him with soft kisses.  It was the least he could do after worrying him so terribly.  They'd both feared his impending doom on account of the mark, and Dorian took it especially hard.  He'd put up a wall around his heart a long time ago to prevent himself from being hurt by anyone, but the Inquisitor had broken right through, and the thought of him being taken from him so soon tore him up inside.

Slowing his ministrations to one final passionate kiss and savoring the moment, Kartaelin pressed his forehead to Dorian's.  "I'm sorry I worried you so much, ma vhenan.  I never wished to cause you hurt."

"I know, amatus.  I just... I couldn't bear to lose you like this," Dorian replied, choking up again.  "The thought of the one bright spot in my life being ripped away by ancient elven magic, just..."

The Inquisitor reached up to cup Dorian’s face with his hand, tenderly caressing his cheek with his thumb.  "It's alright, Dorian, I'm safe now.  Solas has bought us time, but we have more work to do.  We should get back to the council.  I'll fill you in on the way."  He leaned in for one more kiss before the Tevinter could reply, taking his breath away.

Pulling back slowly, his lip caught playfully by the Inquisitor, Dorian gently gathered the elf into his arms.  "You are right of course, but what's all this 'bought us time' business?"  With a grunt he stood, the Inquisitor held tightly against his chest, "You are heavier than you look.  Eating too many of those fancy tea cakes Solas likes so much?"

Kartaelin let out a hearty laugh, "I suppose there's no chance of you changing your mind about letting me walk out of here under my own power then?"

"Not a chance," Dorian smiled, heading back toward the stairs and the exit.

"Well, we could ask Bull to carry me if I'm too heavy for you," Kartaelin smirked.

"Truly?  This is how you treat me after the moment we've just shared!?  I should drop you right where we stand," Dorian replied in mock irritation.

"And what would the others say?" Kartaelin teased.

"They'd agree with me, you little shit!" countered the mage.  "Then they'd come back to get you anyway....  Remind me again, why is it that I love you?"

"This IS why you love me," Kartaelin sassed.

Dorian sighed, "Well, you're not wrong.  Tell me, were you always this antagonizing?"

"It's just for you.  You bring out the best in me, Dorian," the elf responded.  "Or the worst, depends on how you look at it.  Either way, you wouldn't want it any other way."

"Maker, what did I do to deserve this!?" Dorian mused in exasperation.

Kartaelin just smiled.  Pressing his injured arm against his own chest, the Inquisitor placed his hand over Dorian's heart and rested his head against his shoulder.

"Oh, the things I'm going to do to you tonight," the Tevinter mage muttered under his breath.

"I look forward to it," Kartaelin quipped, nuzzling the jaw of the man he adored.

"Of course, you do," Dorian breathed.  He still worried about the ‘bought time’ remark, but he trusted the elf wouldn’t keep him in the dark for long.  He had to accept that right here, right now he was holding his amatus in his arms and they were both alive and safe for the moment.

[the-great-bbe]

Ready or Not!

Rhaenys crawls under her father’s bed. Mama was quite clear: they were playing hide and seek, and Rhaenys needed to hide her best from all the men looking for her. She stifles a giggle into her little hands. After the count of ten—ready or not, here they come!

or a quick little fanfic, about our favorite game of hide and seek :)

Lyrics of “The Hide and Seek Song” copyright by Headquarters Music.

Who wants to play a game? It’s time for hide and seek!

--

Mama kisses Rhaenys’s forehead. Egg sleeps in his cradle, despite all the noise coming from outside. It sounds scary out there, but Rhaenys is safe with Mama and Egg. Mama will never let anything bad happen to her, not even the nightmares that scare Rhaenys in the middle of the night.

“Let’s play a game, my sweet.” Mama’s hands are shaking, and her voice is high pitched. But everything must be fine, because they’re going to play a game. And not just any game, but hide and seek! “Listen carefully. Many men will try and find us, but we can’t be found by anyone. When the game is over, I’ll come get you myself, do you understand? You must hide very well, not even Balerion can find you.”

Rhaenys nods. “I’m good at this game, Mama! I’ll hide forever and ever and then we’ll have honey cakes after dinner.” Maybe if Rhaenys hides the best she can, Mama will let her have two entire honey cakes!

Mama kisses her again, and hugs her so tight that Rhaenys squeaks against her shoulder. “My little sunshine, I love you so much. Now hide. Hide!”

Rhaenys scurries off. Mama is really worried even if she didn’t say so. This game must be very important—perhaps Grandfather is playing too, even though he never plays games. So where should she hide? Maybe behind the barrels in the wine cellar, or in the gardens? No, beneath Papa’s bed! No one ever goes in his room anymore, and the space is so small that only she and Balerion can fit!

She tiptoes up the stairs, and closes the bedroom door so that it’s almost shut but not entirely. Closed doors are more suspicious in hide and seek, after all. Then she tucks herself beneath the bed, and arranges the heavy bedspread so that it’s not wrinkled. Rhaenys shimmies to the very edge of where the bedframe meets the wall, and waits.

She waits, and waits. She almost wants to go back and ask Mama for how long they’re supposed to play, and how many players. But instead she wiggles with anticipation. Mama was quite clear: they were playing hide and seek, and Rhaenys needed to hide her best from all the men looking for her. And Rhaenys is the very best at hiding! She stifles a giggle into her little hands. After the count of ten, or maybe a hundred—ready or not, here they come!

Rhaenys spies a shadow by the almost-closed door, and holds her breath.

-- Run, run, run! Time to run and hide!

Run, run, run! And now I’m going to find you, scurry off into the darkness.

Hurry, I’m behind you!

Don’t you speak! Hide and seek!

--

“Myrcella! Myrcella, where are you?”

Myrcella bites her lip. Joffrey is no good at being a seeker, he gets too angry and starts shouting for her and the servant children. And of course the servants come out, and Joffrey is so mean when he catches someone! But not Myrcella—she is the very best at this game, and she would rather fall asleep beneath this dusty old bed than let Joffrey win.

Mother tells her to let Joffrey win, to keep him from throwing a tantrum, but Uncle Tyrion says that it’s good for even the Crown Prince to be told no every now and then. She sniffles. One of the serving girls showed her this hiding spot, saying that no one ever looks under here since it’s so deep in Maegoir’s Holdfast and who can fit beneath a bed anyway?

Why does the Hand even have this room—maybe this is where Lady Lysa is supposed to sleep, instead of in Lord Littlefinger’s rooms. Myrcella isn’t supposed to know about that, of course. But she knows a lot. She knows that Joffrey isn’t going to be a very good king, and that Mother and Father should’ve never married, and that the mean old black cat Tommen wants to catch had another owner before. Myrcella heard Uncle Jaime speak about him once, and the person who owned the cat before. Uncle Jaime says many things about before Myrcella was born, but only when he is drunk and sad.

She twists a bit of string around her string until her finger turns purple. By now Joffrey must have found Sweetrobin and Tommen. She hopes that Sweetrobin cried and punched Joffrey in the nose. He gets to hit Joffrey without getting in trouble, since his father is the Hand. Myrcella is just a girl though, and must be a sweet little lady who lets Joffrey do whatever he wants. Last time she complained to him about cheating in games, he bit her ear. Mother wiped her tears and told her to bear it with a smile. Myrcella stopped complaining after that, but it still burns in her stomach.

Father says he won’t be like this forever, at least. Myrcella hopes so. She imagines him fully grown, but still the same way, and instead of twisting her arm he twists her neck. Just like Tommen’s kitten that bit him once. Joffrey let the poor little creature under Tommen’s bed, and Tommen screamed about monsters for weeks afterward. She sighs. There aren’t any monsters here that Myrcella doesn’t already know.

Myrcella hears footsteps down the corridor and holds her breath. Oh, if Joffrey finds her, he’ll tug at her hair and scratch at her arms! He’ll be so horrible, he always is! She’d rather die than be found by him!

--

Tiptoe through the cellar or crawl under your bed.

Anywhere you’ve fled, I am going to find you!

Stay inside the shadows, all you girls and boys.

Don’t you make noise, or I am going to find you!

--

“Are you afraid?” Myriame asks Arya, but she shakes her head. She refuses to be afraid. Not now, when they’re still hiding from the men who took Father away and locked Sansa in her room.

She shivers and Myriame pats her arm. She’s one of the serving girls—Arya heard Father call them Lord Varys’s little birds, once. Before everything went so wrong. But when Father was taken, a group of serving girls took Arya by the arm and hid with her in an alcove. They cut her hair, they dirtied her face, they shredded her fine dress and pinned a dirty pinafore to her shoulders. No more Arya Stark, just Nan. Nan, amongst Myriame, and Celia, and Delight, and Sera. Just another serving girl hiding behind curtains, nor beneath the bed.

“It will be alright,” Myriame whispers. “The only ones who go down here are us. Everyone else gets caught like Princess Myrcella. Those men won’t ever get us.”

Arya shivers. No one speaks of Princess Myrcella and how she disappeared without a trace. Did bad men steal her away like Father and Sansa? She dares to ask, “How do you know?”

But then their breath because there’s men outside their room. Their voices are harsh and drip with ill intent. One of them calls Sansa a whore and Arya wants to stab his eyes out with Needle. But then they enter the room and she squeezes her eyes shut and holds her hands over her nose and mouth. They can’t find her. They can’t! They’ll take her away from Father and Sansa, and who knows what they’ll do to Myriame!

There are four beds in this room, a servants’ dorm. Arya dares to peek. They check beneath one bed. Then another. One of the men cackles, “I can smell you, little girl! Where are you hiding?”

Neither of them dare to breathe. The man says in a high pitched mockery voice, “Ready or not, here I come!”

Arya burrows into Myriame’s side and waits to die. There is noise, yelling, shouting, terrible noise. Then there is heavy silence, only broken by Myriame’s breaths. Arya doesn’t dare open her eyes. Not for a second.

Myriame murmurs again that it will be alright, but Arya keeps her eyes firmly shut, counting the seconds.

--

Run, run, run! Creep up on my grave!

Run, run, run! Stalk the night away!

Scuttle off into the night! But what’ll be behind you?

Don’t you speak! Hide and seek!

--

Tywin barricades the doors shut in his wrath. How do two grown knights go missing in daylight?! And not just any knights, but his own—he needs Gregor Clegane’s bloodlust to scour the Riverlands, like a beast on a leash. And Amory Lorch is slime suited for the most unsavory tasks that Tywin cannot do. But they are gone, disappeared without a trace.

Just like his granddaughter Myrcella.

He sheaves himself onto his chair and pours himself a goblet from a blood red decanter. Years have passed, and still Cersei blames the Dornish. But even Tywin can’t point the finger at them, as there is no evidence at all. Myrcella simply played hide and seek one day, and was never found. Most likely some depraved monster of a servant took the girl for his own desires and threw her into the Blackwater, a fate entirely underserved for anyone of House Lannister. The fact that the girl was too sweet to harm a fly just makes the wound sting greater. Without her calming influence, Joffrey is an unhinged little bastard, and Tommen a spineless fool. What is Cersei teaching her children?

Not to mention she’s let both Stark girls escape! First Arya in the chaos after Eddard Stark’s arrest, then Sansa from a barricaded room! Last Tywin heard, they were both back in their mother’s custody at Riverrun. And Robb Stark is proving himself to be a wolf on the battlefield—he’ll have to deal with the boy himself. If he can stop him from overtaking the Riverlands and spilling into the Westerlands! Tywin could gouge his daughter’s eyes out for her folly. They will never get Jaime back, now that they’ve lost their bargaining chips!

Tywin hears footsteps lead up to his door and barks, “I am to be undisturbed!” He doesn’t hear them head back down the stairwell, and he growls to himself. Idiots, he is surrounded by idiots! He stalks to the door and swings open the door.

There is no one there. He blinks, then closes it. He turns back towards his chair, and the window is open. Cold sweat beads at his brow. He never opened that window, and yet the curtains blow in the wind.

A princess and two knights go missing in broad daylight without a trace. This must be the work of faceless Men from Braavos, paid to…to what? Myrcella is an obvious target, if less obvious than Joffrey or Tommen. But why Clegane and Lorch? Perhaps this is a Dornish ploy, as revenge for Princess Elia and her children—

Something falls over in his adjoined privy and Tywin swears he hears footsteps come up the stairwell once more. He steals into his bedroom without so much as a whisper, as one breath. He must hide. The wardrobe’s doors are swinging in the breeze. The Faceless Man will hear him close them, surely. But where else? His heart pounds in his temples and his vision swims. By the gods, are they already inside the room?

He looks down. It is insulting, but his only choice. Tywin squeezes himself beneath his bed and pushes himself towards the wall. The walls themselves are hollow, to allow the servants to attend without disturbing his betters. If he can find the trapdoor without alerting the assassin, he can survive this.

He is Tywin Lannister, the true ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. He will not die here! He holds his breath, and wills his numb hands to stop shaking.

--

Like a frog inside a skillet, a lobster in a pan.

You don’t understand that I am going to find you!

Be still as a mountain and quiet as a mouse, ‘cause any little sound,

And I will surely find you!

--

Joffrey is dead. Joffrey is dead! And the castle isn’t safe! Tommen scurries into an abandoned room deep in Maegor’s Holdfast. There’s just a trundle bed in the corner, boxes piled on top of each other in the center, and dust coating everything. Once, Myrcella showed him this room while playing hide and seek—but that was when she was still here. Even years later, no one understands what happened to her, or to Gregor Clegane, or Amory Lorch, or to Grandfather. Mother blames the wicked Dornish. Joffrey blames evil Northmen magic. But Tommen knows, he knows that it’s the monsters. He has seen them in the night! They are in the walls! They are beneath the beds!

Tommen told Margaery to run before he fled the wedding feast. He hopes she survives. But he can’t think of more than finding his hiding place. He’ll never make it out of the castle, not with the smallfolk starving and so angry at them. He’ll sneak out at night, before the monster goes feeding. And then he’ll head…somewhere. Anywhere but here!

Try as he might, Joffrey haunts his steps. His bloated purple face, the bile and blood spilling down his chin to pool in Mother’s lap. Mother screamed and screamed when he died, like the day when they couldn’t find Myrcella or Father. The monsters must have killed him too, like everything else in this castle. And now he is alone!

Tommen shrieks, and claws at his hair. He can’t breathe! They can hear him! They can smell him! He is next!

He crouches down on the bed in the corner. He wills himself to breathe but he’s too afraid. Joffrey is dead! Myrcella is dead! Grandfather is dead! Will they ever find his body?! Tommen chokes on his sobs and his entire chest aches. He hurts. It hurts. The fear, it hurts, make it stop—

He collapses to the ground. He writhes, and scoots beneath the bed, and muffles his screams into the dust and the dark.

--

Tick—tick—tock, are you ready or not?

Tick—tick—tock, listen to the clock!

Hasten off into the black, don’t waste another heartbeat,

Don’t you peek! Hide and seek!

--

Dragons roar from over Kings Landing, and Cersei sobs into her hands. She should be on the Iron Throne to meet the usurpers, but then they burned her Kingsguard at the gates and—and she panicked. She ran, and hid beneath a servant’s bed.

King Aegon Targaryen the Sixth, come back from the dead! With silver-gold hair and bronze skin and indigo eyes, thirty thousand Dornish spears at his back and that miserable little chit Shireen Baratheon as a bride with the Stormlands as her dowry! And Daenerys Stormborn, Queen Beyond the Sea, come to help her nephew claim his throne with their shared dragons! They each ride one, with one reserved for the sister that Lannister men murdered along with godsdamned Elia Martell! Cersei could scream, but then they’d find her.

She must escape.

If she makes her way back to Casterly Rock, then she shall be saved. No dragon can defeat the heart of the Westerlands! Cersei can still salvage this, even with all her family dead and her dreams scattered to ashes in her throat—

At least there is no valonqar. The prophecy took her children from her, but her neck is still her own.

At least she got to hold Joffrey as he died. Myrcella and Tommen had no bodies to bury. He was her first, and her last, and she prays that he found his siblings from wherever those wretched monsters stole them away.

Muffled footsteps creep from beyond the corridor and Cersei can’t breathe. A servant? A Dornish spear? A Dothraki? Daenerys? Aegon? A monster?

Bare feet enter the room, splattered with dirt and blood. One of Varys’s little birds? They skip to the edge of the bed, and a sweet voice rings out, “Found you!”

Swift as night and brutal as the Blackwater, a hand reaches under and grips Cersei by the hair. She screams as she is dragged out, and then she can’t scream because hands are at her throat and twisting—

--

Let the countdown begin!

10! 9! 8! 7! 6! 5! 4! 3! 2! 1!

--

Rhaenys peeks out from behind the door. All is still and silent. Not even the flies are buzzing. She stifles a giggle into her hands. Aegon raises an eyebrow, and she explains, “Everyone always hides under the bed. A child’s mistake, it can be forgiven with time and wisdom.”

He shakes his head, before resting his chin on her head. “You’ll never need to hide beneath the bed again, I swear it.”

“I know.” She trusts her brother. She loved him before he could even remember her face, of course she trusts him. Him, and their aunt Daenerys, and their family in Dorne, and all her friends hiding in the walls—Rhaenys shall never be alone again.

Her family are in the throne room, and she shouldn’t keep them waiting. How happy they will be to see her! How happy she will be to see them! The weight of years of hiding bows her shoulders. It is time for her to stop hiding, stop seeking, stop this game and take her place in Aegon’s circle. He will be so proud to see how she’s survived. Mama would be proud. But Rhaenys…well, old habits die hard.

She shimmies beneath the bed and pulls Aegon down with her. He laughs and she lets the shadows become her. Just once more. Once more, the darkness becomes her. Rhaenys bares her teeth in a grin. What better tool for a new king than a monster who knows where everyone hides? Aegon survived the last game between them, and she’ll keep it that way.

She tells Aegon to count to ten, and he holds his breath.

A clock ticks somewhere.

There are many who covet the throne. And the countdown begins anew.

--

Ready or not, here I come!

[untaemedqueen]

Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 5.

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage

A/N: Shout out to my squad @ppersonna, @xjoonchildx, @ladyartemesia, @underthejoon for always spitballing ideas with me and reading over what I have written. I’m seriously so lucky to have my girls and my heart is so full with them around <3

Also the beautiful banner is by @xjoonchildx so now we have two gorgeous banners to alternate every other chapter! I’m so happyyyyyy!! Enjoy guys!

It's usually relaxed Sundays at the Yu penthouse like God intended them to be but instead this Sunday was filled with raucous screaming and over dramatic whining which you aren't exactly used to.

"Leena." Jin warns, almost as if he's speaking to a child. 

You watch as your best friend takes the stuffed animal you won at the Fall Festival out of it's cardboard box before chucking it back onto your unmade bed. It's her act of defiance and it warms your heart slightly to know how much she loves you.

"Relax, would you?" Jin asks, wrapping a painting of yours in bubble wrap.

"No." She huffs out as she folds her arms. 

You find yourself smirking as you wrap your arms around her. She stiffens slightly before melting into the hug and rocking you from side to side.

"I hate him. I hate him. I hate him!" She chants bitterly as Jin sets the painting against the wall.

"Why don't you tell us about your date with Taehyung?" Jin offers, trying to take her mind off of it.

"No." She replies childishly as she hugs you tighter.

Jin sighs gently as he picks up the contract. It's a thick packet with words and legal jargon you find yourself unable to understand.

"I'm going to go read this in the living room. Leena, come with me." Jin commands and she pouts at you as she pulls away.

"At least he bought her pretty things." She grumbles to your other best friend as she follows him out of your bedroom.

You sit on the edge of your bed, taking in the almost empty room. Your heart feels heavy in this moment. It's been almost six years since you moved into this apartment with Leena. 

This new journey will be the start to something extremely different from your norm. This will be the first time that you won't be seeing your best friend everyday, or when you wake up in the morning. It's jarring and more importantly frightening.

You had already quit your managerial position at the hospital, you've already packed up all of the things deemed "acceptable" for Yoongi's home. It really is a new path for your life.

Your parents loved you so very dearly from when you were quite young. They always knew what to say and what to do, always pushed for you to do the right things quite like them. They worked so hard for you to have a better life than they did when they were young. 

You can only hope to be as good of a parent as they were. 

Telling them you were pregnant was terrifying at first. You expected them to be disappointed with you. But, surprisingly, they were supportive. It was incredibly comforting, because no matter what happens you could count on them.

Looking down at your flat stomach, although you don't look different, you feel different. With a sigh, you close your eyes for a fraction of a second before taking in a deep breath.

Everyone keeps telling you to be strong, to have strength and everything will work out but unfortunately it isn't that easy. 

"Hey Y/N." Jin whispers as he leans against the door frame.

Opening your eyes, you give him a smile to try and tell him you're alright.

"The contract looks good. Namjoon did right by you." He tells you, holding up the packet and a pen.

You hold your hands out and he enters the room.

You can hear Leena's feet stomping down the long hallway as you put the packet on your lap. 

She arrives in the doorway with a martini in hand and you tilt your head to her as she scowls. 

"You can't have sex? Is he serious?" She scoffs.

You give a smirk as you sign the contract, "Seems like it. I asked him if I could have sex with him because he's the father and he sat there and literally told me he doesn't understand why I would have sex if I'm pregnant. He seemed repulsed." 

"I'll punch him in the dick." Leena murmurs into her martini glass.

"Yu Leena." Jin scolds as you set the pen down on your lap. 

"What?! He's a huge fucking dick suck." She says waving him off with her hand.

Both you and Jin snort loudly and he lays his head on your shoulder before hugging you tightly. 

"I'm gonna miss you, princess." He whispers.

"Me too." You mumble as you wrap your arms around his.

"Shouldn't you let the madam buy the child's furniture?" Yoongi hears Maya ask over his shoulder as he scours through the furniture website.

"If her ability to pick out furniture is as bad as her clothing or her shoes, my heir will end up sleeping in a rickety old basket made out of straw and hair." He retorts as she hands him his Irish coffee.

He hears her gentle sigh and he knows it's because somehow, something he said had disappointed her.

"What's wrong, Maya?" He asks as he locks the iPad, throwing it on the other side of the couch to look up at her.

She hums undecidedly before looking down at him as he sips his coffee, "Maybe try to be nice to her. She's going to have a hard time being pregnant in this household with your wife here." 

Her suggestion makes a shiver run up his spine. Just hearing the word pregnant sends him into some deep spiral.

Maya always has been kind hearted. She's always been understanding of others. Even if they don't deserve it.

Like with Sera, Maya will bust her ass to try to make the leech smile even if she gets sneers and snarky remarks in turn. 

She's too pure for this world. Too amazing for this cheap lifestyle.

"I am being nice to her. She gets to move in here." He responds as he sets the coffee cup down on his marble table.

“Min Yoongi.” Maya breathes out above a whisper before closing her eyes.

He watches her brow furrow with shame and he clears his throat uncomfortably before looking around the open gallery of the mansion to try and find any reason for her to leave.

“I didn’t raise you this way. You know that.” The older woman chides as she dusts off some of the priceless paintings that line the walls beside where he sits. 

He lets out a gentle snort as he leans back into the chaise lounge. 

“At least someone raised me, right?” He quips to her as he looks out the bay windows.

The garden seems well tended as of late, after the last fiasco with the uneven hedges he appreciates how much work his new gardeners have put into it.

He begins to wonder what you enjoy, what your hobbies are besides getting pounded in the back of your best friends club. Do you enjoy the finer things? Like yachting or horse racing? Do you even know what they are? Just how sheltered are you?

“What do poor people like? Swap meets?” Yoongi asks as he watches the rose bushes sway in the wind. 

“Yoongi.” Maya whispers dejectedly and he turns his head to her before shrugging. 

“Just asking.” He murmurs as a sparrow lands on the marble bird bath beside the window. 

“Why don’t you just try to get to know her? Ask her things like that without being rude.” Maya replies as she turns to him.

With a grimace, he finishes his coffee before handing the cup to her, “Why do I have to get to know her?”

“Oh my goodness.” Maya mumbles as she leaves the gallery. 

The billionaire watches her leave before slowly turning back to the window to stare aimlessly for a little while longer.

He's always been so jaded, always been so absolutely fucking ruthless because if he didn't protect himself from the outside world who would?

And even if it causes rifts, he just has to be this way. Because you can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs.

The sounds of construction break him out of his thoughts. The contract must have gone through to Namjoon, if your room was already being renovated. Kira must have called and set up everything like she was supposed to.

It's a good thing she isn't just good for her tight snatch. 

Standing up with a groan, he stretches high up to the ceiling. He can hear and feel his bones popping and groaning to welcome a new day in front of him.

As he steps onto the heated marble flooring of the second floor, he knows he should be getting ready for work yet instead his curiosity begins to eat at him. 

What is your room starting to look like? How about the kids room? 

Walking past his walk-in closet, he can see dust and wood shavings on the floor in the hallway. His first thought is to curse out the constructors and threaten them if even a single wooden shard enters his room. But, before he can even open his mouth the shrill voice of his wife enters his ears.

"MIN YOONGI!" He can feel his brain rattling around in his skull, like a cry for help. He sighs loudly, it's really not a surprise that she can be even louder than the construction right in front of him.

Turning to her, he takes in her half asleep look. Her sleeping mask is stuck to her forehead, her black hair jutting out on all sides as she narrows her big, doll-like eyes at him.

"Some people are trying to sleep!" She screeches from the entrance of her wing in the mansion.

He chuckles to himself at her disheveled state and proceeds into his closet to get ready for work.

It probably won't end at that. And, he is absolutely correct.

Peeling off his sleep shirt, his eyes meet his wife's through the mirror as she storms into the room.

"I need beauty sleep, asshole!" She yells at him and he stares at her for a fraction of a second before clicking his teeth and tilting his head.

"You don't need beauty sleep, I paid for that face, leech." He deadpans.

His body is quick to duck out of the way as she takes the nearest object to the door before lobbing it at his head. 

"Did you do as I told you?" She asks, watching him grab his crisp white work shirt.

He doesn't reply, which in turn makes her repeat the same question louder with a high shrill added to her tone.

She's always been impatient and bratty. Once which was endearing to him is now like nails on a chalkboard.

"Hello?! I'm speaking to you! Answer me, asshole!" She yells as she snaps her fingers in his face.

Pressing his tongue to his cheek, he lets out a gentle snort before taking a deep inhale through his nose.

"When do I ever just do as you tell me to, Sera? When has that ever been a goal of mine?" He asks as he grabs his pinstriped tailored pants to match his shirt.

"What? So you didn't?" She asks, clearly shocked.

"Of course I didn't, what are you? Insane? Stupid? I'm a dick but I'm not heartless." He retorts.

"No! Just heartless to me!" She cries out angrily and he chuckles to himself as he grabs a tie.

"I'm sure you'll survive." He mumbles as he pulls the drawer full of his watches open. He watches them spin on their platforms before picking a black Rolex that would go nicely with his pants.

"The plan was for you to make her say that she's my surrogate! Since I'm so beautiful and so famous, she would be carrying my child instead!" Just hearing her ridiculous plan again makes him almost as uncomfortable as the first time he heard it.

In all honesty, as soon as those words left her mouth he didn't even entertain the idea. It seemed so wholly horrible and so absolutely fucking selfish. But, this is Sera we're talking about.

"That was your plan. You think I would ever force her or anyone to have to go in front of people and say their kid isn't their own? Jesus Christ. You really are a fucking leech." He spits out.

"But! But, she's going to use you for your money! She's going to ruin everything!" She screams above the incessant construction.

The sentence sends something akin to fire flaming throughout his gut.

"Well, leech, it's not like I'm not used to being used for my money. If anything you can teach her first hand what it's like to milk me like a money cow." Her mouth opens slightly, as if she's appalled by the notion.

It's then that his patience snaps like a thin twig beneath weight.

"Do you want to see my dick?" He asks briskly.

"Ew! What? No, of course not!" She yells at him as he gathers his clothes onto one arm.

"Then get the fuck out. I have to get ready for work." She stomps her foot loudly as if in protest but he brushes by her without a word back to his bedroom.

"Fucking money grubbing leech." He whispers to himself as he slams his bedroom door closed behind him.

Thursday nights were appointed for one thing in Min Yoongi's eyes. Poker.

The library which he barely ever entered as well as his wife that couldn't read more than ten words without having a seizure was always occupied on Thursdays. 

Usually, the other five members of his social circle were always present but today he only had the pleasure of four of them.

"I love that Maya deals." Taehyung chuckles as he pulls the pile of poker chips in the middle of the table towards him.

Yoongi snorts gently, clamping the cigar between his teeth tighter as he stacks his chips with one hand.

"Maya, can I please have some more ice?" Namjoon asks softly as he holds up the bucket.

"Oh of course!" She says quickly as she takes the bucket from him.

Taehyung and Jimin watch her leave before slyly smirking to Yoongi as he leans back in his chair with a groan. The way they look at him makes him feel like prey in a baron forest.

"What?" He murmurs as he pulls the cigar from his mouth.

The tips of Taehyung's fingers slide over the green felt table as he lifts his glass of whisky.

"I heard something interesting about you." He replies to his older friend.

Namjoon clears his throat uncomfortably as he crosses his legs beneath the lip of the table. 

"Oh yeah? What's that? Something about my board of trustees?" Yoongi asks with a laugh as he picks up his own glass.

"Not so much." Jimin murmurs as he ashes his cigar.

"Heard you got a girl pregnant." Yoongi chokes on his whisky as he hears Taehyung's smooth voice. His eyes widen and he spins his chair around to dab at his mouth. 

His blood runs cold as the hotel CEO chuckles behind him. It scares the ever living shit out of him and he hates that.

"Where'd you hear that?" He asks gently, his voice audibly shaking as he turns back around.

"A little after I pulled my dick out of Yu Leena's tight ass." Jimin snickers at the admission and Yoongi closes his eyes in defeat.

"You won't say anything, right?" Namjoon asks quietly as he looks over at his best friend.

Hoseok, Yoongi's other best friend since childhood had only recently found out about you and his heir. While he was surprised, he was always loyal to the CEO and Yoongi knew he could count on his silence.

"I definitely won't. I like it when Leena comes over and if I say anything she won't let me take her to France in two weeks." The Kisung Connected CEO sighs in relief at the younger man's admission.

Maya returns with the ice and it gets quiet for a bit, just the gentle sounds of ice clinking against glass and poker chips smacking into each other resound throughout the large library.

"Leena loves her, y'know. She never shuts up about her. I feel like I know her with how much Leena tells me." Taehyung says as he rubs two poker chips together between his fingers.

This peaks his curiosity as he begins to relax into the chair once more.

"What does she say?" Yoongi asks softly and he watches as Maya smirks gently. Her motions are soft and smooth as she deals the cards. 

"About Y/N? That she's really sweet and kind. She works really hard and enjoys simple things like most poor people." Humming inquisitively, he lifts his whisky glass to his lips to ponder that thought.

"Simple things? Like?" Taehyung rolls his eyes at Yoongi's question.

"Yeah. Simple things. She likes to paint and to watch romantic movies. She enjoys cooking and other poor people shit." 

He begins to wonder how well you can paint. If you were any good at it.

"She's really sweet." Namjoon adds and Yoongi grimaces in his direction.

Noticing his grimace, the lawyer shrugs with a smirk.

"Is she the girl that was with Leena on her birthday?" Jimin asks and both Yoongi and Taehyung nod at the same time.

"Oh dude! She's so fucking hot! I can't believe you got to her before me!" Hearing those words roll off of his friend's tongue sets him in an uncomfortable state.

His body leans away from Jimin's as he clutches the cigar tighter between his index and middle finger.

"So she's moving in here?" Jimin asks happily.

"In two days. Yes. We have to go to the doctor and then she'll be in the mansion." 

Hoseok nudges Namjoon as they watch their best friend move uncomfortably. 

Yoongi loosens his tie around his neck, his face and chest begin to feel incredibly hot and flush. He can feel the sweat building on his hairline as he uncuffs his cufflinks. 

"Maya." He whispers as he holds them out over the table. 

Swallowing thickly, he stares down into his glass as the ice clinks against the crystal sides.

"You're lucky she's moving in. Now you'll have constant pussy." Jimin says as he scrolls through Leena's Instagram. 

The concept is completely foreign to Yoongi, "She's pregnant. Why would I fuck her?" 

Namjoon chuckles to himself gently as he looks at his cards, he tosses a few chips into the center of the table before looking pointedly at his best friend.

"Because man, pregnant pussy feels so much better than regular pussy. Plus, she's carrying your baby. That's fucking hot." Yoongi sneers at Jimin, the corner of his upper lip flicking upward at the notion.

"You're a fucking short little weirdo, Park Jimin." Yoongi's sentence comes out just a bit more acidic than he means it to but he doesn't apologize.

If anything the small flames of anger seem to burnish brighter as Jimin chuckles to himself. Park has always been so sure of himself, so absolutely ruthless in getting what he wants. But, you weren't his to have.

"If you aren't going to fuck her right, can I?" He asks as he tosses chips into the middle of the table. 

Yoongi's hand grips into a fist, the edges of the chips he holds make uncomfortable indents into his skin as he focuses on Maya's face to calm himself down.

"Whoa. Jimin." Hoseok mumbles as Jimin laughs.

"Calm down hyung. I'm just playing with you. I'll just ask her out on a date and we'll see where it goes." Yoongi chuckles to himself.

He can't begin to understand why it bothers him so much to hear those words. Maybe it's because you're being treated flippantly or maybe it's because you were his. Or, should be his anyway. You were having his child. Doesn't that make you off limits?

But he was better than this. He was better than letting small, simple things beneath his skin.

"She won't say yes. She's pregnant with my baby." He says as he chucks his chips into the center of the table roughly.

"We'll see. If she does say yes, just know I'll treat your baby mama with a lot of respect...as I rearrange her guts with the head of my cock." Jimin and Taehyung chortle loudly as they knock their shoulders into one another. 

Scoffing gently, he downs the rest of his whisky before wiping the back of his hand over his lips.

It takes all of his restraint to not get out of his chair and punch the shorter man in the face. It takes every single ounce of strength to just stay seated and look as if he's calm while on the inside he's burning bright with red hot rage.

"You watch your fucking mouth, Jimin. She's the mother of my child." He says as he points his finger over the lip of his glass at the younger man.

The laughs die down as they notice just how deadly serious he is. 

"Oh, now you care about her? Seemed like she was going to be just another leech ten minutes ago." Jimin chuckles as he speaks his words and Namjoon's eyes flutter shut in defeat.

"Yeah well, if she was to be a leech. She would be my leech. Not yours. You watch your fucking mouth when you talk about the mother of my baby in this fucking house, do you understand me?" He doesn't even understand where this rage is coming from. He can't begin to process it, but he doesn't miss the smile that creeps onto Maya's face as he defends your honor.

Jimin holds his hands up with a laugh as he clenches his cigar between his teeth. 

"Calm down Yoongi. I'm just fucking with you. I don't want to fuck your poor baby mama, alright?" 

Namjoon sits up fast as Yoongi goes to stand up, "Let's just all relax. Calm down." He tells his best friend as he puts his hand on his shoulder.

"Get out." He says aloud as he brushes Namjoon's hand off his shoulder.

Jimin looks up at Yoongi as Maya gently sets the cards down on the felt table. 

"Oh Yoongi. Come on, I was fucking around." He says half heartedly.

"I'm done for the night. Get the fuck out." He burns his cigar out before opening up the library doors.

Everyone stands and thanks Maya softly before heading out one by one. Yoongi catches Jimin by the shoulder as he leaves last.

His hand clasps roughly around his skin and Jimin cringes at the sharp pain, "You keep her fucking name out of your goddamn mouth. Do you understand me? Don't you dare ever disrespect her in this household again. Or, I'll release those pictures of you at your bachelor party to Dispatch. You keep your dick away from where it doesn't belong in this house."

The threat sends Jimin's eyes widening a fraction before he collects his composure, "I got it. Relax." He says before pulling his shoulder away and patting the older man's arm.

Taking a deep breath, he looks around the library before meeting Maya's gaze as she clears the cards off of the poker table.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that nasty stuff." He apologizes and her nose wrinkles sweetly as she smiles.

"Now that, that is how I raised you." He smirks gently at her praise before pocketing his hands and looking down at the floor.

"Can you order some paint brushes and canvas?" He asks softly.

"Oh of course! For you? You don't paint." Maya asks, her voice is riddled with confusion as she stacks the poker chips back in the oak box.

"No, I don't but Y/N does." He mumbles and Maya smiles widely before nodding. 

"Of course I'll order her some painting materials! That's a great idea, Yoongs!" Seeing her, the woman who has raised him, get so excited about it makes him feel almost drunk off of delight.

But, then he gets brought down to Earth once more as he hears his wife giggle from the kitchen. 

"Thanks, Maya." He mumbles as he sets off to his wing of the mansion. He eyes Hoseok chatting up his wife as they both lean against the bar and he snorts to himself in disbelief. At least someone would be getting laid tonight.

The problem with having a wife that sees other people is just how loud sex can get when you're not involved. 

At one point Yoongi craved to be in Hoseok's position. He was dying to get in between Sera's legs albeit she was annoying and bratty since they were kids. He had a genuinely real crush on her that dissolved into distaste and pure hatred in a matter of moments.

Even across the whole mansion, he can hear her getting fucked like there's no tomorrow and he grimaces while turning to the window as he lays in bed. 

"Music up to ninety percent." He calls out in the room and the volume of the classical piano piece rises quickly to drown out the feral noises of sex from the other wing in the mansion.

Pulling out his phone, he begins to scroll through Instagram before finding Leena's page. There were so many posts with just you and her or you, her and Seokjin. Your smile was pretty. He takes into account that you haven't really smiled around him all that much but he can understand why. 

He can remember your giggle too, when you were in Namjoon's office. It was soft and gentle, like hummingbird wings. The noise instantly made him relax and he can remember how his eyes fluttered shut just upon hearing it.

You weren't a bad person. You weren't trying to trap him-- he could see it on your face when you had lunch. You were genuinely mortified. So fucking frightened. And, even though he doesn't know you, you don't deserve that.

You don't deserve to be terrified of him or anyone. 

He can see in most of these pictures, you're wearing borrowed things. The Chanel, the Balenciaga, the Gucci-- it was all Leenas and none of it was your own. 

How fucking depressing must that be? Did Leena make you wear her clothes or did you ask her to borrow some in order to not feel poor and unworthy around others? 

Sighing gently, he presses his face deeper into the pillow as he continues to scroll.

Maybe he shouldn't treat you like another Sera. But, he doesn't trust a single person. He's learned to lock his heart away in an iron cage after Sera so brutally stepped on him.

He's not sure if he could ever truly open up to someone else that isn't the woman who raised him.

Next Chapter --->

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[lubdubsworld]

Insatiable ( Jungkook x Oc) Chapter 5

Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x OC

Rating 18+

Genre : Vampire Au!!!! , DILF! Jungkook ! Bodyguard AU! Babysitter OC!   Age difference!!!

Chapter 1   Chapter 2  Chapter 3    Chapter 4

Chapter 5 

“Well, this is confusing.” 

Namjoon was staring at him like he’d grown an extra head and Jungkook grunted from where he was trying to deadlift the 250lbs barbell, dropping it back down to stare at his friend. He’d never been able to deadlift this much. But then, today everything about him felt different. His senses heightened, vision sharper and just a lot  more energy than usual. 

“What?” He snapped, slightly annoyed because .... well, he had no idea why he was so annoyed. And that only added to his already foul mood.

“You look like you had a good night. A  really  good night but you’re also acting like you really need to get laid. So I’m trying to figure out which it is?” Namjoon frowned, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. 

Jungkook groaned , grabbing the small towel from the chair and soaking up the sweat dotting the back of his neck. He walked over to the water dispenser in the corner of the gym, pouring himself a glass, tipping it over his head and shaking out of his hair as the water dripped down his face and neck, drenching his sweat soaked tank top even more. . 

Somewhere to his right, one of the ladies on the treadmill, tripped, crashing in a heap on the machine and he couldn’t help but smirk. She had been staring at him the entire time. 

Jungkook was used to attention. He was used to the stares and the lust and the heightened heart rates he induced . It had been bad, even in his days as a human and now, five centuries later as a powerful vampire , it had only grown. 

He was handsome. He was fit and he was a good guy. It was only natural that women wanted him. And he was okay with that. It gave him the luxury of being able to pick and choose, who he wanted in his bed. And he did. 

Not that he did it often. With Joowon to care for, Jungkook often went months on end without sex and that was okay. Because the kind of sex he usually had, it was just ...a release. There was nothing intimate or personal about it. 

Even with Helena it had been the friendship that had appealed to him.

Helena was ...fun. She liked to sail through the world, doing as she pleased and taking lovers everywhere. No one could keep her in a place for long and no one could ground her. There had been a time when he had thought that he was in love with her but that was just Helena. She made you feel like you couldn’t live without her. Because of how much happiness she imbibed in the moments. Because of how non judgemental and kind she was. 

And he loved her. But now , centuries later it was the love of a dear friend. 

But with Sera..... it had been something else. 

He had a way he did things. 

A little kissing , a little foreplay and just a whole lot of fucking with multiple orgasms for everyone involved. He had a quick refractive period and supernatural stamina so of course he was going to take advantage of that. 

But none of that had happened last night. 

The actual sex had lasted a scant few minutes. He hadn’t even been inside her more than five minutes and yet the memory was seared into his head. The phantom warmth of her still around him and the scent of her still tugging on his senses. 

And the taste of her. 

Fucking hell. 

Jungkook had never fed from someone during sex. He just didn’t because drinking from someone , taking their life essence...it just...it was something incredibly intimate. It was important to him. Jungkook hardly ever fed from humans , opting to visit a blood cafe for a drink or a dispensary for a few blood bags when he needed to feed. 

But last night. 

“Earth to Jeon Jungkook.” Namjoon’s voice pulled him to the present. 

He stared at his oldest, dearest friend. 

“I slept with Sera.” His voice cracked on the syllables of her name, his tone dripping with regret and Namjoon stiffened. 

“You... what? “ He stared at him in disbelief. 

Jungkook groaned. 

“Fuck... I drank from her too. “ He buried his face into his hands. 

“Jungkook, that’s... “

“It was her first time. “ Jungkook looked up at him, eyes wide and helpless and Namjoon’s jaw came unhinged. 

“Are you going to tell me you’re the pope next? Because my heart can’t take it...” 

Jungkook groaned.

“I’m such a fucking idiot. It was supposed to be a no strings attached thing. “

Namjoon’s gaze softened. 

“Dude, a girl’s first time? Of course she’s going to get attached. Did she like confess?” 

Jungkook hesitated.

“No. Actually, she just got dressed and left.” He shrugged. 

Namjoon frowned. 

“Oh, then that’s good right?” 

Jungkook felt a little sick. He remembered how empty his bed had felt, after she’d kissed him and slipped back into her clothes and rushed back to sleep in her own bed. He hadn’t even helped clean her up because his limbs had felt a bit like jelly. He’d been punch drunk with the taste of her, his head swimming and his body thrumming and she had practically skipped out of his room, not a care in the world. 

Hadn’t even kissed him good bye. 

“Yeah. Good. “ He said hoarsely , head pounding . 

Namjoon was staring at him .

“What ?!” Jungkook snapped, foul mood returning with a vengeance. 

“Oh my God. “ Namjoon began laughing. 

Jungkook stared at him...What the fuck was wrong with Namjoon.

“You’re the one who got attached.” Namjoon’s eyes were wide as saucers, his fingers pointed right in Jungkook’s face. 

The younger yelped, stepping back. 

“No.. I.. what?!”

“You look so upset that she left you after sex... I’ve seen that kicked puppy look before. You wore that same face when Joowon didn’t cry on his first day at school!! ‘ Isn’t he gonna miss me hyung?” You whined... i remember that fucking face Jeon jungkook!!!” 

 Namjoon was on the floor now, guffawing and clutching his sides. 

Jungkook glared at his friend. 

“What the fuck...no i did not!!” He swore. 

Namjoon merely continued laughing.

“Oh, the sweet sweet taste of karma. Serves you right Jeon Jungkook, considering the hearts you’ve broken over  the years.” 

Jungkook glared at his friend. 

Namjoon had no fucking idea what he was on about. Him? Catch feelings ? 

Like hell. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He couldn’t find her . 

And when he realized why he couldn’t find her, he couldn’t believe it. 

“What the fuck do you mean she’s gone on a date?” He snapped at Jimin who gave him an unamused look.

“I’m your hyung, you bastard!” The shorter male yelled and next to him his wife rubbed a soothing hand on his shoulder.

“What Jimin means is that, Yugyeom came by earlier when she was getting changed for dinner...” 

“He came into the room when she was getting changed?” Jungkook stared in disbelief, “ What the actual fuck...”

Jimin choked and Somi let out a giggle.

“That’s not what I meant. Sera came back to the room after closing up the daycare and Yugyeom texted her.... that he wanted to pick her up for dinner. She agreed and told me to tell you that she’ll be back at around eleven...” 

“Where the hell did they go? I need an address.” Jungkook snapped. 

Jimin stared at him like he’d spouted latin. 

“what?” He gaped. 

Somi held a hand up.

“Yugyeom’s an old friend of ours. He took her out for dinner, that’s all. She’s been out with him before ...Don’t worry Jungkook ssi... She’s perfectly safe with him.” Somi said quickly.

Jungkook merely shook his head, glaring at the pair.

“You should know better than to do this. You know how fucking good she smells to vampires. How could you send her out of the estate without security....in the company of a Kim , no less?  I am right here... It’s literally my job to be with her at al times.. Its what I’m paid to do.... ..why didn’t you tell me...” He shook his head. 

Jimin and Somi exchanged looks. 

“You’re certainly very dedicated to ....your job.” Jimin frowned. Somi meanwhile was holding a hand up and giggling behind it. 

God, he couldn’t carry on a conversation with two people who acted like literal children. 

He had to go find the Chief. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook blinked.

Once . Twice. 

“I’m sorry sir, could you repeat that?” He said sharply. 

Chief Hwang gave him a confused look. 

“I said , you can stay back today evening and help me with the accounts Jungkook-ah.I do know that Sera’s going for dinner with Yugyeom and well, I really need help with the balancing . I think the gardener has been playing fast and loose with buying germanium seeds and charging them as Lilies . Is he pocketing the difference or is there something else going on...” 

Jungkook, who really couldn’t give two fucks about germaniums or Lilies , merely stared at the patriarch of the clan, trying to decide if the older man was joking because how on earth was he supposed to just....

“Let her go on the date alone? Without me?” He asked, his tone screaming that he wasn’t okay with that.

 At all. 

Chief Hwang hummed.

“Yes of course... I’ve known the boy for two centuries. He’s a good man. “ 

“You’ve known me for five centuries.” Jungkook reminded him , instinctively.

 And then he blinked because why on earth had he said that? 

Chief Hwang had an amused look on his face. 

“Yes of course. And you’re a very fine young man as well, Jungkook. Too bad you think Sera is like a daughter to you....” 

Wait. 

What? 

Was the older man teasing him? Jungkook could’ve sworn he saw a hint of mischief in the vampire’s eyes. 

“Don’t you?” Chief Hwang asked. 

“Sir?” 

“Don’t you think of her as a daughter, Jungkook-ah.? Isn’t that what you told her?” 

Jungkook had the sudden terrible feeling that Sera told her father  everything. 

 “Uh..it was just an expression sir. She’s a good ... friend.” He finished. 

Chief Hwang hummed thoughtfully. 

“I see. Well, Yugyeom thinks she would make a wonderful mate. “ He shrugged.

Jungkook felt his fists clench. 

“I still think I should be there sir... Just to... make sure she’s safe. It’s kind of my job.” He said gruffly. 

“Are you sure? Germaniums and Lilies are vastly different and for the gardener to-”

“Sir to be very honest I don’t really care about the damn flowers. Sera needs to be safe and I’m not letting anyone hurt her on my watch. So I’d really appreciate if you tell me where she is....” Jungkook said sharply. His heart was pounding. 

Chief Hwang gave him a thoughtful glance, his lips quirking up in a smile. 

“ Looks like I’ll be planning a wedding after all.” He chuckled thoughtfully and Jungkook frowned, confused.

“Sir?” 

“Let me put you out of your misery, Jungkook ah... She’s having dinner at the Hyatt Resort.... The private conference room on the seventh floor. Yugyeom reserved it for her.” The older man glanced at his watch and smiled, “  There’s a fire work show in exactly half an hour. Sera loves those.... If you leave right now, you can interrupt them right on time. “ 

Jungkook blushed , blood rushing to his face. 

“Sir.. I’m not.. I don’t...want to interrupt.” God, he sounded fake to his own ears. 

Chief Hwang waved him off with a laugh. . 

“Go on go on..And maybe buy me some patbingsu on your way back..!! “

Jungkook stared. 

“Uh yes sir. “ 

“Good. Close the door on your way out, son.”  

Jungkook closed the door, trying to ignore the way warmth flooded his heart at the way the man had addressed him. 

 Son. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AUTHOR’S nOTE : a short chapter because I wanted to write something from Jungkook’s point of you...also Chief Hwang playing cupid is my favorite thing ever...

@ladyartemesia        @veronawrites   @alpaca1612     @bonyg    @unseejuice21  @sppvjj     @ggukkieland     @tae-by-tae      @blr1004      @yoongichild    @stussyjeon  @jellybearo  @sumzysworld   @carolsummerlove

@bunniechoon

@preciouschimine

Please come scream with me... 

[fanfic-cave]

I also love some nice Angst with a hint of fluff in the end 😄 So how about after Sera told them about Umbara and what happened, she gets a really nasty nightmare about what happened there and this time the batch is there too and Hunter takes the place of her Captain and everything is even worse. Then Hunter wakes her up, comforts her with a cup of hot chocolate he hates because of the intense smell but makes it for her so she feels better. And they cuddle.

If this doesn't fit with the storyline just ignore this ask 😅

Just a Dream

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 2.4k

Pairing: OC x Hunter

Warnings: War Scenes, death, and trauma.

Summary: Sera relives her worst and last battle of the clones wars through a nightmare. When Hunter arrives as she wakes, Sera tries to confide in him.

Authors note: I've had this draft sitting for like ever im sorry it took so long, I get so perfectionist-y about my fanfics even though im trying to just do it for fun asdakljf anyways I thought this was nice so enjoy! Thank you for the ask! :)

P.S. I went full out on this and studied the war tactics and how it actually happened on Umbara, this is just like a snippet of the details that I had figured out! tags: @mangoberry99

“General!” Captain of the 401st ran to Sera. He had his blaster in hand, ready to fight despite the fact that they just crash landed.

“Yes?” The Jedi General, Sera, looked up from her work. She knelt over an injured clone trooper, trying to do what she could to ease his pain. Based on the charred hole in his body, he wasn’t going to make it.

“We only have stray survivors from our ships, casualties are high-“ Sera and the Captain both ducked as rocks flew over their heads from a nearby explosion.

Sera glanced around the field and calculated quickly. “We need to retreat. Try seeing if you can reach General Kenobi or Skywalker, they’re the only battalions we’re close to,” Sera’s Captain nodded in agreement as she spoke, reaching for his comms.

“I’ll round up the survivors and try to find the best direction to retreat.” The dark planet's sky lit up with more enemy fire from the Umbarans. Sera’s face and the Captains helmet were lit up from the brightness. They only stared at each other in silence for a brief moment as the Umbara sky ignited above them. Sera’s expression was somber, and while she couldn’t see the Captains face, she knew his expression mirrored hers under the helmet. Neither of them liked their odds right now.

The heavy fire landed, exploding the nearby ships. Blood curdling screams came from the same direction. A sense of urgency filled Sera as she heard the screaming. “I’m counting on you, Sharp!” Sera began to turn away, yelling to Captain Sharp over her shoulder. “Yes Sir,” The Captain nodded, already working with the comm unit in hand. Sera glanced down to the clone she had been trying to heal moments ago. He was frozen, his head slumped and body limp.

The Jedi forced herself to continue, telling herself she can mourn once the battle is over. She had to save whoever she could now. “Troopers!” She yelled across the field, looking at a group of clones who were taking cover behind a flipped air transport. Their heads perked up from across the battlefield, and some hopeful expressions appeared as they saw their General. Sera squinted, then her eyes widened when she saw Wrecker was among the soldiers now, throwing scrap metal towards the enemy tanks. Tech suddenly flickered into existence, taking cover behind the same transport. One of the soldiers that had turned to Sera now saluted her. His arm was prosthetic, and the soldier suddenly morphed into Echo.

Sera shook her head, then suddenly something felt off and a sensation tugged at her gut. She froze. She knew it was the force, and it was a warning. Her eyes widened and turned to look toward the enemy lines.

Umbaran airships whizzed by and began firing down on the survivors. She looked to the surviving soldiers with a horrified expression. The Umbarans fire landed right in the center of her men, and she only heard their screams before her vision blacked out.

Sera got thrown back far, her body slamming to the ground hard. While her head snapped back and hit the rocky terrain, she felt her troopers' lives get instantly snuffed out from the heavy fire that rained from above. It felt like cotton filled her brain, her body not responding to her quickly enough. She opened her eyes, and tried to gather whatever strength she had left in herself and through the force that flowed through her. She rolled over to her side, and felt blood coming down her forehead.

Once she rolled over, she saw a soldier's charred body not too far away. He held a rifle in his hand, and she recognized the tattoo marks on his eye that formed a Crosshair.

Sera looked away from the disturbing sight, then tried sitting up. She halted her movement, then gasped and gripped her side. She had felt a sharp pain, and looked to see blood was on her hands. Her vision began to get cloudy, blood dripping into her eyes from an open wound on her head.

“General,” the whisper cut through the haze, and she recognized the voice immediately.

She ignored the pain and crawled over, seeing her Captain sprawled body lying feet from her. “Captain-“ Seras voice caught in her throat, and she couldn’t speak more, the sight of his broken body stealing her voice away. More flashes lit up the sky, and more fire came from the enemy’s tanks and airships. She squeezed her eyes tight. This can’t be happening. It’s just a dream.

“General-“ Sharp coughed weakly. He brought Sera back to the scene before her. She let the tears fall and she sat up as best she could, reaching to grab ahold of his bloodied hand.

“Stay with me Captain.” She forced herself to speak, and tried to sound confident. She tried to sound like the General these men deserved, not the one that had just failed them. He reached and lifted up his helmet.

Sera saw it was Hunter's face that was underneath the Captain's helmet, and he squeezed her hand tight. She sobbed quietly, letting the tears fall.

This isn’t how it happened

“Hunter, stay with me.” She remembered speaking this sentence before, the words came out forcefully and with passion just like they had the first time.

“It was an honor, General.” The words that had been spoken by Sharp came out of Hunter's mouth, now in his voice too instead of the Captains. Sera only sobbed harder.

“No! Not you, no no,”

The light left his eyes and his hand stopped gripping hers.

————

Sera awoke in bed, gasping for air. She sat up and ran her hands through her hair, trying to remember where she was.

He’s dead. They're all dead.

The door to her bedroom opened, and someone came through. Sera didn’t look up, but kept her fingers tangled in her short blonde hair, gripping her head tightly.

“Sera!” Hunter's smokey voice echoed through the room as he ran in, his vibroknife in hand. Sera kept staring down, trying to recall where she was and how she wasn’t injured. She pressed a hand to her side and felt no pain.

“What’s wrong, are you hurt?” He looked around, trying to find a threat.

“I-“ Sera couldn’t get another word out, and she tried to steady her breathing. Her memories started to come back to her now that she was awake.

It was just another nightmare. Everyone in clone force 99 is alive.

“I'm sorry, it was just a dream.” Sera's voice came back to her and she looked up to Hunter. His hair was messy, the bandana still in its rightful place though, and he wore his blacks.

He relaxed, then set the knife down on an end table, and looked down at her. He took in the scene, Sera shuddering in the bed, coated with sweat, breathing shakily. His expression softened as he began to comprehend what had happened. “A nightmare.” It didn't quite sound like a question when he said it, but Sera still nodded in confirmation.

Hunter looked away, placing a hand on his chin as he thought hard for a moment. Then an idea came to him and he looked up to Sera. “Will you be okay if I go for just a minute?”

Sera examined his expression. His eyes didn’t waver from her, and he waited patiently for her answer. She could tell that if she asked him to, he would stay with her no questions asked.

“Go, I’ll be okay.” Sera tried to smile and nod. She still felt herself shaking a bit, and she knew the smile probably wasn't convincing. Hunter nodded back and slipped out of the room.

While Hunter was gone, Sera sat herself up in the bed and tried to get more comfortable. She wiped away the layer of sweat that covered her forehead, and took slow, deep breaths. Her dream felt just like what happened on Umbara, it was almost a perfect replay, like the other times she had this nightmare. The difference this time was that the bad batch was there too, dying alongside her soldiers. But they’re alive, she reminded herself.

Sera’s thoughts were interrupted when Hunter opened the door, and held a steaming cup in his hand. His nose was wrinkled a bit, but he managed to maintain a normal expression otherwise. “Here.” He handed it to Sera. She looked curiously, and then took the cup. She instantly felt it’s warmth, and recognized it was Hot Coco.

“Hunter, you didn’t have to do that.” Sera looked at the cup gratefully. She knew the smell of the drink bothered him, ever since she made it for herself the first time she stayed aboard the havoc marauder. After seeing how it irritated Hunter's senses, she never drank it around them anymore.

Hunter shrugged, trying to act like it was no big deal. She could see his nose was still wrinkled, and turned away from the cup. “You’ve had a bad night. I know you like drinking this when you can’t sleep, Echo told me.”

Sera would’ve denied it if he hadn’t mentioned Echo, but it was true. Sera and Echo both had a habit of being insomniacs, and sometimes the two would pass by each other on a shared sleepless night, and sometimes they would keep eachother company

Sera sighed and decided not to fight Hunter on this. Despite what the clone thought, the Coco smelled amazing to her, and the warmth she felt from gripping it was inviting. “Thank you.” Sera quickly took a few sips, which turned into a few gulps of the chocolate drink. Hunter chuckled as she easily downed the drink.

“You're welcome.” He smiled and looked away, then sat at the edge of Sera’s bed. After she finished, she set the drink on her nightstand, just by her bed. She saw Hunter's knife was sitting just next to her now finished cup. She decided to reach for it, bringing it to her lap as she held it in her hands.

Hunter watched her fiddle with his knife, and decided to speak up. “Do you want to talk about it?” He asked her. Sera looked up and met his eyes. He was leaning back on his hands, and she could tell he didn’t want to push her.

“Just bad memories.” She answered briefly, then looked back down to the knife. She held the point at the tip of her finger. Her brow furrowed as the memories flickered in her mind, and she mindlessly fiddled with the blade, scraping the tip of it on her fingers. Hunter's hand came over hers, and her eyebrows came up, slightly surprised. She didn’t move.

“We all have bad memories from the war.” Hunter opened her hand and took the knife away gently. After it left her hands, she squeezed her now open hand into a fist. She nodded at his words.

Sera had these dreams so many times, too many times to count. She’s even had these nightmares while traveling with the group of rogue clones. Something was different this time though. She didn’t have someone here when she awoke from the bad dreams.

Sera’s chest felt tight as the emotions began to overwhelm her. Despite not following the Jedi code anymore, She still found herself in the habit of trying to have no attachments. Being attached to her soldiers, her men, it’s what hurt her the most when they died. But here they were, more clones once again breaking her walls down.

Hunter's arm came around Sera’s shoulder, and she easily leaned in and rested her head on his shoulder.

“You’re safe now, Sera.” Hunter squeezed Sera’s shoulder, trying to comfort her.

“It’s not me I’m worried about.”

Hunter turned his face a bit to eye her suspiciously. “You’re worried about us?”

Sera didn’t look at him. It felt like history was repeating itself. Sera finding more clones, joining arms with them, creating a close bond with them. There was only one thing left to make both of these stories the same.

No more deaths.

Hunter's chuckle brought Sera’s attention back to what was happening. “You know we can handle ourselves, right?” He was genuinely amused at the idea of Sera being worried about them.

“That was part of my nightmare.” Sera lowered her voice when she spoke, just breathing the words out.

Hunter didn’t laugh at that. Sera closed her eyes, and pressed her face into Hunter's shoulder. Hunter frowned at this, beginning to see how real her fear was.

“Hey,” Hunter shifted, moving so he could see her face. Sera lifted her face up when Hunter moved his shoulder away.

“We’re not going anywhere.” Hunter looked Sera dead in the eyes, both hands on her shoulder. He squeezed her shoulders gently. “You’re stuck with us as long as you’ll have us.” The corners of his mouth turned up a bit as he finished his sentence.

Starting to feel a surge of emotions come, Sera put her arms around Hunter and pulled him into an embrace. He wasn’t expecting it, but easily returned the gesture. He had gotten used to hugging more with her, and easily patted her back comfortingly.

“Thank you,” Sera breathed into Hunter's ear. Hunter froze for a moment, then straightened himself up and pulled away.

“Alright mesh’la, lay down and try to sleep.” Hunter gently grabbed onto Sera’s shoulders and started guiding her back down onto the bed.

“Mesh what now?” Sera yawned as she spoke. She didn’t know mando’a, except for picking up on some of the insults crosshair would direct to her occasionally.

“Sleep.” Hunter ordered, ignoring her question.

Despite wanting to argue, Sera’s eyes felt heavy, and she willingly laid back down on the bed. A few minutes passed, with Hunter staying diligently at the edge of the bed. He listened to her breathing, and glanced at her occasionally. He waited to be sure no signs of another nightmare came, and that Sera would sleep soundly. Once he was confident she was fast asleep, Hunter planned to quietly leave the room and go back to sleep.

Once he shifted though, he felt fingers grip his wrist. He turned to glance at Sera. She wasn’t awake, but when he moved she reached out and grabbed him. Hunter tried to peel her fingers off, but she shifted in the bed, only tightening her grip.

Who knew she could get so attached?

Hunter gave up on leaving, already entranced by watching her sleep. He did, however, feel too uncomfortable with sitting on her bed any longer, so he instead reached over to a chair just a few feet away and pulled it up. He settled in, leaving his arm on the bed that Sera would not release. The chair and his body were parallel to the bed, and he continued to watch her carefully, ready to chase away any nightmares that came.

[mydrug-is-dragonage]

Veda Adaar, Life after Bull

Victory. Triumph. Glory. Pride. What we usually feel when we win a battle. The quiet grief of cutting down lives, regardless of how worthy they are of death, but the warm joy, knowing we saved someone or something or everyone or everything from a grand or small evil.

Victory.  We stood on the balcony, crowded together, together again for the first time in years. Thom and Sera, Divine Victoria’s watchful eyes, Cassandra and Varric’s constant disdainful flirting, Cole and Maryden’s quiet affection, Dorian and Vivienne both wine drunk trading insults, the quiet acknowledgement of a friendship that grew against both of their wills. Josephine and Cullen arguing, treating the terrace like battlements, more performative as they both know the end is closer than the beginning. Solas, our own personal god, long-gone into the eluvian. We’re all here, we’re all together. All of us, but Bull.

Triumph. The weeks have passed, a quick and effective rebuke from the Arishok, King Alistair and Empress Celene accept it quietly, no time for war with another battle floating above us in the air. Back at Skyhold, a skeleton crew, these days just Harding and me spend our time in the battle room, staring at maps; Leliana’s other protégés are always off on missions. Sera pops by every now and then to see Dagna with bees and trinkets and little things to remind me that she’s never really gone. The best day, or the worst depending on the audience, Sera and Dagna came up to my room, giggling, presented me with a crossbow for where my arm ought to be. “Widdle’s a wizard, yeah! You’ll be on rooftops sticking it to people too big for their breeches in no time!” I thanked them, and sent them away. This is love, at least for Sera. Her love is violence and showy maneuvers, dancing with both hands and feet shaking about.

Glory. Josephine writes me letters, telling me to eat, to ask Cullen to write back. After a few months, she finally pens, “I know I am no longer your formal ambassador, but as your informal friend I find it painful to admit what has been sung in the inns and halls. Bards have taken your loss and turned it into song. Unlike what Maryden had composed, these are unfortunately mocking in nature. People have taken the final act and written it as the whole narrative, my lady. A play premiered in Val Royeux putting you at the center of the conflict, as the one who allowed it to happen. If you desire, I can put an end to this. Divine Victoria recommended assassins, but I’ve temporarily dispelled her more primal desires. Likewise, Mr. Arainai also reached out, grateful for the assistance you had given him evading the Crows. I similarly told him no. Above all, regardless of what action we take, I want you to know I am sorry. You’ve lost much, suffered more than so many of us. I’m sorry, Veda. I love you.”  It wasn’t unexpected, bards sing, playwrights write. They tell the tales people want to hear. Immortalizing betrayal has always turned them into legends.

Pride. A cold morning, one with little to be done, Charter and Rector off in Nevarra, the crows neither coming or going, Lace came into my room, “Sorry to bother you, V, we’ve got a vistor.”

“Avoidable?” I ask.

“What an impossibly rude question, darling.” I looked up from my desk and saw her horns pointing from the stairway.

“Oh, Vivienne, I wasn’t expecting you,” I said. I don’t stop the smile on my face. For all our differences, we’d become like sisters. On her best days, she’d fawn over me like a mother.

“That’s Grand Enchanter now, My Lady Inquisitor.”

“I’ll leave you to it,” Lace said, excusing herself. I waited to hear the door close, then the other. Vivienne stood, graceful and stoic as ever. A few more moments of silence, then she broke into a smile. She took off her hat, placed it on the sofa, and walked towards me, arms splayed.

“Oh, my dear, how I’ve missed you!” I stood up, robes draping and hiding me.

I leaned into her hug, resting my head on hers. “Grand Enchanter, really Viv?”

“One must keep appearances, darling. Besides, imagine if Bull heard you call me…” She heard it as it left her mouth. “Oh, my sweet, I’m so sorry. While we should have anticipated his betrayal, I know the loss must weigh on you heavily.” She nestled further into my chest. I breathed out, for a moment just Veda, not the Inquisitor, not the betrayed lover, not the important person forced upon me. I was mortal, Vashoth, tall and strong and being hugged by someone who loved me enough to allow me to be small and weak. We settled onto the couch. I pulled my legs in front of me

“You know better than anyone. I remember, I was there when you lost Bastien.”

“And I was there when you lost the Iron Bull,” she sighed. “We are sisters in grief, as well as sisters in victory. We’re sisters in success, although your’s has had its struggles as of late. I assume the Divine told you of the bards?”

“Josephine.”

“The Nightingale sending a gentler songbird. Wise.”

“I assumed it would happen. Charter brought back the lyrics and playbook from what she considered the more consumable tales,” I said.

“They’re vile, darling. I offered the services of the Circle. The Divine declined. I assumed she had sent assassins.”

“No, I turned down the offers.”

“You’re losing political capital, my dear. If you want to return to the world, recruit who you need to defeat Solas, you’ll need allies. New allies, old allies. It will require quite the force and connections. You know you have the Circle, as much as we can politically sacrifice in this turbulent time,” she said.

“It isn’t the first thing on my mind, at the moment,” I said.

“And why not darling? If you choose to remain in obscurity at some point it will no longer be a choice.”

 It’s spring, it is the last night at Skyhold before we leave for the Exalted Council. Cullen and Josephine have been up bickering most the evening, finally put to rest. I settle into my room, sitting at my desk, twiddling my pen. My bag is packed, the horses are ready. The door creaks open. I don’t look up, I can smell him from here. Even after a bath he smells like home, smoky and warm. “Hey, Kadan.”

“Hey,” I say, “they finished?”

“Well, Cullen is now arguing with Cabot which gave me enough time to get the serving girls to feed Josephine. She wanted to get back to bickering, but I asked her if the itinerary had been checked. So I think they’re fine for now.”

“They’re just worried about tomorrow, the coming weeks. It’s normal,” I say,

“You’re the one who grew up with humans. They worry too much, but it makes them easy to work with. Like clay.” I smile and look back down at my papers. “Enough work, Kadan. You can’t do anything more today.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Are you going to make me?” I smirk.

“Oh, is this what we’re doing?”

“Oh you didn’t know?” I laugh. “I thought you knew it all, everything I needed, Ben-Hassrath training, remember?” He smiles and walks towards me, I slide back in my seat and he scoops me up.

In bed, his heart pumps slow and heavy in his chest. I trace his body with my hands, his arm around me. Our horns rub against each other, small grooves from the years of lying here together. “Better?” He asks.

“What do you think?”

“I know. I just want to know if you know.” I lean up and kiss him.

“Yes, better.” He smells better when he’s sweaty. Something about those early days, seeing him tear through crowds, watching his arms lift and push those heavy swords and axes. Long before, when the Chargers still existed, when he wasn’t just my man, but their man.

“What’s wrong?” He asks.

“I’m sorry, you know,” I say. For a moment, he’s silent, sitting in the grief.

“You made the right choice. You made the only choice. You led like a Qunari.”

“It shouldn’t have been my choice. I should have let you decide,” I say.

“No,” He says, clipped. “You are the Inquisitor. It was your decision, to keep the alliance or lose it. You made history. You stopped a batshit insane darkspawn from destroying the world.”

“I could have stopped him anyway,” I say.

“We don’t know that. The Tamassrans used to say, ‘When there are no right choices, the right decision is the one you make and the one you live with.’” I nestle into his chest.

“I’m happy the Qunari have kept you here.”

“Me too, Kadan.”

“I love you, Bull.” He pulls me closer into him. For a moment, I wonder if he’s crying.

 “I don’t want you to be angry, Viv,” I said.

"Oh what now darling? First you go into solitude like a hermit, what’s next?” I put my legs down and pulled my robes back. “What’s this?” She looked, at first with curiosity, then her eyes widened. “Veda, oh Veda, are you?”

My eyes well, “Yeah, Viv. I am.”

She covers her mouth, the first time I’ve seen her truly shocked. “And is it…?” With that question, the tears fall. The heavy sobs wrack my chest and Vivienne crawls towards me, arms draped around my shoulders and I cry into her chest. “Oh darling, of course you’ve been distracted.” She rubs the back of my head, stroking my neck as I calm down. “Should I ask Harding for some tea? Juice? No wine, of course.” I shake my head. “Oh dear. Who all knows?”

I swallow and trap my tears in my chest. “So far you, Leliana, Thom, and Cassandra. Lace knows, and she’s kept questions from Charter and Rector to a minimum.”

“You haven’t told Josephine?”

“How could I? What could I possibly say, ‘Oh yes, enjoy your new career in Antiva! By the way, I’m carrying the betrayer’s child! Send my love to Yves and Yvette!’”

“I don’t think keeping it secret is much wiser, my dear. People will know, especially once the child is here. Do the Qunari know?” She asked.

“As far as Leliana’s sources know, no. Bull was loyal to the end, they had no reason to think he’d do this, especially when it hadn’t happened in the years before.”

“When did this happen?”

“Right before we left for the Exalted Council,” I said.

“Oh.”

“I know,” I said. “He must have known. I can’t decide if this was kindness or cruelty.”

“What’s that line he always said, darling? ‘When it’s a hostile target, you give them what they want. When it’s someone you care about, you give them what they need.’”

The tears well again. My hands slide to swollen belly. “It isn’t what I wanted. I had never even considered it. He was Qunari enough that I knew we’d never have a family.”

She reached a hand towards my belly, “May I?” I sniffed and nodded. She placed her hands on my stomach, on top of my own hands. “If this isn’t what you wanted, then it must have been what he thought you needed.”

  “He couldn’t have known we’d win. He fought like he meant it. He struck me with his blade. He wasn’t fighting to lose.” The anger and grief mixed in my throat.

“He wasn’t, he never did, darling. But he knew you. He knew us. He knew you’d bring me and Cassandra. He knew what the Qunari could and couldn’t do. He believed in you, at the end. Just as he had at the beginning, my dear.” I took a hand from my belly and moved it to the outside of my horn, the groove still there from the years spent lying together.

“I’m not planning on bringing  my child into the public life. We’ll have a few years, at least, presuming we aren’t all destroyed by Solas,” I said.

“Shh, no reason to worry about that right now, darling. We have today’s troubles and tomorrow’s troubles.” She sat back and blinked away her own tears. “I’ve never been an aunt before. I’ll of course send over a suite of clothes and supplies from Val Royeux.”

 I wipe my eyes and smile, “Are you going to be an aunt or a Grandma’am?”

"Oh you miserable louse, how dare you?” She said, the tears finally pouring from her eyes.